The Pirate's Duchess: A Regent's Revenge Novella (11 page)

“The
Fury
. Have you ever heard of the Black Regent?”

EPILOGUE

The sudden DISAPPEARANCE of the BLACK REGENT gives rise to speculation that the smuggler is no more. In light of this HISTORIC occasion, Lady O., to whom
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
owes a great debt of gratitude, has promised a CELEBRATION of unequaled size. Revenue officers have happily CONTRIBUTED spirits, figs, coffee, and tobacco as a measure of GENEROSITY to Exeter and the forbearance of its inhabitants.

~
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
, 8 April 1809

Exeter, Devon

15 July 1809

Prudence gazed on her husband, her heart heavy with emotion. Filled with more happiness than she’d ever dreamed of experiencing, she inhaled the aroma wafting from her bowl of turtle soup. Her stomach roiled. She swallowed hard and pushed the bowl away, filled with an urgent need to flee to her chambers. Instead, she took a deep breath and dabbed her mouth with a napkin.

Oblivious to her discomfort, Tobias dipped his spoon into the savory broth and sat back with a contented sigh. The very idea that he’d swallowed the soup sent on another pang of nausea churning through her. Irritated that her body mutinied against her before she could relay her wonderful news, she focused on the brilliant light shimmering from the beeswax candles that illuminated the china and crystal on the table before them.

This wasn’t how she’d imagined the evening would go at all.

“Are you unwell?” Tobias asked when she didn’t attempt to raise her spoon.

“I—”

“Your Grace,” Coburn, the family butler said, appearing beside them with a silver plate bearing a note with a unique waxed seal—helmet and plume. It was distinctly Chloe’s.

With bated breath, Prudence snatched the letter. “It’s from Chloe.” She clasped it to her heart, smothering her alarm. “Whatever do you think could be wrong?”

“If it’s from Lady Chloe . . . anything.”

Prudence tamped down another bout of queasiness, attributing this round to dread. She lowered the missive to her lap, then slipped her fingers under the wax. The tell-tale crack filled the quiet room. “It’s not like Chloe to contact me this way.”

“Via an urgent note?” Tobias wrinkled his nose and cocked his brow. “I half expect her to burst into the room at all hours.”

She smiled affectionately. “Admit it. You adore her as much as I do.”

He returned her smile. “I adore you more.”

Shadows of old couldn’t compete with the fullness swelling in her breast. “You better,” she said as she opened the note.

She expanded the foolscap and read the contents slowly, then faster and faster. She lowered her hands, nearly crumpling the vellum. “Oh no!”

Tobias raised his brow. “What has she done now?”

“Good God, how will we ever be able to help Chloe find a good husband now? She’s run off!” She paused, shaking her head. “I cannot believe this. She can’t be in her right mind.”

Tobias wiped his mouth, then chuckled. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

She tapped his hand with the note. “Oh, do try and understand. I had such high hopes that one of your friends might be the knight in shining armor she’s been waiting for.”

“None of my friends fit that mold, except me. And I’m taken.”

“Darling, you have no idea. Our—” she hesitated to remind him “—affection for certain novels was entirely delightful when we were young, but now . . . well . . .” She put her hand to her lips. “Chloe has taken things too far.”

“May I see the letter, my dove?”

“Very well. But I feel I must warn you—”

“Remember where we’ve been—to hell and back. This is England. We can survive anything.”

She nodded, struggling to hang on to hope that somehow they could make this right—for Chloe’s sake. She handed the letter to him, looking over his shoulder as he read silently:

My dearest friend,

I ask you one question: is a body unhappy about another unless she is in love? I fear we both know the answer to that now, and a gentle violence thrills my soul as I share with you that I intend to sail with the tide. I cannot face the snares and wiles of this world without love to recommend me. Therefore, I beseech you to keep my secret, for you are the only one I trust.

Markwick has disappeared. As you are no longer betrothed, I am finally at liberty to confess to you that I love him. I have always loved him, and I cannot bear for him to suffer alone. Sources close to my brother inform me that a man fitting Markwick’s description has been seen in Torquay. Therefore, I’ve attained passage for myself and my maid on board the
Valerian
.

Do not be alarmed for my person or harden your heart against me. Dry your earnest tears. My virtuous intentions steer me toward a brighter destiny.

Resourcefully yours,

Chloe Walsingham

He handed the missive back to her. “Markwick? Of all my friends, she had to pick Markwick.”

“There’s more,” she said, trying to focus on the joy swelling in her bosom rather than worry about Chloe at present. Tobias would see to her friend’s safety. She was sure of it.

“More?” He took the letter from her hand and read it again. “I see nothing more.”

She forced a smile, trying to keep from looking as pale as she felt. “It is not in Chloe’s note, darling. But upon reading it, I realize that time holds no relevance when love fills the heart. We’re starting anew, you and I. Let there be no more secrets between us.”

“I’ve kept nothing from you these many months, Prudence. My love for you has fueled every thought.”

“But that isn’t necessarily true. That is to say, you haven’t expressed your feelings.”

He laughed and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb across her wrist. “Haven’t I? Has it not been obvious how much I care as every night I hold you in my arms and make love to you? I love you, Prudence. I vow with every bone in my body to love you for the rest of your days.”

Her heart clenched. Her other hand slid to her belly. She splayed her fingers there and grinned slyly. “On one condition, my lord.”

He glanced down at her strangely. “I rose from the grave for you. I
will
do anything for you.”

“Anything?” she asked, rising from her chair to stand beside him. With the ease of a man used to getting his way, he pulled her down to his lap.

“Have I not proven how far I would go to protect you, my dove? Must I promise to enlist a certain pirate to help your friend?”

“Yes.” She placed his hand over hers, glorying in the life growing inside her womb. Against all odds, love had steered their souls toward each other and now that love bore fruit. “But I require much more.”

“More?”

She smiled slyly, loving the way his blue eyes softened when he looked at her. “I want my children to know I was a pirate’s duchess.”

He glanced down at their intertwined fingers as she played with the hair at his nape.

“Children?”
His eyes grew round, and when he raised them to her, the glow of his smile melted her heart.

She nodded. “Yours and mine.”

“Ours,” he said, drawing her close.

He kissed her softly, a kiss so true, so potent that she didn’t care who looked upon them.

When he allowed her a stabilizing breath, his sensual mouth split into a wide grin before he spoke again. “All hail the elusive Black Regent!”

Thank you for reading, The Pirate’s Duchess!

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The Pirate’s Debt
, Regent’s Revenge #2 will be next in the Regent’s Revenge Series.

Basil, Earl of Markwick, seeks atonement for his father’s sins, but he doesn’t bargain for Lady Chloe Walsingham, a gothic romance enthusiast intent on chasing her own happily-ever-after.

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