Читать книгу My Wicked Pirate - Rona Sharon - Страница 13

“Captain McGee, you must tell us the latest news from the forefront,” Colonel Holbrook demanded across the table from Alanis. “How are our boys faring against those Frenchies?”

Alanis sighed with relief. Throughout dinner, Lucas scrutinized her as Lord High Justice while she smoothly charmed his peers and put a strain on his decision to ship her home. But she had nothing more to report on the subject of the latest French fashion.

“Well,” the captain frowned, “our latest triumph was in the Milan Region. General Savoy was determined to have the strong bridgehead near Cassano and crushed Marshal de Vendôme!”

“To our first victory in Milan!” Mr. Greyson saluted and the men tossed back their wine.

“I keep telling you this Savoy fellow is not a bad sort, even if he is French,” Holbrook said.

“Austrian,” Greyson argued. “General Savoy is Austrian.”

Captain McGee shook his bewigged head. “He’s half Austrian, half French.”

“His mother was French, Cardinal Mazarin’s niece,” Alanis recalled aloud, “but his father was an Italian prince. The Duke of Savoy in Turin is General Savoy’s first cousin.”

A hush fell around the long table. A woman publicly speaking her mind on politics was a gross faux pas and crossing propriety beyond the pale. Alanis groaned inwardly. If these people learned from talkative servants about the pirate in her bedchamber, a scandal broth would surge all the way to Yorkshire, Dellamore would send half the fleet to collect her, and she would lose all her freedom hereafter. To avoid another slip of the tongue she sampled the dessert cake.

The governor cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve all been invited to my ball tomorrow night. Now, in addition to celebrating the arrival of the accomplished granddaughter of the Duke of Dellamore, we’ll be saluting this victory and many more to come. Please join me in another salute lauding our boys, Marlborough and Savoy, and the valiant troops they command on the Continent. May God bless them and keep them safe!” His salute was accepted heartily.

“What a bloody bullring Milan has become,” Greyson lamented. “When the Vipers were in power, Milan was invincible. The Sforza dukes were fierce warriors, and the Visconti cunning to the last degree. For centuries these united houses put a chill in the hearts of their fellow princes.”

Alanis bit her fork. Always beware of the Viper. What did her pirate have in common with royal Milanese dynasties that had ceased to exist ages ago? She wondered whether Eros and his sister were already gone. If only they stopped blathering, she would be in time to say good-bye…

“If Savoy vanquishes Vendôme in Milan, we just might win this cussed war after all!” the old colonel declared, his scarlet cheeks attesting to the amount of wine he’d put away.

“Jonathan Holbrook, watch your ungoverned tongue!” his wife scolded. “There are ladies present. It is bad enough you subject us to your tasteless discourses. I refuse to put up with the sort of speech I must suffer in the privacy of our home. My dear Mrs. Greyson,” she spoke to the lady at her side, “I insist we leave these warmongers to their port and cigars and take our cake in the next room. I cannot stomach another word on the subject of this horrid war.” Lips pursed, she stood up, forcing the men to their feet and the women to follow suit. “Come along, ladies. We shall leave them to their port and have a better time on our own. Good evening, gentlemen.”

Alanis’s hopes to flee upstairs were dashed, and she had to sit for another hour until Lucas rescued her and they both saw the guests out. They went upstairs in silence. A bundle of nerves, she expected him to open the door and say good night. Yet to her dismay, he followed her inside her apartment. The foyer was dark; a patch of moonlight fell on the carpet. Her eyes flew to the bedchamber door. No bar of light shone underneath. Disappointment lanced her. Eros was gone.

“If you insist on keeping your pirate in this apartment, at least let me put you in another.”

Alanis dropped her silk shawl on the sofa. “He’s not my pirate, Lucas.”

“Are you in love with him, Alis?”

His question numbed her brain. Then, with her best horrified airs she said, “Good Lord! The man is a worthless blackguard, lower than a lowly serf!” And intelligent and interesting and she wished he were here with her instead of Lucas, with whom she was stuck for the rest of her life. “Perhaps we should reconsider our betrothal. We could be making a dreadful mistake.”

