Duke by Day, Rogue by Night (38 page)

Percy lunged forward.

“Hold,” Burton exclaimed. “Do not come any closer.”

“I'd like to see you stop me,” Percy threatened.

Guffald's movements were slow as he shuffled into the room. His eyes flashed a warning. Constance followed him. She shifted into the light slowly and a dark figure came into view behind her, riding close to her skirts. A flash of silver gleamed in the candlelight. Percy's eyes focused on his wife's neck where a knife wedged perilously close to her jugular vein, so close droplets of blood began to cascade in rivulets down her neck and onto her bosom. He took a step forward, but stopped as the face of her assailant came into view.

“Frink!” he gasped.

“So good of you to remember me,” the pirate captain teased. “It appears we are back to where we started, Sexton.” He leaned his mouth to Constance's ear. “Or is it, Your Grace?”

Constance winced as Frink blew his breath into her face.

“Come. Come now, Frink,” Burton insisted. “You may have your vengeance later. For now, resist the urge to do what comes naturally. I want Constance to witness her husband's death, not precede it. It will serve her well to know who her true master will be.”

“You son of a — ” Percy could hear Constance whimper from across the room as Frink applied more pressure and another slender stream of blood dripped down her neck.

“I'm only getting started,” Frink promised, eyes gleaming.

Guffald stepped forward, slipping between Frink and Burton with an ease Percy would have never thought possible. “You promised me she would be safe, Burton,” he railed. “This was not part of our deal.”

“
He
promised you?” Frink laughed wickedly. “What did Burton promise you? Your own ship? A safe getaway with the woman you love?”

Burton rose from his seat, grimacing at the chaos unfolding before him. He pointed a crooked finger at Frink and then aimed an overlong cutlass he produced from behind his chair. “Hold where you are!” he ordered Guffald.

Percy's fists clenched and his teeth ground until he thought they would crack. A deep-seated hatred surged within him as he stared into Frink's unrelenting eyes. Burton was all bluster, but in Frink, he would find no weakness. The man had a reputation for gutting close friends. And the captain had an axe to grind where he was concerned. He'd stolen his ship. Frink would do anything to get back at him for that slight, not to mention tricking him for nearly a year. His ego had been bruised. And right now, Constance would satisfy the man's need for vengeance.

“Release the girl,” Burton ordered.

Frink glared menacingly. “Be wary of orderin' me about, Burton.”

“Lord Burton to you, Captain!” Ah! Burton's weakness appeared to be vanity.

“I thought you never took orders, Frink,” Percy taunted, confident that if he disrupted the confidence between the two men, he stood a better chance of getting Constance out alive.

“No one need ever know,” he said. “If it weren't for Whistler, I'd have gained all I wanted and more, and you would never have gotten the upper hand on me aboard the
Octavia
.”

“Whistler.” Percy's voice came out in a rush. Josiah Cane? Burton's eyes settled accusingly upon Guffald. His gaze followed, disbelieving. His gut tightened as Guffald's treachery suddenly cleared away all doubt from his mind. He turned toward his friend. “You?”

Guffald blinked nervously. “It was the only way I could have her. Her father would never have accepted me.”

“Simon has given you everything, Henry.”

“You can't possibly understand. You've never been deprived of anything. You, heir to a dukedom and now a duke, have always been fancied by fathers as a choice pick. I've never been given the luxury of choosing a bride.”

Burton scoffed, unamused, and carved his apple as if he had the explosive situation back under control. “Tsk. Tsk. Such a debacle. Makes my stomach turn.”

Guffald continued making excuses. “You have no idea what hurdles I've had to jump in order to maintain our friendship and rise through the ranks.”

“You earned your rank on merit,” Percy validated.

The captain did not care. His eyes focused on Constance. “A fact that does not grant me permission to marry the woman I love.”

Burton coughed. “I hate to interrupt your confession, Guffald, but we sail within the hour.”

Spurred into action, Guffald backed away from Frink and headed toward the door. Percy stood his ground. Cunning and assured, he refused to give the captain access.

“Move aside,” Guffald ordered.

“You're not leaving my wife.”

