“Agreed.” Frederick stood as well. “Shall we go now? I am eager to see my daughter again.”
Alex remained seated, his mind awhirl as the two men discussed giving Diana into her father’s care. He had gotten used to having her with him and was loath to give her up. Still, it was only a temporary measure. Reluctantly, he got to his feet.
“My ship is anchored near Littleton’s Wharf.”
“Let us away then,” Frederick said eagerly.
Alex turned toward the door just as it was flung open. The pasty-faced clerk stumbled inside, a pistol at his back. Two rough-looking seamen followed him, one holding the weapon that so quailed the dutiful Milton. The other, a huge fellow with matted hair and an even dirtier beard, carried a blanket-wrapped bundle draped over his shoulder.
Alex stared at the bundle, noting that it was just the right size to be a person. A woman perhaps…
His blood froze. Diana. Was she safe aboard his ship, cursing him for not indulging her desire to see her father? Or had she somehow been lured away….
He could not finish the thought.
The brawny fellow shrugged, letting his burden fall to the floor at the men’s feet. The thing landed with a sickening thud that Alex had heard all too often in battle. The thud of lifeless human flesh hitting hard wood.
“A gift for ye,” the shorter man sneered, revealing black holes where he had once had teeth. His ragged clothing hung from his scrawny frame, but his skeletal fingers looked strong and sure on the hammer of the pistol. “From Marcus.”
“You will dangle for this outrage—both of you!” Morgan roared. “And that devil you call master along with you!”
The two laughed. The smaller one pointed his pistol at the lieutenant-governor and fired. Morgan dived for the floor. Alex took a step forward and found the pistol pointed at his chest.
“I wouldn’t do that,” the smaller man cackled. “Ye have to open your present. Marcus sends his regards.” He fired wildly at Alex, causing him to duck, then the two men turned and fled the room.
“Aren’t you going after them?” Frederick demanded. “They might lead you to Marcus.”
“No.” Alex knelt down. Slowly, carefully, he set about untying the rope that secured the blanket. He heard Morgan come up behind him just as the last knot gave way. The edges of the covering fell open.
“Sweet Jesus,” Frederick whispered, his voice thick with horror.
“The bastard is an animal,” Morgan growled.
Alex only stared. Black hair, he realized with mind-numbing relief. Not red.
The girl had been pretty once, Alex thought. Before Marcus had sliced her into something barely recognizable as human. He reached out and gently closed her blank, staring eyes.
A choking sound drew his attention to the clerk. The young man turned away from the body and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach behind Morgan’s desk.
“Blast it all, Milton!” Morgan muttered.
Alex turned back to the body and started to wrap the blanket around the girl once more.
“What kind of monster is Marcus?” Frederick whispered, his face still chalky from shock. “To think, he had my Diana at his mercy…” He looked at Alex. “I thank you, sir, for saving my daughter’s life. If she had stayed with him…”
“I know.” Alex tightened his lips. “I have seen Marcus’s handiwork before.”
“Thank God Diana is safe aboard your ship,” Frederick continued. “I thought for a moment…”
“So did I.” Alex stood and looked down at the blanket-wrapped corpse. He, too, had feared the worst.
Frederick let out a relieved breath. “And now, gentlemen, if you do not mind, I have a most urgent need to see my daughter.”
“Completely understand,” Morgan agreed. “Milton, clean up this mess, eh?”
The clerk blanched at the order and rushed behind Morgan’s desk again.
The ex-buccaneer snorted with disgust. “He wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes under my command. Back to your post, Milton!”
The clerk scurried from the room, still shaking from the horrors he had observed. In the doorway, he nearly ran right over the dark-haired man entering the room.
“Alex!” Birk swiped a hand over his sweaty brow, panting with exertion.
Morgan glared at Alex. “Blast it all, man!” he thundered. “Did you bespeak your whereabouts to every fool on the streets?”
“Calm yourself, Sir Henry,” Alex reassured him. “This is Birk Fraser, my ship’s surgeon.”
“Hmph.” Morgan scowled as Birk came forward.