“Why? Because I said I’d hang your pirate? I promise I won’t hang him until he heals. But you cannot seriously consider crying off our engagement, Alis. It would break my heart!”

“It would only affect your pride. I’ve yet to see a sign that you possess tender feelings for me. I think you have spent them all on Jasmine.” Hang him when he heals…

“I do care for you, Alis, dearly. We have much in common and a solid friendship. I cannot see why our marriage should not be a success.”

“Well, I can! Perhaps friendship is enough for you, but there is more to a marriage, much more. There should be tender moments and feelings running as deep as one’s soul. There should be longing and excitement. What you describe is as exhilarating as cold porridge!”

Lucas opened his mouth, but she had more to say. “I have always been the docile girl who stayed at home while you went about your business. In your eyes, I’m as pure as snow and loved from afar, but never the…desirable one,” she added uneasily. He’d never even tried to kiss her. In the past, she assumed he was well behaved. Now she knew the real reason: lack of interest. She recalled an old French saying of Madame de Montespan’s: Woman’s greatest ambition is to inspire Love. With Lucas she had clearly failed. On a whim, she said, “Kiss me, Lucas. Kiss me.” If his kiss proved half as ardent as Eros’s, she might reconsider giving them a second chance.

The viscount blanched. Then, hesitantly, his lips touched hers. Shutting her eyes, Alanis concentrated on the feel of his mouth. Nice, she thought, but there was nothing interesting about his kiss, which defied the purpose of the experiment. He was going to be a gentleman about it and it would not do at all. She took an additional bold step and opened her mouth to his.

Lucas tore his mouth away. Alanis froze, feeling self-conscious and gauche. What had she done wrong? He didn’t deem her worthy of an explanation, though. He opened the door and left.

Alanis remained standing alone in the darkness. She considered lighting a lamp but had no desire to encounter her reflection in a mirror. She had seen marble statues with more soul than the reserved ice queen she appeared to be. What was there to love? What was there to kiss? No wonder Lucas was reluctant. There was nothing sensual about her to inflame a man. She wasn’t the spirited Jasmine. She was the cold swan from Yorkshire. Not even worthy of a kiss.

Sobbing silently, she became aware of an odd sensation: She was being watched. Her head came up. A broad-shouldered shape, outlined by moonlight, casually leaned against the window.

“You’re still here!” she exclaimed. She was so glad to see him, it took her a moment to realize Eros must have witnessed her nightmarish scene with Lucas! Did he overhear her saying he was a worthless pirate? Did he see Lucas scorning her kiss?

Eros disengaged from the window and started toward her. Moonbeams poured over his tall, sculpted frame, delineating the fall of his hair. He stopped before her. “Come here.”

Without hesitation she walked into his embrace. His mouth claimed hers, banishing every thought of undesirability from her head, and she was fire again, burning bright and raw. His lips moved hungrily, possessively; his head angled to merge with her mouth. She felt hot and shivery at the same time, intoxicated by his kiss, by the engulfing heat and scent of his seminude body.

Eros’s mouth moved to her ear, breathing, “Ti desidero, Alanis.”

His sultry words filled her head. One didn’t need to be fluent in Italian to understand. He desired her. She rose on her toes and slid her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“You look beautiful standing in my arms in the moonlight, Amore. I should steal you away, and together we’ll explore the magical wonders of the world.”

Unsure what to make of his vague proposal, she whispered, “Where would you take me?”

“The Arabian Sea touches a secret faraway shore where pearls are as copious as the grains of sand.” His voice was deep and tempting. “There is a small town in Morocco called Agadir, where beaches are as white as snow with the most unusual purple sunsets you’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve never seen a purple sunset. To be perfectly honest, I haven’t traveled much.”

“You should. One does not quite experience life until one experiences the world.”

“I want to, more than anything. I’m afraid it is quite beyond my reach, though.”

“Why? You’re not a child. To my best knowledge you’re past the age of twenty-one. There is no reason you shouldn’t realize your dreams, Alanis. Life is too short to be wasted on regrets.”

He had a strong point, but…if it were only that easy. She slid her hands along his muscular bare chest. “Is it true you grew up in the Kasbah of Algiers?”

