The Buccaneer

by Donna Fletcher

  Cozy and warm, Catherine sat by the hearth in the drawing room, the flames chasing away the dampness.

  Lorna Belford, gray-haired and dressed in her Sunday best, sat stiff and straight on the settee directly across from the hearth. Her short legs, Catherine noticed, were stretched out with her damp boots tilted toward the fire to dry. "I don't know what your want from me," Lorna said apprehensively and with an edge of defense.

  Catherine had sat up in bed most of the previous night preparing for this meeting. She had compiled an endless list of questions and written numerous reasons as to why she sought to discuss the Darcmoors with a former servant of theirs. Now faced with the prospect of discovering information of Lucian's and her father's past she faltered, fearful of what she might learn.

  "I don't know anything, m’ lady," Lorna insisted when Catherine didn't respond.

  Catherine regained her courage. "With the new earl in residence at Brynwood I thought it would be best to learn about his family before inviting him to a small dinner gathering I have planned."

  Lorna nodded. Social status she understood.

  Catherine had Dulcie pour them tea and Lorna began to relax, enjoying the luxury of being served instead of being the server.

  “Marissa Darcmoor was a beautiful woman with the most uncommon hair color I had ever laid my eyes on. Blood-red. The servants would whisper with envy about it."

  Catherine smiled, wondering if her child would inherit Lucian's unique hair color.

  "The earl, Elliot Darcmoor, was a strange one if you'll excuse me for saying so, m’ lady," Lorna said with a nod, and reached for a scone on the plate on the table in front of her. "I never did think he loved his wife. He treated her with an indifference that was downright mean and abusive. But oh, how she loved that son of hers."

  Catherine waited anxiously while Lorna chewed her scone.

  The elderly woman wiped her mouth with her napkin and continued. "He had the devil in him, he did. But he listened to his mother. His father —" Lorna shook her head. "His father didn't have an ounce of love in him for the boy. He acted as though the child wasn't his."

  Catherine felt a chill run over her.

  "Of course there were rumors, but then there are always rumors in a manor household. Some even talked of the woman Elliot Darcmoor kept two villages over." Lorna lowered her voice to a whisper. "There was even talk that the earl had fathered a child by his mistress."

  Lorna took another bite from her scone and followed it with a sip of tea. "Lucian grew into a fine young man, he did. A bit wild and fancy-free, but a fine, handsome man. He treated his mother royally and she loved him as only a mother could. Her heart broke when all the trouble started. Downright dirty business and unfair. Lucian may have got himself into some debt from time to time but he always paid off his debtors. There was no reason, no reason at all he should have been sold into servitude. His mother cried for weeks and then took ill. After that, Charles Darcmoor, a distant cousin, began to visit and soon the earl fired all the old servants. I moved on to Moulton Manor and heard of Lady Brynwood's passing while working there. I don't think she ever recovered from losing her son."

  Catherine listened to Lorna's story carefully. She asked the woman a few more questions, offered her another scone and more tea, and an hour later, bid her farewell and extended a special thank-you for all her help.

  "Dulcie," she said when the young woman came to clear away the tea tray. "Please tell Dunwith I wish to speak with him."

  Dulcie nodded and took herself and the tray off.

  Dunwith had been with her father since his youth. Which meant he would have knowledge of the incident at Brynwood and possibly the reason her father had signed that horrible paper. She should have considered this possibility sooner, but then perhaps she wouldn't have been prepared to confront Dunwith before now.

  "You wished to see me?" Dunwith asked, entering the room.

  "Close the door, Dunwith. I wish to speak with you."

  If her order disturbed him, he didn't show it. He did as directed and then came to stand in front of her.

  "Please be seated."

  He looked at Catherine as though she had lost her mind.

  "Be seated, Dunwith, that's an order,” she said sternly, reminding herself of Lucian and his authoritative tone.

  Dunwith complied and sat on the settee, stiff and proper.

