Once a Mistress

by Debra Mullins

  “No time.” Alex slipped through the doors and picked up Marcus’s trail. He would rescue Diana. And then Marcus would die…whatever the cost.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Blast those scurvy bastards!” Marcus stood on the beach and studied the horizon. “Where the devil are they? I told them to meet me here.”

  Diana turned her gaze from the empty sea and looked back up the rocky incline they had just descended. At any moment she expected to see a familiar figure in black appear atop the craggy cliff. She wished she could summon him with sheer force of will. But wishes were as plentiful as the sand that surrounded them. Reality was Marcus’s bruising hold on her arm.

  “It seems we must wait. Whatever shall we do with the time?” Marcus turned his attention from the horizon to smirk at her. “What say you we begin the festivities while we await my ship?”

  “I say no.”

  “Ah, such fire in you, my dear.” Marcus forced her chin up and smiled into her eyes. “You add spice to the feast.”

  “Add this to your feast.” She kicked him hard in the shin.

  Savagery twisted his expression. “So. You wish to play, do you? So be it.” With his clenched hands, he ripped open her gown to the waist, breaking the laces and tearing the fragile chemise to leer at her bare breasts.

  She fought him, cursing him, using every dirty trick her father had taught her. He laughed and jerked her hard against him.

  “Resist,” he grated in her ear, his voice gritty with lust. “Scratch me. Bite me. ‘Twill make the conquest so much sweeter.”

  Tears streamed down her face as she struggled against him. He squeezed her sensitive breasts. The rough skin of his hands chafed the tender flesh, and he twisted her nipples roughly, sending shards of pain splintering along her nerve endings. His open mouth crushed hers, his teeth digging into the lips she tried to close against him, his tongue finally taking victory and thrusting into her mouth until she could barely breathe. The threat of his hardened sex rubbing against her hip sent new terror streaking through her. Suddenly she was free.

  “I shall enjoy breaking you,” he said with a smile. Then he backhanded her across the face, sending her sprawling into the sand. “I shall make you forget that coward you spread your legs for.”

  Diana sat up. She touched her throbbing mouth, and her fingers came away stained with blood. “You are not half the man he is!”

  “Whore!” he snarled. He dropped to his knees beside her. “There are many ways to cause pain, my dear. And I look forward to showing you all of them.” He shoved her skirts upward.

  “Marcus!”

  The pirate jerked his head up at the shout. He cursed and rose to his feet. Diana looked past him to see Alex scrabbling down the last few feet of the rocky incline that led to the beach. Her heart soared.

  “I should have known better than to trust Scroggins to kill him. I shall have to take care of the matter myself.” Marcus drew his sword.

  “Alex!” Diana scrambled to her feet, holding the torn edges of her garments together.

  “Diana.” He came to her. Cupping her cheek, he slid his dark gaze over her, touching on her ruined clothing and bleeding lip. His jaw tightened. “I love you,” he said softly. “And my one regret is that I didn’t have the chance to wed you.”

  “Oh, Alex.” Tears stung her eyes. She laid her hand over his, but he pulled away. Puzzled by his withdrawal, she watched in confusion while he turned to Marcus, every muscle in his body taut. Drawing his sword, he touched the blade to his forehead in mocking salute.

  “To the death,” he challenged.

  “Aye.” Marcus copied the gesture. “To your death.”

  A small, cold smile tugged at Alex’s lips. “Perhaps.”

  As if by some unspoken signal, the battle began.

  Dear Lord. Alex thought to die this day.

  Clutching her bodice closed, Diana moved back from the fray. Steel hissed against steel as the two men advanced and retreated. Tension hummed like a live thing between them. Death was in the air. But whose?

  Diana worried her lower lip between her teeth as she watched Alex. Something was wrong. She had seen him combat Marcus before, the day he had rescued her from the Renegade. He had laughed then. Smiled. Thoroughly enjoyed the duel as if it were no more than an amusing exercise. But this time he did not laugh. His smiles were cold, calculated and false. This was no entertaining game he played. This time, he was serious.

  This time he fought to the death.

  She recalled the look in his eyes when he had first seen her ripped clothing and bloody mouth. He had looked murderous. Then an icy mask had slipped into place. She realized as she watched him, as she noticed the tension of his body, the emptiness in his eyes, that he was not in control. Emotion drove him, pain and rage, and that could mean his downfall.

