The Pirate's Duchess: A Regent's Revenge Novella (6 page)

“Complicated in what way?” She feared the answer, but if she was going to maintain her sanity, she had to know everything there was to know about her husband.

“Let me explain, Cap’n. You hired me to be your steward, and I owe it to your missus,” Denny said, wringing his meaty hands.

“
He
hired you?” Prudence asked, confounded.

Denny’s imploring eyes urged her not to judge anyone before she heard them out. “Two years ago, I served aboard a revenue cutter. The work involved sailing after smugglers, keeping ’em out of the coves along the coast.” He waved his hands. “You’re aware of their work?”

Prudence nodded. She was quite familiar with the occupation since Chloe’s brother was a revenue officer.

“I won’t bore you with the particulars, but one night we rowed ashore and found ourselves surrounded by angry villagers. I was attacked and left for dead. Cap’n found me, pieced me back together, and took me back to his ship.”

“His
ship
?” Good God, she was at sixes and sevens. Her husband was a duke. He didn’t have a fleet. Even she was coherent enough to know that.

“The
Fury
,” Mrs. Denny answered with a knowing smile.

Mrs. Denny’s attempt to dispel any confusion didn’t register. The
Fury
was that awful pirate’s ship. Tobias wasn’t—

Her eyes widened, jaw going slack as she recalled the painting of a ship on the mantel. She glanced at it once more. The sails were black. “But that cannot be true.”

“I’m afraid it is, madam.” Mrs. Denny nodded. “To repay the captain for saving my husband’s life, we agreed to watch over you and keep you safe while the cap’n was . . . away. We’re beholden to him, you see. Sworn to maintain his secrets on pain o’ death.”

Tobias groaned. “I never indicated you’d be harmed.”

“Ah.” Mr. Denny backed up. “That was my doin’. Told her we’d be tarred and feathered, I did.”

“You did not. You said, ‘he’d keelhaul us.’”

Prudence couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Then that means . . . you,” she said, pointing to Tobias. “That I am—” She slapped her hand over her mouth to silence her scream.

“A pirate’s duchess.” Tobias rose from the chair with surprising energy and bowed his head. “The Black Regent, at your service.”

His grin drained the life right out of Prudence. Her weak knees wobbled. “The Black Regent? That isn’t possible.”

A wicked gleam twinkled from his deceptive eyes. “So you have heard of me?”

Oh, she wanted to scratch the smug look off his face. Of course, she’d heard of the blackguard. The Regent’s name was synonymous with thievery, dishonesty, and illegal activity. In her naïveté, she’d tried to strip away Chloe’s romantic ideals about the man to keep her friend from fantasizing about pirates. Now, a real one stood before her. And not just any pirate . . . the Black Regent. Not just the Black Regent, but her
husband
.

Her heart jumped as the pieces slowly began to fall into place. Tobias’s death had coincided with the first sighting of the infamous pirate. He’d used his death to seek revenge, leaving her alone, bereft, lonely. How could she have been so blind?

She drew in a shuddering breath. She was married to a pirate!

“Oh dear.” She reached for the settee to steady herself, unable to grasp this shocking information. What would Society think of her now? The lonely widow stolen before she could say her wedding vows by an insufferable, purportedly dead, pompous lout of a pirate-duke husband, creating a greater scandal than any she’d feared. She could see the headline of
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
now:
The BLACK REGENT Rises From the Ashes of Blackmoor.

Tobias moved toward her, his reflexes honed as only a predator’s could be. She gasped for air and fell to her knees. He caught her easily before she hit the floor and situated her on the sofa.

“I never meant to hurt you this way, Prudence,” he said, sincerity bathing his tone as he brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. He rubbed her back gently.

She fought to catch her breath, trying to fight the despair bleeding her veins dry. “I’m not interested in what you have to say.” She’d been lied to by three men she’d trusted in a single day—Tobias, Mr. Denny, and Lord Underwood—and had been abandoned in the name of revenge. Lies. Greed. Betrayal. Secrets. These weren’t actions fueled by love. “You’ve ruined
everything
.”

Mr. Denny stepped forward. “If you knew what the cap’n sacrificed—”

“Belay and veer, Denny,” Tobias said, his mouth set in a mutinous line. He rose to stand before Prudence like a Druid monolith, completely misunderstood and out of place. “That ship has sailed.”

“But Cap’n, if you’d just show her—”

“Quiet.” Tobias stood, then moved toward the door. “Do you hear something?” He raised his hands, palms out.

