The Pirate's Desire

by Jennette Green

  “Riel’s right. Jonathon is a rake.”

  “Well, I don’t expect Jonathon to ask me to marry him, if you’re worried about that. It’s just that Riel can be so…frustratingly bossy. It maddens me.”

  “Even if he only wants what’s best for you?”

  “Even then.”

  Timothy returned with Amelia’s drink and Lucinda excused herself, on the pretense of an important errand. Really, she wanted to see what might develop with her friend’s unlikely romance with young Lord Fenwick.

  “Lucy.” Riel appeared by her side. She would have kept walking, but he captured her hand. His easily dwarfed hers, and his palm felt warm and calloused. Her mouth suddenly went dry and her heart beat faster. She attempted to free herself, but he didn’t allow it. “Walk with me.”

  “Why?” she hissed, having no choice but to walk fast at his side. “You are behaving most inappropriately, as usual.”

  To her shock, he opened the door to the garden. Lucinda dug in her heels. “I am not going out there with you again. Perhaps you think me a woman of easy virtue…”

  “Lucy.” The single word stilled her protest. But she couldn’t be alone with him. He disturbed her too deeply. Not only that, but she’d had enough of his dictatorial decrees, too, she reminded herself again.

  All the same, she followed him to the edge of the rose garden.

  Still, he did not release her hand. Her temper bubbled. “Will you kindly unhand me? I am tired of being dragged thither and yon.”

  “I am sorry, Lucy.” He released her.

  “You’re sorry? For what? Dragging me out here?”

  “I’m sorry I threatened to cut Jonathon out of your life last night.” The words sounded rehearsed…and forced. As if he didn’t want to say them, but knew he must.

  Surprised, she crossed her arms. “What made you see the error of your ways?”

  “Lucy,” he growled. “I know I was unreasonable. I am sorry.” A few moments ticked by. At last, more quietly, he admitted, “I don’t like it when you’re angry with me.”

  “You care what I think of you?”

  His hand swiped at his black hair in that tail; a frustrated movement. “Of course I do.”

  This was a new development; a turning point in their relationship. He’d just allowed her to see that she held power over him, too. An equaling of the playing field, at last. “You do?” she said softly.

  “Will you forgive me?”

  “Of course. If you will forgive me, too, for avoiding you and being a bit cold tonight.”

  Tension eased out of his broad shoulders. “Of course. Do you still have a dance to give me?”

  “I have one right now.”

  It felt cool outside, compared to the hot crush of bodies indoors. Strains of music drifted outdoors. A waltz, of course.

  “Will you dance with me? Here?” he said quietly.

  It was vastly inappropriate. But what about their relationship had ever been ruled by etiquette? She moved into his arms and felt like she’d come home. Her hand slid up to his shoulder, and he pulled her close enough that her cheek could rest on his chest. Much nearer than proper. But she liked it. In fact, she relished it.

  The strains of the melody strummed through her heart, and tangled with the strong thump of his heart in her ear. This was where she wanted to be. In his arms forever. All of their silly snits and arguments over the years fell into perspective at last.

  They were their first, tentative steps of courtship. At least, for her that was true. She didn’t know what Riel felt for her. But now she understood why she’d shoved him away so strenuously for so long. She’d fought this quiet certainty that she’d completely and irrevocably lose her heart to Riel Montclair.

  A sob gathered in her throat as this alarming truth swelled, filling her heart completely. She loved him. She’d fallen in love with her strong, immovable, maddening, honorable guardian. The man whose first love was the sea.

  How had it happened? Why him? He met none of her specifications!

  Well, he was tall and handsome…

  Stop it! Didn’t she want a man who would let her rule her own life? An agreeable man, not an authoritative one. A civilized gentleman, not a pirate. A lord of the manor, not a ship’s captain! A future between them was impossible. He’d never give up the sea to court her.

  But what if he would? A shiver ran through her at the thought.

  “Are you cold?” Riel asked, against her hair.

  “No,” she whispered. Her foolish fantasies must go. Riel did not intend to marry…not ever. This fact sliced into her soul. Further proof that her feelings were fruitless and self-destructive. Perhaps…maybe if she ignored them, they would go away.

