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André growled with fury. “You let her go. You will never live down the wrath of her parents or family, if you harm so much as a hair on her head. Let her go. You can have me.”

“No one is going to be any wiser. You are both going to be dead when we are through with you. There are places in these woods, where we can bury you and no one will ever find you.”

Glaring at André, he spat, “We’ll take our time with you, since you shot James. But first we’ll have fun with the girl.”

The man he’d addressed as James groaned. “You go ahead. I have to staunch the wound in my leg first. But I’m looking forward to my turn at her.” With an evil grin, he waved in Stormy’s direction. “Just let me bind the wound, then I’ll point my pistol at her head. Don’t you think that will be smarter than holding it on him.” They both giggled.

Never relinquishing his hold on Stormy, the man slipped from his horse and dragged her toward a mossy spot beneath a tree. “No need to be uncomfortable, while you spread those pretty legs for me,” he muttered.

Staring daggers at him, she struggled against his grip.

“I wouldn’t do that, little girl,” he cooed and then backhanded her across the mouth.

André watched helplessly. Would he dare to crowd them with his mount? Would the dolt holding the pistol to her head fire? Desperation gave him an idea.

“How much did Snowden promise you as your share, if you brought me in?”

“Huh?” Both men stopped in their tracks and stared at him in bewilderment.

André took heart. Leaning forward on his horse, he sneered, “Ah, I see. He expects you to do his dirty work for minimal pay, while he plays at being the country squire. I give you each a purse of gold, if you let her go. No one needs to know.”

A shot shattered the night stillness and the man holding the gun to Stormy’s head looked aghast at what had once been his hand.

“Step back from my daughter or we will shoot you full of holes.”

STORMY HEIDE KATROS

113

Trevor, Thomas and Tommy stepped forward, all three armed to the teeth. Trevor’s gun still smoked from having been shot, but the other two men each brandished two pistols.

The thugs knew they were beaten. They didn’t even bother to whine or beg to be let go.

Thomas threw the man with the mangled hand a handkerchief so he could bind the wound.

Nodding toward his son, he asked him to truss the men with the heavy rope they brought.

Together they slung them over the horses’ backs like two sacks of potatoes.

For Trevor the men had ceased to exist, when he saw his daughter collapse in a heap of tears against André’s chest. Striding toward them, he skewered him with an angry glare. “How could you let this happen?” he bit out through clenched teeth. “If Tommy hadn’t been hunting tonight, we might not have known or been in time. In fact, we didn’t expect you’d bring Stormy back.”

No one noticed the color creeping along Tommy’s neck. He silently justified his lie with self-righteous praise for his quick wit to figure out that the men whispering in the night were Snowden’s men, and that they’d be looking for André.

André’s heart was beating so hard and loud he barely heard what Trevor was saying.

Stormy was safe and that was all that mattered.

“Don’t fault him, Papa. I couldn’t let him go. I ….” She turned her face to her father, and saw the horror in his eyes. “What? What is it?”

“Oh, my God, you’ve both been hurt.” He snatched her off the ground and out of André’s embrace. “We have to get you to a doctor. Do you think you can ride?”

Stormy dug in her heels. “Papa, get hold of yourself. I didn’t get hurt. André was shot in the arm. I guess some of his blood oozed on me. I thought for a moment that he’d been shot in the face, but thank God, the fool couldn’t shoot any better than he did.”

Trevor drew himself up to his full height. “Either way, you are coming with me.” Lips compressed in anger, he marched his daughter over to her mount and helped her into the saddle.

Not once did he spare another glance at André.

They rode in silence back to Emerald Hills. Once the horses were stabled and Stormy had gone up to her room, Trevor grabbed André by the arm and speared him with a bitter look.

Knowing that the conversation would be a private matter between his brother and friend, Thomas urged Tommy to help him lock the two thugs into a cellar room.

Angrily, Trevor charged into his accusation. “Captain Simon had orders to take you to Liverpool, since that is the nearest port away from Bristol. He also had orders to continue from there with Stormy. Annemarie and I would wait for the next ship of the line to come and pick us up. So what happened?”