  Perhaps she should not have fought Marcus so hard, she thought with sudden panic. Perhaps if she had not caused Marcus to become violent, Alex might not have gone over the edge.

  Fear gripped her. Without control, he would make mistakes. And that could mean his death.

  Steel clanged. She watched the two men circle, her eyes fixed on Alex as he countered every one of Marcus’s moves. She had noted once before that the two men were evenly matched in their skills. Alex had won the duel that day. But today? She truly dreaded the outcome.

  Marcus lunged suddenly and slashed. Alex hissed in pain. Blood welled from a slice in his upper arm.

  “First blood to me,” Marcus sneered. “But not nearly enough to suit me.”

  Alex pressed his lips together. “First blood,” he agreed. Then he went at Marcus, his blade flashing in the sunlight.

  Diana bit back a whimper as the blood slowly soaked Alex’s sleeve. Already he lost his edge. She wanted to cry, rant, vent her emotions. But she dared not distract Alex.

  She hugged herself as she watched the two men. The battle swept them up and down the beach, the surf licking at their boots and the sand sticking to them. Alex’s weapon appeared a flashing blur as he attacked and retreated. Marcus thrust. Alex whirled and came around to meet steel with steel. They locked together, sword to sword and shoulder to shoulder.

  “I shall enjoy your whore,” Marcus taunted. “Mayhap I shall take her as you slowly bleed to death, that you might enjoy her screams as you breathe your last.”

  Alex grew stone-faced. “You will be dead,” he said in a flat voice. Then he shoved Marcus, breaking them apart.

  Marcus landed on his back in the sand, his sword falling from his grasp. Alex stumbled backwards but quickly regained his balance. He wiped his arm over his sweaty forehead as his opponent got to his feet.

  “Such honor,” Marcus jeered. “I would have finished you off, had our situations been reversed.”

  “That is the difference between us, Marcus.”

  “Ha!” Marcus eased into a fighting stance, his free hand fisted at his side. “Your precious scruples can keep you company in Hell!” He jerked his hand forward, flinging sand into Alex’s face.

  Alex cried out and clawed at his eyes.

  Marcus grinned and aimed his sword at Alex’s heart.

  “Look out!” Diana screamed.

  As the villain followed through on his thrust, Alex dropped to his hands and knees. The blade whished harmlessly over his head, and Marcus tripped over him. With a muffled curse, the pirate tumbled into the sand once more.

  Blinking rapidly, Alex struggled to his feet. Marcus rose as well. The two staggered for a moment, the fury of their fight obviously a physical drain on both men. Marcus looked at Alex, his eyes narrowing with pure hate. He lunged.

  Alex spun out of the way. Marcus’s blade missed his chest by inches.

  “You are damnably hard to kill,” the pirate complained, once more bringing his sword to bear.

  “Too much of a challenge?” Tears streamed down Alex’s face from the sand that had irritated his eyes, but Diana could tell as he focused on Marcus that his vision had returned. />
  “Weep not,” Marcus crooned with a mocking grin. “I promise to kill you quickly.”

  Alex gave him a chilly smile. “I promise to just kill you.”

  Marcus came at him. The combat escalated into a storm of rapid moves and clashing blades. Neither gave quarter. The surf erased the footprints they made in the wet sand as each strived to gain the upper hand.

  The boom of a canon thundered over the roar of the sea. The Renegade appeared just off shore, the Vengeance hard on her tail. A wisp of smoke trailed from the deck of Alex’s ship.

  “How touching,” Marcus taunted. “Your crew shall die with you.”

  As he spoke, the Renegade fired on the Vengeance. Only a sharp maneuver prevented her from being hit broadside. Water sprayed upwards as the cannonball landed in the ocean.

  “Perhaps not,” Alex quipped.

  Marcus roared with rage and came at him, beginning the battle anew.

  “Diana!”

  Diana looked up, stunned to see both Maude and Sir Henry Morgan scrabbling down the rocky path to the beach. They were followed by a dozen soldiers from Fort Charles, one of whom pushed a prisoner before him. Limping behind the entourage and still halfway up the slope was her father. She waved, hurrying forward to meet them.

