Within a Captain's Hold (9 page)

Finally, the missing pieces to the puzzle. “What happened to your parents?”

Her breath caught. “A fire swept through the manor. It killed both my parents and my younger brother, Henry. Half of our staff. A dozen guests. Alice and I barely escaped. After I got her out, I tried to go back inside, but the flames moved so fast. I couldn’t reach them. It was too late.”

The anguish in her eyes was plain to see. “You mustn’t blame yourself for an accident.”

“But they were all there for me. My introduction to society. We hosted a ball that night. I wore a new silk gown.” She shook her head. Tears caught on her lashes. “The next day someone pulled a black dress over my head and shipped me to London to a man I hadn’t even known existed. Less than four months later, I’m standing in breeches in the quarters of a privateer wondering if I will ever wake from this nightmare.”

She reached for something at her neck, then frowned.

He poured her a brandy and brought it to her. “That’s quite the tale.”

“It’s the truth.” She stared into the glass.

“I believe you.” When she didn’t drink, he put a finger on the bottom of the glass and tipped it toward her. “You are many things, but an accomplished liar isn’t among them.”

“I’m not a half-wit, either,” she whispered.

“Nay. I was wrong in thinking you were.” He was so close, the specks of gold shone in her eyes and she smelled like sweet lemons. “I’ll remember what drove you to be here, if you’ll remember your peril is far from over. There are a thousand ways to die aboard this ship. All are most unpleasant.”

“I’d rather take my chances out here with you than in London with Wolfsan.”

He grinned at her. “Be careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t let it swell your head. You’re still an insufferable lout.”

* * * *

Jaxon stood in the bow, his hair tossing in the stiff breeze. A dull moon smudged the sky as the night stretched beyond his reach out to sea, yet he couldn’t see past his thoughts. Duke Wentworth was the man Giselle told him about. There was no question in his mind.

Moreover, he stalked Annalise. Given everything she had been through, her actions, however foolhardy, seemed justified. He recalled Giselle’s description of the young girl so close to death. That could have been Annalise had she not snuck aboard. His blood ran cold at the idea of Wolfsan even near her. Jaxon’s hands curled into fists.
Over my dead body.

Wolfsan carried two lanterns into the windowless room and set them on the polished table lighting the sparsely decorated space. He wrinkled his nose. Crumbling stonewalls leeched the ground’s moisture and dripped into muddied corners. The horrid space reeked of mold and mice. He smoothed his hands down the unadorned satin of his waistcoat. He was without his wig. The chill of the dank room felt odd against his cropped scalp.

He turned on his guest. “Ah, yes, you’re awake. Good.”

She blinked against the light. Fear flickered across her face.
“Wolfsan,”
her breath rushed from her lungs.

“That’s
Your Grace
to you,” he sneered at the young maid. “It seems we’ve caught a thief. How lovely you look in your mistress’s clothing and jewels.”

“I haven’t stolen anything.” She tugged against her restraints. “You have no right to hold me. Let me go.”

“I think not.” Wolfsan removed his gloves and ran his hands over the rounded flesh of her breasts pressed high by the gown. She kicked at him, but he quickly stepped out of range. A deep flush bloomed up the girl’s neck and pinked her cheeks. Her eyes flashed hot. He liked a bit of fight. It made things much more interesting.

Moving to the table, he poured himself a brandy from a decanter Sheffield left for him. He studied her over the rim of the glass. “This is going to be most enjoyable. I can sense it.”

He finished his drink and began circling her like a cat taunting a mouse. Green eyes glared at him.

“Why so silent? You must have questions. I would be most happy to answer them for you and then you can answer several for me.”

“I’ll tell you nothing. I’m not afraid of you.”

“Ah, your first mistake. It will be a costly one.” Wolfsan poured another drink and emptied the glass in one swallow. “I assume you are not dimwitted. You must realize your current plight, my dear. Your mistress is missing, as is her uncle, and you were found fleeing the city in her gown, wearing her jewels, with a fat purse of gold. Thievery alone will land you in Newgate for a very long time, and I’m sure I can convince the magistrate you were involved in the gruesome murder of the unfortunate Marquis. For that, my dear, you shall hang.”