  “Lucy.” He pulled back. His black eyes held a faintly quizzical look. “Are you all right?” Then he frowned and brushed her cheek with his fingers. “You are crying! Why?”

  Lucinda drew a quick breath. Never could he know what she had been thinking. She pulled away. “I believe the dance has ended.”

  “What is wrong?” Concern deepened his voice.

  “Sometimes we want…what is simply impossible.”

  “Do you mean Jonathon?” His voice roughened.

  Jonathon couldn’t be further from her mind. But maybe it would be best to let him think so. “I’m glad you changed your mind about him. I will be sure to tell him.”

  “Lucy.” He touched her arm.

  “I’m chilly, Riel.” She had felt warm in his arms, but now she felt cold, alone and heartsick. “Will you see me inside?”

  “Of course.” He offered his arm and they walked inside. Lucinda held onto the moment for as long as she could. All of her life she had wondered with whom she would fall in love. Now she knew.

  How could her heart choose a man who would never be hers?

  Tears glimmered again, but she swallowed them back.

  Enjoy the moment, her soul whispered. Enjoy every minute you have with him, for soon they will be gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Another week crept by. Sophie could barely speak now, and lay blue and quiet most of the time. Lucinda still read to her. It seemed to be her only comfort. Grief grew in Lucinda’s heart for the friend who was quietly slipping away, and for the man she could never have.

  She continued to spend most of her time with Jonathon at the dances. Riel didn’t like it. His features stiffened when they twirled by him, but he said nothing. She did catch him shooting Jonathon a glare, jaw clenched, from time to time.

  “Your guardian doesn’t think I possess honorable intentions toward you.” Jonathon said one evening.

  “Do you?” Then Lucinda felt bad. “I’m sorry. But he’s under the impression you’re a rake. It’s an impression I share, if I must be honest.”

  Jonathon bowed over her hand. “Lady Lucinda, I am finished playing the field.”

  “You are?”

  He lifted her fingers to his lips. “Perhaps it is time I settled down.”

  “It is?” Lucinda could not seem to stop her inane questions. But she stood transfixed. Could Jonathon possibly be saying…?

  “Perhaps it would help if I state my intentions to your saber rattling guardian.”

  “Perhaps it would.” Lucinda felt faint.

  “Then I will call round at the earliest opportunity.” Sea green eyes held hers as he bestowed another kiss upon her knuckles. “Would that please you, Lady Lucinda?”

  Lucinda pulled herself from her stupor. Would it?

  Then, “Of course!” She wanted a husband, didn’t she? If she couldn’t have Riel, then Jonathon was the best of the lot. And he wished to marry her? It seemed beyond the realms of possibility that a first-class rake would give up his idle pleasures to chain himself to her.

  “Are you certain?”

  He smiled. “I have never met such a charming, spirited woman, Lucinda. You have quite captured my heart.”

  “Oh. Well…thank you.” Lucinda felt tongue-tied. Shouldn’t she be sa
ying something else? Like pledging her undying devotion to him, too? The words stuck in her throat, but Jonathon didn’t seem to notice.

  He released her hand at last. “I will speak to the Baron now and set up an appointment to speak to him. Soon all the ruffles will be straightened out, and your guardian will no longer need to protect you from me.”

  Lucinda nodded. Jonathon strode in Riel’s direction.

  A proposal. She’d just received her first—and only, she reminded herself—marriage proposal. She should feel elated. And indeed, her heart pumped alarmingly fast. But whether it was from joy or panic, she could not tell.

  * * * * *

  Jonathon called at Riel’s townhouse two days later. When Lucinda saw his carriage pull up, she impulsively sprinted for Riel’s empty study. Would Jonathon truly ask for her hand? What would Riel say to him?

  Heart thumping, she hid behind a long drape in Riel’s study. Perhaps this wasn’t her brightest idea, but she couldn’t bear the thought of waiting outside the door, biting her nails. Wasn’t this about her? Didn’t she have a right to hear it all?