He tilted his head from side to side. “Not exactly, but in many ways yes. Why? Want to visit the Kasbah?” He grinned challengingly.

She bit her lip. “Even if I had the freedom to travel the world, which I do not, I could never go there. It’s a pirates’ lair and much too dangerous.”

“Dangerous, yes. Fatal, no. That is, if one knows his way around…” He grinned.

Alanis was struck with a sudden, wild craving to go there, to see it with her own eyes. “Do you also know your way around the Sultan’s harem in Constantinople?” She smiled daringly.

“The Turkish Sultan is peculiarly possessive of his wives, but yes, I have stolen a few quick glimpses inside his harem. What else intrigues you, my inquisitive fair lady?”

“Are the taverns of Tortuga as shocking as people say they are? I hear the women there would take their clothes off and dance on a table in the nude for a few pieces of eight.”

Eros burst out laughing. “Where do you hear these stories, Alanis? I wasn’t aware innocent young ladies discussed shocking topics on social occasions.”

“We sometimes discuss you as well, the most shocking topic of all.”

“Me?” He splayed his hand over his heart, feigning bewilderment. “Must I assume it is my black character you and your little friends chew to pieces over tea and scones?”

“Have you been eavesdropping?” Alanis laughed, savoring the feel of his arms around her. “You do enjoy a nasty reputation, Eros. You make delightful gossip material.”

He cocked a jet eyebrow. “Such as?”

“Such as the fortified towns you held for ransom, the ships you plundered, the fortune of pillage you’ve accumulated, the men you killed, the women you…”

His mouth brushed against hers. “I admit there were women, but the last I came to know surpasses them all incontestably. Why do you resign yourself to a life you obviously deem small and insignificant? You’re bright, exceptionally educated, and not lacking in spirit. Why seal your fate so ascetically?”

“My life is neither small nor insignificant.” Nonetheless, his question touched the bleeding wound in her soul. “I’m not like you. I have responsibilities, loved ones I cannot let down.”

“Do those loved ones always live up to your expectations?” He put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. “Bella donna, no man in his right mind would refuse a woman like you. Silverlake is no less man than I am, but his heart already belongs to another. Who is he so anxious to please that he will marry you while he’s in love with another?”

Startled by his perception, Alanis pulled away from him and stared out the window. Palm trees rustled in the breeze; wind chimes tinkled melodiously. She wanted to live on this island, but not when the only reason Lucas wanted to marry her was to please his father. The Earl of Denton would never absolve his son of marrying beneath him.

“You should get some sleep,” Eros spoke beside her. “I’ll stay here. I’ve spent too much time abed already. Rest assured I’ll respect your privacy.”

Oddly, she believed him. And she was exhausted. “I don’t know what happened to Betsy. She was supposed to wait for me here after dinner.”

“I dismissed her,” he admitted sheepishly.

Alanis’s lips curved. “No doubt terrorized the poor girl out of her wits.”

“Harsh accusations, my lady, but I assure you, all I did was come out here.”

“It was enough.” She sent him a small smile. “No matter. I’ll manage. Good night.”

“Good night.” His deep voice followed her as she disappeared behind the bedroom door.

She removed her gown, donned her nightshift, and slipped beneath the covers. Snuggling happily, she buried her face in the pillow and inhaled the musky, masculine scent enveloping her.

Someone knocked. “Come in,” she called.

Eros opened the door. “Don’t worry. I have every intention of keeping my word.” He ambled inside and sat beside her. By candlelight his handsomeness made her heart beat a little faster. She pulled the sheet up to her neck, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“I’ve given the matter some thought and decided I’m up to the challenge.”

Alanis sat up. “What challenge? You mean you wish to take me with you?”

“To the Kasbah, to Tortuga, to any spot that strikes your fancy. No strings attached.”

She was speechless. And thrilled. “Why?”

“Because I’ve grown a fondness for pretty waspish blondes who read Ovidius.” He leaned closer. “As they say in Venice, ‘The time has come to squander gold and silver coins as if they were nuts.’ Come with me. You won’t regret it.”

She sighed dreamily. “Traveling to Venice with an Italian sounds…delightful. After all, Italy is said to be the wonder of all wonders, the land of art and beauty. I would love to go there.”

