His to Hold (Regency Scoundrels Book 1) (4 page)

“Are you named after the Archangel Raphael?” Her voice was soft, and without a hint of malice. Swallowing thickly, he sighed. She turned her head to stare inquiringly up at him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay annoyed at her for very long.

“You could say that,” he murmured, smiling lazily.

On the High Seas he was known as Captain Morgan—a moniker he used as a special homage to his father, Morgan St. Martin. Usually, his men called him Captain Morgan. It was only Ethan that took the liberty of calling him Rafe, and to Ethan it was an inside joke.

“Oh, really. How astonishing. I would have called you Bluebeard.”

Her well-placed jibe hit a raw nerve, and he nearly grabbed a hold of her. But if he did, he’d soon have his hands all over her, bringing her to the edge of ecstasy. No, she deserved much more than that. He would make sure that he tortured her first, before she reached that highest of peaks. And, he’d enjoy every single moment of it.

They walked to the cabin in an uneasy silence. He glanced down at her a few times, and decided that her implacable expression was really too much to bear. Her face was screwed up so tightly that he feared it might just crack.

“You will find that whatever you need has been deposited into your cabin.”

“You are too kind,” she snapped. Her words were quick, and stung him to his very core.

“I know. Because if I wasn’t such a generous soul, I’d make you stay in my cabin and in my bed.” He dazzled her with his best attempt at a wolfish smile.

That shut her up. She clamped her mouth closed, and thinned her lips into an unreadable line. Seeking to destroy his ego even further, she laughed carelessly. The sultriness of it nearly brought him to his knees. He was becoming hard just hearing it. He needed to get away from her, before he ruined his master plan. She was just about to say something when he none too politely slammed the door in her face.

What she didn’t know, was that Captain Treacher had spilled everything about the ship. Treacher had even told him about the secret doorway that linked the captain’s cabin to Elizabeth’s cabin.

Treacher had sworn that he had never used it while Elizabeth was aboard, but the man was married, and he and his wife preferred to habitat separate sleeping areas. Though, as Treacher had described it, a man and a wife, did have to have nighttime dalliances every so often.

Mallory would take full advantage of the knowledge at his disposal. When the time came he would pay Elizabeth a nighttime visit, and he would show her that he was definitely the man of her dreams.

Elizabeth collapsed wearily onto the small writing chair that sat in front of her rosewood desk. The cabin lacked no extravagance. Everything was as she had it in any of her other private abodes, except on a much smaller scale. She slowly unbuttoned her rose coloured pelisse, and tossed it on the bed. Sighing, she reached for her reticule, which lay on her desk. Opening it, she produced her most treasured possession.

She stared wistfully down at the miniature portrait that she held in her hands. She glanced at the image of herself at seven years of age, and then riveted her eyes on her mother’s heart-shaped face.

“Oh, how I need your sage advice,” she murmured, brushing her fingertip tenderly across the face of her mother. Sighing heavily once again, she placed the portrait on her small bedside table.

Slowly, she stood up, and arched her back. Her eyelids were drooping, and she knew that she would collapse soon, if she did not take care. She began singing a favourite tune of hers, called
The Valiant Lady
. Her music master had been delighted and impressed by the depth of her talent. If she’d had the energy, she would have pulled out her guitar, or moved to sit at her custom fitted pianoforte that sat across from her bed.

The ship lurched beneath her again, causing her to fall against the bedpost. She could feel the familiar signs of nausea overtaking her, as it always did at the beginning of a sea voyage. She broke off her song in the middle of a verse, and sank down onto the oak chest at the end of the bed. Breathing deeply, she tried to will away the sickness that boiled in her stomach.

Her hands were clammy, and her forehead raged with heat. Shaking her head, she stood up again on wobbly knees. She had never been a sea-faring creature. She far preferred the solid ground beneath her feet than the rocking of a ship, even if that ship happened to belong to her.

Grimacing, she placed her hand over her stomach, and searched for a bucket. When her search turned out to be in vain, she drew in a shuddering breath, and hobbled toward the door.

Plucking up her almost shattered stamina, she rapped soundly on the door to gain someone’s attention. In less than two minutes, it was unlocked and wrenched open. She stared at Rafe, and nearly smiled at the ludicrous expression he wore. But presently, she was unable to smile for fear of losing what little she’d last eaten.

“If you know what is good for you, you will move and allow me up to the deck.” She didn’t know how she managed to speak without retching all over him.

He must have taken in her sickly pale face, for he stood aside, and then pursued her as she raced up to the deck. She made her way past a few sailors to the rail. What happened next, was not at all dignified or lady like.