  These logical justifications did little to soothe her conscience, but Lucinda didn’t move from her hiding place. She waited, nerves jumping, for the men to enter. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Jonathon’s proposal…if indeed that was the purpose of his call today.

  Of course it was. Biting her lip, she listened as the men’s boot steps entered the room. The door clicked closed.

  She peeked around the edge of the curtain. Jonathon stood with flowers in his hands, facing Riel, behind the desk. Stiffly, he said, “I’m not sure if Lucinda has mentioned the reason for my visit this day.”

  A moment of silence. Lucinda frustratingly could not see Riel’s expression, for he stood with his back to her. “No. Lady Lucinda has brought nothing to my attention.”

  “I am here to humbly request her hand in marriage.”

  Riel moved to the side of the desk. His stiff, broad shoulders and his jerky first step were the only indicators of his emotions.

  “You may not have Lucinda’s hand, nor any other part of her.” His voice sounded flat, without expression.

  Red suffused Jonathon’s neck, and rose to his cheeks. “You have no right to refuse me!” he snarled. “I am a member of the aristocracy. I have a title, land, and wealth. What do you have, Montclair? This townhouse, and a little ship, bobbing in port.”

  “This is about Lady Lucinda. I am her guardian, and that is all the authority you need to understand.”

  Jonathon clenched his jaw. “You hate me, Montclair. You have from the beginning. Why?”

  “You are a rake, Duke. Is that not reason enough?” Riel turned now, and Lucinda saw that his eyes were hard.

  “It’s because I remember you, isn’t it?” Jonathon lashed out, like a feral cat advancing upon its prey. “Lucinda mentioned you’d been in Morocco thirteen years ago. So was I. I remember you from Tangier, don’t I?”

  Riel’s face closed. “I have been many places, Duke. The locations are unimportant.”

  Jonathon’s fingers crushed the flowers he held. “We will see about that, Montclair. We will see!” With a swift turn, he exited from the room. The front door slammed, and reverberated throughout the entire house.

  Riel’s white-knuckled fingers gripped the back of his chair.

  Lucinda slipped from her hiding place, not particularly caring that it revealed her shameless eavesdropping. “Riel! Why?”

  “Lucy.” His shoulders straightened. “You were spying.”

  “Of course. Are you surprised?”

  A smile glimmered. “No.”

  “Why won’t you let me marry Jonathon?”

  “I will not,” he said harshly. “And that is the end of it.”

  “It is not the end until you tell me why!”

  “He is a rake, Lucy. What more do you need to know?”

  Lucinda fisted her hands. “Who else am I to marry, then? No other suitors have knocked on my door. And Jonathon says he wants to settle down.”

  “A leopard cannot change its spots.”

  “Such as you? Once a pirate, always a pirate? Who are you to judge anyone?”

  “I will be the judge of Warrington,” he said in a low, vehement tone. “And he will never be good enough for you!”

  “Then who is? How many other suitors have you scared off?”

  His fingers fisted. “Lucy. I’m not trying to be unreasonable. I’m trying to protect you.”

  “You are the one from whom I need protection, Riel Montclair. Your job is to deliver me to a suitable husband, but you just sent one right out that door. Tell me why! And don’t tell me it’s because Jonathon’s a rake. Rakes are a pence a dozen in London, and any number of them settle down and get married. I want the truth!”

  “Lucy.” He said no more.

  “I thought so. Stiff-necked and unreasonable to the end.” She left the study and slammed the door behind her. It felt good. For a moment.

  She dashed to her room, overcome with tears. Riel would deny her every happiness. He’d never offer her himself, and now he’d just denied her the one man who did want her.

  Lucinda collapsed onto her bed and clenched her pillow in helpless, hopeless anger and grief. She felt achingly alone. Perhaps she would remain so for the rest of her life.

  * * * * *

  Riel paced the study like a caged lion. Lucy hated him, but he’d live with that pain. At all costs, he must protect her from that viper, Warrington.

  The Duke would marry Lucy over Riel’s dead body.

  His mind returned to Jonathon’s threats. He’d been in Tangier, Morocco thirteen years ago. The same year Riel had been there. The same year he’d killed Desalt.

