Enticing Miss Eugenie Villaret (27 page)

After she’d broken her fast, Eugénie glanced in the passageway. Seeing no one, she went to the helm to ingratiate herself with the captain and find out what weapons were on board. “May I look through the telescope?”

The man smiled indulgently. “
Oui, mademoiselle
. Shall I show you how it works?”

She returned his smile. “There is no need. I have used one once before.”

Opening it up, she searched the sea, wondering where William was. She had not wanted to ask for a glass around her uncles. The less they knew about her sailing or other skills, the better. Finally three tall masts came in to view. The ship was moving so quickly through the water, it could only be the
Swift Wind
. William must have asked Mr. Henriksen to help him. Eugénie’s chest tightened with joy. Soon she’d be with her husband again, and he would find Papa.

The
Swift Wind
was so close, they must have held off during the night to approach in daylight. She smiled to herself, closed up the glass, and handed it back to the captain.

“Did you see anything interesting? A whale or a mermaid perhaps?” The captain gave her a patronizing smile.

She schooled her expression into one of compete innocence and sighed. “
Non, monsieur le capitaine
. I see nothing but water. Thank you for its use.” She started to turn, then stopped. “Oh,
pardonnez moi
.” Eugénie gave him her most winsome look. “It is not that I do not trust your crew, but is there a key to my cabin I may have?”

“
Oui, oui, mademoiselle
. Of course.” He puffed his chest out. “There is no insult.
Naturellement
a young lady wishes to lock her door. If you look in my cabin, on the wall by the door, the keys are kept there.”

She widened her eyes. “In
your
cabin, monsieur?”

“Ah,
oui
. I understand your hesitation, but I assure you no one will bother you.”

“Merci beaucoup.”
Eugénie lowered her eyes. “Perhaps I shall feel well enough to dine with all of you this evening.”

He bowed. “It would be my greatest pleasure, mademoiselle.”

Once below deck, Eugénie listened carefully for any sound indicating one or more of her uncles were awake. All she heard was snoring. Making her way quietly, she reached the captain’s cabin and opened the door. Just as he’d said, a row of keys hung from hooks on the wall, and they were all neatly labeled. The problem was, none of the doors carried corresponding numbers or names. She grabbed the cabin keys. First she tried the captain’s door. They all fit, but only one would turn. After replacing that key, she tried her lock, found the right key, then dropped it into one of the pockets she’d insisted on having in her skirts. That left three more keys. Staying alert for any noises that would signify someone else was coming, she picked the next door over. A loud snore reassured her. When she found the correct key, she snicked the lock shut and listened for the next snore. Instead, a door down the passageway opened.

“
Bonjour
, Eugénie.”

Drat! Yves
.

“Bonjour, mon oncle.”
She gave him a small smile, as if her head still hurt, while slipping the remaining keys into her other pocket. “Did you sleep well?”

He grinned. “As well as could be expected on a ship. I will be glad to return home. Are you feeling better this morning?”

She let her lips droop. “Only a little. I thought to take some air and return to my room. If you will excuse me.”

Yves gave a slight bow. “Of course. Do not tax your strength. You must remain in good health.”

As long as the
canaille
believed she was still unmarried, he would do everything he could to keep her safe. Eugénie repressed a shudder, but what would happen if he discovered her deception?

She strolled past him, returning to the deck, where she strode to the stern. Several moments later,
Swift Wind
came into view. If Mr. Henriksen stayed on his present course, she’d be able to signal them from the port window in her cabin.

Yes, that was a good plan. At least then William would know where to find her. Eugénie prayed he’d come soon.

D
awn was breaking as the
Belle Amie
sailed out of Marigot harbor, St. Martin. Nathan stood at the bow; the others in his group were still asleep. Within an hour of departing Saint-Pierre, everyone but Conrad, Miss Marshall, and Vincent had come down with seasickness.