She had never been able to handle rough waters. During the ocean crossing, she normally stayed holed up in her cabin while in the throes of misery. She wasn’t always seasick, but she did normally have terrible headaches that made her head feel as if it was about to explode. She chanced a glance out of the corner of her eye, and watched as Rafe came up behind her.

Stiffening with apprehension, she was not ready for the soothing cool touch that he pressed to the nape of her neck. He handed her a teacup filled with water. She drank it down thirstily, and thankfully accepted the handkerchief that he offered her.

“Breathe in the fresh salty air,” he murmured. “Fresh air is the only cure for what ails you, Elizabeth.”

She looked up, at the white masts waving in the strong wind.

“You needn’t worry. If fair winds are willing, we shall be in British waters in no time at all.”

Elizabeth began to relax, and stared up at the setting sun. Multiple colours swirled on the horizon, and the big fluffy clouds were dancing merrily in the bright blue sky. The strong waves rocked against
The Valiant
.

“Your father has a fine ship in
The Valiant
,” Rafe whispered.

Unconsciously, she leaned against him.

“You are mistaken, sir. I have a fine ship in
The Valiant
. In fact, most of my father’s ships belongs to me. The ships were a gift given to me on my sixteenth birthday.”

“I daresay that is a grand gift.”

“Aye. But my father thought it to be a brilliant jest. You may have already surmised that I do not care for traveling the High Seas. Papa delights in giving such gifts for others, because their misery becomes his happiness.”

She looked to see if he would have mockery dancing in his blue orbs, but to her complete bafflement, he was staring at her solemnly, and waiting for her to elaborate. When she remained silent, he took his turn to speak.

“My own dear sister does not care for life on the water. But then she fancies horse racing, so it is probably just as well. The ponies are her life,” he laughed. “The only problem is, she gives us all fits by the way she rides on her own horses, with such a devil may care attitude. She rides with such abandon, as if she is a wild woman. She tells me I may have sea in my blood, but she has racing in hers,” he laughed. She watched him closely. He might be a great many things, but he did adore his sisters, and they were quite lucky to have such a devoted brother. He inhaled a deep lungful of air. “Well go on, Elizabeth, breathe in a deep breath of air, let it refresh you…let it heal you.”

She did as he wanted her to, and actually smiled, as some of her nausea dissipated. He was right. She did feel a bit better. “Sometimes,” he said, “life as a sailor can be treacherous and tedious. If the wind does not blow in your favour, all is lost, so I suppose I share that devilishly wild streak with my dear Gemma.”

She smiled weakly, and found that she was beginning to forget about her churning stomach. He was distracting her on purpose to be sure, but she did not mind one bit. Something made her lift her eyes skyward, toward the ship’s flag. Gasping, she pointed horror stricken at the abominable black-and-white flag that blew in the wind.

“Take that down at once!” she ordered. “What, what do you mean by that? Don’t you know that being a swashbuckling pirate has fallen out of fashion, sir?” Strangely enough, she gradually returned to her normal self. His eyes danced at her, but he remained unusually silent. “That is forbidden, that is…terrible!” Again she gave him the stare that made most men relent, but he was not swayed in the slightest.

“That flag, my dear, is my own, and no, I wasn’t aware that piracy had gone out of fashion. Of course, I fancy myself more of a buccaneer, or if you like, up until a few years ago, you could have called me a privateer, or a corsair. I sailed for Great Britain and attacked as many bloody enemy ships as I could.

“My crews did quite a good job at unnerving the enemy by stealing their cargo, and driving fear into their hearts. After the battle of Trafalgar, my superiors decided that my skills at sea would be better served if I sailed in grey waters, if you will. They wanted me to cause as much chaos for the enemy as I possibly could, while not having the same limitations that Royal Navy Ships had.

“All in all, I rather think I was quite proficient at the task, as my exploits made my superiors quite happy. I was even commended by the Prince Regent. I fly that flag now to strike fear into the hearts of those who would do me harm. I made quite a few enemies during the Napoleonic Wars,” he sighed heavily. “Enemies and friends, and from both of those groups I lost quite a bit as well.”

“If the Royal Navy or American Navy caught us with that blasphemous contraption flying in the wind, you would all be hanged.”

“They’d have to catch me first, and while the Americans might have blood in their eyes when it comes to me, as I rather did cause them a fair bit of mischief during the Wars, the British wouldn’t dare hang me. I have some pull there even now. And besides, we are nearly out of American waters. Not only that, but they’d be hard pressed to go up against my ships.” He waved his hand carelessly to the horizon. At his gesture, she finally noticed the ships that sailed around them. She had been too preoccupied with thoughts of her sour stomach to pay much heed to anything else.

