Duke by Day, Rogue by Night (37 page)

The man reached for Constance with grimy hands. “Don't touch her,” he ordered, swatting the man's hand away. “I'll bring her aboard.”

“A might sensitive, aren't you?” the one-eyed man asked, ogling Constance's breasts as Guffald lifted her into his arms, descended the hack, and carried her aboard the
Stockton
.

“Where is he?” he bellowed to a sailor loitering on deck.

“Below, Captain. Where else would he be?”

Pain throbbed in Constance's head. That first awareness built into a moan as she tried to move and her head rebelled. She brought a hand up to her throbbing skull, suddenly conscious of the fact that she lay upon a lumpy mattress. But how had she gotten here? And where was here? She tried to open her eyes. Though the light was muted, she squinted and focused on the last thing she could remember. But she could remember nothing. Besieged by more questions than she could handle, she sat up, fighting back an urge to empty her stomach.

“Glad to see you've joined the land of the living, my dear.”

That voice!
Constance inhaled sharply, the action causing her pain. She shoved her fist into her mouth to choke off the scream threatening to burst from her throat.

“You see the reverence in her eyes, Guffald?” Burton cooed. “The little chit has an enticing way about her, doesn't she?”

Imprisoned and squeamish, she absorbed the sights and sounds around her. Her gaze scanned the circumference of the room, scrutinizing the confines of the cabin. Then her eyes settled upon Burton, seated piously before her. Guffald stood to his right. The sight of him boosted her spirits. Surely, she thought, he would help her. Yet, the troubled blue eyes held no hint of rescue. Why? What had happened?

She searched her aching head for the answers. Her heart hitched as her memory returned. The captain appeared numb to her plight because he was the reason for her presence here. Guffald, the man who'd promised to save her aboard the
Octavia
, who'd protected her when she'd tried to escape on the gig, who'd attempted to visit her almost daily after they'd returned to London, who'd promised her sanctuary from an unhappy marriage … had masterminded her capture?

The room shrank until it became so stifling she couldn't breathe. Weighted draperies hung neatly from the four corners of her bunk, serving as a reminder she was hemmed in. Just past the bed drapes, a large desk came into focus. Beyond it stood an open doorway, promising escape.

Burton spoke to someone nearby. His bulbous lips pumped spittle into the air. He was dressed in maroon from head to foot, a scant cravat peeking from his high collar, which made his double chin more pronounced. His balding head peeped above the high neckline like a turtle popping out of a shell as he sliced an apple and plopped a piece into his mouth, chewing the succulent fruit. He studied her pensively.

“I assume she came with baggage?” he asked.

Baggage? What was he talking about?

Guffald cleared his throat. “He'll be here momentarily. Give the man credit. He's not as asinine as you might think. Should he discover your ruse, and your men fail to fend him off, you and I shall both regret our affiliation with each other.”

“I've made no bones of the fact that the man has been a thorn in my side for nearly a year. If Frink had only half the sense of an educated man, he'd have seen through Percy's charade from day one. I cannot believe the man lived among my men undetected. 'Tis a sad state of affairs.”

They spoke in riddles. Why were they discussing Captain Frink? She watched them interact beneath hooded eyes. It did not take long, however, for her to decipher their meaning. Guffald, one of Percy's dearest friends, had betrayed her in order to draw Percy to Burton. She shivered unexpectedly. Though she hated her husband for lying to her, she did not want him dead.

Her reaction didn't go unnoticed. “You'll be interested to know that we've prepared a wonderful surprise for your — ahem — husband.”

“Surprise?” Her eyes locked with Guffald's for one horrifying moment. Her body coiled like a spring. She wanted to run for the door, to warn Percy. But they were watching her closely and she had the baby to consider. She sent Guffald a silent plea. His face, however, was a mask of indifference.

“I don't understand,” she said. “What do you want with me?”

Burton's shrill laughter grated her frayed nerves. “You
are
a simpleton!” he declared. “I had never imagined you'd be so dense.”

“There is no call to insult Lady Constance, Burton.”