  "I need answers, Dunwith. My father refuses to give them to me. Lucian is filled with anger and I fear a confrontation between him and my father is imminent. I need to know what happened in the past that caused the problem we all now face today."

  Dunwith remained silent.

  Catherine sighed. "I feared you would not cooperate with me. I know how loyal you are to my father and I admire that loyalty. I too sought to protect my father. Shall I detail the cost of that protection to you?"

  For the first time in all the years Catherine had known Dunwith his stoic expression faltered and he stared at her with wide eyes. "It isn't necessary, my lady."

  "But it is necessary if you persist in refusing to discuss this matter with me," she insisted.

  "It is not my place."

  "I understand how you feel, but please understand my predicament. I carry Lucian Darcmoor's child."

  Dunwith blushed.

  "Lucian is the pirate Lucifer and he seeks revenge against my father. I need to know the reason behind this hatred and only you can provide the missing information that will unlock the secret and allow me to understand how this whole mess began. Then possibly more hurt and suffering can be averted and everyone can begin to heal."

  Dunwith stared at her with what Catherine could have sworn was admiration.

  "Help me, Dunwith. Please."

  Dunwith thought a moment, nodded, and slowly unraveled a tale that brought tears to Catherine' eyes and understanding to her heart.

  "M’ lady, excuse me," Dulcie said peeking her head into the room thirty minutes later. "Here's a package for you from the Earl of Brynwood. It was left for you with an urgent message that you open it immediately."

  Dunwith stood.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  He nodded and took the package from Dulcie as she approached, then handed it to Catherine. "Would you prefer I open it?"

  She shook her head, unwrapping the plain brown paper to reveal a black velvet box. She lifted the lid with a shaky hand, stopping a moment to take a deep breath.

  What had Lucian sent her and why? Her trembling hand proceeded to open the lid farther and when her eyes caught sight of the contents, she gasped.

  She dropped the box to her lap as she lifted the long strand of pearls from inside, letting them wrap around her fingers and fall over her wrist and down her arm.

  "He's coming for me," she whispered. "Lucifer is coming for me."

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  "Shh, you're going to wake the whole bloody household," Bones whispered, giving a poke to Jolly's belly.

  Jolly ignored the jab, sniffed the air, and walked to the source of the tempting aroma. "Fruit tarts."

  "Shhh," Bones warned again. "We should have never come through the cooking quarters. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I heard you sniffing like a bloodhound."

  Jolly spoke in the same low tone as Bones. "Haven't had fresh fruit tarts since —"

  "Since last week when that Bertha woman over at the captain's manor made them for you. Now quit sniffing out food. We have work to do, and remember the captain's warning."

  Jolly reluctantly withdrew his hand from the cherry tart.

  "The captain will have our heads if we don't bring his lady to him safe and sound. And besides, don't you want to go home? I hate this bloody place."

  "I'm with you on that and anyway the tarts back home are a lot sweeter and meatier than the tarts they make here."

  "Good, then let's get Lady Catherine and get going," Bones said, moving around the large wood table and toward the door.

  "You think she's in her bedroom?"
Jolly whispered as they entered the hallway.

  "Where else would she be this late at night?'

  "We'll have to wake her," Jolly said as he walked on tiptoes behind Bones, rounding the staircase to climb to the second floor.

  "We'll be gentle," Bones assured him, about to climb the stairs.

  "That won't be necessary, gentleman."

  Both men collided with each other in their haste to turn. Jolly's bigger and wider girth sent Bones to bounce on his bottom.

  Catherine stood and walked out of the corner shadows. The full moon cast enough light through the tall narrow windows in the dining room that it extended into the entrance foyer, bathing the three in a dim light.

  Bones rushed to his feet, his eyes widening with Jolly's as they took notice of Catherine's rounded stomach.

  Catherine placed a protective hand on her belly, smoothing the pink linen smock she had placed over the lavender shift Dulcie had stitched to accommodate her expanding waistline and give her more comfort when sleeping.