Two days later, in an effort to combat the effects of mal de mer, Vincent ordered the ship to put in at St. Martin to pick up more beef. Fortunately for Nathan, once on board and in the fresh air, he had rapidly begun regaining his strength. He grinned to himself. It would never do to return to Sidonie in a weakened state. During his captivity the thought that he’d never see his wife and children again overwhelmed him to the point where he’d had to lock them away deep in his heart and try not to think of them over much. But now, now he was within a few short days’ sail of St. Thomas. If, that was, they could out run the hurricane steadily pushing them north. With any luck it would be nothing more than high winds and rain. Still, they would need to find a hurricane hole in which to wait out the weather if it became necessary.

As he and Vincent had agreed to take the others to Tortola before heading for St. Thomas, Nathan hoped they’d make Gorda Sound on Virgin Gorda in time. He strolled to the stern, taking in the waves and still-white clouds, knowing they could change quickly and at any time.

Vincent came on deck just as they entered the Anguillita Spur. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough.” Nathan handed his friend the spyglass. “I’ll be glad to get home.”

“It is a shame the weather will probably hold you up a bit.”

Nathan nodded absently. His mind was so full, he couldn’t think. Though the first thing he’d like to do was kill Vicomte Villaret. Gazing out over the ocean, Nathan searched for any vessels that might cause trouble, and stopped. “Hand me the glass.”

“What is it?” Vincent asked as he gave Nathan the telescope.

“I’ll tell you in a moment.” He focused on something that looked like two sets of masts. Several minutes later, they came clearly into view. “What the devil is Henriksen doing out here?” It was then Nathan brought the galley into focus. For some reason
Swift Wind
was bearing down on the other vessel. “We’re about to see some action.” He shut the glass with a snap and bounded to the helm, shoving the telescope into the captain’s hand. Thank God, Vincent had had the good sense to hire an Englishman. “See the two ships out there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re going to join them.” Then he’d see what his friend Bendt was up to, and ask if he required any help. Damn, it felt good to be able to be of use again.

A grin split the younger man’s face. “Aye, aye, sir.”

In no time they’d changed headings and were traveling on a path toward the other two ships.

Will stood at the rail of
Swift Wind
with Henriksen as the man handed him the telescope. “You can see the galley off to the larboard side, my lord.”

He lifted it to his eye.
Damnation!
Yet there was no way in hell he’d admit to never being able to see a thing through one of these things, other than water. He’d have to have Eugénie show him how to use the blasted instrument. If he ever saw her again. He ground his teeth. “How long will it take to reach her?”

“Under an hour and you’ll have your Eugénie back.”

Will returned the glass to Henriksen. “Good.”

A completely irrelevant thought floated through Will’s mind.
His sisters would enjoy hearing about this story for months.

“I would have approached sooner,” Henriksen said, “but I wanted to see who has decided to join us.”

Will shook his head, not understanding.

Henriksen pointed to a dark spot on the horizon that Will could barely make out. “Safer to know if it’s friend or foe.”

“Yes.” Damn. He’d slept like hell, alternately missing Eugénie, worrying about her, and wishing he could turn her over his knee and give her the spanking of her life for not trusting him to deal with the problem. His teeth hurt from grinding them, and his stomach was so sour he’d only been able to manage a cup of tea and a slice of bread. “I’ll wake the others.”

Andrew and Cicely were at the long table in the room next to the galley. She smiled. “Good morning.”

Will tried to return it and couldn’t. “We have company.”

Andrew stopped gazing into his wife’s eyes long enough to glance up. “Who?”

“Dev . . . I don’t know.” Will told them what Henriksen had seen.

“I’ll be right up,” Andrew said, as he and Cicely both rose.

Were they joined at the hip?

Will scrubbed his face with his hand. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry, Will.” Cicely smiled up at him. “We’ll have her back to you before you know it.”

A half hour later, he was gripping the rail so tightly his knuckles turned white. “How much longer until we know?”

Andrew lowered the glass. “The unidentified ship has raised some flags. It won’t be long now.”