  What if Jonathon had witnessed the trial aboard the British Naval frigate, HMS Endurance? What if he spread those facts throughout London?

  Riel did not care if others learned about his past. It was old news, and settled in that foreign port. And thankfully, the Brits no longer wanted to find a reason to seize his ship, since the war was over. The news would, however, ruin his reputation if it spread about the ton.

  Riel paced, trying to think. He cared nothing for the ton or its whispering gossip mills.

  But he did care what Lucy thought. He couldn’t bear to see the disgust and contempt in her eyes if she learned the truth. That fear had haunted his nightmares ever since winter. He couldn’t take the thought of it actually happening.

  Lucy trusted him now. Although she was angry at him for the moment, she liked him—he could tell by that soft look in her eyes when she smiled at him. And he could tell by the way she kissed him.

  Riel’s gut twisted, thinking about that stolen kiss in the garden. The kiss he’d taken much too far, unable to stop himself. Even now, weeks later, he continued to think about that sweet kiss with uncomfortable frequency, as well as the chaste one he’d purloined in the hall not so long ago.

  Riel didn’t want any other man to touch Lucy. And he’d recently realized how mercilessly he’d grilled each of her suitors all Season long…and unconsciously chased off every one.

  All except for Jonathon, the worst of the lot. A predator, his instincts told him, but he couldn’t prove it. He’d bet his ship that the man wanted to use Lucy, and spend all of her money on his idle pursuits. Then he could keep his own fortune intact for his heirs.

  Riel clenched his fists. Jonathon was a worm; he felt it in his bones, and not just because the Duke was a Warrington, either. Riel would lay down his life to protect Lucy from that snake. Jonathon would never have her.

  Nor would any other man.

  Then the truth hit him like the swing of an unfettered sail boom to the head.

  Riel wanted Lucy all to himself. Because he loved her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Season twirled on, including the latest of the unending balls. Lucinda felt heart weary and sick of them. She didn’t want to pretend to look for a husband anymore.


  This evening, all the players were present: Riel, Jonathon, Amelia, Timothy…and even Fredrick. Lucinda had managed to avoid Riel completely for the last two days, including meals, which she requested be brought up to her room. He frustrated her beyond measure. She loved him, and yet couldn’t have him. And while she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to marry Jonathon, Riel had stripped that choice from her, too. Why did she have to fall head-over-heels in love with that maddening man?

  And why was he so set against Jonathon? Besides the rake issue, of course. Something more fueled Riel’s palpable dislike of the man. But what? Was it something to do with Riel’s past? Something Jonathon might know about?

  It made little sense to her. But at least Riel had not requested to sign her dance card this evening. He seemed to understand she would refuse him flat out.

  Lucinda danced the waltz with the Earl of Hart now, and she scanned the room, looking for Jonathon, her next partner. He’d claimed two of her dances, as usual. He didn’t appear to be giving up, despite Riel rejecting his marriage proposal for Lucinda. She felt grateful for his constancy. At least Jonathon cared enough about her to continue on as friends.

  She spotted Jonathon leaning against the wall, sipping punch. A frown disturbed his handsome brow. Unusual for him. So was the fact he wasn’t dancing. What was he thinking about?

  Her gaze continued to scan the room, and she spied Riel. He stood with his arms crossed, watching her. A frown pulled his brows together, too. She averted her eyes, and glanced in another direction. Yards away, Amelia danced with Timothy Fenwick again.

  Lucinda felt a hard bump on her arm, and Fredrick strode by, heading for Amelia. An ugly scowl contorted his face. The scent of alcohol drifted to her nose.

  Donald guided her steps toward the opposite side of the ballroom, but Lucinda tipped her chin left and hissed, “This way.” She urged him after the dissolute Fredrick. Obligingly, the handsome young man swept her in the direction she wished to go. Lucinda stood on tiptoe so she could see more clearly…and gasped.

  Fredrick’s meaty fist gripped Amelia’s arm, and he yanked her from Timothy. Amelia staggered sideways, and Fredrick shoved her so hard she fell to the floor. In the next breath, Fredrick hauled back and punched young Fenwick dead in the nose.