The Pirate's Duchess: A Regent's Revenge Novella (4 page)

He stood to lose her because of the decisions he’d made. Would things be different between them if he’d simply trusted her from the start? Now he would never know.

Prudence sat stiffly in front of him, her anger and hurt living, breathing adversaries. He couldn’t erase memories of her full-bodied passion, the way she’d given herself openly and willingly to him when they’d first married. The way she sighed when he kissed the slender curve of her neck. The way she instinctively arched into him as he entered her sex. Aye, he remembered everything.

Curse and damn me
.

He heeled Manfred to a steady pace, eager to ride off his frustration. Several quiet minutes passed before Prudence made a sound, trembling before him. Was she still cold? Crying? He slowed Manfred to a walk.

“I’ve hurt you,” he said, hating himself for being such an ass. “And for that I am sorry. You have every reason to hate me.”

She hiccupped. “I am
not
crying.”

“No, no. Of course not. It’s very common for a woman to discover her first husband has risen from the grave. No matter at all.”

“You
weren’t
dead,” she reminded him flatly, then took a deep breath.

“A small detail.”

Keep your mouth shut, Tobias. You’ll only make things worse.

“I deplore what you’ve done to Basil, you . . . you ruffian!” she cried.

He preferred her angry than sad. “Surely you can do better than that.”

“Beast,” she hissed.

“You called Manfred a beast. What about handsome tyrant?” At a shake of her head, he offered, “Fashionable bastard?”

Prudence harrumphed. “There are no words for what you are.”

“I know four.” He grinned as he whispered in her ear. “I. Am. Your. Husband.”

He could tell by the way she fidgeted that she didn’t appreciate his sarcasm. “You promised answers. I’ve waited long enough, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, you have,” he said.
You have no idea how much it has hurt me to watch you suffer.
“I had hoped never to have this conversation with you.”

She inhaled sharply. “So you intended not to tell me?”

“I had hoped I wouldn’t have to.”

“You ha
d—
”

“I didn’t expect to live this long, Prudence.”

His admission opened a dam of pent-up questions. “Why did you abandon me? Why did you allow me to believe you were dead?” Her voice cracked with emotion, the sound digging into him more deeply than a cat-o’-nine-tails.

“It was safer for you to believe I was dead.”

She leaned into him but said, “If you think you can just walk back into my life and resume your place at my side without a care for my feelings, you are wrong.”

“Do you doubt that you haven’t been foremost in my thoughts from the moment that fire ignited?”

“The fire,” she said breathlessly, as if she were a hundred miles away. She sniffled. “I imagined you in that inferno, burning alive. You cannot understand what that is like.”

“I believe I can.” Underwood wouldn’t stop until he’d killed off Tobias’s family line in whatever way possibl
e,
including burning down the manor house with Prudence and their children in it. “Being apart from you has been a living hell.”

She shook her head against him. “You don’t know what hell is, Tobias.”

If only she knew.

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, Prudence. I know I can never take away the trauma I’ve put you through, but I had no choice.”

“That
was
a choi—” Thunder clapped overhead, and she jumped. “Riding this beast home was a horrible idea.”

A bolt of lightning struck a tree hundreds of yards away. Another clap of thunder immediately bridged the ensuing silence between them.

“We are going to get killed out here.” Her entire body quivered. “Why didn’t you trust me, Tobias? I was your
wife
!”

“You still are,” he said, feeling the gulf between them widen.

“Your opinion on what constitutes a marriage is decidedly different than mine. The man I loved would have never put me through this.”

She’d said
loved
. Was it possible she could ever love him again? “The man you married
is
dead. He died trying to keep you alive.”

“Bah,” she shouted. “You concocted that excuse to abandon your obligations.”

Nothing could have been further from the truth. He laughed bitterly. “Didn’t you listen to the vicar’s words on our wedding day, my lady? Till death do us part?”

“Precisely.”

She thought he’d staged his death to get away from her? Poor Prudence. If not for Underwood’s greed, things would have been quite different between them. “I thought it would be easy for you to have what you wanted—prestige, a stately home. Weren’t these needs provided on the day we wed?”

“How dare you? Are you suggesting I married you for your duchy?”

Thunder rolled over them again.

“What other reason could you possibly have had?” he asked, provoking her anger. He’d rather see her spunk than the sulking maiden. He wasn’t good with a woman in tears.

“Did you ever consider the fact that I might have loved you?”

“Love?” He laughed. “I do not recall love being written into our marriage contract.”

“Well, you can be sure you are in no danger of experiencing it again.”

“Till death do us part,” he reminded her. “After so long without . . . the joys of the flesh, I would think a good wife would dutifully throw herself into her husband’s arms.”

She attempted to kick him but nearly unseated herself. She gripped his cloak for dear life. “You destroyed any tenderness I felt for you when you destroyed my happiness.”

Prudence was right. He’d thoroughly ruined everything in his life by trying to do the right thing. What more could he say? He’d abandoned her to fulfill a vow he’d made to his father on his deathbed: to avenge everyone Lord Underwood had ruined, including Sir Charles Landon; Lewis Barrett, the Marquess of Eggleston; Lord James Standeford; Lord Edward Freestone; Edward Shaw; and the people of county Devon . . . Recompense had come at a heavy cost.

“Casualty of war,” he said, grimacing at the cruelty his words inflicted.

She laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “Is that all I am to you? A
thing
to cast aside?”

