Gregory, Lisa (24 page)

His
eyes darkened with anger, and he just looked at her for a moment, his jaw set,
the mark of her hand plain on his face, first white, then swiftly turning to
red. Her slap made him furious. He had always disliked women who, secure in the
knowledge that a gentleman would not return their blow, slapped one whenever
they were in a tiff. It galled him not to be able to return a blow, especially this
one—Katherine delivered a real haymaker, not a little ladylike slap.

Suddenly
he reached out and threw her onto the bed. Before she could scramble off, he
was on top of her, kneeling across her, holding her so that she could not move.
She lashed out at him with her fists, raining blows on his face and chest, but
he quickly grabbed her wrists and firmly shoved her arms down against the bed
above her head. She writhed helplessly beneath him.

"Well,
what will it be, madame? Shall I make love to you? Or shall I toss up your
skirts and take you? It's up to you. You enjoyed it this morning, but that's
awful, isn't it? You cannot let yourself realize that you enjoyed my caresses!
You have to make me force you. If I rape you, it's not your fault, is it?
Perhaps you would prefer it if I tied you down—that would really satisfy you,
wouldn't it? You would be so completely at my mercy, so completely innocent.
Now, Miss Devereaux, what is it to be? Are you going to face up to your passions
or are you going to continue to lie to yourself?"

"You
bastard!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Ah,
I see you have come up with a new word. It warms the cockles of my heart to see
you sliding further and further into the sinful depths of profanity."

It
was difficult to breathe with his heavy weight on top of her, but she continued
to struggle and to gasp out a tirade of abuse against him, using every word she
had ever heard around the docks, though she didn't know the meaning of half of
them. He ignored her, casually unbuttoning his trousers and shifting his weight
momentarily in order to pull up her skirts and roughly pull down her pantalets.
Brutally he entered her, climaxed quickly, and then abruptly withdrew, and she
felt his weight leave her entirely. She gave a soft moan of humiliation, and
rolled to the far side of the bed, making feeble efforts to right her clothing.

Behind
her, she could hear him moving about the room getting undressed. She pressed a fist
against her mouth to stifle a sob, her mind a jumble of hot, vengeful thoughts.
Someday, somehow, she would pay him back for this. She would hurt him, make him
suffer. The bed creaked beneath his weight, and he put one hand up her skirt on
her bare leg and squeezed it.

"That
is more what rape is, little one," he said.

"I
wish you were dead!" she rasped. "I would love to see you killed! I
would love to see you sliced up into little pieces. I wish I had a gun and I'd
blow your head off."

"Bloodthirsty
wench, aren't you?" he said dryly and rolled away from her.

Soon
his heavy, even breathing told her he was asleep, and she slipped off the foot
of the bed. She pulled up her pantalets and smoothed down her skirts. Her legs
were trembling so that she had to sit down in a chair. Her thoughts were incoherent,
but one thing was clear in her mind: she would not spend the night at that
brute's side. Soon, however, she grew quite sleepy, and her back began to hurt
from sitting in the hard, straight chair. There was no sofa to sleep on, or
even a comfortable chair. But she refused to go back to his bed. Finally she
took a blanket from the foot of the bed and reached across his sleeping form
for the other pillow. Then she moved as far from the bed as possible, threw
down the pillow, wrapped the blanket around herself, and curled up on the floor
to sleep. She found the floor a highly uncomfortable bed, but, after much
twisting and turning, finally fell into a shallow sleep.

When
Hampton awoke the next morning, the first sight that greeted his eyes was
Katherine lying asleep on the floor near the door. It took a moment for his
fogged brain to sort out the reason for her peculiar behavior, and then he
grimaced. The little fool. She was the most stubborn chit he had ever met.
Cursing softly, he got out of bed and went to her; the floor was cold as ice
beneath his feet; no doubt she would catch her death of pneumonia. Kneeling, he
picked up her limp body, blanket and all, and carried her back to bed. She gave
a little sigh and laid her cheek against his shoulder. After removing her
shoes, he put her in bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Her hands and
feet were freezing, and he crawled back into bed to hold her body close to his
own warmth and rub her hands and feet. When he was satisfied that she was
warmer, he got out of bed, dressed, and left.

