The Buccaneer

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The Buccaneer Page 27

by Donna Fletcher


  "She fainted," he informed him. "I need to get her home immediately."

  "The ship?" Santos asked.

  Lucian paused in thought then shook his head. "As much as I would like nothing more than to abduct her at this moment I don't wish to cause her any more hurt. I'll talk with her when she's feeling better. If she doesn't listen to reason, then—"

  "We'll abduct her and take her back to the island," Santos finished.

  "Island? No, no, driver," Lilith fussed coming up behind Lucian. We don't live on Island Way, come, I'll give you directions to the Abelard townhouse while the earl tends to my niece."

  Santos smiled. "As you say, madam."

  Lucian climbed easily into the carriage with Catherine in his arms. She was coming to and stirring when Santos assisted Lilith into the carriage.

  Catherine moaned softly and pressed her face against the familiar hard chest, relishing in her stupor the protection she always felt when in Lucian's arms.

  Arms. Good Lord, she was in Lucian's arms. All he had to do was slip his hand over her waist and he would feel the small bulge of her stomach where his child nestled safely.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

  "You're safe, madam."

  She couldn't help but smile, his words comforted her so.

  "Are you feeling better, Catherine?" her aunt asked, leaning over to her.

  "Yes, much," she said, and attempted to squirm out of Lucian's arms.

  "Stay put," he ordered sternly, causing Catherine to still immediately and her aunt's eyes to widen in surprise.

  Not caring what either woman thought of his brazen demand he continued. "You will settle yourself in my arms and I will see you safely to your room. Tomorrow I will call on you and we will talk, then I will speak with your father."

  Lilith smiled approvingly. "Randolph will be happy to receive you."

  Catherine shut her eyes against the thought. Why did he want to speak with her father? Hadn't he caused them both enough pain?

  The carriage stopped and Catherine attempted to scramble off his lap, placing her hands across her stomach protectively.

  "Sit still," he warned with a whisper near her ear.

  "Please let me go, Lucian," she begged softly. The outline of his handsome features in the moonlight stole her breath away and sent her heart to racing.

  Her aunt was already out of the carriage, rushing up the front steps for assistance from the servants. Santos stood discreetly away from the open carriage door.

  "Promise me you will see me tomorrow," Lucian said, running his hand slowly up her neck.

  "I promise," she nearly shouted needing to run from him, far from him. His touch had ignited her passion, and it flared to a hot flame. She ached for his hands to touch more of her heated flesh and if she didn't move away from him soon she would surely beg him to love her.

  "You want me, angel, don't you?" he asked, his lips following where his hand had been and kissing the slim column of her neck, licking gently, lovingly, where her pulse throbbed rapidly at the vein in her neck.

  She moaned, biting back the need to tell him not only how much she wanted him but how much she loved him.

  "I can taste the passion that rushes through you," he whispered harshly, his hand moving to cup her breast. "You want me to ease the ache, the fire between your legs. You're hot and wet and ready for me, aren't you, angel?"

  Lord, but his words alone could climax her. He drove her crazy and if she wasn't careful soon she would lose all sanity and let him have his way with her and then —

  He'll discover his child resting in your belly.

  Her silent reminder startled her and she struggled against him, against her own desire.

  "Catherine," he said sternly, his hands reaching for her waist to settle her.

  She slipped from his grasp and if Santos hadn't caught her she would have fallen to the ground. He helped her up and cast her a startled expression. He had felt her rounded belly, he knew.

  She begged him with her eyes and a shake of her head not to reveal her secret.

  He nodded and sent her a sad smile before releasing her.

  She ran toward her aunt and Dulcie who had rushed out of the house to help her.

  "Tomorrow, Catherine," Lucian called from the carriage.

  Catherine didn't turn and acknowledge him, she ran straight into the house.

  o0o

  "Two days and you're telling me she still isn't well enough to receive visitors," Lucian said to the imposing manservant who blocked the entrance of the Abelard townhouse.