“It’s Vincent Beaufort!” Henriksen called from the helm. “He’s got Nathan with him!”

“How can you tell that from the flags?” Will called.

Henriksen laughed. “Not from the flags, my lord. I can see him.”

“Thank God he truly is alive!”
Aunt Sidonie’s fist went to her mouth, and tears shone in her eyes.

Will had been so focused on the ship he hadn’t even noticed his aunt on the deck.

Andrew turned to Cicely. “Get the pistols.”

She nodded and dashed off.

“Mrs. Wivenly,” Henriksen said, “please go below. Nathan would never forgive me if anything were to happen to you.”

For a moment she drew her brows together as if she’d balk, then she inclined her head sharply. “Don’t forget to call me when I can return.”

“I won’t forget.”

Not long after Will’s aunt left, Cicely returned with three pistols. She handed one to Andrew and one to Will, keeping the third one for herself.

She gave Andrew a kiss. “If the ship is boarded, I’ll be near the middle mast.”

“You’ll stay out of the fighting?”

She placed her hand on his cheek. “Of course. Stay safe. You, husband, are not allowed to die.”

Henriksen called for the guns to be readied.

They were rapidly bearing down on one side of the galley. While the other ship approached on the opposite side, it wasn’t going to arrive in time to help.

How Henriksen did it, Will would never know. The
Swift Wind
came along the left side of the galley as the other ship flanked the right. Henriksen ordered the ship with Eugénie on it to heave to. Which, surprisingly enough, they did. Of course it might have been due to the guns pointed at them.

The other ship’s captain was distracted by a dark-haired man of medium-height, waving his arms around when the grappling hooks landed, securing the galley to the
Swift Wind
.

Will searched the deck for Eugénie, but didn’t see her anywhere. Were they wrong? Had she been taken on another ship? Or was she hurt?

“There she is.” Cicely pointed to a port window where Eugénie leaned out, waving and blowing kisses.

God, he’d just lost at least ten years of his life worrying about her. He sent up prayers of thanks she was alive and appeared to be in good health. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Are you coming,” Andrew asked in a drawl, “or do you just plan to stand there staring at her?”

“Yes. Right now.”

When Will landed on the galley’s deck, the dark-haired man raced to the hatch leading to the lower deck,

That was where Eugénie was
.

Will darted after the blackguard. If the cur touched her, he was a dead man. He reached the ladder as the blackguard was pounding on a door, yelling something in French. Eugénie answered. Thank God she had the sense to lock herself in.

Suddenly there was the sound of a door crashing into a wall.

He jumped the last few feet. “Eugénie, where are you?”

“At the end of the passageway.”

“
Salope!
Who is that? Your lover?”

No one called his wife a whore. Anger boiled up in Will and for the first time in his life, a red haze passed before his eyes. He’d kill the blackguard just for that. In a few rapid strides he was at the splintered door of her cabin. The scoundrel held her trapped against him. Her dagger lay on the floor.

“Villaret, I presume.”

“Yes, and who are you?” the man spat.

“I’m Viscount Wivenly, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll unhand my wife.”

The man’s eyes widened in shock, then he snarled, “Was your wife. Now she will be a widow.”

She tried to jerk away, but her uncle’s grip tightened, and he pulled out a dagger. “Stop, niece, unless you wish to die as well. You are no good to me married.”

Eugénie started to struggle again. “You murdered my papa, didn’t you?”

“No. I told you he is safe. Remain still.”

She brought her foot down on Villaret’s instep.

“Damn you!” he roared and backhanded her, sending her sprawling onto the floor. Her head hit the bunk.

The boat lurched, causing both men to brace themselves. Before Will got his footing, a flash of silver flew toward him. He ducked, and shot. The dagger struck the side of the doorway, where his head had been.

Villaret crumpled to the floor, blood pouring out of the hole in his chest.

Will picked up Eugénie. An angry red mark marred her cheek. He’d shoot her uncle again for hurting her. “My love, are you all right?”