André sighed. The past week of his life had been sheer hell, starting with his capture by Snowden. No, it started with his escorting Stormy to Bellingshire. That is when he found out how utterly she muddled his senses. After that everything snowballed into an avalanche of events. He’d figured that Trevor wanted Stormy to sail homeward, and it had been decent of him to consider André’s safety as well. But how in bloody hell could he stand there and blame him for Stormy’s decision?

André ran a tired hand through his tousled hair. “Mr. Mowbray I owe you my life, not once, but twice in the span of a week. But I will not stand here and be dressed down like some lowly farmhand. I had nothing to do with your daughter’s decision to follow me. I had left the Mystic in search of a livery stable, when I heard a commotion behind me. Apparently, Stormy had run afoul with a merchant. She ran headlong into the man and he took offense. Seeing her dressed as she was, he thought her an urchin. He slapped her.”

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He laughed harshly, the sound of it relating the vexation he endured. “I had barely time to rush back to save her from further abuse. Luckily, I had hired a hack to take me to the livery, so I had some place to secure her.”

Trevor chuckled. “I’m sorry, André. I guess I’ll never change Stormy. She is impetuous, but her heart is in the right place. I’ve often told Annemarie that I pity the man who will eventually marry the minx.” Feeling suddenly much relieved, he clapped Andre’s back in male fashion and urged him to come inside.

André had the grace to flush with embarrassment, but was saved from further discomfiture by the dimness of the stables.

Thomas greeted them in the foyer and ushered them to his study. “I think this calls for a stiff drink, gentlemen. Hardly in celebration, mind you, but more in thanks that we managed to outsmart Snowden tonight. I doubt it will take him long to figure that two of his men are missing. Under normal circumstances, we would take the two men in to the sheriff, but since they are his hired brutes, we’ll have to keep them locked up until we can turn them over to the authorities.

“Of course, they might come in handy as witnesses against Snowden. Either way, we have to conclude this issue with your estate, André. Until Snowden is brought to justice, we won’t be able to breathe easy. So, let’s chart a plan to put the problem behind us once and for all.”

At a knock on the door, he bade the person to enter. A maid walked in with a basin of water and strips of linen. She curtsied, then asked shyly, if she should stay and dress Mr.

Despard’s wound.

“No, Marie, I’ll see to it myself. You go about your duties.”

STORMY HEIDE KATROS

115

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Annemarie rushed into her daughter’s room with arms open in welcome. “Stormy! I was just told that you had returned to Emerald Hills. Your father and I expected you well on your way back to Charlestown.”

Stormy gulped a big breath of air, trying hard to keep her composure. But seeing the concern in her mother’s eyes, she could not hold her misery back any longer. She flew into that welcoming embrace, needing to be hugged. Sobbing, she buried her face against Annemarie’s shoulder.

“Mamma, I couldn’t let him go. I love him.”

Annemarie bit her lip. She could tell by the sound of Stormy’s voice that not all was well. “Does he love you back?”

Hiccupping, Stormy raised her eyes to her mother’s. “I … I am not sure. He never said the words, but ….”

“But?”

“He kissed me as if he meant it, when he told me to stay put, while he scouted ahead.”

She dipped her head. “I promised, but I crossed my fingers behind my back, when I did. He may never trust me again, and he didn’t even look my way when we dismounted a few minutes ago.”

Annemarie rolled her eyes above her daughter’s head and did her darndest best not to chuckle. The apple did indeed not fall too far from the tree. And then her heart stopped in dread. Would Stormy have…? Could she have…? No, the thought would be too much to bear, but maybe it was time to come clean.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. I already asked to have water brought up. You smell like horse.” She wrinkled her nose to emphasize her comment. “While you wash, I will keep you company for a bit. It’s time I tell you something I have never told a living soul.” She shooed her off with a wave of her hands.

Stormy disrobed and jumped into the bubbly bathwater in record time. “I am ready, Mamma.”