Denny frowned. “I don’t hear anything.”

Tobias limped to the window and pulled back the drape. “Exactly.” He dropped the curtain. “The storm has let up.”

“You don’t think the men who shot you will try to bully their way into the house, do you, Cap’n?”

He shook his head. “No. They wouldn’t risk it.” He paced the room, tapping his lip with his finger. “I’ve got it. Denny, go out to the stable and prepare Manfred for a run. I want anyone watching the cottage to think I’ll be leaving for the manor house within the hour.”

He walked up to Prudence and took both of her hands in his. “Secrets have a way of claiming their masters and those who get close to them.”

She hated his soothing voice, his touch, his beseeching stare. And yet she was held spellbound by this man who swore she was the center of everything he’d ever done. It had been Tobias who’d robbed Underwood’s ships. Tobias had supplied hungry miners and villagers up and down the Devon coast with contraband. He’d stolen from the rich and given to the poor. This duke, her husband, was the people’s pride and joy. But what was he to his own wife? A mystery.

“I wanted to protect you from all this.” He raised her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, branding her skin. “You see, my dove? I had to die in order to keep Underwood from using you to get to me.”

“But I don’t see, Tobias,” she said, the maddening beat of her heart betraying her calm voice. “I wasn’t in any danger as long as Underwood thought you were dead.”

He smiled and patted her hand. “Until, you showed Underwood the survey map of our estate, Prudence. Greed is an insatiable master. Blackmoor isn’t entailed. Once Underwood has our land, the map, and Eggleston’s letter, you will be expendable. I will not allow you to come to harm. I will do anything to stop Underwood from hurting the one person I cherish most.”

“But how can you stop him?” Prudence asked, swallowing thickly, fighting back her emotions. She couldn’t believe the lengths to which Tobias had gone for everyone but himself. If Lord Underwood suspected Tobias was the Black Regent and that Tobias was responsible for his insolvency, Tobias wouldn’t stand a chance. Underwood would kill him.

“I already have a plan in motion,” Tobias said. “You won’t like it, but if it works, we will be free.”

A sinking feeling weighted Prudence’s feet to the floor. This time, there wouldn’t be any lies. She would be in on Tobias’s scheme. And she had no intention of allowing her husband to put himself in danger again. “What do you intend to do?”

“Fight Markwick.”

FIVE

Sources apprise
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
that REVENUE officers scuffled with a constable at the INDIAN QUEEN after an apparent misunderstanding involving the BLACK REGENT and the
Fury
’s crew. The former, having been RESCUED from a gale crushing their ship against rocks near ANSTEY’S COVE, now free of DANGER, shared drinks with the latter, toasting the highest commendations of PROSPERITY and success, much to the chagrin of Lady O.

~
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
, 11 November 1808

Hours later, after the storm cleared, Mr. Denny exited the cottage and made his way to the stable wearing Tobias’s cloak. He led Manfred out into the light and mounted, speeding down the lane toward the manor house with a purposeful pace.

“Won’t he be an easy target?” Prudence whispered, fearing the man would die attempting to fool their enemies. She couldn’t bear the thought that she’d be partly responsible for Mrs. Denny’s loss. “And won’t the men chasing us wonder why he’s alone?”

“After they shot at us, they will think I left you here to keep you safe.Underwood doesn’t want to hurt yo
u
. .
.
yet.”

His rationale was as shocking as the idea that Lord Underwood was a greedy killer. She still hadn’t digested that information. “Mr. Denny is in immediate danger. Won’t they strike at him, thinking to kill you before he reaches the manor house?”

“My Jones is keen as a fox,” Mrs. Denny said. “Had to be to survive in the revenue service.”

Tobias bowed his head to Mrs. Denny, then ushered Prudence to the back door of the cottage. “As Mrs. Denny said, there’s nothing to fear. Prior to attending your wedding, I had men stationed in the woods close to the house. If anyone follows Denny, they’ll get a surprise they won’t forget.”

She gasped. “That’s why you had him wear your cloak.” Understanding dawned. “But if the house is surrounded by guards, why wouldn’t it be safe enough for us?” She simply couldn’t bear Mrs. Denny becoming a widow in her stead.

She expected him to look at her as if she was daft. He did no such thing. Tenderness softened his features, making her feel as though he truly cared for her concerns.