“Alex.” Birk stopped before him, his eyes solemn. “She’s gone.”
“What!”
The Scot held up a folded piece of paper. “And this just arrived, pinned tae the bodies o’ Fernandez and Latierre.”
Alex took the paper. His fingers trembled. “What happened?”
“From what I ken,” Birk explained, “the lassie heard that her father was ill and near tae dyin’. She went tae see him afore he breathed his last. Latierre and Fernandez went wi’ her.”
“I am her father,” Frederick spoke up. “And as you can see I am in perfect health.”
“‘Twas no doubt a ruse devised by Marcus,” Morgan said. “That spawn of Satan will dangle for this, I swear it.”
Alex stared at the note, his mind numb as he realized what Birk had just told them. Marcus had Diana.
“Are ye goin’ tae open that, Alex?”
“Aye, man,” Morgan urged. “Let’s hear what the bastard has to say.”
Slowly Alex unfolded the note. Something fell from within the creases of the paper. He glanced down. A lock of curling red hair drifted gently down to coil over the blanket-clad body.
Alex forgot about the note. He could only stare at the coppery strands as they rested upon the brown blanket-shroud of the murdered girl. Diana, he thought with growing anguish. Dear Lord. Diana.
Dimly he heard Morgan demanding something, Frederick chiming in. But their words disappeared in the growing terror that rose like a storm within him. Marcus had Diana.
“I’ll read the blasted thing,” Morgan announced. He snatched the note away. Alex barely noticed. Bending, he carefully took the lock of hair in his hand. He stroked it with one finger, remembering how he had loved the feel of Diana’s fiery mane spread over his chest.
Morgan cleared his throat and read, “Chilton’s estate. Your lady awaits. And this time, to the death.”
To the death. Alex watched how the hair curled over his finger. Aye. This time Marcus would die. Even if Alex had to sacrifice his own life to ensure it.
“What’s this?” he heard Birk say.
“A woman who had this misfortune to encounter Marcus,” Morgan replied. “Have a care, man. ‘Tis not a pretty sight.”
“I’m a physician, sir, and quite used to….sweet Jesu!”
“Warned you,” Morgan said.
Birk briefly examined the woman, then covered her again and looked up to meet Alex’s gaze. “Good God, he’s findin’ ways tae keep them alive longer.”
Alex closed his eyes, anguish and fear blocking any coherent thought. No longer was this a game of cat and mouse. It was about life.
And death.
“I’m thinkin’ on how he lured the lassie away,” Birk said, standing. He gripped Alex’s arm, forcing him to open his eyes. “Ye might remember that Fernandez was the only survivor the day Marcus escaped from ye.”
“Treachery,” Morgan growled. “The poxy wretch must have been in league with Marcus the whole time.”
“Aye, that’s my thinkin.” Birk studied Alex with concern.
Alex turned from his friend’s perceptive gaze and came face to face with Diana’s father.
“Do you mean to tell me,” Frederick said with growing agitation, “that one of your men betrayed you, and now that foul creature has my daughter?”
“Yes.” Alex met the accusation in the man’s eyes without flinching. The emotions he saw in Fr
ederick’s expression echoed his own fear and shock.
“Then as captain, you are responsible for the actions of your men,” Frederick charged. “And Diana’s fate as well.”
“Now just a bloody minute—” Birk began.
“No, Birk. He is right. I should have foreseen this.” Alex took a deep breath, trying to quell the unfamiliar feelings that restrained him from action. He was more used to charging forward, but the burden of guilt proved too heavy to bear into battle.
Frederick pointed a finger at Alex. “If anything happens to my daughter—”
“Stop this at once!” Morgan thundered. “While we stand here casting blame, the blackguard yet escapes us. We must ride for Chilton’s estate immediately!”
“Chilton!” Frederick snarled. “I’ll throttle that primping popinjay for this! If Diana is harmed, neither he nor Marcus will live to see the sun rise.”
“I will summon a patrol of my best men,” Morgan stated, clapping a hand on his sword hilt. “This time the scurvy knave will not escape!”