Annemarie entered the chamber and locked the doors. “I want you to promise never to let on to your father what I am about to tell you. And no fingers crossing behind your back.”

Stormy held both hands up. “Promise.”

“You see, I have learned through the years that some men are reluctant to admit their love for various reasons. Some think it’s because their background isn’t good enough to match up with yours, and some feel they have to make their fortunes, before they dare to fall in love.

“Your father was one of the latter. He went to sea, since he had no chance of inheriting even a clod of Emerald Hills land. That was all right by him, because that is the way things are done here in England. But he was proud and wanted to prove that he could get rich on his own.

“To make a long story short. He denied his love for me until the Enchantress shipwrecked. As the hurricane hit us full force, he saved my life by tying me to a wall, and just before he made his way to the helm, he kissed me hard and said “I love you.”

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For a moment Annemarie felt tempted to tell her daughter that she’d been conceived high up in the rigging of the Enchantress scant minutes before the hurricane hit. Trevor had sought refuge way up in the tangle of masts and sails, when Annemarie spied him. She’d known she loved him, though when she climbed the ratlines to be with him, she had not consciously thought about seducing him. It had been daring, dangerous, and death defying, but it had been the most fantastic lovemaking of her life, and she would forever keep in her heart that it produced their wild child Stormy.

Stormy waited patiently for her mother to continue. She noticed the soft glow in her eyes and knew she was lost to memory. But the water was cooling rapidly, so she splashed a little over her shoulder, glad when the sound brought her mother back to the present.

Annemarie cleared her throat and smiled. “I think André is one of the first types, but he is also obsessed with bringing that crooked sheriff to justice. He also knows it could cost him his life, so he is afraid to commit.” She patted Stormy’s hand that had stilled on the edge of the tub.

“Give him time, he’ll come around.”

Annemarie rose from her chair. “Now, get yourself cleaned up. I ordered a tray brought to your room. By tomorrow you’ll feel better about answering questions as to why you came back.” She closed the door quietly behind her to give her daughter privacy to wash.

Stormy rubbed lilac soap on a linen cloth and started by washing her face. Ah, nothing had felt this good for days. Closing her eyes, she slid the cloth slowly down her chest and around her breasts and moaned her pleasure.

She was so engrossed in her task that she did not hear the door to the hallway open.

André stood dumbstruck by the breathtaking sight before him. In the glow of candlelight, her body slick with soapy bubbles, she resembled a water nymph. He quietly closed the door behind him and stood barely breathing, watching in wonderment.

The artlessness of his Stormy never failed to amaze him anew. His heart skipped a beat, when he realized that he had called her his. But she was his. He had been the one to claim her virginity and he would never tolerate any other man to have her.

He was hard, he pulsed with need, and without thinking he stepped forward and slipped to his knees.

Her nostrils flared, when she caught his scent. There was no other male that smelled quite the same, despite the overlaying odor of horse, sweat and blood. Her eyes snapped open and her breath caught, when she saw the longing in his.

“You are a tempting water nymph, Stormy. I would like to ravish you right there in that tub.” His voice sounded raspy, thick with desire.

Chuckling softly, she gazed at his lean, bare torso through heavy lidded eyes. God, he looked magnificent. For some reason he reminded her of a buccaneer with that bandage wrapped around his upper arm to staunch the pistol wound he sustained earlier that evening. She swallowed hard, and let her gaze wander lower, admiring all that rippling muscle with a scattering of well placed curls across his pecs. And lower yet where the fine hair tapered to an enticing line that arrowed straight into the waistband of his riding breeches. For a second she felt inclined to throw propriety to the wind and give in to the heat pooling in her abdomen. But then logic prevailed.

She leaned over the rim, subconsciously offering her bare breasts for his taking as she offered her lips for a kiss. “You know we can’t.” Her lids drooped. The look she shot him went straight to his groin and threatened to make him lose control. “Papa would have your head, if he knew you were in here. But kiss me just once, so I can take the taste of you to bed with me.”

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