His eyes turned cold; his veneer hardened. “Italy is the one place I will never take you.”

His distinct aversion to Michelangelo and Da Vinci’s homeland, his homeland, triggered a host of questions in her mind, but she decided not to pry at the moment. “And the war? Shouldn’t you be fighting Frenchmen?”

He smiled. “I think old Louis can spare me for a while. Don’t you?”

Alanis pondered his offer. Sailing away with him for a few months meant casting propriety to the wind. It meant relinquishing Lucas to Jasmine. It meant changing the course of her life—in favor of pursuing her dream. The idea had merit but was hardly the thing to do. However, hadn’t she once said that if the opportunity arose she’d become an explorer of faraway lands? What grand prospects held her here? What such prospects awaited her at home?

“You can trust me. I’ll be leaving at midnight tomorrow. You have a whole day to consider my offer.” He blew out the candle and leaned very close. “Buonanotte, bella donna. Create a beautiful dream with me.” He took her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss that twirled all the way to her toes, then got up and left the room, leaving her half wishing he hadn’t….

Alanis kept her word and took Jasmine shopping. It was a joint venture. Jasmine knew her way around Kingston, and she knew her way around fashion. By noontime Jasmine was outfitted for a whole new wardrobe and Alanis was in love with the town.

As the Silverlake coach entered the inner courtyard of Lucas’s house, Alanis contemplated Eros’s offer for the millionth time that day. She scarcely slept during the night, weighing the pros and cons. She woke up determined to sail with him, but as the day wore on, the more she thought of her grandfather the less she felt inclined to go. The coach stopped. Two footmen hurried forth to carry the numerous parcels. Pleased with her handiwork, Alanis watched Jasmine walk up the front steps in her new, sunny day gown. There wasn’t a sign of the brassy female buccaneer.

Chambers, Lucas’s butler, greeted them inside the house, looking impressed. “Good day, ladies. What a pity his lordship is out. You make a delightful sight, if I may say so.”

“Thank you, Chambers.” Alanis cast nervous glances at the top of the staircase and yanked her lace gloves off. “Has anything come to pass in our absence?”

“Nothing alarming, my lady. Although you do have visitors: A Madam Holbrook, a Mrs. Greyson, and a Miss Marianne Caldwell. They seem to be under the impression his lordship is harboring dangerous criminals in the house.” He wriggled his eyebrows meaningfully.

“The Witches Council…” Alanis muttered, irritated. What remarkable timing they had.

“Pardon, my lady? I put them in the morning room. I trust I did the right thing?”

“Yes, Chambers, better to get it over and done with before the entire island is upon us. Please be good enough to serve us tea. Come along, Jasmine.” She grabbed the ex-buccaneer’s wrist before she managed a mad dash upstairs. “If you are to become a genteel lady, you should get acquainted with the less charming aspects of the business and have a clearer idea of what you are getting yourself into. ‘Know your enemy,’ my grandfather always says.”

As soon as Alanis spied the two matrons and their young trainee huddled together on the burgundy settee, chattering actively, she experienced a strong urge to embrace Jasmine’s initial plan and hide. They were bored-to-death busybodies with nothing better to do than to spy on everyone’s lives and voice their cutting-edge criticism. Obviously they were here on a mission.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” Alanis smiled. “What a delightful surprise. May I present my dear friend, Countess Jasmine. She’s come all the way from Rome and hardly speaks a word in English. I trust you’ll welcome her into your counc, eh, circle as you have embraced me.”

The ladies tittered and curtsied. Mrs. Greyson exclaimed, “My dear Lady Alis! How lovely it is to see you again. We’ve met but once, yet I feel we’ve become dear friends.”

“Hmm.” Alanis smiled. “How lovely.”

“Our visit today is of vital importance.” Madam Holbrook plunged into the matter at hand. “A most distressing rumor has reached our ears. We came here at once to investigate.”

“Indeed, we rushed here to save you before it was too late!” Marianne cried.

“Save me?” Alanis took her seat, cuing Jasmine to do the same. “Save me from what?”

“From whom! My dear, we strongly suspect his lordship is harboring dangerous criminals.”