  "The captain didn't tell us she was with child," Jolly said nervously to Bones.

  "The captain doesn't know," Catherine informed both men.

  Each man looked at one another and shook their heads.

  "Where is the captain?" she asked wearily, tired from her late-night vigil.

  Bones answered. "He's at the cove waiting for us to bring you there."

  "And if I refuse to go with you?"

  Bewildered, both men stared at her.

  Jolly finally spoke, removing his stocking cap to twist it nervously in his hand. "The captain says we were to bring you back or else. We have no choice. We've got to bring you to the cove."

  Bones agreed. "Jolly's right. The captain, he was adamant about us returning with you. We can't fail him."

  Catherine sighed. She had realized she had no choice but to confront Lucian tonight. She had planned to stay hidden in the night shadows and demand that he talk with her father and settle this problem once and for all. Whether she would have been successful in convincing him or not was another matter, but then that depended on why he had come to England in the first place.

  "Why are you to meet him at the cove with me?"

  Bones looked down at his scuffed boot when he spoke. "Guess he feels it's the safest place."

  Catherine immediately worried for his safety. "He's all right, isn't he? No one knows of his identity?"

  "Always best to be safe than sorry," Jolly said, "Why don't we just take you to him and then you two can talk."

  Bones rushed to agree. "Right he be, mum. Let's get you to the captain."

  Catherine hesitated. She felt safe in her house, but down by the cove, by the sea where he was so much at home, he'd have a distinct advantage. But she needed to talk with him, convince him that he must speak with her father. He had to learn the truth. He had to. Then he could heal and possibly one day forgive.

  "Let me change my slippers to ankle boots and get my cloak. I'll only be a moment," she said.

  The two men separated, clearing a path to the stairs for her. She disappeared into the darkness and they anxiously paced the entrance hall waiting for her to return.

  "What do you think the captain will do when he sees her condition?" Jolly asked.

  "Don't know," Bones said softly. "But I do know one thing."

  Jolly quit pacing. "What?"

  "The captain loves her."

  Both men smiled and sat on the bottom step to wait for Catherine to return.

  Catherine wrapped her long black cloak around her, concealing her stomach and warding off the late-night chill from the sea. Bones and Jolly fussed after her as they walked with her to the cove.

  "Be careful."

  "Watch your step."

  "Take your time."

  "Do you need to rest?"

  Their concern and attentiveness was touching, but worrisome. She didn't want Lucian to learn of the baby. Not yet, not until the matter between her father and him was settle.

  The full moon played tricks against the light fog that blanketed the cove, making it difficult to see the shoreline and anyone standing along it.

  Catherine grew fearful as she walked closer to the sea. The dampness seeped beneath her cape and chilled her skin to gooseflesh. She took several more steps, the sand soggy under her feet.

  A gust of wind rushed in from the sea across the shore, whipping her cape around her and sending her silver hair flying about her face. As the wind settled, a tall figure stepped out of the darkness and advanced on her.

  "Catherine."

  She halted where she stood, his strong voice sending her legs to trembling. And when he walked fully out of the shadows he stood before her as Captain Lucifer, the legendary pirate.

  A single braid ran down the side of his blood red hair, he wore tight black breeches and black boots. A white shirt lay open to the black sash that encircled his waist. He looked dangerous, a force to consider, and certainly not an equal opponent for a pregnant woman who was madly in love with him.

  "Lucian," she managed to say without the quiver that ran through her reaching her voice.

  "I have attempted repeatedly to see you." He walked closer to her, standing only a few feet away. "I had been told you were ill."

  "I'm feeling better."

  "Good, then the voyage will be pleasant for you."

  "What voyage?" she asked tensely.

  "I'm taking you home."

  "I am home."

  He shook his head. "No, you're not."

  She felt her heartbeat quicken and her pulse race. "Yes, I am, Lucian."

  "No, Catherine. There is much to settle between us."

  She took a step back. "Settle matters with my father first."

