Enter The Brethren (The Brethren of the Coast) (12 page)

“But, I do not understand.”  Caroline again read the missive.  “Why would Trevor take me?”

“Do you recall Dalton’s story involving a pilfered paramour?”

“Yes, he was quite full of himself.”

“Well,
he
is the bounder Dalton crossed.”  Blake curled an arm around her waist.  “He thought you a whore.  In recompense, he drugged the crew and kidnapped you with seduction as his sole objective.  Did you not see their bodies strewn about the deck?”

“He wrapped me in a blanket for my protection--or so he claimed.”  She frowned, and Trevor felt it all the way to his toes.  “I saw nothing.”

He glanced at the sky, rolled his shoulders, and exhaled a breath in a failed attempt to alleviate the tension investing him.  How was he ever going to get himself out of this mess?  “I can assure you, had I known her connections I
never
would have taken her.”  The last was said with a wealth of meaning he prayed Blake and Damian comprehended.

“What?”  Caroline gasped; she searched his eyes as their gazes met.  “After everything we shared--”  She bit her lip and appeared on the verge of tears.  If she cried, Trevor knew he was a dead man.

“Why did you not apprise him of your personage?” Blake asked with unveiled irritation.

At her sibling’s prompt, she masked her sadness behind a haughty façade no actress on Drury Lane could best, and thereby saved his skin.  “I had sought to protect my identity and our good name.”  Caroline swallowed hard and continued to stare as if he had three heads.  “If it were known that I had sailed without proper escort, with a man--friend or not--our family would be ruined.”

As the brother and sister quarreled, Trevor wondered if the situation could get any worse.

“Of all the senseless, ridiculous, imbecilic...Caroline, do you realize this situation might have been avoided had you simply revealed your identity?” Blake railed.  “My God, woman, what were you thinking?”

“Well, that is fine.  Blame me for this.”  She glared at her brother and thrust her chin in the air.  “I had been kidnapped.  For all I knew, he could have held me for ransom.  But he promised to deliver me safely to London, if only I agreed to be his mistress for the voyage.”

“If only you agreed to be his mistress?  Oh, I can guarantee you will be much more than his mistress.”  Blake stood as an impressive sentry.  “He will make you an honorable offer, else I will stew his gullet.”

Trevor tugged on his shirt collar, because his predicament had just gotten worse.

“You can’t mean that.”  Caroline fisted her hands in her brother’s shirt.  “I know you too well, you would never force me to wed.  And he is not suitable.”

“I beg to differ.”  Her sibling scoffed.  “He is an excellent candidate for a husband.”

“You must be joking.”  She teetered, and for a moment, Trevor thought she might faint.  “He is a-a sailor.”

“Aye.”  Blake inclined his head.  “As am I.  What is your point?”

“I was referring to his station.”  Caroline averted her stare.  “Or lack thereof.”

Now that comment raised his hackles.  How dare she attempt to cast a slur on his heritage?  Just as fast, Trevor reminded himself she was not aware of his background.

“Wait a minute.”  Her brother wiped his face with his hand.  “Do you not know of his--”

“Your sister is not privy to my position.”  Trevor paused, wondering how to phrase his reason for keeping her in the dark.  “Since I assumed she was a woman of loose morals, and she did not correct my assumption, I thought she might try to take me for money.”

Eyes flaring, Caroline whirled on him in a flash.  “How dare you say such a thing?”

Once more, Blake raised his sword.

In light of the current threats to his person, it was obvious he had not spoken wisely.

“Hold hard.”  Damian stepped between them.  To Trevor, he said, “You really should quit while you’re ahead.”

“It was an honest mistake.”  He held up his palms.  “And she never once gainsaid me.”

“Let me at him,” Blake hissed.

“Not until he restores her reputation.”  Damian peered over his shoulder.  “That, I believe, is our primary intent.”

“All right.  He can speak his vows.”  Blake hugged his sister.  “Then I will kill him.”

“You are not making sense.”  Caroline blinked in an owlish fashion.  “Papa will roll over in his grave if you force me to the altar.  And Trevor does not want to marry me.”  She cast him a curious glance.  “Do you?”

“Well--”

“What he wants is of little consequence.  He is governed by the same precepts, my dear,” Damian explained.  “As such, he will have to make amends.”