Burton's palm slammed upon the desk. “You will address me as Lord Burton! I will not accept anything less. I have done everything you asked and more, Guffald. Do not begin to harass or disparage me!”

“We agreed that Constance would not be harmed. You promised she would be
mine
!” Guffald's outburst rocked her to the core. He'd been collaborating with Burton? But how could this be? He had sworn to defend people against men like Burton.

Constance stared at Guffald for a long moment. “Yours?”

“I could not have you any other way, Constance,” Guffald admitted. “Forgive me.”

“What you need is a real man,” Burton interrupted. “Not a dandy or a man known to disguise himself as a filthy pirate. Your husband branded himself a member of the ton, only to stagger with the crustiest of men and flirt with the wildest tarts known to man. The man you married does not exist, though he portrays himself as a popinjay to relieve suspicion. I doubt you know that he is the man who tore you from Frink's nest and laid claim to you upon a captain's bunk such as this,” he said, pointing to the bunk beneath her.

“I'm not immune to gossip. In fact, my men make it their bound and duty to inform me on the dalliances of every member of the ton. That is how I've attained my wealth. To know one's enemy is to earn great reward.”

“You are a fiend!” she screamed.

“There. There. Do not exert yourself. I know learning you've been duped has been hard to digest. Even Guffald did not know the difference. It wasn't until he found Percy skulking around my meetinghouse that we learned the truth. Poor soul,” he said, his gaze lingering on Guffald. “He couldn't find the strength to kill Percy then, though he did strike him over the head nicely. Too bad he didn't have the wherewithal to finish the job. If it wasn't for that locket we stole from you, and its perfect placement in Josiah Cane's possession, I seriously doubt we'd have been able to control Percy this long.”

“My locket?” she asked.

“Yes, dear. I bribed one of your servants to steal it. She was quite happy to earn the extra shillings.” Her heart clenched at the betrayal. Someone in her own home had stolen her most valuable possession.

Burton sighed. “It was all diabolical, I assure you. The plan was for Percy to find it and believe that you were working in league with us. I had to cast doubt as to your loyalties so he would not confide in you.”

It was all beginning to make sense. Burton had no way of knowing that he'd provided her with hopeful news. Guffald had resisted killing Percy when he'd had the chance. There had to be a part of him, however small, that could be persuaded to do the right thing. And because Percy thought she was involved with Burton, he chose not to confide in her. Her eyes locked onto Guffald's, silently pleading for his help. She still believed that he would do the right thing. His eyes cut away from any amount of persuasion she could employ.

Feeling helplessly lost, Constance realized everyone around her had disguised their true ambitions.

Strange sounds clanked above deck. A loud thump and a crash followed. Shots were fired. She screamed as flashbacks of the
Octavia
's attack swarmed over her. Her heart thumped an erratic rhythm. She couldn't catch her breath.

Burton cast a feverish glance at the cabin door and barked an order. Guffald slipped away from his station and stepped beside her.

He grabbed her close. “It appears our trap has been sprung.”

• • •

Percy made his way along the wharf to the
Stockton
. His only thought was that he could not lose Constance the way he'd lost Celeste. He plowed forward, uncaring how far back his men had fallen behind. Darkness and a descending fog threatened to obscure their efforts, but also offered natural cover. He could not wait for the opaque shroud to descend however. The
Stockton
had been rigged for departure. Provisions had been stacked on deck, providing cover for anyone waiting in ambush.

There was no doubt in his mind that his wife was on board. Guffald and his crew intended to set sail, making sure Constance would be out of his reach. Beyond rescue. As he stormed the gangway, he ignored the ramifications of Guffald's betrayal. All that mattered now was finding the one thing that mattered most in the world to him — his wife.

Armed to the teeth with axe, blunderbuss, and sword, Percy was not about to fall before reaching the heart of the ship. Constance would be held there. He'd lived too long without the warmth of a woman, without love, to lose the chance now when he'd only just discovered the possibility of loving again.