“Dangerous criminals?” Alanis gasped dramatically. “I don’t believe it!” She cast horrified eyes at the chalk-faced Jasmine, hoping the poor girl would get the gist of it. “How dreadful!”

“Indeed it is.” Mrs. Greyson huffed. “Quite shocking! Perhaps you’d be able to shed some light on the matter. According to our sources,” she whispered, “the notorious pirate, Eros, and his promiscuous paramour are on the island in this very house. Now what make you of that?”

“Goodness gracious!” Alanis gripped Jasmine’s hand, looking appalled. “Cutthroats, here?”

“Well, what is he like?” Marianne bubbled excitedly. “Is he handsome? May we see him?”

“Hush, girl. We are not here to pay a social call on a ruthless killer,” Mrs. Greyson dourly reproached. “We are here to rescue her ladyship.”

Madam Holbrook took the reins. “His lordship has an important mission to perform, and we salute him. However, you are genteel, unmarried females. Residing in a bachelor establishment without proper supervision while there are pirates onboard…why, that’s blasphemous!” She shuddered. “Therefore, I’ve taken it upon myself, as the long extended arm of your grandfather, to ensure your reputations remain unblemished. I accept this responsibility neither lightly nor precipitously, and I am prepared to dedicate myself to the task as demanding as it may be. As it is written in the Good Book, ‘Evil inclination is one of the worst things, since its Creator called it evil.’ His lordship should exercise good sense and imprison the blackguards in the fortress!”

“Everyone expects the hanging, and his lordship procrastinates,” Mrs. Greyson complained with palpable annoyance. “What is he about?”

“You must get rid of them at once!” Madam Holbrook huffed decisively.

Alanis scrutinized their flushed faces. They were not only ill-mannered snoops, they were bloodthirsty as well. Fighting the urge to kick them out, she realized no amount of good manners would see her through this inquisition without her losing her sanity altogether. Sometimes one had to put one’s foot down to put wags in their places. “I’m afraid you were terribly misled. The villain you mentioned died by his lordship’s sword yesterday. So if there’s nothing else…”

“But there is!” Mrs. Greyson exclaimed. “We have all seen him. The big, dark man they carried wounded into the house. And there was a woman at his side, a heathenish thing, covered in blood with an unruly mane of curls and wearing man’s breeches!”

Alanis glanced at Jasmine, admiring her coiffeur. “Truly ladies, there must be a mistake. You must have imagined the entire thing. Perhaps the heat…”

“Heavens! To be labeled a liar!” Mrs. Greyson collapsed back, fanning her face. “Quick, Marianne, my smelling salts! I feel my faintness coming upon me.”

Alanis was not deceived. “Do forgive my poor choice of words. I meant to say you must have witnessed another poor devil being carted away, but surely not—”

“It was Eros!” Marianne cried excitedly. “He had black hair and a powerful physique. I—”

“Hush, Marianne! Let Lady Alis enlighten us. It appears we have overlooked a great deal.” A doubtful gleam appeared in Madam Holbrook’s eyes. “Did you say a man was brought here?”

Alanis paused. It would take more lies to convince this shrewd hag no trickery was played.

Jasmine coughed discreetly. “Un uomo?” She looked thoughtful. “Ah, mio fratello!”

Alanis shot her a startled look, then hid a sly smile. “Of course. The countess’s brother! What a charming man. Unfortunately, he was struck with a terrible fever on our way over and is presently ill disposed, but I shall be delighted to introduce him to you when he is improved.”

“I don’t believe this!” Madam Holbrook sprang to a battle stance. “Lady Alis, you are leading us on a merry chase and I won’t have it! I firmly demand satisfaction!”

Alanis defiantly rose to the matron’s eye level. The other two came off the couch to uphold a united front with the madam. To bolster defenses, Jasmine joined Alanis. “I am sorry, madam,” Alanis said, “but I can give you none. If you insist further, I shall be forced to see you out.”

“Do not be impertinent with me, young lady! As your new chaperone, I demand—”

“I am not that young a lady, madam. I am four and twenty, which is too old to be in need of guidance. As for my manners, they are no more lacking than yours.”

