The Pirate's Desire

by Jennette Green

  Lucinda allowed Old Ben to amble as he wished near the tree line. His ears perked to and fro, listening to the sounds of the forest. He seemed to be enjoying the adventure. Probably more than she was.

  “Good boy,” she whispered, keeping an eye on Ravensbrook, just to make sure Riel did not exit or try to track her down. Far more likely, though, he’d wait in the house in the study. Long minutes ticked by.

  Not much longer, now.

  Lucinda’s heart pounded in sickening thuds. She was about to gain her heart’s desire, if she had the guts to stick to her plan. Did she?

  She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

  * * * * *

  Lucinda shuddered with cold by the time she rode home. She stabled her horse, and then circled the house, heading to the back door—conveniently located near the study, and next to the kitchen, too. Inside, Mrs. Beatty wiped down the table with an old rag.

  Good. Lucinda took comfort from the close proximity of her old friend. But she couldn’t let Mrs. Beatty know what she was up to just yet. No, she had to face the music on her own, and accept the ultimate punishment…and the ultimate prize for her flagrant, willful disobedience. Mrs. Beatty would hear her, though, when she screamed.

  Lucinda’s fingers trembled as she grasped the familiar iron door handle. It will be all right, she told herself. You can do this.

  Her heart pounded like a runaway horse when she entered the dimly lit hall, and she felt sick. Nerves prickled into her skin like tiny, torturous needles as she made her way toward the study. Toward Riel.

  Breathing quickly and shallowly, and tongue feeling as dry as fall leaves, she approached the last corner. A scurry would take her past the study’s open doorway and lead to the stairs and the sanctuary of her room. With a tiny, gulping swallow, she turned that last corner.

  Only to find the study dark and empty.

  She stood stationary for a minute, heart still racing, trying to come to grips with this unexpected development. Where was Riel? Had he gone to bed? Had he decided to let her willful disobedience slide…at least until he officially became her guardian?

  Lucinda trembled, feeling let down, angry, vexed…and truly, more than a little relieved. When she clasped her hands together, she realized they were visibly shaking. All of the adrenaline…all the planning…all for naught.

  So, no confrontation tonight. Riel had won. He would become her guardian after all. And lord over Ravensbrook.

  She had lost.

  Still trembling, Lucinda headed up the stairs. Her legs felt shaky, like half set gelatin molds, as she climbed the stairs to the upper hall. All was silent and dim up there, too. Riel must have retired for the night. She couldn’t believe it. She had planned it all so carefully. She had been so certain he would not let it slide…that he would explode like a box of gunpowder.

  The silence in the hall did not soothe her nerves, nor did it calm the trembles still shaking through her body. She would only feel safe in her room. Suddenly, that was where she wanted to be, and immediately. She bolted over the last few feet and swiftly closed her bedroom door behind her. She pressed her back to it and a long breath of relief filled her lungs. She was safe. It was all over.

  The armoire on her left blocked her view of most of the room, but ahead a lamp burned high and bright on the dresser, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

  She frowned. Hadn’t she left the wick burning low?

  For the first time, she sensed something was out of place in her room.

  Heart accelerating yet again, Lucinda uneasily inched past the wardrobe and cast a quick glance about her room.

  Adrenaline kicked up her heart rate when she saw Riel. He sat in a chair in the corner. He wore all black and almost blended into the shadows.

  “Riel!” she gasped.

  He rose to his feet; an alarmingly dark presence. “I see you have returned.”

  “What are you doing in my room?” This was not in her plan. Not at all. Mrs. Beatty was nowhere near. “Get out at once!”

  “You refuse to heed my words, Lucinda.”

  Lucinda. His voice was even, but she was not fooled. He was angry, just as she had planned. Unfortunately, now would be her reckoning, and no one would witness it, or save her. Lucinda lifted her chin, fighting for calm and courage.

  In a low, dark voice, he asked, “Where have you been?”