“I’ll tell them the truth. You killed Lord Gatherone.”

Wolfsan laughed. “Ah, yes, they’ll believe the word of a servant over a duke. You do amuse us.” He poured another drink. The alcohol was spreading a pleasurable flush through him. “As I see it, you have limited choices. I can bring you at once to the authorities and promise you within a month’s time you shall be hanging from the gallows. Or, you can tell me the whereabouts of Lady Annalise, I can release you, and you can be on your way.” The lie danced off his tongue. His threat of prison a hollow one. She would never be leaving this room. Least not alive. Once he had his information and amusement, he’d have no use for her.

“If those are my choices, I choose Newgate, and when my neck is stretched upon the gallows, I’ll be smiling, for I’ll die knowing Annalise is safe from the very devil himself.”

Fury made him hurl his glass at her head. His aim was poor, and the crystal shattered against the wall behind her. Glittering shards and brandy rained down over the stones. “Foolish bitch.”

Wolfsan strode over to her and clasped the locket at her throat. Giving it a vicious pull, he ripped it from her neck. The thin chain cut into her tender skin. Bright blood wept from the wound. He wiped the face of the locket across her neck, smearing it with her blood and then slipped the necklace into the pocket of his coat.

Reaching out, he captured another smear of blood across his fingertips, rubbed it with his thumb, and tested the slip of it between his fingers. He lifted it to his nose and smelled its metallic tang. The smell brought a surge to his loins. He slid his gaze back to her.

“Where is she?”

The stupid chit lifted her stubborn chin and stared at him in defiance.

“I asked you a question. Answer me, you insufferable woman.” He swung his arm in a flash. The back of his hand struck a stinging blow across her smug face.

Her head snapped back and her eyelids fluttered. If he weren’t careful, she’d fall into unconsciousness again.

He leaned over her and growled. “You will tell me where she is.”

“I’ll never tell you.” She spit in his face.

Wolfsan reared back in horror, wiping the spittle from his cheek. He lunged at her. His hands circled her neck, cutting off her air.

She didn’t struggle against him as his fingers tightened. The cold bitch looked him straight in the eye. Her icy defiance unnerved him.

Damn her to hell.

He released her. Returning to the table, he then tossed his coat aside, loosened his cravat, and drank straight from the neck of the decanter before slamming it back down on the table.

The blasted maid fought to regain her breath as he pulled a knife from a side drawer. He played with it. Passing it from hand to hand, turning it this way and that, causing the blade to catch the lantern light and make it dance across the room. He tested its razor edge. Now she would pay for her insolence.

He wouldn’t be killing her quickly, however. Regardless of how much she provoked him. He’d be patient and control the urge to slit her throat until she told him where Annalise was hiding. After that, well, she’d come to regret his building anger.

Until then, he would taunt her, stoke her fear, break her. He approached her and held the knife’s tip over her heart. With each breath, the point of the blade pricked her skin. Wolfsan watched in rapt fascination as the steel marked her. He gave a small gasp of excitement. His sex hardened. Grabbing the front of her gown, he sliced it cleanly between the bones of the bodice, baring her breasts. A dark trickle of blood slid between the generous mounds.

A second slash slit her dress to the floor. She tried to kick at him, but he stood on her hems. Now he could easily lash each leg. When he finished, he stood and smiled. The tip of his tongue ran along his lower lip as she trembled before him. The paleness of her lips and the fright in her eyes aroused him more. Why wasn’t she squealing? It would be sublime if she screamed. Instead, the muscles in her jaw tightened. The fear in her eyes turned to fury. Did she dare believe she could win against him? He would enjoy destroying her.

Her gown hung in heavy pieces. Legs splayed and her arms tied behind her, she was naked and exposed. Wolfsan stood before her. The sight of her spread wide made his mouth water. His breeches grew tighter with the thought of his fiery cock ripping into her tender pink flesh. Feeling her break beneath his powerful thrusts. Succumbing to his strength. Bending under his control. He forgot about the knife in his hand and stroked the aching ridge in his trousers.

Again, he loomed over her. “Are you ready to tell me what I wish to know, or shall I begin to rid you of bits of your flesh? Perhaps I shall carve my monogram upon you. What say you, the whereabouts of your mistress or a fine scripted BW upon your thigh?”