“I will not be dismissed—”

“You are not my chaperone, Madam Holbrook. Silverlake is my guardian, appointed by my grandfather, and the countess’s excellent company will also keep me from harm’s way. Now, I’ve answered your questions, and I must beg you to leave. I have a ball to prepare for.”

The doors opened, and an unsuspecting Chambers walked in with the tea tray. The madam looked aghast. “I will not excuse such impudence! I demand to search the premises myself!” She took a precarious step toward the door. Quick to the rescue, Chamber swiftly stepped between the madam and the exit, embracing the silver tray to his well-tailored breast.

“This is Viscount Silverlake’s private residence,” Alanis said sternly, “and you’ve insulted him in every possible way. You are no longer welcome.” She smiled coolly. “Good day.”

Beaten but not entirely defeated, Madam Holbrook led out her troops with an occasional, “Why, I never—” while ignoring Alanis, who followed to confirm the council’s safe departure. When they reached their coach, the madam voiced her final blow. “You have not heard the last of this, Lady Alis! Your rascally mouth will not go unpunished! What insolence! And from the granddaughter of the Duke of Dellamore, no less! I’m vastly displeased, vastly displeased!”

Chambers sealed the doors on another resounding “What insolence!” and Alanis and Jasmine returned to the morning room to recover over tea and scones, utterly exhausted.

“It is yet early to change your mind,” Alanis said. “Madam Holbrook is only a sample of what you are to expect.”

“She was truly a nasty one. I was quite terrified. If they went upstairs and found Eros—”

Alanis grimaced. “I do not believe Eros is inclined to harming women, but it wouldn’t have come as a shock to me if he had cut off their flapping tongues. I had the urge to do so myself.”

Jasmine sighed. “You’ve said it yourself—the Witches Council. Thank God they mounted their brooms and winged away.” They stared at each other and burst out laughing.

The Silverlake coach bounced on Windward Road toward the governor’s mansion. Palm and coconut trees lined the road. An orchestra was playing a cotillion. Alanis felt restless. She was leaving with Eros tonight. She chose a fantastic adventure over a man who didn’t love her and a life among poisonous serpents such as Madam Holbrook. She would not be gone long, and her grandfather…She would make him understand. Life was too short to be wasted on regrets.

Lucas stared at Jasmine. She sat in front of him, gowned in muslin with orchids arranged in her hair, a shy debutante. Alanis insisted she come to the ball. Once she was gone, Lucas would have no qualms asking Jasmine to marry him. She wished them Godspeed. She was embarking on a different adventure: She was going to see the world, and she was going to do so with Eros.

Alanis also dressed with extra care, deciding muslin was no longer the thing for a woman of adventure. She wore a glamorous gown of amethyst silk, which no French courtesan would balk at, and the amethyst set of jewels she had worn that fateful ball in Versailles when Eros first noticed her. In her reckless disposition she needed the powers of this stone, which the Romans believed warded off the wicked influences of Bacchus, the God of Revelry. One thing remained unsettled, though: Between the visit to town, the Witches’ visit, relocating to new quarters upon Lucas’s request, and dressing for the ball, she had missed her chance to inform Eros of her decision. She prayed he would wait until midnight. She would sneak out of the ball at eleven o’clock and take the carriage home. In the expected throng, nobody would miss her.

The ballroom buzzed with guests. There was dinner, dancing, and ample conversation, but nothing surpassed the thrill pulsing in her veins as she waited for the eleven chimes of the clock.

When at long last eleven o’clock came, Alanis was panting with tension. She slipped out, making sure no one was the wiser, and asked for her cloak. Out in the courtyard, she located the Silverlake crest with the driver nearby and urged him to take her back. There was no time to lose.

She was well ensconced inside the dark carriage when the door swung open and a cloaked figure climbed inside. “Return to the ball. It’s a mistake what you’re doing. Please trust me.”

Alanis gaped at Jasmine’s veiled face. “You know about this?”

“Do not go with my brother,” Jasmine implored. “As much as I love him and bear him the highest esteem, he is not what you think.”

Jasmine’s subtle warning sent an unpleasant chill up Alanis’s spine. “What is he?”

“Dangerous.”

Alanis’s hands turned icy cold. “Dangerous? In what way?”

