Duke Of Deception (Wentworth Trilogy)

by Stephie Smith

  “Wheat?” Derek gave him a cool stare. A muscle in his jaw began to tic. “Exactly which wheat would that be? The wheat that belongs to my soon-to-be wife?”

  “It belongs to me,” Chelton replied with a smirk, “since it’s already been harvested and put into storage, and so does anything else at Stonecrest that I wish to remove before you take over my responsibilities.”

  Derek swallowed his anger lest he say something he might regret. The possibility was strong that Chelton was involved in the smuggling or was even the leader of the gang. Hell, he could even be the mysterious Summerfield; maybe that was a code name. Derek would be a fool to throw away the chance to discover information by alienating the man to the point that he’d seek another ship for his cargo. Still, Chelton wouldn’t expect him to respond in less than a forceful manner, given the circumstances.

  “I’ll keep your request in mind, my lord, but perhaps I’d better make something clear. As of this moment, every item, every crop, every piece of furnishing, equipment, and even the dung in the stable belongs to my future wife and to me. You’re being well paid to make your exit, and that’s exactly what I expect.”

  “As you wish,” Chelton replied with a smile that was a little too good-natured. He headed toward the door and stopped just as he reached it, turning around once again. “Oh, one other thing,” he said, his eyes shining with triumph. “I would have taken the ten thousand if you’d refused to pay above that. Had you waited me out, you’d be twenty thousand pounds richer.”

  “That’s quite all right, my lord,” Derek said blandly as he looked the man in the eye. “I would have paid two hundred.”

  *****

  Lucy refused to leave her bedchamber. She’d been downstairs when Sturgeon led Captain Wainright into the drawing room. Without warning, she’d found herself face to face with the man she had tricked. She had never expected to see him again, let alone be informed that, given the unfortunate episode at the Bellingham estate, her uncle had consented to their marriage. They were, in fact, betrothed, and the wedding would take place in three weeks.

  Shock had turned to anger and anger to fury. She argued and shouted, then pouted and cajoled, but she could not budge the privateer from his position. She refused to marry him, telling him that nothing, nothing could ever induce her to it, and he merely smiled, amused interest flickering in his gray eyes. Then he politely suggested she work on changing her attitude since she had no choice in the matter.

  Furious with the knowledge that what he said was true, she sulked and retired to her room, insisting she had the headache, so she could think things through without his distracting male presence around.

  Once there, she stamped her foot in frustration. Confound the man! Her plan had been illfated from the moment she decided to use him in it, and she’d instinctively known it. Any other man would have worked out, she thought bitterly. Any other man. And yet she’d carried on with her scheme.

  Now she was no better off than before, perhaps worse off, for not only was she still betrothed, albeit to a different man, but her reputation had suffered as well. Yet her problem remained the same. Her uncle supported this suitor just as he had Lord Harlech, and if she disobeyed him, he might withhold her entire allowance. Either way, a man controlled her fortune.

  With that unhappy thought in mind, she rang for a hot bath to help her sleep, wishing she hadn’t when she was forced to listen to Bridget chatter endlessly about the captain’s handsome physique. Not wanting the maid to realize her agitation, she pretended not to hear the remarks, a strategy which proved unwise when Bridget, growing ever bolder with each unchecked remark, wondered wistfully if the large proportions of the captain extended to his manly parts.

  “Bridget! That’s enough!” Lucy’s cheeks warmed as she too began to think about the captain’s manly parts. She had no idea what size his manly parts were supposed to be, or exactly what that remark even meant, but judging from the way Bridget was smiling so dreamily, it was obviously something worth thinking about.

  She tossed and turned all night. Every time she began to drift off, she would remember that she was, for all practical purposes, affianced to a pirate. Dreams intermingled with reality, and she thought she awoke to see him standing before her on a ship’s deck, drenched from the rain and sea, shouting orders while the ship tossed about on black, turbulent waves. He turned toward her and laughed louder and louder as he hoisted the Jolly Roger, its skull scowling down at her. With a start, she woke and remembered the day’s events and wished desperately that it had all been a dream.

  But it wasn’t a dream. She was betrothed to a pirate. Who cared that he was a handsome, exciting pirate who knew exactly how to kiss? The fact that she was betrothed at all was shocking. The entire affair was beyond comprehension.

  She sat up and pummeled her pillow. She absolutely would not marry an American, not even one with strong hands and gentle fingers that were adept at caressing a woman. One did not marry a man simply because he had a nice backside or a powerfully muscled chest, or because he caused certain deliciously wicked feelings in the pit of one’s stomach.

  She turned on her side, kicking away the blanket, and squeezed her eyes shut, trying hard to concentrate on anything but him.

  One married a respectable man, she told herself, if one married at all, and she did not wish to marry at all. Not even if the man happened to have a perfectly proportioned body, those perfect proportions most likely extending to his manly parts.

  Goodness, it was warm tonight. She sat up and looked about for a fan. She thought to ring Bridget to inquire about the heat but changed her mind, deciding the girl would chatter on and on about the captain, and she simply couldn’t bear to hear it all again. She lay back down, flatly refusing to think about him.