“Don't force me to hurt you,” he pleaded. Guffald's eyes darted from Percy to the two other men. He blinked — twice.

Percy caught on quickly. “She's pregnant, Henry,” he whispered.

“Percy!” Constance screamed and elbowed Frink in his side. Dislodging herself, she started to rush toward Percy, but Frink was faster. Fed by a desire to pay her back for getting the best of him, Frink caught her and spread his fingers over her breast, casting Percy a victorious smirk.

Percy and Guffald watched in horror.

“That's what I've been missin'. A warm, unwilling woman,” Frink bragged.

“Now, now,” Burton insisted. “Don't manhandle our prize, Frink.”

“Who are you to be spouting orders? You want her for yourself. Don't deny it. I know where I stand and she does too. I'll have my fun before you spoil her like the others.”

Burton began to squirm and his rounded eyes beamed white. “Nonsense!”

“Others?” Guffald questioned, turning.

Frink's buoyant laughter filled the cabin and he squinted wickedly at Guffald. “Our lovely beauty won't be pretty for long if left in Burton's hands.”

“What is he talking about?” Guffald shouted.

“Don't listen to him, Captain,” Burton spat. “He's only trying to get the upper hand.”

Percy's gaze stayed focused on Constance. By now, she appeared ready to collapse. Her eyes were filled with tears and she'd grown pale. His heart hitched, knowing he might never get the chance to tell her he loves her. He hated Frink, hated Burton, and wanted to kill anyone who got in his way. Flexing his fists, he waited for his chance to make a move.

“I remember a certain filly, young and primed to please a man when the occasion allowed,” Frink taunted. “I recollect she had auburn hair, eyes like a calm sea — ”

Percy's heart hitched.

“She welcomed the driving thrusts of a rutting man, and begged for more like a starving harlot.” Frink cackled as his hand stroked Constance's breast. Percy felt every muscle in his body grow rigid. He wanted to know more and hated himself for it.

“Burton,” Frink confessed, “is not a pirate. He doesn't live by a code. I'm thinking you know what I'm talking about, Sexton. But not Burton. He has certain desires that cannot be quenched until he's destroyed whatever treasure he's found.”

“Enough!” Burton screeched. “You're ruining everything!”

“I hold the cards now — or should I say treasure? I'll decide when enough is enough.” Frink turned his bloodthirsty stare upon him. “You infiltrated my ship, ate and slept with my crew, Sexton. Killed and murdered with the best of us and worked your way into my trust. You're a black-hearted wretch. This girl,” he said, notching her neck with his blade, “means something to you and I want you to watch her suffer.”

“You talk too much, Frink. Bring me the girl,” Burton railed.

“Give her to me, Frink.” Guffald began to move slowly toward the captain.

Frink's eyes narrowed. His lips tightened until they resembled slits. “I've never seen a man scour the earth for answers the way you did, Sexton. Funny — the answers have always been at your feet.”

“Frink!” Burton howled.

“Makes no difference now, does it, Burton? Sexton's a dead man. As a matter of fact, we're all dead,” he said, looking at every man standing in the room. “Burton will make sure of it.” Frink centered his attention upon him.

“I wanted you to know that Burton's the man you've been searching for. He took your sister because he wanted her. The only problem was, you stood in his way. When he couldn't get past your father, he made certain the man was badly maimed for his trouble. Sly one, he is.”

Percy's heart thumped wildly. He glared at Burton and waited — waited for Frink to finish. His gut clenched, every muscle primed to kill.

Burton's eyes took on a demonic fire. He confessed. “No matter how much weight I tossed around or how many times I begged your father to grant me permission to court your sister, I was met with disdain. Your father's dismissal was his final mistake.” He wrung his hands gleefully. “Celeste was foolish. She believed my amorous advances and pledged her loyalty to me, above that of her family, above you, Blendingham. You cannot imagine how much I've coveted that knowledge. But you — oh! You were the perfect brother, always attentive, never at a loss to defend. I vowed to have her no matter the cost. We snuck away to Gretna Green. But midway, Celeste could talk of nothing but you. She feared losing your regard and begged me to take her back home. But once I had her, I was not going to be left empty-handed.”