“For one, his amorous conquests always begin with lust and end in tears. Not his tears.”

“Amorous conquests?” Nervous laugher bubbled in Alanis’s throat. “You are mistaken. It’s nothing of the sort. Eros promised to show me a few interesting places on the globe. We have a perfectly decent understanding. No strings attached.”

“I wonder how you’d feel about it in a month or so. My brother is a sharp, handsome devil, and he’ll turn your head as a carousel. If you are not already in love with him, you will be.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Alanis clipped. “Eros is not the reason I am leaving. I have decided to cry off my engagement and follow my own dreams for once. You cannot begin to comprehend since you’ve always had the freedom to do as you pleased. But you should be delighted because it works out fine for the both of us. I want my freedom and you want Lucas.”

“Please let me leave instead. You saved my brother’s life and I’m in your debt, but more than that, I’ve come to consider you a friend. The rift between you and Hunter is my fault. When I’m gone, you’ll be able to mend it and enjoy a good life together.”

“It is much too late for that. I’ve made my decision, and I intend to pursue it.”

Jasmine hesitated. “In that case, I wish you bon voyage. Eros will keep you safe. He’s good at that sort of thing.” She kissed Alanis’s cheek and stepped out. “What should I tell Hunter?”

“Tell him the truth!” Alanis waved good-bye as the carriage clattered away.

Alanis hoisted her skirts and rushed upstairs, praying to God she was not too late. The door to Eros’s room was ajar. Faint light poured through the crack. She took a fortifying breath and walked inside. The shutters screeched a weak salute in the breeze, the muslin drapes whispered softly, but there was no one in sight. Eros was gone.

She sank on the bed. A sole tear slipped her cheek. She was too late. Her last chance at sunshine and freedom vanished with Eros, as suddenly as it became possible last night. He must have slipped through the window and crawled on the roof. She couldn’t do it in perfect health; Eros had twenty stitches in his side. And he didn’t even let her say good-bye.

She wiped the tear and surveyed the room. She was so happy here last night, so hopeful. She must have dreamed the entire thing, for surely fate could not be so cruel. Her gaze settled on the bedside console. Lit by a candle, Eros’s orange rested exactly where she had put it. “Damn you and your damned oranges!” She snatched the fruit and meant to toss it out the window. A note caught her eye. It was tucked under the orange. Quickly unfolding it, she read: Old town. Until midnight. “Damn you and your damned oranges!” Laughing, she raced out the door. She collided into Betsy. “Betsy! Thank God.” Alanis grabbed her elbow and steered her along. “I need your help. Which one of our boys is around? Jamey Perkins? Robby Pool?”

“I reckon Jamey’s in the kitchen, having a nip. Shall I summon him?”

“Tell him to meet me out front with the carriage. There is no time to lose!”

“My lady!” Betsy gasped, but Alanis shooed her to the kitchen.

“The coachman returned to retrieve his lordship,” Jamey explained apologetically when he arrived with Betsy at the entrance, leading a saddled horse.

“No matter,” Alanis exclaimed. Every minute counted. She could not afford to be late a second time. “Quick, take me to the old town. There’s no time to spare.”

“The old ruins? At this hour?” The two servants exchanged alarmed looks. “But the ghosts, my lady? The dead buccaneers?” Jamey reminded her fretfully.

“Do not ask questions. I beseech you, make haste,” Alanis implored. “Help me up.”

“Port Royal is on the other side of the bay. We’ll need a boat.” Jamey lifted her onto the saddle and mounted behind her, as he had held her as a child and taught her how to ride a horse.

“We’ll find a boat, hurry! Take me to the wharf.” Time was the enemy. She had now less than half an hour to midnight. “Betsy.” She smiled at her anxious maid. “Please don’t fret. I shall see you in England within a few months. His lordship will send you home.”

“A few months? You’re off with him, then? The pirate? What should I tell His Grace?”

“Tell His Grace whatever enters your head. I’ll return soon.”

“Oh, my lady!” Betsy wailed. “His Grace will have my head for letting you leave, and his lordship…and your clothes, my lady, your jewels!”