  How could this have happened? What did he want? It was most definitely the dowry he was after. It had to be, for certainly he couldn’t care about guarding her reputation or his. He was a pirate, and even if he wasn’t—not exactly, anyway—he acted as one. Respectable men did not amass a fortune by attacking and marauding ships, nor were they known for the number of women they’d seduced.

  No, he was not a respectable man, and he was most definitely after her fortune. There could be nothing else he wanted from her, and in seeking the object of his desire, he hadn’t given a thought to what she might want. He was obviously selfish and lived exactly as he pleased, with no thought for anyone or anything except his own pleasure and getting his way.

  And she was being forced to marry such a man.

  Despair struck her and tears spilled onto her cheeks. Everything was in a terrible jumble, but how could she have known he would offer for her? Surely he didn’t need her money that desperately. All the talk circulating about him began and ended with whispers of his wealth, so why would he want her fortune? She was tired of trying to keep one step ahead of men who thought they had the right to control her and her money. She would force him to turn over her fortune or she would refuse to marry him, and that was that.

  She shivered as she considered the captain rejecting her demand and notifying her uncle of that fact, but she remained steadfast. No one could actually force her to marry and she wouldn’t, not unless her betrothed agreed to give her the money. Otherwise, what would she gain?

  With that final thought she drifted off into a troubled sleep filled with dreams of pirates and swords and stolen treasures.

  Chapter 12

  Open this door!”

  She could barely hear his voice over the crashing of the waves. She was trapped in the ship’s cabin, which was quickly filling with water. Her only way out was through the door, and she didn’t want to open it because he would be there, and she couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust him because he would start kissing her and touching her and—

  “Lady Louisa, if you don’t open this door, I swear I will break it down.”

  The cabin’s flimsy walls shuddered with each fierce rattling of the door. The water was rising all a
round her, and Lucy didn’t know what to do. A tremendous crash resounded through the cabin as the door flew open—

  And she woke up.

  Finding herself awakening quite literally to the man of her dreams, Lucy was somewhat nonplussed, forgetting her lack of attire as she mustered up her indignant feelings over his forced intrusion. It wasn’t an easy task, for once again she was struck by his powerful masculinity and devilish good looks.

  “You blackguard! How dare you enter my bedchamber.”

  To Derek, she looked like an angel, dressed as she was in a girlish white night-rail that covered every square inch of flesh from her neck downward. Her dark hair, secured in a long plait neatly ribboned at the end, reinforced the vision of innocence. He suppressed the urge to smile indulgently at her by reminding himself that behind the angelic face was the mind of a temptress—a seductive, conniving temptress—and he was going to let her know right here and now just who was boss.

  “We’re about to have a little chat,” he said in a coldly polite voice. “I haven’t time for childish pranks; I leave for London within the hour.”

  Responding with a scathing look, Lucy, as he’d come to think of his bride-to-be, settled back into bed, then rolled over, turning away from him. She pulled the blanket over her head. “That is a shame,” she said, her voice muffled, “since I don’t plan to arise just yet. Perhaps I’ll see you another time?”

  “You’ll see me now,” he said, covering the distance between them in two long strides. He threw the blanket off her and yanked her out of bed.

  She jerked her wrist from his grasp, rubbing the marked flesh. “How dare you!”

  “How I dare doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Just remember I do. I do dare. Just as you have dared to keep me waiting all last night and this morning, I have dared to put an end to this farce.” He moved the dainty chair that was positioned in front of her dressing table and sat, stretching out and crossing his longs legs.

  Her bedchamber was more or less what he had imagined: a four-poster bed draped in a pale blue that complemented her eyes, walls hung with cream-colored silk, Queen Anne styled furniture that had been carefully maintained, and a window that overlooked the stable and the bulk of the manor’s land. That was the only surprise, that she would want a view of the stable. His mind moved over those facts in seconds, then returned to the matter at hand.

  “So now we will talk, and my only question is whether you wish to continue this discussion dressed as you are.”

  He hoped to God not. She didn’t look quite so angelic standing. With the soft light from the window framing her, the cotton material was transparent, revealing not only the outline of rounded breasts with their tightening nipples but also the dark triangle below.

  She followed the direction of his gaze. “Oh!” She spun away and rifled through the bedclothes. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the outline of her long, slim legs and the way the thin cloth hugged her deliciously rounded bottom when she bent over. His groin tightened as he imagined himself moving up behind her, pulling her to him, and he turned his gaze to the window. He wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted. They had details to discuss.

  She snatched up a robe and slipped it on, then whirled around to face him. “What is it you hope to gain from this marriage? My dowry? My social position? I will never give up my fortune, and if you think to further yourself in English society by marrying an earl’s daughter, you should think again. I rarely go about and when I do, it is seldom to join in society’s events.”

  Derek flicked a speck of dust from his dark jacket, then raised his eyes to give her what he hoped was a bored look. “To be frank, Lucy, your social position is probably not worth the wanting just now.”

  Lucy gaped at him. Her mouth dropped open to from an “o” and then closed and reopened, once, twice, thrice. “I did not give you leave to call me Lucy,” was all she said when she finally regained her voice.