  His features hardened in anger. "Your father and I have nothing to discuss. It is you and I that concern me."

  She inched back away from him with another step. "I have nothing to say to you. Speak with my father."

  "To bloody hell with your father. It is you I wish to talk with."

  Bones and Jolly hurried around the captain.

  Bones attempted to speak. "Captain, there's something that —"

  "Prepare the longboat and be quick about it," Lucian snapped.

  "But, Captain, you should know —"

  "Not now, Bones."

  Jolly tried to grab the captain's attention. "Captain, it's important —"

  He turned on the two of them, his look as cold as ice. "Do as you're ordered, now!"

  Catherine sighed with relief, aware that the men were attempting to warn him of her condition.

  "Say your piece and be on your way, Lucian," Catherine said bravely even though her legs still trembled.

  "The hell I will," he said. "You'll come back with me to Heaven and we will settle this torturing matter once and for all."

  "I will not return with you. I am staying here with my father," she insisted, wishing she could convince him to meet with her father and learn the truth.

  "Not likely, Catherine." His hand sprang forward like a snake striking its victim.

  Her wrist locked in his powerful grip. "Let me go, Lucian."

  "No."

  His simple refusal frightened her. It was issued with a deadly calmness that warned of his determination. "Let me go," she said again and yanked fiercely to free herself.

  "You're coming with me," he said, her wrist firmly clenched in his hand, her efforts useless.

  Panic seized her. If he succeeded he would learn of the baby. Then what? "You can't force me," she cried.

  He laughed in a low rumble. "So soon you forget you were my captive once before. You think me incapable of capturing you again?"

  "Don't do this, Lucian," she pleaded.

  "You leave me no choice, Catherine." He pulled her to walk alongside him.

  She ripped at his fingers holding her wrists. "Let me go. Please, you don't understand."

  "No, I don't," he said, dragging her along with him. "I haven't understood anything since
the day I met you. You have bewildered and bewitched me."

  She raced to keep up with his long strides, her back and legs aching. "Lucian," she cried, but he ignored her and pulled her to the shore where the longboat sat waiting.

  Bones and Jolly exchanged worried glances when they saw the struggling couple approach.

  Lucian swung her carelessly up and into the boat. Catherine settled her cape more closely around her and hugged the side of the seat he had deposited her on. What was she to do now?

  Her mind raced frantically for a solution. She had been stupid for coming here with Bones and Jolly. She should have refused to accompany them. Then Lucian would have had no choice but to seek her out. At least then she would have had the safety of her house and the servants around her. Lord, had she been foolish.

  The boat rocked and dipped as it headed away from the shore.

  Catherine huddled in her cape, her hand on her stomach. Truth be told, she wanted to see Lucian. She missed him. Seeing him in London had only made her realize just how much she missed him.

  Lucian settled himself next to her on the seat. "Cold?" he asked.

  "No," she said, and kept her head turned from him. The longboat rose and fell against the rough sea as the men struggled to row it out to the ship.

  She wondered how her father would react when he learned of her abduction. Would he demand her return? Would he attempt to follow her?

  A light rain began to fall and the boat continued its struggle. Catherine's stomach began to protest the uneasy motion. She rubbed her belly, hoping to ease her queasiness. It did little good. Her condition worsened. She felt horrible, as if at any moment she would be violently ill.

  A soft moan ran from her lips.

  "Catherine?" Lucian questioned, looking down at her.

  Catherine kept her face averted from him, fearful of showing her distress.

  "Catherine, look at me," he ordered sternly.

  She couldn't turn her head if she wanted to. She had no doubt that within seconds she would retch terribly.

  "Catherine." His hand to her chin forced her to turn her head.

  "I'm going to be ill," she said softly, and rushed to drop her head over the side of the boat.

  Lucian moved closer beside her, slipping one hand inside her cape to wrap around her stomach for support. His hand stilled as his fingers splayed over her rounded belly. "Good God, Catherine, when didn't you tell me?"