“His lordship will send everything home with you.” Alanis’s voice softened. “Please don’t cry. I’ll be fine. Give my love to His Grace.” She waved farewell, and Jamey kicked his heels.

The wharf was quiet. Jamey assisted her into a fisherman’s dory and took the oars. A warm breeze fanned her face as they made their way across the dark waters past Refuge Cay and Gallows Point, where she saw the gallows standing erect beside the waterline—a warning to all pirates. Hands clutched in her lap, she prayed time would prove generous to her quest. She was saying good-bye to the only world she ever knew. She was shaping her destiny and braving the world. She was putting her trust in a man she had known for less than a week—a pirate, a stranger.

They reached Port Royal, the infamous town of the buccaneers before an earthquake sent it to damnation. Her spine tingled. Jamey jumped ashore and helped her out of the dory.

“Would you like me to accompany you, my lady?” he asked timorously.

“No. Thank you, Jamey. You may turn back now.” She smiled reassuringly. The poor man’s hairs were virtually standing on end.

He frowned, weighing devotion against fear. Fear tipped the scales. Assuming his position in the boat, he said, “May God be with you, my lady, and keep you safe.”

The old ruins emerged from the sand as a daunting headstone. She was mad; Alanis shook her head and started walking along the moonlit beach, cursing the damp sand for ruining her best pair of satin heels. Sunshine and freedom indeed! She was a reckless idiot! She scanned the night-veiled horizon. A ship awash in moonlight awaited her captain. Where the devil was Eros?

“Looking for someone?” a deep voice called.

Alanis whipped around. Eros was casually perched on a tall boulder. A pleased grin curved his lips as his eyes took in her appearance. Clinging to her neck by a satin ribbon, her cape hung low down her back, exposing her shimmering purple ball gown and the violet stones gracing the rises of her collarbone. Golden strands clung to her cheeks. A strong pulse throbbed visibly at the base of her throat, betraying the state of her nerves. She was out of breath and trembling like the breeze.

“I thought you’d left.” She panted, causing her bosom to push above her low neckline.

“Still here.” Eros hopped off the rock. He landed soundlessly on the soft sand and walked to her. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “So you found my note. Too clever for your own good.” He came up in front of her, tall and dark, his jet hair catching the light wind. He splayed his hands on her small waist and pulled her to him. “Did you have a nice time at the ball?”

Heart pounding, Alanis stared into his eyes. “How long before midnight?”

He ran a finger along the graceful slope of her neck. “Not too long.”

She frowned at his casual tone. Perhaps it was a mistake. Sailing the world still seemed a tempting endeavor, yet Eros was a stranger, a dangerous, unreadable stranger.

His large palm cruised up her spine and cradled her nape. “No changing your mind now, bellissima. You’re coming with me.” His mouth silenced her potential protests. His taste, his heat overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around him and sunk into his kiss. Dark waves broke ashore, spraying her skin. It was magic—sirens luring sailors to smash onto the rocks. Magic.

Snickering voices interrupted the kiss. “Capitano, did we come in a bad time?”

Alanis broke free. Five men were coming ashore; a boat lapped at the edge of the water.

“I think your physician is reluctant to release you.” Nico’s amused eyes boldly roamed her.

She burrowed against Eros, who shot Nico a debilitating glare. “Star zitto, Niccolò! And the rest of you—shut up as well!” He took her cold hand and started toward the boat.

“Wait!” Alanis dug her heels in the sand. She stared at the men—the company she was to keep henceforth. A chill ran up her spine. It was a mistake. She could not possibly go with them. She met Eros’s questioning gaze. “Take me back, Eros. Please. I’ve changed my mind.”

He stared at her. “Too late. I can’t afford to lose the tide.”

With one look he iced her blood. It was as if he had flipped and she was facing another side of him—a cold, unfeeling side. He was not the playful, wounded cub she had cared for two nights ago. “I will go by myself.” She tried to unshackle her hand, but he only tightened his grip.

He marched ahead, dragging her against her will down the sloping beach. She struggled and protested to no avail. He scooped her off the sand and waded the short distance to the boat in his boots. His men exploded with laughter.

“Shut up, idiots!” Eros nailed them with a sharp look of warning. “Now row!”