“I demand that you let me pass!” The feminine voice carried clearly from outside Morgan’s office.
“Bloody hell.” Frederick shook his head and sent Morgan an apologetic glance. “Sir Henry, that shrieking harpy is Maude Dunstan, my wife’s cousin. She is also Diana’s companion, and somewhat outspoken on the subject of piracy.”
“You tell that brigand to admit me, young man!” Maude shouted. “I have very powerful friends within the Jamaica Assembly!”
Morgan scowled. “I have no time to argue politics, Frederick, much less with a loud-mouthed shrew. In case you have forgotten, your daughter’s life is in jeopardy.”
“I am well aware that Diana’s life is in danger, Sir Henry! I will deal with Maude.”
“And I will muster the patrol.”
Alex heard their voices from what seemed a long distance away. Diana’s companion…life in jeopardy…Diana’s life is in danger…no time to argue politics…no time…
There was no time.
Alex shook off the apathy that gripped him. There was no time to wait for the patrol or for Frederick to deal with his argumentative relative. Every second that passed brought Diana closer to death at Marcus’s hands.
“Out of my way!” A series of thuds sounded from outside the office.
Alex tucked the lock of hair away in his coin purse. Without a word to anyone, he started for the window. Birk grabbed his sleeve as he swung one leg over the sill.
“Alex, what’s the matter wi’ ye? I’ve ne’er seen ye so rattled.”
“I’m all right.” He paused. “Tell McBride to bring the Vengeance to that stretch of beach near Chilton’s estate. I have a feeling the Renegade will be waiting there.”
Birk gaped at him. “Ye dinna think tae confront that madman in this condition?”
“This is between Marcus and me and no one else.” Alex heard the door to the office crash open. “Follow with Morgan’s troops if you wish, but have a care to pass on my orders to McBride first.”
“But—”
“Farewell, Birk.” Alex slipped out the window just as Diana’s companion burst into the room. Her voice carried to him as he ran for Frederick’s mount.
“Look at the lot o’ ye, standin’ about while ma bairn is nowhere tae be found! Is there no man who means tae save ma poor Diana’s life?”
She continued to harangue them, Morgan’s vehement disclaimers going virtually unnoticed. Alex wheeled the bay stallion around and set off for Chilton’s estate.
It was a good day to die.
Chapter Nineteen
Chilton looked up from the papers on his desk as Marcus dragged Diana into the library, Scroggins bringing up the rear. The nobleman gaped and sprang to his feet, his chair skidding backward. “What the devil are you doing here?”
“I have brought your bride, Peter.” Marcus shoved Diana between her shoulder blades. “Summon the reverend. I am eager to claim my reward.”
Diana caught her balance by grabbing the edge of the desk. She glared at Chilton. “What is he talking about?”
“Nothing.” Chilton came out from behind the desk. “I offered him payment if he recovered you from El Moreno.” He caressed her cheek. “That vermin did not harm you, did he?”
She slapped his hand away. “Which vermin would that be, my lord? El Moreno or the one you hired?”
“Now Diana…”
“I gave you no permission to address me so personally, my lord. I demand that you return me to my father at once!”
“You are in no position to make demands.” Marcus’s voice rang with leisurely menace as he seated himself. “Give me use of a room, Peter, and I shall work some of that arrogance out of her.”
Diana eyed him with revulsion. “You can try.”
Marcus threw back his head and laughed. “Still she spits at me! I shall enjoy breaking you, my love.”
Chilton stepped between them before Diana could retort. He took her hand. “You are overset, my dear. I shall have one of the servants escort you to a room to rest.”
“Scroggins can do it.” Marcus glanced at the seaman and jerked his head toward Diana.
Chilton frowned. “I do not trust him.”
“Nonsense, Peter.” Marcus steepled his fingers. “Scroggins will not harm the wench. He knows better than to disobey my direct orders.”
“I heard no orders.” Chilton held Marcus’s stare until perspiration dripped down the fop’s face. After a long tense moment during which Diana held her breath, Marcus broke the eye contact and turned to his henchman.