  "The physician left explicit instructions that she rest and that she was to receive no visitors," Dunwith explained calmly.

  "And when did the physician feel she would be well enough to receive visitors?"

  "I couldn't say, sir. That information is privileged and for the Abelard family alone to divulge if they wish."

  Lucian grew furious. Catherine belonged to him and he damn well intended to find out what the bloody hell was wrong with her. "I demand to see the marquis."

  "He isn't home."

  "I'll wait," Lucian said, and took a step to walk around the servant.

  Dunwith took a step to his right, blocking Lucian's path. "He isn't expected back for a few days.

  Santos came up behind Lucian, ready to help him charge the house if he wished, but Lucian held up his hand, sensing his friend behind him.

  "Tell the marquis the Earl of Brynwood, Lucian Darcmoor, requests a meeting. I will be here the day after tomorrow at noon. And I will not be turned away."

  Dunwith nodded. "I understand perfectly. I will inform the marquis."

  Lucian turned and walked off with Santos, his heavy and purposeful strides evidence of his anger.

  "He will not be put off again," Dunwith announced, turning around to face Catherine after locking the door.

  Catherine stood in the doorway of the drawing room, her hand pressed to the cherry wood frame for support, her other hand unconsciously splayed over her rounded stomach. "Please order the servants to pack, we leave for Yorkshire tonight."

  o0o

  "What is the meaning of this, Catherine?" her father asked as he walked into her bedroom two hours later. "We planned to leave at the end of the week, why the sudden change?"

  Catherine drew a deep breath and released it slowly. She was tired and weary of this whole matter. It was time for the truth. "Dulcie, please leave us."

  Dulcie bobbed her head and closed the door behind her as she left the room.

  "Sit, Papa," she said, patting the spot beside her on the bed. "There is much I must tell you." And she did. She spent the next hour detailing her capture, the reason behind it, and the pirate Lucifer's true identity.

  "Good Lord, I had not thought the past would come back to haunt me so," her father said. "I had thought Lucian dead. I had hoped otherwise, but the evidence pointed to his death. That was why I helped Charles fight to retain the Darcmoor title and estates. I had assumed someone was posing as Lucian Darcmoor and laying claim to the properties.

  "Have the Darcmoor properties been granted to Charles?" Catherine asked.

  "The court has postponed their decision due to my request, but now — now I will inform them that Lucian Darcmoor is indeed who he claims he is and that his inheritance should be transferred to him immediately."

  "Can you tell me now why you signed those papers? she asked, needing desperately to hear a reasonable explanation.

  "Forgive me, Catherine, but I cannot. I made a promise a long time ago and I cannot go back on my word."

  Catherine understood better than anyone what her father's word meant to him and she didn't pursue the matter. Someday she would learn the truth. Until then she would assume her father's reason was a just one.

  "You are right, it is best we return to Yorkshire. You need rest and you need distance between you and Lucian at least for the moment until the matter can be thought through and settled. I will send my solicitor to the court with pa
pers in regard to his lands, and then we will leave at once for home. The servants can see to the rest of the packing and follow later. Gather what you wish to take and I will have the carriage brought around."

  Her father hurried out of the room, mumbling to himself.

  Catherine sighed for relief. She was finally going home.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Lucian rode as if the devil was on his tail. Branches sped past him barely missing his face, some glanced off his shoulders, but he paid them no heed, he rode on.

  The black beast beneath him could barely be contained when he rode into the stable at Brynwood. He settled the horse, riding him about the stable area to calm him. Then he dismounted and threw the reins to the stable master to tend to the animal.

  His hasty strides took him directly through the back of the house past startled servants who fled fearfully out of the new master's way. He rounded the center staircase and took the steps two at a time, causing a young housemaid to drop her bundle of linens in fright and execute a hasty sign of the cross as he passed her.