  “I didn’t ask for your leave, Lucy.”

  She glared at him. “Well. As you say, I have nothing to tempt you.”

  “And I want nothing, except an obedient wife who realizes that she is solely responsible for bringing about the circumstances which led to her unwanted marriage. You forced me into an offer, and you have no choice but to accept it. You may handle your reputation any way you like, but you will not handle mine.”

  “Reputation?” She snickered and tossed her head, causing the thick plait of hair to swing around to her back. “I daresay you have little enough to handle. I will say this once more. I will not marry you. You are wasting your time.”

  Derek contemplated his choices. He could sit before her and argue all day, which would be a complete waste of his time, or he could lead her to the only decision possible while letting her think she was in charge. The latter would, of course, be the most effortless way to achieve his objective.

  He had to give her credit, though. She stood before him as indignant as any unjustly accused person could be, her back rigid with pride and her sapphire eyes blazing as though she was the wronged party, but the purplish shadows beneath her eyes and the grim tightness of her mouth hadn’t escaped him. She had worried about her situation all night.

  Still, she was fortunate he was giving her a say in her future at all. Papers would be signed tomorrow and money would change hands. Her fate was sealed unless she meant to run off and leave everything behind. Recalling the joy on her face when she talked about the tiny manor and nearby village, he guessed she would not.

  No, she had no choice, but she needed the pretense of coming to that decision herself. Otherwise, he would be in the unhappy position of tyrant on his wedding night.

  His mind made up, he decided to lead her to the decision quickly. His new ship, his latest design, had arrived from America. He had no time to waste.

  “I’ll not have my business ruined because of your selfish act. We marry in three weeks, so you may as well get used to the idea.”

  “This is preposterous. You are nothing more than an American pirate, and I can’t see how my actions could possibly affect your business.”

  “Then you’re not thinking logically, which is no surprise to me,” he replied. “I’ve worked hard to cultivate my connections here, and I’ll not see them ruined by one stupid act that I had nothing to do with. If we do not marry, society will consider me a bounder. I may be an American privateer, but that doesn’t mean I am not a gentleman. I can assure you that first and foremost, I am a gentleman.”

  “So you say,” she retorted hotly.

  “Tell me of one time I did not act as a gentleman.”

  “Hmmph! I believe the evening of the Grantham ball, when you dragged me out to the terrace against my will, you did not behave as a gentleman.”

  Derek stiffened. He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. “Well, there may have been that one time, but you must be honest and admit you returned my kiss with passion.”

  “I most certainly did not. And even if I did—which I did not—that is no excuse for ungentlemanly behavior in the first place. And that day in London, when you confronted me about my swooning, that was not gentlemanly behavior!”

  “Your pretend swooning,” he countered with a smirk. “Surely you don’t think you can call me on a normal reaction to your dishonest behavior?”

  Her eyes grew wide at the remark. “Well! Certainly you remember your ungentlemanly behavior when you flung open the door to my bedchamber at the Bellingham party while I was changing my gown?”

  Derek shrugged. “I was lost.”

  “Lady Foxworth thinks not. She says you were spying on me. Then there is today. You entered my bedchamber uninvited…”

  Derek scowled. This was not going as smoothly as he planned. “See here, I’ll not apologize for behavior which has been forced upon me by your own unbecoming acts. As for Isabelle Foxworth, you have no business consorting with a woman of such experience. It can lead to nothing but trouble, and I don’t want—”

  “You see? Alread
y you are telling me how to behave,” Lucy said, her eyes narrowed in distrust. “And I will add that for a pirate, you are most stuffy and conservative.”

  “I am not a pirate,” he said through clenched teeth. “I am a privateer. There is a difference. A vast difference.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes and snorted in unladylike fashion. “Oh, yes, that little matter of war. What one does in time of war suddenly becomes honorable.”

  “You know nothing of the matter.”

  “I know you make money by marking up goods that are needed by people who can ill afford your exorbitant prices.”

  “Yes, whiskey and silk are desperately needed by good citizens with little money,” he replied sarcastically. “As I said, you know nothing of these things. I did not come up here to discuss my character, as you well know.”

  Lucy retreated a few steps. “Let us part as friends,” she said. “I’m sorry for any damage I may have done to your reputation, but surely, it can withstand it. I repeat, I will not marry; you may inform my uncle that you withdraw your offer.”

  “I won’t withdraw the offer, and you know what that means. You have no choice but to marry me, so you might as well make the best of it. What can I do to make this offer more palatable to you? Tell me what you want.”

  Lucy’s face flushed red. “What I want? What I want is to remain independent of a man’s concern. What I want is to be able to follow my own pursuits without answering to you or any other person. What I want is my own money, my dowry, put into an account in my name so that I might use it as I please, with full authority to continue managing Stonecrest as I have been doing for the past two years. These are the things I want, sir, and without them, you may be assured I will not marry.” She gave him her back and stared, arms crossed, out the window.

  Derek thought over her demands for a moment, then answered with cool deliberation. “I have no objection to these terms, but I must insist on knowing the pursuits you will follow. Let me be frank here: I will not tolerate an unfaithful wife.”