She buried her face in his coat and sobbed. “I was so afraid he had killed you.”

He wasn’t going to tell her how close it had been. “A knife is no match against a pistol.” William crushed her to him, kissing her as if his hunger would never end. “I’m going to wring your neck.”

“I’m so glad you are alive and this is over.”

Eugénie slid down his length, pressing her body into his.

As her fear lessened, her desire for him rose, and he walked her backward toward the passageway. “I know, but what else could I do? Papa . . .”

One hand cupped her derrière, holding her against his desire. “He’s on his way here.”

She tightened her grip and tried to put her legs around him. “
Dieu merci!
William, I love you so much for doing this for me.”

He chuckled as his fingers brushed her nipple. “As much as I’d like to take credit, I didn’t bring him to you, my darling. He’s coming to us on another ship.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Papa’s angry voice boomed into the room, causing her to plant her feet firmly on the floor. “And who the devil are you?”

Eugénie began to laugh. Not the ladylike one with small giggles, but deep, from her stomach. Was she having the vapors?

“It’s all right, my love. I’ll protect you.”

“
Non
,
non
. You don’t understand.”

Will refused to lessen his grip on Eugénie. “I, sir, am her husband.” Will barked over his shoulder, “Who the hell are
you
?”

“Papa.”
The word shot from her lips as if she didn’t have breath for another.

Well, that answered that question.

“Husband?”
Uncle Nathan stared at him.

Eugénie clung to Will as if to protect him from her father. “We married two days ago.”

“You still haven’t told me who
he
is.”

Tucking Eugénie next to him, Will faced a man who looked almost exactly like his father. “Your great-nephew. William, Viscount Wivenly.”

Uncle Nathan stared at Will as if trying to place him. “You look like your maternal grandfather.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“How did you marry my daughter when she’s still underage?”

Eugénie let go of Will and flew into her step-father’s arms. “We went to Tortola.” Nathan started, and she smoothed his coat. “Now, don’t be angry. Maman and the girls came as well.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Will narrowed his in response. Great-uncle or no, Eugénie was his, and no one was going to take her away from him.

“Did they?” Nathan asked suspiciously.

Clearly the man was not going to give it up.

She smiled. “Yes, Papa, and I’m very happy.” She glanced over her shoulder at Will. “Now I have my husband and my father. Papa, Maman is on Mr. Henriksen’s ship waiting for you.”

Eugénie moved from her father back to Will. “I know she’d like to see you.”

“And I want to see her, but first, who got killed?”

She covered her lips with one hand and gasped. “Oh.”

Will glanced down at Villaret. Blood covered the front of the man’s jacket where Will’s ball had entered. Before he thought to stop Eugénie, she was staring down at the body.

He expected shock or some sort of horrified response, but instead she said, “Oh, I suppose we should do something about him.” She glanced at Will. “Is he dead?”

“If he’s not now, he will be soon.” He pulled her back against him.

“When you are ready,” Uncle Nathan said in a dry tone, “I would like to know exactly who this”—he pointed at the body—“is.”

A shiver ran through Eugénie, but her voice was steady. “He said he was my uncle Yves, and he threatened to torture you and kill William. I think it is a very good thing he is dead. I only wish I could have done it myself.” After a moment she added, “I will not feel sorry for someone like him.”

Will bent to kiss her on the head, when a pounding started on one of the cabin doors.

“What is happening? Let me out,” a man shouted in French.

“That is my other uncle.” Eugénie curled her lip into a sneer. “I was able to lock him in his cabin this morning so that he could not cause trouble when you arrived.”

He truly had never met any woman like her. Will rubbed his forehead before addressing his uncle. “How do you wish to handle this, sir?”

“We need to depart soon. In case you didn’t know, there’s a storm coming and we must reach the hurricane hole on Virgin Gorda before it does. Take Eugénie—”

“Non.”
Her chin took on a familiar mulish cast. “I will not be kept out of this decision.”