“You’re a member of the peerage?” she inquired.

The quarterdeck was as quiet as a tomb.

Tension grew in the silence.

“Perhaps I should do the honors.”  Damian swept an arm in an exaggerated flourish.  “Lockwood, may I present Lady Caroline Elliott.”

Looking Caroline straight in the eye, he stood tall.   “Trevor Reed Marshall, sixth Earl of Lockwood at your service, my lady.”  Wanting to make a good impression, if that were still possible, he sketched his most elegant bow.

“You’re an earl?”  Eyes wide as saucers, Caroline put her hand to her mouth.  “Oh, dear.”

“Oh, dear?  Is that the best you can manage?” Blake ground out.  “I found you in his bed--naked.  Tell me he forced you, and I shall dispatch him to his maker this instant.”

“He did not force me.  I gave myself of my own free will.”  Caroline stomped a foot to the deck.  “And stop repeating everything I say.”

For a scarce moment, Trevor thought of intervening on her behalf, but, in the interest of self-preservation, he remained quiet.  The other duke on deck raised a brow and appeared to be fighting a smile, laughter, or both.  He wondered what the man found so funny.

“I beg your pardon.”  Blake pressed a palm to his forehead and looked to be on the verge of an apoplectic fit.  “You allowed yourself to be compromised?”

“Yes.”  Caroline wrinkled her nose as she answered.

Blinking wildly, her brother seemed stunned.  “For the love of all creation, why?”

“Because I wanted him,” she declared with the unabashed forthrightness that Trevor always found attractive.  “And he wanted me.”

In that second, his respect for her grew by leaps and bounds.  For some unknown reason, he could not stop himself from grinning at her.  But his confidence waned when he spied the pain in her expression.  “Caroline, if you will hear me--”

“Or so I thought.”  She chuckled, self-mockingly.  “I should have known better than to believe in him.  I see now his only interest lay in the revenge he sought.  He did not want me,” Caroline stated with palpable bitterness, which scored a direct hit to his moral center.  “Once again, I was a pawn in another man’s game.”

Recalling the conversation in his cabin, her heartbreak at the hands of a blackguard, Trevor felt the worst sort of heel.  He ached to take her in his arms and apologize, to reassure her that, no matter what, everything would be fine.

“Good God, Caroline, tell me we are not back to that.”  Blake rolled his eyes and sighed.  “It was your first Season.  You have got to put that mess out of your mind.  You can’t allow one incident to ruin your whole life.  You must move on.  And you should have let me kill Darwith.”

“Darwith?”  Trevor’s mind raced.  “That was you?”

With the cry of a banshee, Caroline leapt at him, but her brother simply lifted her from the deck and jerked her back to his side.

“Let it go,” said Blake.

Trevor may not have known Caroline as long as her brother had, but he recognized what was shaping up to be a grand female tantrum.

“Do not tell me how to feel, it is my life.”  Standing toe to toe with her sibling, hands on hips, Caroline frowned.  “Besides, this is your fault.”

“My fault?”  Blake stared down his nose, his stance mirroring hers, and Trevor wondered if he should offer a bit of advice to the duke on how best to manage the strong-willed woman.  “Nothing would have happened if you had stayed home where you belong.”

“You knew I did not want to go through another Season.”  She humphed.  “And you promised you would be there.”

“I was there!” Blake roared.

“You were not when I left!” Caroline shouted, evidencing her lungs were just as strong as her brother’s.

“If you had not departed when you did, you would know I returned as promised.”  Blake wagged a finger inches before her face, and Trevor felt inclined to advise against such heavy handed tactics, lest the spirited lady render her brother one digit less than the standard five.  “But no--you had to run off like some scared rabbit.”

“I beg your pardon.”  Caroline folded her arms.  “Scared rabbit?  You resort to name calling because I do not fancy dressing up and preening about as a mare for auction at Tattersall’s?”

“Better that than parading naked on the high seas.”

“Blast it all, Blake, stop shouting at me.  I am not a child.”  Caroline thrust her fists to his chest.  “And I was not parading naked.  He is the only man who saw me thus.”

“If that was supposed to inspire confidence, you failed miserably.”

“You’re an old woman,” she fired back.

“And you are a spoiled brat.”

While the siblings continued their row, Damian neared.  “I should warn you, she has a bit of a temper.”