  “Maude!”

  “Ma bairn!” Maude embraced her with a strength that defied her small stature. “Thank the Lord ye’re safe.” Gray eyes so like Diana’s own widened with shock as the older woman took in Diana’s condition. “What the devil happened tae ye?”

  “Marcus,” Diana said.

  “Wait until yer father sees this,” Maude predicted darkly. “Ye’re lucky he twisted his ankle on some loose stones and canna see ye from that distance.” Taking a lacy handkerchief from the sleeve of her serviceable gray gown, Maude began to dab at Diana’s lip. “Mayhap we can repair the damage afore he sees ye.”

  “‘Twill take more than that,” Morgan interceded, indicating Diana’s torn gown.

  Maude snorted. “If you were the gentleman ye claimed tae be, Henry Morgan, ye’d give the lassie yer coat.”

  Morgan scowled at Maude, but shed his coat and offered it to Diana.

  “Thank you,” she said, shrugging into it. Then she looked for her father. He slowly made his way down the cliff, stopping often to rest his bad ankle. She waved to him. He returned the greeting.

  “And when will ye be putting an end tae this foolishness?” Maude demanded of Morgan, indicating the sword fight. “Or did ye even mean tae arrest Marcus tae begin with?”

  “Of course I mean to arrest him!” Morgan snapped back. “Should he survive the battle, Marcus will stand trial for his crimes. As will this pathetic wretch.” The ex-buccaneer indicated Scroggins.

  The henchman overheard the remark and glared. “And what about him? What about El Moreno? Is he goin’ to hang as well?”

  “El Moreno!” Maude exclaimed. “What does he have to do with anything?”

  “Everythin’! He’s right there, crossin’ swords with the cap’n!”

  “What!” Maude whirled on Morgan. “That man is El Moreno?”

  “‘Tis the bleedin’ truth,” Scroggins swore.

  “Sir Henry, I demand you take those men into custody!” Maude put her hands on her hips. “Or did you mean to ‘let’ them escape?”

  “I intended no such thing,” Morgan roared. “Woman, you go too far!”

  “The Assembly shall hear about this,” Maude threatened. “Those men should be taken and hanged at once!”

  “No!” Diana protested, tearing her gaze from the duel. “Maude, you do not understand. El Moreno saved my life! Does that not prove him an honorable man?”

  “Honorable!” Maude stared at Diana as if she had lost her wits. “Missy, that man is a pirate. A criminal! He must be arrested and hanged!”

  “Does it mean nothing to you that he saved my life?” Diana propped her hands on her hips. “Marcus would surely have killed me if not for him.”

  “But at what cost?” Maude demanded. “Yer reputation is in tatters now because o’ those two. Nae decent man will take ye tae wife now.”

  “Hang my reputation! I will not stand by and watch the man who saved my life be executed!” She turned to Morgan. “Sir Henry, he rescued me from certain death and did not harm me when he had the chance. Does that not mean anything to you?”

  “It will be taken into account.” Morgan watched the battle as he spoke to her, his expression grim.

  Maude came forward and took Diana’s arm. “Come, lassie. We’ll go home and ye can forget this unpleasantness.”

  “I will not go home. And I will thank you to stop treating me like a child, Maude.” Diana shook off the woman’s hold. “You are threatening to hang the man I love!”

  “Love!” Maude snorted. “Do ye think ye’re in one o’ yer daydreams, missy?”

  “On the contrary, except for Alex this whole thing has been a nightmare.”

  “Alex is it?” Maude splayed a hand over her bosom. “Are ye mad, girl? What did he do tae make ye say such things?”

  “He did nothing…even when I wanted him to!”

  Maude gasped. “Diana Margaret!”

  “Accept it, Maude. I want no man but him.” Diana crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture of finality.

  “Then ye’ll be disappointed,” Maude snapped. “The man is a criminal. Soon tae be a dead criminal. Is that no the way o’ it, Sir Henry?”

  Diana, Maude, Scroggins and all the soldiers looked at Morgan.

  “Sir?” the captain of the patrol asked. “Shall we apprehend El Moreno as well?”