Constance locked her gaze upon him. Pity filled her eyes. But he did not care. He listened and waited, primed to avenge Celeste's mistreatment, certain he would find finality in Burton's confession.

“I solicited an inn,” Burton continued, “and a private room where I took her again and again, hoping to vanquish the ache in my throbbing cock. Days later, after having my fill, I left her. Thankfully, I never saw the sobbing mass of fluff again.”

“How could you? You're not human,” Constance screeched, then winced as Frink squeezed her back against his chest, choking off her breath.

Burton frowned and approached Constance, intent on doing her foul. She squirmed beneath Frink's grasp and brought her heel down upon his instep. Caught off-guard, Frink toppled backward. Burton pulled a pistol from his back and aimed.

“Don't move!” Burton yelled. “If I cannot have you, no one can.”

Constance froze. Burton's trigger finger flinched. Percy wrenched free of one of Frink's henchman and advanced, prepared to cut down Burton before he fired the gun. But he didn't make it in time. Burton pulled the trigger, a sinister smile stretching his lips. Guffald moved with lightning speed.

“Constance!” Percy shouted.

The gunshot split the air and a plume of sulphuric smoke filled the cabin. Constance and Guffald collapsed together to the floor. Percy moved straight for Burton, murderous thoughts filling every pore. He knocked the gun out of Burton's hand and then, in despair, snapped the lord's neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Frink slipping out of the room. Blinded by rage he took chase, catching up with Frink on the
Stockton
's foredeck, knowing they would never be safe until he made sure the captain could never hurt them again.

“Figure on ending what you started, boy?” Frink goaded, whirling around to face him.

Percy grinned. “Yes. I'm going to enjoy this.”

“Ye've tried to kill me once and failed.”

“That was then,” he admitted with a flourish of his sword. Clanging steel snipped the air followed by the blunt force of metal stabbing wood and shattering glass as the two of them battled each other across the deck. “This is now.”

“A braggart, eh?”

“No,” Percy admitted. “A realist.”

“Perhaps you'd like to know why I know so much about your sister,” Frink spat.

He caught Percy off guard, knocked him off his feet and forced him down upon the focsle. While Percy struggled to regain his balance, Frink's blade sliced his shoulder and, sensing his inability to defend himself, the captain threw all his weight into the wound.

“He passed her off to us — one by one,” he admitted.

Mind reeling, sickened by thoughts of Celeste's obvious torture, Percy could not bear to hear any more.

“You served on the same ship as the men who defiled her. You're a fool, Sexton! Just as much a fool as that whore of a sister you've sought to avenge.”

Percy kicked Frink's feet upward, knocking him off balance. Then, anger providing him newfound strength, he thrust his sword between Frink's ribs. Frink gasped and lifted his blade weakly to fend off another blow. Prepared to block Frink's thrust, Percy spun and then gutted Frink with an upward lance.

“Vengeance is mine.”

Frink's unseeing eyes bulged and he slumped to the deck. Percy kicked the man to be certain he was dead, and then hurried down the steps to the captain's cabin. Burton's body lay unmoving in the middle of the floor. One of Frink's men, the one who'd held him in check during Burton's rant, slunk against the wall of the cabin, his eyes peering blankly into space.

Constance knelt against the western side of the room, her ear pressed against Guffald's heart. Percy moved forward slowly and scanned the length of Guffald's body. The captain had been shot in the thigh, a horrible wound he'd seen countless times that, without a doctor's urgent care, meant certain amputation. For a moment, he entertained the idea of letting the scoundrel die, but he caught sight of a tourniquet wrapped around his leg. The fabric was the color of his wife's gown.

Guffald spoke. “Forgive me.” He gulped. “Simon knows.”

“Don't speak, Captain. No explanations are needed,” Constance said.

Guffald gasped. “I didn't know … I would never have — ”

“Oh, Henry!” Constance cried, smoothing the now unconscious captain's blond hair away from his face. Percy did not miss the fact that she'd used Guffald's given name. Sobbing, she pulled the man close and held his head to her chest. Percy watched silently, jealousy coursing through his veins.