  The whole manor claimed he was the devil himself with his long red hair and fiery disposition. Lucian paid them no attention. He had discovered in the month's time he had been in residence at Brynwood that he hated England, its weather, the people, and his own lands. He wanted to go home. Home to his island. Home with Catherine.

  "Santos," he bellowed form the top of the steps, causing every female servant in the house to cross themselves protectively.

  Santos appeared at the bottom of the staircase, casting an optimistic glance up at him.

  "I've had enough," Lucian announced, and Santos fled like the wind up the steps.

  He followed Lucian to his bedroom, closing the door behind them.

  Lucian began to shed his clothes as he spoke. "Get the Black Skull ready and bring her to the eastern cove and anchor her there. We sail for home tomorrow evening."

  "Catherine?"

  Lucian threw his shirt off. "She's coming with us."

  "You've spoken to her?"

  "No," he snapped irritably. "That damn servant, Dunwith, insists she's much too ill to receive visitors and won't let me in."

  Santos frowned. "Do you think she is ill?"

  "No, she’s being obstinate. I had thought time and sending her flowers and small gifts with notes expressing my concern would soften her enough to at least see me. But she has not acknowledged one gift or request to speak with her. My patience is at an end."

  "Then you plan to abduct her?"

  "Not myself. I'll send Bones and Jolly. I've had them watching the Abelard house. They've managed to locate the whereabouts of her bedroom, as no one has seen her outside since her return. I don't think she will give them as much trouble as she would give me if I came for her."

  "What if she refuses to go with them?"

  "They've been given explicit instructions to bring her to the cove or else!"

  Santos nodded, knowing with that warning issued the men wouldn't fail Lucian.

  "But first I plan on sending her one last gift," he said, walking to the chest of drawers beneath the window and opening the top one. He withdrew a black velvet box and handed it to Santos.

  Santos looked puzzled. "Why give her another gift if you plan on abducting her tomorrow?"

  "The gift speaks for itself, my friend."

  o0o

  "Oh, my lady, the earl comes by every day and insists on seeing you," Dulcie said, pouring her mistress a cup of tea with a shaky hand. "He grows angry when Dunwith tells him you are too ill to receive visitors and then he asks if you have received the gifts he has sent. When he learns you have and have purposely not responded —" She bit on her lower lip nervously and shook her head.

  Catherine sighed, resting back in the large chair that faced the open terrace doors in the sewing room. She had been shocked to discover that not only had Lucian, upon learning of her hasty departure from London, followed her to Yorkshire, but that within the week his estate and title had been returned to him and he had taken up residence at Brynwood, becoming her next-door neighbor. She had repeatedly refused to see him, ignoring his gifts and flowers though he had managed to touch her emotions with them. That he should take the time to court her as a gentleman impressed her and confused her. She had feigned illness these last few weeks and in that time her pregnancy had advanced considerably, making it impossible to see him.

  "I had hoped his persistence would fade, but he appears intent on speaking with me."

  "Maybe you should just talk to him —"

  A shake of Catherine's head stopped any further suggestion from Dulcie. "I am in no condition to receive him."

  Dulcie looked at Catherine's rounded belly. "He's bound to discover you carry his child, m’ lady. And then what?" Dulcie crossed herself.

  "I don't know," Catherine said wearily, and waved the filled teacup away.

  "I've upset you, m’ lady, I'm sorry," Dulcie apologized.

  "Nonsense, I'm fine," Catherine assured her, and quickly changed the subject. "Were you able to speak with any of the servants at Brynwood?"

  Dulcie nodded. "I found out that one of the servants who worked there around the time of the old earl and his wife's marriage now works at Moulton Manor.”

  Catherine grew excited. "I'd like to talk with her."

  "I thought you would so I arranged for her to visit with you tomorrow afternoon."

  "Good, there is much I wish to ask her," Catherine said, already planning a list of questions in her head.