“God Almighty,” she gasped, pressing her hand to her cheek.

Each and every one of the ships was fully outfitted. Gun cannons lined every inch of the ship, and made them ever ready for a rip-roaring sea battle. Most of them had either belonged to the British, American, French or Spanish, at one point in time.

“You stole not only my ship but those as well!” She couldn’t believe her own eyes. He was a thief of the foulest sort.

“Actually, I didn’t. All of those ships were purchased with my own coin. But they are my ships now, and not suitable for resale, as I’ve made a few tweaks to them that are quite unorthodox. As for my pirating ways, I usually do my business in the Mediterranean, and I do my bloody best to ruffle those who are in the slave trading business there,” he chuckled dryly.

For the first time, she noticed that he had former slaves on his ship. She was about to ask him the question on the tip of her tongue, when he answered for her. “All of the men on my ship are free. Seamus was a bond slave, working far past the agreed upon time. I liberated him from that miserable existence, and he’s proved invaluable since then.”

What was wrong with her? His tales were romancing her, making her view him as a dashing hero…and in a way, he was a hero. He’d been a hero to all of the men on his ship that he had freed. He might be a hero like the sort she would find in a book, but he was also quite dangerous. Dangerous to others…and more importantly, dangerous to her.

She shouldn’t be attracted to such a dangerous man, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. The only way she was going to survive him, was to flee from him, as soon as possible.

“I highly doubt that you paid for those ships. You are not an honourable man. You did, after all, steal my own vessel.”

“You are quite lucky, miss, that I am accustomed to dealing with mercurial women. You are very fortunate, that I am used to humouring a women’s temperament, and realizing that there are is a great chasm between us when it comes to physical strength, or I would have taken you into my arms and shaken the life out of you when you insulted my honour. You are also quite lucky that I adhere to the code of Chivalry. I might be a great many things, and you can call me any name you might wish to conjure to your tongue, but don’t ever, ever, insult my honour again, do you understand?” She nodded her head. “As for stealing this ship, I didn’t so much as steal it, as I commandeered it.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?” Glaring at him, she roughly shoved the teacup back into his hands. “Are you commandeering me?” Fury soon overtook the churning in her stomach.

“No, I’m kidnapping you. Miss Elizabeth you must start listening to me. I am a plainly spoken man, I do not wish for you to read my mind. I am stealing you away. I make no bones about it. So, please, do get used to it.”

“For what purpose? If you want a ransom, then I’ll obtain it for you when we reach England. I’m sure that you’d be more than willing to take me to the banks in London.”

“Actually, I haven’t taken you captive for the ransom, though I daresay, the reward would benefit me greatly. However, it wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

“I would make you a rich man, and with riches, comes power.”

“And yet, I lust over neither. I have power as you see,” he calmly said gesturing to his ships, “Besides, I lust over something more elusive. I yearn for revenge and through my revenge, I shall have my happiness,” he said, pinning her with those intense blue eyes of his. “What I have in mind, will bring me happiness, both monetary, and emotionally.”

“And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to force you to marry me.”

She laughed at first, believing him to be in jest. But her laugh gradually died away when she looked at his deadly serious expression.

“You must be in jest, you can’t be serious!” She stepped back from him, and slammed against the rail.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life. As soon as we reach England, I will obtain a special license, and you shall become my bride.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d sooner marry a fool than marry you.”

“You won’t have a choice in the matter. In fact, I daresay that you’ll be throwing yourself at my feet, and begging me to marry you. I have a rather discombobulating effect on the weaker sex. I make them want me so much. I literally have them begging me to ravish them. It’s a skill I use to my benefit, and some women’s detriment.”

“I, sir, do not beg. Never have, never will!” She folded her arms, and stamped past him.

“Where, pray tell, do you think you are going?”

“Down to my cabin. As long as that meets with your approval?”

“It most certainly does. I think I will accompany you. I’ve suddenly become rather hungry. Ravenous, actually,” he drawled out, in his damnably husky voice.

His devilishly entrancing eyes bored straight down into her being.

“I do not want any food,” she decided, unconsciously licking her lips.

“Oh, I wasn’t referring to food,” he said, grazing her body with his passion filled eyes.

Oh, God, how she was sailing in dangerous waters! She had to keep a level head, and more than that, she had to keep her mouth shut, lest it betray her even more!