  Although her fingers trembled, Lucinda nonchalantly pulled off her bonnet. “Out. I want you to leave. It is most inappropriate for you to be here.”

  “Riding in the forest?”

  “Yes, if you must know.” She turned partly away to place her bonnet on the dresser. He took one step closer while this transpired, making her feel even more tense. A tendril of fear crept down her spine. She faced him. “Leave my room immediately.”

  “We will finish this now, Lucinda. No more games.”

  “I play no games.” She was pleased by how firm her voice sounded. Inside, however, she scrambled, struggling to figure out how to best take advantage of this situation. Although the confrontation was not playing out how she had originally planned, he was clearly angry. If she possessed the guts to play her hand to the full, as she had planned to do in the study, then her plan could still succeed.

  But she was alone with him. The barest tremor slid through her. Stop it, she told herself fiercely. Seize this opportunity. She must grip her courage and play her role to the hilt. For Ravensbrook. For her own future.

  He growled, “I have let you play me again and again. A mistake. I thought you were grieving. I believed that explained your belligerent behavior. I see I was wrong.”

  “Leave if you are not pleased, Mr. Montclair. No one is binding you to Ravensbrook. Return to the docks, if life here is so unpalatable.”

  A muscle clenched in his jaw. “An insubordinate lad aboard ship would have received thirty lashes by now.”

  Fear trickled like cold water down her skin. “I am not a lad, nor am I aboard your barbaric ship, Mr. Montclair.”

  “What method should I employ, then? Words do not work with you.”

  She stiffened her spine against the implied threat. Coldly, she stated, “I do not respond well to orders. I thought you had learned that lesson.”

  Something black flashed in his eyes. “I am not giving orders, Lucinda. I am concerned for your safety, but you will not heed my words.”

  “You mean obey you? I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman…”

  “Then act like one!” he thundered.

  She jumped a bit, despite herself. “I’ve done nothing dangerous. I know Ravensbrook blindfolded.”

  “You defy me on purpose.”

  How clever he was. With a small, mocking smile, she said, “Tell me, how has it worked?”

  “I am staying, Lucinda,” he said, his voice like black silk. “And you will listen when I give you instruction.”

  “Or what?” she returned, and managed to construct a sneer. “No. I will decide what’s best for me. Not you. I will not listen to you. Not now, nor ever. So when you leave for your ship, don’t bother to return. If you think these past few days have been unpleasant, know they’re only a taste of what will come.”

  His face darkened. “You act like a willful child who needs a good swat.”

  She had never seen him so close to the edge of snapping before. Her heart bumped faster with fear. Was this it? Perhaps her next words would be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.

  Yes, if she played her cards right, now she would free herself from his presence forever.

  With deliberate precision, she curled her lips into a condescending sneer. “My father was a gentleman, born and raised. Not like you. He never raised a hand to me.”

  “It is what you need now!” His tense body looked cast in stone. Tightly checked anger vibrated, pulsing through the room, enveloping her senses. Lucinda felt a swift, piercing stab of fear.

  He could do it, she knew in sudden fright, seeing the dangerous glint i
n his eyes. He could easily bend her to his will and humiliate her in such a way.

  This was not in her plan. How could she show Mr. Chase those bruises? Her face flamed.

  “Don’t you dare lay a finger on me,” she breathed. Panic fluttered like a tiny, agitated bird in her breast. “I will hate you forever!”

  “You already hate me.” Riel stepped closer.

  Lucinda trembled. “No. Don’t do it.”

  “Then behave like the civilized young woman your father believed you to be. He was proud of you, Lucy.”

  Her father had boasted of her to Riel? Her breaths came faster…agitated, confused and frightened.

  What would her beloved father think of her now?

  It wasn’t hard to guess. He would be shocked and dismayed by her behavior. Instead of welcoming his friend into their home, she had deliberately provoked Riel. Instead of loving and respecting her father, she had ignored and rebelled against his last wishes. All to save Ravensbrook; but, if she were brutally honest, also to selfishly save herself, and her freedom and independence. Her father, without a doubt, would be deeply disappointed in her right now.