“You will not touch her, not so much as a finger, Scroggins, or you will answer to me.”
“Aye, cap’n.”
Scroggins reached to take Diana’s arm, then pulled back at the last moment. Instead he gestured for her to precede him.
“The second door at the top of the staircase,” Chilton directed.
Diana did not move. “What if I refuse?”
The seaman laid a hand on the butt of his pistol. “I don’t have to touch ye to shoot ye.”
She swallowed and glanced at Chilton. Of all of them, he seemed the most sympathetic to her plight.
He took her hand. “Marcus means to have you,” he murmured in a voice too low for the other men to overhear. “But if you consent to marry me, I will protect you.”
Never, her mind screamed. She bit back her revulsion and forced herself to smile at him. “I will consider it.” She pulled her hand from his. With one last wary look at Marcus, she followed Scroggins from the room.
As soon as she was gone, Chilton whirled on Marcus. “You fool! You almost ruined everything!”
Marcus folded his hands over his stomach and rested one foot on the knee of the opposite leg. “I merely want what is mine, Peter.”
“Damn it all, Simon! We have a bargain. Before you can have her, she must be my wife. Otherwise you will not see one gold piece from her dowry.”
Marcus grew very still. “How many times have I warned you not to call me that?”
Chilton stared with wide eyes and open mouth. “I’m s-s-sorry. It just…slipped out.”
Marcus unsheathed his knife and began to scrape the mud from his boots. “You grow bold, Peter.”
Chilton watched the clumps of partially dried mud drop on his expensive carpet. Sunlight glinted off the blade, as if flashing a warning. “I-I merely wish for things to progress as they should.”
Marcus held up his dagger and blew flecks of dried mud from the blade. “As do I.”
“We are in agreement then.” Chilton smoothed the chocolate brown velvet of his coat, surreptitiously wiping the dampness from his palms. “I will instruct the servants to bring refreshments for you, Si—I mean, Marcus. I will also send for the reverend.”
“Excellent. You are learning, Peter.” Marcus tossed the knife and caught it, then slid it into its sheath. “Let us hope you survive the lesson.”
Diana Markham, Marchioness of Chilton. Wife to
Peter Markham. Mistress of a vast estate. Mother of the future Marquis.
Not bloody likely.
Diana snorted and turned away from the window. She wandered through the garishly decorated bedroom in which she was imprisoned. The mere thought of wedding Chilton struck her as only slightly less pleasurable than having a thousand ants crawling over her bare skin. Never. Not if he were the last man on earth. Not even to save herself from Marcus.
She could never imagine marrying any man except Alex.
She didn’t delude herself into thinking that Alex desired marriage. Nay, if she stayed with him, it would no doubt be as his lover. Once a mistress, yet never a wife, she thought with a wistful smile. Still, it didn’t really bother her. As long as she was with Alex, as long as he still loved her and wanted her, she would remain by his side. They understood each other well, and didn’t necessarily need the trappings of wedded bliss to seal their commitment to each other. Still, she indulged her fantasies.
Where was he, she wondered, fingering the ostentatious crimson and gold bed curtains. She knew he would come. There was no doubt in her mind. Yet as long as Marcus held her prisoner, Alex would be at a disadvantage.
She realized that she was crushing the velvet drape in her hand and abruptly let it go. She would not stand about waiting to be rescued, she decided. Alex would be safer going up against Marcus if the pirate could no longer use her as leverage against her beloved. Besides, there was no telling what Marcus and Chilton planned for her. As of yet, they did not know that she was aware of their conspiracy to blackmail her father. It would be best to slip away now, before they learned of it.
She evaluated her circumstances. She had heard Chilton dismiss the servants, so she knew that only the four of them remained in the house. Scroggins guarded her door, so that meant Marcus and Chilton were probably somewhere on the first floor.
The first order of business was to escape from the room. She thought for a moment, then smiled as a plan formed in her mind. She made certain that all the items she needed were at hand, then she called out for Scroggins.
The repulsive little man opened the door. “What the devil are ye squawkin’ about?”
Once a Mistress Page 23