“Aye.”  Trevor clucked his tongue.  “We’ve met.”  Setting his fingertips to his temples, he rubbed in circles.  His head felt as if it would split in two at any moment.  His evocative little temptress was the sister of a duke and some relation to another.  And while Caroline battled a living legend that could make many a crusty salt quiver in his boots, invoking one rebuttal after another, rising to his defense in some circumstances, Trevor envisioned her, as she had looked that morning.

He recalled her chestnut locks splayed across his pillow and what he had done to transform them into a wild mass of tangles.  He remembered the velvety softness of her ivory skin and the sweet cries of feminine release that passed her honey lips.  What was a gentleman to do?

“
Enough
!”  Trevor stepped forward.  “Bring on the vicar.  I will marry her.”

#

Caroline had intentionally enacted a scene with her brother on the quarterdeck of the
Hera
so as not to cry in front of Trevor.  But once she had gained her stateroom aboard the
Tristan
, she had shed a river of tears.  The anguish, the utter disappointment was too much to bear.

Did no man want her?

A pounding on the door made her jump.  “Who is it?” she asked, as if she did not know.

“Very funny.”  Blake stormed his way into her chamber.  “Sooner or later, you are going to have to discuss the situation with me.”

“I shall opt for later.”  Though she had not thought her self-imposed exile would forestall the inevitable until they docked in London, she had hoped for at least a night to prepare for a confrontation with her too insightful elder sibling.

“I am not leaving.”  He closed the door and leaned against the oak panels.

“By all means, do come in.”  Seated in a chair, dressed in a pale blue day gown, one of several items their mother had packed in haste for her return journey, Caroline lowered the book she had been attempting to read and prayed for strength.

The last thing she wanted was to collapse in a fit of hysteria before her brother, not to mention she was tired of crying.  With slippered feet tucked under her chair and hands clasped atop the leather bound tome, she met Blake’s stare.

“What is it you wish to discuss?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“On the contrary, I am very serious.  The matter has ended, and there is nothing more to say.”  She folded her arms as if to emphasize her point.  “I do not want to marry him.  Indeed, I do not wish to marry, ever.  I will return for the Season and put on a brave face.  When all is done I shall retire to the country, with Mama, and content myself with life as a spinster.  I will have cherished memories to see me through the years, and I shall never regret one moment I spent aboard the
Hera
.”

“It is not that simple.”  Blake approached and rested his hip against the back of her chair.  “You have been compromised.  Even now you could be carrying his child.  You are my sister, and I will stand with you, come what may, but you must consider Mama.  Your ruin will be borne by our entire family.”  He tapped the tip of her nose, a gesture that evoked many fond childhood memories.  “Think, Caroline, not just us, but Mama, as well.  You know her.  She is quite the
grande dame
, and this will destroy her.”

“I would rather you had forced me.”  Caroline swallowed hard.  In her desperation to flee London, she had not considered how her actions might impact her family.  She had always loathed the social strictures of the peerage, which had often dictated her life as if she were a marionette on a miniature stage.

“You’re disappointed in me, are you not?”

“I wish I could understand your rationale.”  With uncharacteristic stoicism, Blake did not meet her gaze.  “I wish I could sympathize with your motive and subsequent actions.  It might be easier to make sense of this predicament.”

For a second, Caroline contemplated sharing her dilemma, her heartbreak.  But there was nothing to be gained, other than inciting her brother further and placing Trevor’s neck in greater peril.  “Pray, continue.”

“Yes, I am disappointed.”  Blake rubbed his eyes, and she noted the lines of strain etched on his forehead.  “I had thought you a woman of good judgment and character.  I hold you in higher esteem than most men of my acquaintance.

“Have I overindulged you?  Was I too lenient in your upbringing?  Perhaps it was wrong of me to encourage your independent nature.”  Taking a deep breath, he exhaled on a huff.  “Somehow I feel as though I’ve failed you.  I have always taken such pride in your self-reliance.  It has been of great comfort while at sea that I did not have to worry about you.  How could you act with such reckless disregard for your own safety?  How could you put yourself in this position?”

“For heaven’s sake, Blake, you act as if I intended to be kidnapped.”  She stared at her clenched fists.  “I meant to avoid the Season.  I do not see how you can blame me for my abduction.”