  "Lady Catherine," Dunwith said, entering the room. "Charles Darcmoor requests an urgent visit with you. He insists it is of the utmost importance."

  "He wishes to see me and not my father?" she asked, aware that Charles had been upset when her father had informed him that due to the fact that Lucian Darcmoor's identity was legitimate he could no longer help him to retain the property that rightfully belonged to Lucian.

  "Give me a moment, Dunwith and then bring him in."

  Dunwith left and Dulcie helped Catherine adjust a shawl across her chest, draping it over her stomach to conceal her pregnancy.

  Charles rushed into the room moments later. "Catherine, you must speak to your father for me."

  His face appeared flushed, his hands trembled, and she wondered if he had been drinking at the local village public house.

  "Please sit, Charles. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

  "Tea?" he snapped. "How can you offer me tea when your father has turned against me and caused me to lose my entire holdings?"

  Dunwith walked into the room and over to Charles where he stood glaring down at Catherine. "If you insist on raising your voice to Lady Catherine, I will have to ask you to leave."

  Charles calmed down immediately and turned apologetic. "I am terribly sorry for my unreasonable outburst."

  Dunwith positioned himself by the door, his intention obvious. He would not leave until Charles was finished visiting.

  "Do sit, Charles, and calm down. Then I will gladly listen to you," Catherine offered.

  He took the seat opposite her, his hands still trembling and his cheeks more flushed than before his outburst. "Do you know why your father turned against me?"

  "He did not turn against you. Indisputable evidence of Lucian Darcmoor's identity was presented to him and he had no choice but to advise the court."

  "But all my documents proved Lucian dead. This man cannot be Lucian Darcmoor," he insisted with an angry shake of his head."

  "Then evidently your research into Lucian Darcmoor's demise proved inaccurate." Catherine would have continued with her explanation, but Charles's expression startled her into silence. His eyes glazed over, his lips pinched shut, and his hands balled into tight fists. He looked on the verge of springing forward and attacking her.

  "I had hired a trustworthy solicitor to see to all my legal matter and to make certain all facts were accurate." He spoke slowly and articulately like a man attempting to control his anger.
<
br />   Catherine sought to placate him, his troubled mood filling her with concern. She had never seen him so agitated and near to losing control of his temper. "I'm certain the solicitor attended properly to the matter. News and information when sent over a great distance has a way of becoming distorted."

  "Perhaps, but this man has no right to my properties and the Darcmoor fortune. All of it belongs to me. My uncle, Elliot Darcmoor, especially requested that I gain full title and rights to the Brynwood estate."

  "In the event of his son's death," Catherine corrected.

  "Of course," Charles agreed quickly. "But Uncle Elliot had searched for his son and had discovered, and believed without a doubt, that Lucian, his only heir, had been killed in a pirate attack."

  "But he wasn't," Catherine said. "He is alive, and rightfully the Darcmoor properties, title, and fortune belong to him. I'm sure if you speak with your cousin he will settle a handsome account on you for your troubles."

  Charles sprang out of his seat. "Settle an allowance on me with my own money!"

  Catherine jumped, startled, and grasped the shawl protectively around her.

  Dunwith was beside him in a second. "I must ask you to leave. You have upset Lady Catherine and she is still recovering from her illness."

  Charles turned on the man to argue, but thought better of it, especially after meeting Dunwith's determined expression.

  "Again, Catherine, I beg your forgiveness," Charles said with a bow. "I am upset and not myself. I meant no disrespect."

  "Come and speak to my father when he returns from London. He was called away for a few days on an urgent political matter," Catherine said, hoping her offer would appease his anger.

  "Thank you, Catherine. You have been most generous and I will make certain to contact your father upon his return." With a perfectly executed bow he left the room with Dunwith close on his heels.

  The morning dawned gray and cloudy and by afternoon a fine rain fell over the countryside sprinkling the early summer flowers and leaving a light chill and fog in the air.

 

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