The Rogue’s Prize (51 page)

avenge Celeste’s mistreatment, certain

he would find finality in Burton’s

confession.

“I solicited an inn,” Burton

continued, “and a private room where I

took her again and again, hoping to

vanquish the ache in my throbbing cock.

Days later, after having my fill, I left her.

Thankfully, I never saw the sobbing

mass of fluff again.”

“How could you? You’re not

human,” Constance screeched, then

winced as Frink squeezed her back

against his chest, choking off her breath.

Burton frowned and approached

Constance, intent on doing her foul. She

squirmed beneath Frink’s grasp and

brought her heel down upon his instep.

Caught

off-guard,

Frink

toppled

backward. Burton pulled a pistol from

his back and aimed.

“Don’t move!” Burton yelled. “If I

cannot have you, no one can.”

Constance froze. Burton’s trigger

finger flinched. Percy wrenched free of

one of Frink’s henchman and advanced,

prepared to cut down Burton before he

fired the gun. But he didn’t make it in

time. Burton pulled the trigger, a sinister

smile stretching his lips. Guffald moved

with lightning speed.

“Constance!” Percy shouted.

The gunshot split the air and a

plume of sulphuric smoke filled the

cabin. Constance and Guffald collapsed

together to the floor. Percy moved

straight for Burton, murderous thoughts

filling every pore. He knocked the gun

out of Burton’s hand and then, in

despair, snapped the lord’s neck. Out of

the corner of his eye, he caught Frink

slipping out of the room. Blinded by

rage he took chase, catching up with

Frink

on

the
Stockton
’s foredeck,

knowing they would never be safe until

he made sure the captain could never

hurt them again.

“Figure on ending what you started,

boy?” Frink goaded, whirling around to

face him.

Percy grinned. “Yes. I’m going to

enjoy this.”

“Ye’ve tried to kill me once and

failed.”

“That was then,” he admitted with a

flourish of his sword. Clanging steel

snipped the air followed by the blunt

force of metal stabbing wood and

shattering glass as the two of them

battled each other across the deck. “This

is now.”

“A braggart, eh?”

“No,” Percy admitted. “A realist.”

“Perhaps you’d like to know why I

know so much about your sister,” Frink

spat.

He caught Percy off guard, knocked

him off his feet and forced him down

upon the focsle. While Percy struggled

to regain his balance, Frink’s blade

sliced his shoulder and, sensing his

inability to defend himself, the captain

threw all his weight into the wound.

“He passed her off to us — one by

one,” he admitted.

Mind reeling, sickened by thoughts

of Celeste’s obvious torture, Percy

could not bear to hear any more.

“You served on the same ship as

the men who defiled her. You’re a fool,

Sexton! Just as much a fool as that whore

of a sister you’ve sought to avenge.”

Percy kicked Frink’s feet upward,

knocking him off balance. Then, anger

providing him newfound strength, he

thrust his sword between Frink’s ribs.

Frink gasped and lifted his blade weakly

to fend off another blow. Prepared to

block Frink’s thrust, Percy spun and then

gutted Frink with an upward lance.

“Vengeance is mine.”

Frink’s unseeing eyes bulged and

he slumped to the deck. Percy kicked the

man to be certain he was dead, and then

hurried down the steps to the captain’s

cabin. Burton’s body lay unmoving in the

middle of the floor. One of Frink’s men,

the one who’d held him in check during

Burton’s rant, slunk against the wall of

the cabin, his eyes peering blankly into

space.

Constance knelt against the western

side of the room, her ear pressed against

Guffald’s heart. Percy moved forward

slowly and scanned the length of

Guffald’s body. The captain had been

shot in the thigh, a horrible wound he’d

seen countless times that, without a

doctor’s urgent care, meant certain

amputation.

For

a

moment,

he

entertained the idea of letting the

scoundrel die, but he caught sight of a

tourniquet wrapped around his leg. The

fabric was the color of his wife’s gown.

Guffald spoke. “Forgive me.” He

gulped. “Simon knows.”

“Don’t

speak,

Captain.

No

explanations are needed,” Constance

said.

Guffald gasped. “I didn’t know … I

would never have — ”

“Oh, Henry!” Constance cried,

smoothing

the

now

unconscious

captain’s blond hair away from his face.

Percy did not miss the fact that she’d

used Guffald’s given name. Sobbing, she

pulled the man close and held his head

to her chest. Percy watched silently,

jealousy coursing through his veins.