The bitch stared straight ahead, mute. Her eyes glazed over as if her mind slammed shut against him. Did she actually believe she could escape his exquisitely planned torture? No, that wouldn’t do. He insisted she be fully aware of the torment and rape before he killed her.

“Fair enough, I warned you.” He made a shallow, curved slice along her inner thigh. The pain wrenched her back to reality. She screamed. Blood coursed down her leg, staining the gown beneath her.

Wolfsan watched the bloom of dark crimson with delight as she fought against her restraints. The heat to his loins blazed. He loosened the front of his breeches and pulled out his rock-hard cock.

An urgent knock at the door interrupted him from his reverie. Cursing, he righted his breeches and pointed the knife at her. “I will slit your throat if you make a single sound.”

Her scream filled the room and shattered the air. It rang in his ears as he struck her hard with the butt of his knife. The silence sudden as she slumped forward as far as her bindings would allow.

“Stupid bitch.”

Wolfsan opened the door just enough to keep the scene inside from curious eyes.

“What is it? I warned you not to disturb me.”

Sheffield, his manservant, had another man close behind.

“Your Grace, I know you told me not to interrupt your…questioning of Lady Gatherone’s maid, but this man has brought news.”

Wolfsan retreated, grabbed his coat, donned it to cover his arousal, and left the room, closing the door behind him. “Well, out with it. I have much to do.”

The man clutched his cap in his hands and made a quick bow. “Your Grace, I’ve followed some of the other Gatherone servants. One of the kitchen maids makes it a habit to visit the docks and dally with a young man in the harbormaster’s employ. When we pressed him, he confessed that he gave information to her and another servant regarding the
Scarlet Night
, a privateer sloop that left port the same evening as Mistress Gatherone’s disappearance. The boy insists she never followed through with her plans. However, they had details about the ship, the crew, and the all necessary information to smuggle someone aboard.”

“What else?”

“The lad insists Lady Gatherone fled north instead.”

“Gatherone’s staff tells the same tale. If it were true, we’d have located her. This ship, the
Scarlet Night
, where is it headed?”

“Well, he said Lady Gatherone was interested in any ship sailing to Port St. Maria. He told me the
Scarlet Night
was supposed to head there but the captain, a former pirate named Jaxon Steele, declared their final destination to be Port Royal.”

“Then that’s where we’ll find her.” Wolfsan motioned to the man. “Go and procure me passage on the fastest ship you can find. I’ll go at once to Port Royal and rescue Lady Gatherone from the hands of those pirate demons.”

“At once, m’lord.” He turned and quickly left.

At last. Did you think an ocean would stop us? You have much to learn, sweet Annalise, the least of which is how we punish those who displease us.

Wolfsan turned to Sheffield and motioned to the door. “Kill her.”

A lantern burned low in its brass cradle. Its flame sparkled in the diamond glass doors of the cabin’s cupboards. Anna lay wishing for sleep. She found comfort in the slow rolling creak of the timbers now, but her mind was too full. Even the rocking wouldn’t lull her to sleep this night.

Captain Steele--Jaxon--was asleep in his chair, feet propped upon his desk, arms folded across the breadth of his chest. There was something appealing about the fall of his unbound hair and the rough shadow of his beard.

She swept her fingers over her lips, remembering the feel of his mouth against hers. The softness of his lips. The taste of his tongue. Her breasts ached for his caress. How could she fear and desire him at the same time? She knew the answer. He’d shown her tenderness and kissed her as a man kissed a woman. Held her against the solid width of his chest where she felt safe.

Safe?
Ha. She was far from safe. And yet, for a brief moment, she had a sense of it. Lying in the dark of the alcove, she tried to recall the last time she had such a feeling. Her father’s embrace had always been a comfort to her. She’d tickle her nose against the lacy waterfall of his cravat. Smell the sweetness of his pipe tobacco. He always had the power to chase her fears away.

Annalise rolled over as her grief crested like a wave. Those fears were of the darkness in the night and spiders on the curtains. They were the naive terrors of a sheltered childhood. Now alone and adrift in a cruel world, she craved the embrace of a pirate to ease her fright. How had it come to this?