“No plan is error proof,” he said, his voice hinting that he’d seen failure in the past. “I will not take chances with your life. Underwood has proven he will do anything to get to you, including murdering me and burning down our stables. Do you honestly think the manor house will be off-limits? No. You are safer with me,” he said, running his finger down the side of her cheek, sparking a fire inside her. “And you are not expendable.”

She closed her eyes against the glorious agony his touch produced. Was it wrong to desire Tobias? To long for his kisses, his assurances, his embrace? What guarantees did she have that he wouldn’t break her heart again? None. He hadn’t said the three words she longed to hear, yet, either:
I love you.
But he’d sworn that everything he’d done was for her. He’d pretended to be dead to keep Lord Underwood from attacking the manse. He’d provided a steward to watch over her and aid in the running of their estate. He’d become a pirate to undermine Lord Underwood and limit his power. And he’d come back to keep Lord Underwood from using her to get the map. Good God, she thought, panicking. A few days ago, in her naïveté, she’d set the survey in front of Lord Underwood’s face hoping that she and Basil could obtain a partnership that would benefit both estates. Thank God she’d refused to leave it and had taken it back with her to Blackmoor.

“Come,” he said, taking her hand. “It’s time.”

She turned slowly to Mrs. Denny and sucked in a supportive breath, hating herself for leaving the woman alone with her baby. She was the Duchess of Blackmoor. For too long the mantle of protection had been on her shoulders. But the Dennys depended on Tobias’s estate for their livelihood. Who was she to fail them?

“God’s speed, madam,” Mrs. Denny said, dipping a curtsy.

Prudence nodded solemnly. “Thank you.” She reached out and caressed the baby’s face, her heart purged of any ill feelings about the lies the Dennys had told her. Their oath to Tobias proved they were trustworthy people. “Take good care of him,” she said, offering a silent prayer this madness would end.

Would she ever hold her own baby in her arms?

Tobias gently took her hand and led her toward the exit. Each cloaked in borrowed dark wool, they eased out the back door and slipped outside, meandering through the Dennys’ walled garden. They didn’t stop there but moved through an opening in the stones, then quickly followed a rocky trail. Tobias expertly led the way, making her wonder how he knew this terrain. He put up his hand, giving a silent order for her to stop. Then he disappeared, but not for long. Within moments, he returned to lead her down several treacherous inclines covered in fern, gorse, blackthorn, and primrose before a small boat appeared, tied to a sunken post.

The titillating danger heightened her senses, making her feel more alive than she’d ever felt. She attributed the sensation to Tobias’sso-called labor of lov
e—
her freedom. Her heart clenched. Was it possible he was finally telling her the truth? The Dennys believed him, had helped him. Mrs. Denny even trusted Tobias with Mr. Denny’s life. What benefit was there in it for him to lie to her now?

Their breaths misted before them, fanning about their shoulders as she hurried to follow Tobias. Tension thickened the spring air as he carefully signaled for her to board the tiny vessel. She moved to do as he’d bade her, inhaling a stabilizing breath when her foot dipped into the cold water, soaking her slipper. She settled into the boat, refusing to complain as Tobias momentarily disappeared again. Sitting alone, cold, afraid the tiny vessel would break free of its mooring and she’d be swept out to her death, Prudence bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as she watched her husband—apparently an infamous pirate—barrel out of the bushes, untie the ropes holding the cutter steady, then lift the oars and navigate the boat by pushing them off the riverbank into the swift-flowing current. By the time they were safely in the middle of the river, her nerves were worn thin.

They traveled in silence. Water lapped against the hull as Tobias worked the oars rhythmically into the river. Prudence sat stiffly before him, struggling to catch her breath. She’d never felt so at odds with her emotions before. Even while her heart had been breaking, Tobias had been fighting to protect her. And he’d kept her safe until she’d found the map. What would happen to them now?

All at once, Mr. Leyes’s salutation echoed in her ears:
Your prayers have been answered, child. Go in peace.

Yes. She’d been given a miracle. Tobias
was
alive. Would it be possible for them to live in peace? Tobias’s vendetta against Lord Underwood could lead him to his grave—permanently. She’d be a fool not to forgive his betrayal when the very truth of his existence brought her exceeding joy. But what of his secrets? Was there room in her heart to forgive those, too?

Light gave way to a brilliant sunset as Tobias steered the small boat out of the Exe River and into the Lyme Sea where he—even with his strong, muscular body—struggled to row against the crashing surf. He toiled for what seemed like hours as they progressed toward imposing granite cliffs. The wind shouted. Gulls cawed, cutting through the air on shifting wings toward their nests. She’d never seen the coast from this angle before and she couldn’t resist a shiver of dread. Would they be smashed against the rocks as Tobias floated them through a narrowing, cave-like opening at the bottom of a rock face?