Yes. He loved Constance. He knew that now. She'd slipped through his wounds and settled into his heart no matter how rigorously he'd tried to shield it. No matter how long and how hard he'd fought his attraction to her, he'd lost the battle. No, he decided. He hadn't lost. Rather he'd won. He'd fallen in love with his wife, with Constance, and that act had been easier than he'd ever believed possible. But now that he'd found love, he could not live without his wife or the child they had created. Their child. His heir! The idea that Burton would try to take that away from him propelled him onward.

Percy rushed onto the Stockton with his gun secured at his waist and his scabbard and sword slung over his back. In his hand, he wielded a boarding axe and swung it with flourish as men darted out from behind stacked provisions and began to attack, just as he'd known they would. One by one, men fell beneath the circling arc of his sharpened blade. Nearly a year of training aboard a pirate ship had honed his muscles and his skills. Every nerve-ending screamed as he hacked his way down to the captain's cabin, where he knew a welcome party waited and he hoped to find Constance and Guffald unharmed.

Percy still could not believe his old friend had betrayed him. Guffald had proven himself loyal to the crown, to Simon, to him — again and again. Whatever Guffald's reasons for turning against him, and for kidnapping his wife, Percy was prepared to kill his friend in order to bring Constance home alive.

Side-stepping a sailor with a mallet, he grabbed the cabin door handle and forced the door open, slamming the wooden portal into the man's face and knocking him out, aware only that he was probably descending into a trap. But he didn't care.

He made his way down into the bowels of the ship to the captain's cabin. Once there, he slammed the cabin door open until it hit the inside wall with a whallup, banging with enough force to break it off the hinge. His eyes settled upon Burton sitting like a peacock, his legs spread as if ready to run, his face a mixture of fear and contentment.

“So good of you to join us,” he mocked with unsettling assurance.

Percy scoured the room for his wife. But neither Constance nor Guffald were anywhere in sight. “Where's my wife?” he shouted.

“Why would you think your wife is on board this ship? Blendingham, I fear you've gone to a lot of trouble for nothing.”

“Nothing?” he repeated. Was the man on opium?

“Indeed,” he said, his eyes trained on Percy's attire. “Tsk. Tsk. I believe this is the first time I've ever seen you appear quite the worse for wear.”

“I've no time for your banter,” he spat.

“That would be a first.”

“Where is she?” Percy bellowed, tiring of Burton's games.

“I simply cannot abide impatience, Blendingham. It takes all the joy out of a plan. To be sure … you do appear the worse for wear. Not appropriately in control to deal with me but mad — ”

“Mad?
You
are mad if you think you can get away with this.”

“I can and I will,” Burton said, his eyes gleaming murderously. “You see, you've slaughtered my men. An unregrettable happenstance, I assure you, but one the port authorities will not understand.”

Percy's brow furrowed. He did not intend for this situation to make it to his superiors. And if there were official problems to contend with, Simon would find a way to sort things out. That's what he did best.

“Who are you working with?” he asked, hoping to force the man into an admission.

Burton laughed wickedly. “Can't you oblige me a moment to bask in the success I deserve for organizing this little assembly?”

He ignored the madman. “Where is Constance? What did you promise Guffald in order to get him to help you?”

“Come now. You and I both know Guffald is not a child. He needed no coaxing from me to kidnap your wife.” Burton's brows drew together. “Do you honestly believe that Guffald has been ill-used? Ah!” he said, eyes rounding, “I see that you do. Tell me,” he said, sucking in a satisfied breath, his stomach bulging, threatening to pop the buttons on his vest. “Hasn't it ever occurred to you that Guffald was never working alone?”

Percy's eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about? Guffald has never worked alone.”

“Surely you must have figured it out by now.” Burton sat back with a wide grin. “Mayhap not.” The man laughed wickedly. “Perhaps you would prefer to see with your own eyes,” he said.

“I'd prefer to see my wife.”

Burton coughed to hide his amusement, and then clapped his hands together gleefully. A door, hidden behind an enclosed bookcase, creaked open revealing a mop-headed sailor, followed by his rumpled friend — Guffald.