Katherine
slept most of the morning, and when she awoke, she was stiff and sore from
sleeping on the hard floor. She felt miserable, irritable, and ashamed. As she
dully sewed away on her frock, her mind teetered between the scalding things
she would like to say to Hampton and a horrible feeling that she could never
again look him in the eye for the shame of knowing he had seen her in such a
debased position. It had been terrible enough that he had raped her, but to so deliberately
degrade her as he had last night! It was as if he was trying to show her how
low his opinion of her was.

Don't
give in, she told herself sternly; don't let him lower your self-esteem. That
is what he wants—to make you feel so low and humiliated and worthless that you
just give up. You have to oppose him. The only problem is how to fight him.

Hampton
did not come back to lunch. Peljo explained that he was busy on deck giving
chase to a ship. Katherine looked at him in amazement: she had been so immersed
in her own troubles, she had forgotten that the outside world existed. Good
heavens, there was still hope of the Navy finding him or of some victim
defeating him and releasing her from his clutches. Hurriedly she bolted down
the food Peljo had brought, grabbed her cloak, and dashed out to the deck.

Dr.
Rackingham was standing at the rail and she joined him. "Oh, Miss
Devereaux, what a pleasure," he said, turning to her. "I believe the
captain is giving chase to that vessel out there."

Katherine
strained her eyes to see the ship he pointed at. "What is it, do you
know?"

"I
have no idea. Even if I could see her closely, I would not be able to say what
kind of ship she is. I am the sort who often calls a ship a boat."

Katherine
smiled. Gracefully the
Susan Harper
swooped down upon the other ship.
One had to admit that Hampton was an excellent sailor—and a seasoned predator.
Soon Katherine was able to make out that it was a stolid merchantman wallowing
heavily through the waves. Her heart sank.

"It's
only a merchantman," she said in disappointment. "We'll catch her
easily. She's far slower than we and well-loaded to boot. I doubt she will put
up any kind of fight."

Katherine
was right. They raced down upon the hapless ship and made a lovely
en point
turn
to bring themselves broadside. Hampton was showing off, she thought, no doubt
trying to throw more fear into the merchant captain with his little display of
skill. The
Susan Harper's
real guns fired a shot across the bow and
called on the other ship to surrender. The other captain refused, putting a
brave face on it, but Hampton flung wide his portholes and displayed his neat
row of false cannon. The merchant ship quickly surrendered. Katherine sighed.
It had been a good show, but she was still imprisoned.

Listlessly
she watched the transfer of food and medical supplies from the captured ship.
Then Hampton's crew began heaving the other's cargo over the side. Finally,
near the end of the short winter afternoon, the captain's prisoners were rowed
across to board the other ship. As Katherine and the doctor watched, Hampton
approached them.

"Good
afternoon, Doctor, ma'am."

"Good
afternoon, Captain," the doctor replied, but Katherine studiously ignored
him.

"Dr.
Rackingham, I have too little space and food to accommodate more prisoners.
Therefore, I am putting them aboard that ship. No doubt they will be back in
the States in a couple of days. You, of course, are free to go with them,
although I am afraid I must keep your medical kit."

"My
medicine! But what if an emergency should arise? I would have no
supplies."

"I'm
sorry. I hope that won't happen. However, as you must realize, perhaps the one
thing my country is most sorely in need of is medicine. I am afraid that I must
seize every opportunity to get medical supplies. You are certainly most welcome
to stay, if a trip to London appeals to you. I can always use a doctor."

"What
about Miss Devereaux here? Is she free to go also?"