No,
he thought, fighting the viselike grip on his heart.
You are everything to me and so much more. If I could only show you, make you understand how far down into hell I plunged the moment I left your side.

“I did what had to be done, my lady.”

She absentmindedly rubbed her arms. “You are cold and heartless.”

He pulled her closer, enjoying the way she’d been sculpted to fit him, chastising himself for not coming home to her sooner. “And you are alive.”

“Alive?” She turned to view his face. “I died the moment I saw that fire and realized you were in it. I died a second time when I had to identify your body.”

Curse and damn me!
He fought to find his voice. “That wasn’t me.”

“Who was it, then? Who did I bury? Tell me or I shall go mad.”

He didn’t want to frighten her.
It’s a little late for that
. “The man sent to kill me.”

“K-kill you?” Her stuttering words revealed a spark of affection still lurking beneath her shadowed eyes. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Underwood,” he said, despising each syllable that left his mouth. “I said as much in the chapel.”

“But why would the marquess want to harm you?”

“You do not know Markwick’s father, my dove. He’s unscrupulous. When he and my father were young, they had been great friends. But even friendship cannot bridge the social divide. When my uncle and grandfather died and my father became duke, Underwood seethed with rage that he wasn’t the highest-ranking peer among them. He became obsessed with wealth and strove to find it by any means, not caring who was in his path.”

Manfred tripped, and Tobias tightened his hold on Prudence when she cried out with fright. He continued to explain, hoping to take her mind off the storm.

“When that wasn’t enough—” he worked harder to settle her nerves, rubbing his thumb over her ribs “—he began a campaign to swindle my father and his friends out of their inheritances. At first, no one suspected Underwood’s deceit. As mineral lords, their collective interest in leasing and mining benefited the whole corporation. When Sir Landon died mysteriously after refusing to support Underwood, Lord Eggleston took over the corporation’s accounts. Underwood then managed to convince the marquess that significant profits would be lost if they didn’t sell to break even. Eggleston conferred with several bankers who were, unbeknownst to him, in Underwood’s employ. They verified the figures and Eggleston sold. Within weeks, Underwood profited three hundred thousand pounds. The shame cost Eggleston his life.”

Prudence gave a sharp intake of breath but didn’t speak. A neigh from Manfred cut through the silence. Tobias shot a wary glance behind them, searching the terracing woodland. Hair rose on the back of his neck as a bolt of lightning revealed a flash of silver. It was just as he’d feared. They were being watched, followed.

He kicked Manfred’s flanks, trying to stay calm so as not to frighten Prudence. “My father expended his energy fighting Underwood’s fraudulent methods. I promised him on his deathbed I wouldn’t stop fighting until Underwood was either penniless or dead.”

Static prickled his skin as another bolt of lightning serrated the sky.

“In all this time, it never even occurred to me someone might have tried to harm you.” She reached under the cloak and fidgeted with her clothing, giving him a peek over her shoulder at the tempting flesh mounding above her corset. “I found this in the ruins and have worn it ever since.”

She raised her hand, revealing his signet ring—a ruby embellished with gol
d—
dangling from a chain around her neck.

“And you wore it on your wedding day?” He let out a deep, satisfied sigh. Perhaps he hadn’t lost the key to Prudence’s heart after all.

He cleared his throat. “Your attachment to the trinket pleases me.”

She returned the ring to her bodice, leaned back, and turned her head to look up at him. “I prayed for your return. Truly I did. I
longed
for it.”

“And yet, you were going to marry Markwick today.” He tamped down the fury roiling inside him, an objectionable jealous rage. The very idea that she would become a tenant for life with the son of the man who’d tried to kill him was despicable enough. But his best friend? Of course, none of it would’ve mattered if he were dead. He simply wasn’t.

“Basil is a good man. I owe him more than you will ever know.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any more, yet he asked, “How much?” He dreaded the answer. Had she and Markwick made love?

She glanced away, her gaze focusing on something in the distance. “He took it upon himself to watch over me after . . .”

“Go on,” he said, desiring to know more—and abhorring himself for it—hoping her feelings for his childhood friend leaned more toward obligation than love.

She said nothing more. The unsettling pause made it hard to swallow.
Sink and scuttle me . . .
She was acting as if he had come to ruin her life, not save it.

“My return has wounded you?”

She craned her head toward him again, her eyes shooting daggers. “Some wounds never heal.”

“But some do,” he immediately told her. He should know. He’d experienced his fair share. “Talk to me. Tell me what you are thinking.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

She leaned her head against his chest, angling her face up to the angry sky as the first drops of rain began to fall. “I’m trying to decide whether to allow you to remain alive or to put you back in your grave.”

He doubted she’d get the chance. If Underwood’s men reached them before he got her to safety, they could both end up in the ground or upside down in the river. “Someone may beat you to it.”

“You aren’t suggesting . . .?” She released a sob. “Basil would never—”

“Not Markwick. Underwood. Men do contemptible things when they are backed into a corner, Prudence.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “You sicken me.”

“I’m a realist.” He hadn’t returned to make amends, no matter how tempting Prudence might be. Underwood wasn’t insolvent . . . yet. Tobias had become the personification of depravity, becoming more like the marquess than he’d like to admit, successfully carving fear into the hearts of weaker men, with one exception. He stole back what Underwood, and men like him, had taken from innocents. Roman walls surrounding Exeter couldn’t keep him at bay and he wouldn’t rest until justice reigned.

“You are heartless!”

His heart beat more vigorously. He felt alive now that she was in his arms.