  Morgan surveyed the faces of the people staring at him, form the patrol captain’s inquiring expression to Maude’s accusing one. He cleared his throat. “Of course we will take El Moreno into custody,” he announced.

  “No!” Diana cried.

  Maude took Diana’s arm and pulled her away from Morgan. “Ye’re overset, ma bairn. Let us leave this place.”

  “I am not overset!” Diana pulled loose of the dark-haired woman’s hold. “You are talking about executing the man I love. I’m staying.”

  “But—”

  “I am staying, Maude.” Chin jutting out in challenge, she crossed her arms over her chest. “It would take this whole patrol to forcibly bind me and carry me off to make me leave.”

  Maude sniffed and glared at Diana from her lesser height. “I’m of no size tae be draggin’ ye off by force, missy. We’ll see what yer father says when he gets here.”

  “Should we break this up, sir?” the captain of the patrol asked, indicating the swordsmen.

  “No.” Morgan focused on the battle. “I am curious as to who the victor will be. But the one who lives is going to swing.”

  “You would let them kill each other out of curiosity?” Diana exclaimed, appalled.

  “Young lady, I merely give the devil his due.”

  “Just as I telt ye,” Maude scoffed. “Pirates protect their own.”

  “Woman, that tongue of yours…”

  Diana turned away as the argument erupted. She searched out Alex and found him, keeping her gaze locked on him as he struggled between life and death. Behind the combatants, the two ships mirrored the struggle between good and evil.

  The smell of smoke drifted across the water. The guns boomed. Cannonballs whistled through the air. Distant cries of alarm sounded from the Renegade. Sails aflame, Marcus’s ship slowly sank into the sea.

  “No!” Marcus cried. He moved into a position where he could see his vessel without letting down his guard. Far away splashes indicated that Marcus’s crew was abandoning the sinking craft. “Damn your hide, El Moreno! This is your doing!”

  “No, Marcus.” Alex nimbly fended off his opponent’s wild swings. “This is your undoing.”

  “A pox on you! You think to take my life?”

  “As you have taken others’. As you tried to take Diana’s.” Alex countered Marcus’s attempt to slice open his chest.

&nbs
p; “So noble,” Marcus sneered, slashing at Alex’s midsection.

  Diana inhaled sharply, then slowly exhaled as Alex jumped back to avoid the blade. He immediately engaged Marcus again.

  “Tell me,” Marcus taunted. “Do you mean to avenge every death attributed to me?”

  “You killed my brother,” Alex growled. Violent emotion crossed his face. “And you meant to harm Diana as well. And for that you will die.”

  “Your brother?” Marcus swiftly eluded Alex’s thrust. “I have killed so many Spaniards, I cannot possibly remember them all.”

  “He wasn’t Spanish. He was English, aboard the Marie Louise out of France.” Alex’s breathing grew harsh as Marcus became more aggressive. His voice roughened. “You tied him naked to the mast and made him beg for his life. Then you butchered him, one body part at a time, and threw him to the sharks.”

  Diana’s heart clenched, echoing with the pain in Alex’s voice as he recited the horrors done to his brother. With each word that passed his lips, his movements grew more agitated, more frenzied. He was losing control, she realized with alarm.

  “Oh dear.” Marcus smiled. “Was that whining bugger your brother? How pitiful he was, crying for mercy like a woman. ‘Twas a relief when he finally died.”

  “You bastard,” Alex snarled.

  Marcus began to laugh. The sound grew louder and louder, drowning out the roar of the waves and the clash of the swords. As he gasped and howled as if demented, Marcus’s defense grew weaker. His guard dropped.

  Alex moved in for the kill.

  The laughter ceased. Marcus came around, his face a mask of mad determination. He swung a full circle, his blade arcing for Alex’s throat. Alex ducked. The sword whizzed over his head. He came up on the other side of Marcus’s arm and pivoted, bringing his own blade down to slice through muscle and bone. Marcus screamed in pain. His spasming fingers opened. His sword fell into the sand, and he dropped to his knees, holding his half-severed arm.

  Alex raised his sword.

  Diana held her breath. His face looked hard and fierce, primitive, like a warrior chieftain about to conquer his enemy. He stood there for a long moment, poised to deliver the killing blow to the foe who knelt weaponless at his feet.