“Oh!” she cried, clenching the hull tightly as the rocks grew closer, then veered away on each cresting tidal surge.

“Have no fear. We are safe,” Tobias said softly.

She tried desperately to believe him as she gazed up and down, surveying the growing expanse unveiled within the granite cathedral. “What is this place?”

“A natural fortress.”

“Are you not afraid it will collapse on our heads?”

His laughter didn’t ease her nerves. “This cave has been carved out by the sea. It’s been here for hundreds of years, if not more. There’s no need to be afraid. I’ve navigated it countless times.”

She gasped as they rounded a bend in the rock wall and glowing lights penetrated the darkness. With every stroke of the oars, more of the hidden lagoon was revealed. And to her amazement, a colossal black ship appeared, filling the space, its masts seeming to barely clear the cavern’s roof.

The
Fury
!

The ship was surrounded by a conclave of men, actively in motion, going about various tasks. Barrels, bundles, and bags lined the rock face, stacked one on top of the other. Crates were strewn about, either upended and opened or piled on the cave floor. The acoustics of the space were strong, carrying conversation as each man spoke cautiously to the other.

Prudence covered her mouth and sat as still as she possibly could to keep from making a sound and giving away their presence. But she needn’t have bothered. A man standing ashore released a low whistle and reached out his hand. “Heva.”

Tobias pulled the oars inside. “Bear a hand,” he replied, throwing out a rope.

“Ready,” the pirate replied. He caught the twisted hemp and began mooring the vessel to its makeshift port while waiting for the current to assist him. Wood grated against rock, and Prudence grasped the hull to keep from flipping into the water.

“Successful mission, Cap’n?” The seaman removed his cap. “No trouble reclaiming your missus?”

“Everything went off exactly as we planned,” Tobias said, slowly hopping to solid ground, favoring his leg, then turning to reach out a hand to help her ashore.

She cast a wary glance at the man, then inspected the spacious cavern. The
Fury
’s imposing masts made her feel small and insignificant next to Tobias’s watchful crew. Likewise, the men stopped their duties to gawk at the newcomer.

She suppressed a shiver, recalling every horrifying story she and Chloe had ever heard or read about pirates. The Black Regent’s crew looked exactly as she and Chloe had speculated, with their linen neckerchiefs, varieties of calico shirts, loose-fitting jackets, buff-toned trousers with sashes tied about their waists, leather belts and straps worn diagonally across their chests and decorated with weapons of various size and increment. They were a frightful, unkempt sight.

Tobias cleared his throat. When she looked at him again, he smiled like a boy caught stealing cream. “My lady, may I introduce my first mate, Angus Pye?”

The pirate bowed politely, drawing her gaze to his legs . . . er, leg.
Wooden
leg.

She quickly dipped a curtsy, trying not to stare at his impediment.

“Pye, behold my wife, the Duchess of Blackmoor.”

“’Tis a pleasure to meet you at last,” Angus said, offering a crooked but charming smile. As she wondered how long he had been with her husband, the man bobbed his head again, then turned to Tobias. “Everything is ready.”

Tobias nodded and took Prudence’s hand. Together, they wove their way through hoards of stolen merchandise, past the
Fury
’s figurehea
d—
a woman clothed in a billowing shift, her hand outstretche
d—
to the gangplank leading up to the quarterdeck. The ship was an architectural wonder, a surprising blackened beauty with its gun decks, rigging, carronades, three towering masts, and furled sails.

No wonder it had never been caught.

Tobias ground his teeth in frustration.
I am an unmitigated ass,
he thought, watching Prudence cautiously navigate the hatch to descend the main companionway stairs with queenly poise. Nothing had changed in Exeter since his hypothetical death—
except
his wife. She’d once been a meek, easily persuaded woman, charged by flights of imagination. This Prudence was no longer cast from a cocoon of characters in Gothic novels. The estate thrived. His accounts were in pristine order and Blackmoor’s figures had increased under her watchful eye. She’d taken care of his tenants when there had been a need, Mrs. Denny’s difficult pregnancy included. Fierce in her defense of his duchy, she’d taken hold of his responsibilities like a lioness forged out of desert sand. And damn him, he couldn’t ignore the admirable transformation any more than he could deny the heart pumping blood through his foul veins.