"Miss
Devereaux?" His eyes flicked over her coldly, as if she were a horse or
piece of furniture he was judging. "No, Miss Devereaux remains here."

"But,
Captain, consider; you can't go about forcing well-bred ladies to—"

"Well-bred?"
Hampton repeated, his face amused. "I would hardly apply that term to
her."

"Really,
Captain!" Rackingham gasped.

Katherine
merely shot him a venomous look.

"Please,
Doctor, this girl is staying right here. She is, shall we say, a prize of war,
my possession, and I intend to keep her as long as she amuses me. Let's hear no
more about it."

The
doctor simply stared at him aghast. Katherine glared, longing to slash her
fingernails down his insolent grinning face.

"Then
I must remain here, too," the doctor said finally. "I cannot abandon
Miss Devereaux in her distress."

"A
very noble sentiment," the Rebel murmured.

"I
am quite capable of taking care of myself, Doctor!" Katherine flared.

Hampton
chuckled at the other man's dismay. "I am sure you are, my pet."
Lazily he encircled her arm with his thumb and middle finger and lightly ran
the circle down her arm to her wrist, then slowly back up. A shock seemed to
run up her arm and she jerked it away, glared at both men, and stormed back to
her cabin. Hampton's eyes followed her retreating figure. Then he straightened
and looked at the older man. "Well, then, have you decided to stay?"

"If
you insist on imprisoning that girl, yes."

"Excellent!
You are most welcome. However, a word of advice: she is right, you know. She
doesn't need a champion; she fights quite well for herself. I don't think she
will particularly welcome any interference from you on her behalf. And I can
guarantee that I will not welcome it at all. Now, if you will excuse me."
He nodded and turned on his heel, leaving the doctor staring after him
dumbfounded.

After
the
Susan Harper
had pulled away from the other ship and Hampton had
satisfied himself that everything was in proper order, he retired to his cabin
to freshen up before dinner. Katherine, from his entrance through to the end of
the meal, maintained a deathly silence. Hampton, after a few attempts at
speech, gave up the effort and said nothing more until he had finished his meal
and made his log entry for the day.

Then
he turned to her and said, "Well, my dear, are we to have another battle
royal tonight?"

"No,"
Katherine said coldly. "My revulsion for you obviously matters not at all
to you. You are much stronger than I, and I have no hope of anything but being
vanquished every time. No one is hurt but me. Therefore, I no longer plan to
resist you."

"Good
girl," he said, buoyed by his victory. "You are beginning to show
some sense." He paused. "Katherine, forgive me for mistreating you
last night. I have a damnable temper. But it's easily pacified; if you had but
turned your charm on me a little, you could have easily cooled my wrath."

"Oh,
Cap'n Hampton, you are such a mahvelous, big, strong man—please don't hurt
little ole me," Katherine mocked, simpering. "I am not the sort to
wheedle and cajole and debase myself to such as you in order to make you act
like a human being."

"You
learned your history, ma'am, but I think you must have failed your lessons in
femininity," he said smoothly.

"Oh,
is it unfeminine to try to preserve my honor from a madman?" she asked
innocently.

"Damn
it, woman, you are mine, and you will obey me. I am a man, and a man rules a
woman. I rule you."

"No
man rules me, unless I give him permission."

"Indeed?
Did you give me permission to use you as I did last night?"

"You
filthy monster!"

"Apparently
the men of your acquaintance have been mice who never stood up to you. But I am
a different sort. You will do as I tell you."

"Yes,"
Katherine hissed furiously, her eyes narrow with anger. She reminded him of a
jungle cat, and some primitive instinct surged in him, a desire to tame her,
conquer her so completely that she would ask to submit to him. "Yes, I
will do as you tell me. Whatever you say, I will do, because you can force me
to do it. Physically, I am your slave, as you well know. But mentally I shall
never give in to you. I won't fight you, but I will not respond to you. I will
never be yielding, never soft, never passionate. You'll find me a cold and
passive bed partner."