He was too late. He’d failed to win

his wife when he had the chance. She

hated him. Believed him incapable of

telling the truth.

Constance looked up at him then,

and froze. Her eyes glistened with

unshed tears. “He jumped in front of me.

He saved my life,” she cried.

Stunned, Percy felt a mix of disgust

for himself and compassion for his old

friend. Though Guffald had betrayed

him, he’d put his life on the line to

protect his wife and child. He owed the

man everything. Everything!

“What will become of him?” she

asked, holding her hand out to him.

Percy moved forward to touch her hand,

noting the blood stained creases in her

knuckles. “Henry’s blood, not mine,” she

assured.

He glanced quizzically into her

green eyes. “Your quick thinking has

surely saved his life, my gel,” he said,

with a nod to the tourniquet.

Constance gazed up at him with

red-rimmed eyes. His heart sank. He

knew she would never forgive his lies.

How could he blame her? It was too

much to ask.

“What am I to do, Your Grace?”

she asked. “I’m in love.”

His heart plummeted into his

abdomen. “Listen to your heart,” he said.

“I’m in love with
two
men.”

Two? Thinking she spoke of

Guffald, his gaze fell to the man at their

feet. He hated Henry all the more.

“Whatever shall you do?” he inquired,

certain he would rather see her happy

than forced to live a life she despised.

“Come closer, Your Grace,” she

said.

He took a knee. She raised her hand

to gently rub the stubble on his face.

With one touch she had the power to

disarm him. He closed his eyes, putting

her touch to memory. He inhaled her

scent — roses and a hint of despair. The

moment cut him as deeply as Frink’s

intended blade.

“I shall love them both,” she

admitted.

“Both?” Had the woman gone daft?

Perhaps the situation in the cabin had

sent her over the edge. Did she propose

to entertain Guffald and him, together?

By all that was holy, what was she

suggesting? She was a married woman.

He’d be damned if he was going to share

her — with anyone. He’d spent too much

time sharing her with a pirate as it was.

The look on his face must have put

sense into her. “Silly man!” she said.

“What shall I call you? Thomas or

Percy?”

Understanding dawned. What she

proposed was scandalous — enticing.

“Percy,” he said, “but only in public.”

“And what shall I call you in

private?”

“Thomas.” He winked. “But only

when we make love.”

“Are you suggesting that I love a

duke by day and a rogue by night?” She

giggled.

“I only ask that you love two men

who share one heart.”

Her eyes searched his. “And what

is in your heart?” she asked.

He reached for her and drew her

close. “I love you, Constance. Both of us

are most definitively yours, my gel.”

She put his hand over her slightly

swelling stomach. “His as well?”

“His too.”

Consumed with an urge to kiss his

beautiful wife, Percy’s lips sought

Constance’s most urgently. It no longer

mattered where they had been, where

they were or what they’d been through.

He no longer needed vengeance as a

means to live. His heart now belonged to

his wife, his child. And offering

Constance a rogue by night for the rest of

his life was bound to be his greatest

pleasure.

ABOUT THE

AUTHOR

Katherine Bone has been passionate

about all things historical since she was

an Army brat traveling all over the

world. Initially, she dreamed of being an

artist, but when she met and fell in love

with Prince Charming, her own dashing

Lieutenant vowing duty, honor, and

country, she found herself saying “I do.”

Not long afterward, she was whisked

away

to

Army

bases,

castles,

battlegrounds and cathedrals, where

tales of swashbuckling characters and

unforgettable adventure filled the lonely

gaps when the Army called Charming

away. No longer nomadic, Katherine set

down roots in the south where she and

Charming have raised four children and

live with their fluffy Maine Coon.

Katherine Bone can be found at her

website:
www.katherinebone.com
or on Twitter at:
@katherinelbone
.

In the mood for more Crimson

Romance?

Check out
Once a Duchess

by Elizabeth Boyce

at
CrimsonRomance.com
.

• TITLE PAGE
  
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
  
• DEDICATION
  
• CONTENTS
  
• ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  
• CHAPTER ONE
  
• CHAPTER TWO
  
• CHAPTER THREE
  
• CHAPTER FOUR
  
• CHAPTER FIVE
  
• CHAPTER SIX
  
• CHAPTER SEVEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHT
  
• CHAPTER NINE
  
• CHAPTER TEN
  
• CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
• CHAPTER TWELVE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
• CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
• ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  
• ALSO AVAILABLE