  But, she quickly reminded her faltering resolve, her father had not known about Riel’s secrets, nor his self-serving, greedy plot. For Ravensbrook, and for her father, she must retain her courage. She stiffened her spine.

  “Tell me then,” she said in a low, controlled hiss. “Should I trust my home to a man who plans to steal from it?”

  “What?” His frown flashed like hot lightning.

  “I know the truth, Mr. Montclair. I heard you tell your henchman that you will come into new cash at the end of this week. Cash to pay your crew. Cash that you plan to steal from Ravensbrook!”

  Shock darkened his face. “I would never steal from Commodore Hastings. After what he’s done for me… Never! How could you think such a thing?”

  “How? You refuse to admit your secrets. You behave like a brutish pirate. You are a privateer. What else am I to think?” Her temper soared. “Truly, with all of these facts at my disposal, what am I to think?”

  “You trust your father’s judgment so little?”

  “I trust his tender, trusting heart too much.”

  “I have told you before. I am no thief.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Montclair, what will you do with Ravensbrook’s money?”

  “What money?”

  She gasped at his sheer bravado. “Truly? Mr. Chase will give it to you tomorrow.”

  “No. He will keep it. I told him that last night. He will continue to manage Ravensbrook until I return from my voyage. As to the money I’m expecting, a buyer owes me payment for a shipment. I will pay my crew with that money.”

  Flustered, Lucinda said nothing.

  His words rang with truth. She’d been wrong, then. At least about that one issue. That relieved her, to a small degree. However, the hard tension in the lines of his body still frightened her. He had threatened moments ago to swat her. By the look of it, he was still angry enough to carry through on that threat.

  He growled, “I understand that you want to protect Ravensbrook, Lucy.” A bit more gently, he finished, “You are a strong young woman, just as Peter said. He loved you very much, and was proud of you.”

  “Truly?”

  Suddenly, it was all too much. Lucinda put a hand to her face. If she did not need to protect Ravensbrook from Riel, then her reasons to want him gone were purely selfish. Why put herself in harm’s way for such a selfish goal? Although this reasoning did not make his impending guardianship more palatable, still, what choice did she have?

  Something inside Lucinda crumpled. She felt so distressed, weary and heartsick. And the last thing she wanted was to be a disappointment to her father, or to further deny his wishes. “He told you he was proud of me?”

  “At every opportunity.”

  With that one last pin prick, her determination to oust him from Ravensbrook deflated. How had Riel known just the thing to say? It frustrated her beyond measure. She lowered her eyes.

  “Lucy, is this the end of it?”

  Lucy. By one question he demanded two things—the right to call her Lucy, and capitulation on her part to stop creating trouble. To accept his guardianship and rule over Ravensbrook for the next two years.

  Every part of Lucinda hated the idea of submitting to him, but what other choice did she have? Did she want to shame her father? Did she want Riel to beat her? No. The horror of this last idea shuddered through her. So, in truth, she had lost. He would not leave, not ever, for he was more hard-headed than she was.

  It was a bitter pill to swallow, to accept that he had won. Tears welled in her eyes. “Obey you, or receive a beating? Those are my choices?”

  “I have not laid a hand on you, Lucinda.”

  “But you will!” she flared. “Isn’t that what you’re threatening? To beat me into submission?” Tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “Lucy…” The note in his voice changed, but she would listen no further.

  “Fine, you great brute! But know your pretense of civility doesn’t fool me. You are a barbaric pirate, and never will I believe anything different. Yes, I will follow your rules. But steer clear of me in the future, Mr. Montclair. Your very presence sickens me!” To her dismay, a tormented sob escaped, and she pressed her hands to her face. “Go! Go at once. I never wish to see you again!”

  After a small hesitation, she heard a whisper of movement and then the latch clicked as the door opened. Another moment of silence passed, as if he stood in the doorway, contemplating speaking to her, and then the door softly closed.

  With a sob, Lucinda flung herself on her bed. She wept stormily. She couldn’t bear to think about her future. What was more, she hated herself, and she hated him. Her fists curled tightly into the quilt, her body trembling from the agonizing defeat.

  * * * * *

  Riel heard the wretched sobs through the closed door and felt like a villain. True, for one split second he had felt the overwhelming urge to turn her over his knee and give her one hard swat.

  Never.

  He had sworn he’d never allow fury to rule him again. Long ago, he’d almost forfeited his life by reacting like a hot-headed fool. A man had died. By rights, Riel should have swung from a noose.

  Never again.

  The scene in Lucy’s bedchamber seared his mind. He shouldn’t have been in there in the first place. But when Riel had seen her gallop off into the night with that backward, gleeful look at the house, something inside him had snapped. Instead of chasing after her, he’d sat in her room, waiting for his anger to cool down. It had. In fact, he’d even remembered to go downstairs and turn out the light in the study. But just now, when she had taunted him, blatantly mocking his authority in her life, a cold fury had swept through him. On his ship, no one would dare treat him in such a manner.

  Was cold fury better than hot? Probably not. Not when he remembered what came next.

  He had pretty much threatened her bodily violence; even if it was only a swat. Self-disgust gripped Riel, making him feel sick. He should knock on her door right now and apologize.

  Still, she had behaved like a belligerent adolescent ever since they’d first met.

  It didn’t matter. She was his friend’s daughter. He should have been more patient.

  Lucinda could try the patience of a saint.

  Riel tried to remind himself that he had not raised a hand to her. Above all things, he had kept his self-control. A victory over the young man he’d once been.

  But none of those facts quieted his conscience. He had all but threatened her. Shouldn’t he apologize?

  His curled fist hesitated a quarter of an inch from her door.

  Lucy had finally agreed to behave herself. She had agreed to stop testing him at every turn. It wasn’t so much himself that Riel was worried about, but his great-aunt. If Lucy acted like a willful hoyden while he was gone, it might send his frail aunt over the edge. She could collapse—or worse,
the stress could fatally weaken her heart and she could die.

  Riel lowered the fist he had raised. No. Lucy had promised to behave now. If he apologized, she might take it as a sign of weakness. Then the battle would begin afresh.

  Finally, she had given him a measure of her respect. Yes, inspired by fear. And while he did not want Lucy to fear him, perhaps this was the only way it could be—for now. He hoped it might be the first step to build a better relationship. First, mutual respect, and then, someday, perhaps trust and friendship.

  He remembered when he’d been a new recruit on the Barbary ship. He had received many a lashing, but the selfish child had been quickly scourged from him. He’d grown up fast.

  Riel would never lay a finger on Lucinda, but if it took an unspoken threat to make her toe the line while he was gone, so be it. He would not allow his great-aunt’s health to be endangered.

  Lucinda wasn’t a child anymore, and it was time she grew up.

  Chapter Eight

  “Miss?” A loud rap sounded on the door.

  Lucinda moaned, and buried her head further under the covers, blocking out the unwelcome daylight, and the rude pounding upon her door. She had barely slept, and was exhausted.

  “Miss!” Effie’s voice came again.

  Lucinda flung back the covers. “It is barely daylight,” she cried out. Flopping back, she smashed the pillow over her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and searched for a comforting tendril of sleep, but all had fled. Last night’s events stormed in like a flood. Her defeat. Her humiliation.

  Her plan had failed. None of it had turned out the way she had hoped. True, Riel had barbarically threatened her, when she’d pushed him beyond endurance. But he had not snapped. It spoke to his character—the character her father had seen in him. She had been wrong about his plans to steal from Ravensbrook, too. That was a relief, although he still hid secrets from both herself and the Royal Navy. Did it matter? She could do little about any of it.

  Now he would wield a scepter of authority over Ravensbrook and her life for two years. While in her heart she still didn’t want a guardian, it was time to accept her father’s wishes with grace. To make him proud of her.