The Pirate's Duchess: A Regent's Revenge Novella (5 page)

Bang!

Prudence’s blood-curdling scream joined the echoing gunfire.

Bang!

He jerked, grunting as a searing pain exploded through his leg. Manfred rose up on his hind legs, nearly unseating them both. A thunderclap fractured the sky, the flash of light blinding in its intensity. Prudence screamed again, clawing for a handhold. Tobias clenched his teeth and worked to regain control of the reins, knowing he was the only thing keeping Prudence from falling to her death. He tightened his grip around her waist as the clouds opened, releasing a torrential rain. He kicked Manfred into a run and changed course, heading straight for the Dennys’ cottage.

“We should have taken the carriage,” she shouted. “It isn’t safe.”

A groan escaped him. “Perhaps,” he said, trying to ignore the pain searing his thigh. “What’s done is done. We cannot turn back time.”

He leaned into her stiff unyielding body, taking refuge against her, fascinated and eager to learn more about the woman he’d abandoned, longing to confide his dark, unfathomable secrets to her, to escape the pain vying for control over his body. Would she believe him, forgive him for the atrocities he’d committed against her? Would he survive long enough to get her to safety?

He had only one regret: not telling her how much he loved her before he’d left.

FOUR

Revenue officers report an awkward BUNGLING of events, a deplorable ENCOUNTER resulting in another CALAMITOUS entanglement with the BLACK REGENT. Verified sources at
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
report an INDEFATIGABLE exertion by the
Fury
’s crew, who prevented a DISASTER off the coast of Sidmouth, SAVING revenue cutters who’d given chase.

~
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
, 14 October 1808

Even the sun conspired against her. It had disappeared behind the clouds, allowing a bitter cold wind and rain to defile what should have been her wedding day.

Prudence trembled in Tobias’s arms as he guided Manfred to Jones and Lucy Denny’s rock-and-timber stable two hundred yards from their main cottage. Once there, Tobias dismounted slowly, careful not to unseat her. He tied Manfred’s reins to a post before turning back to Prudence with outstretched arms. Frightened, exhausted, and still simmering from his lies, she leaned down toward him as he grabbed her waist. Her teeth were chattering so fast, she practically fell against him. She grabbed on to his lapels as he scooped her up in his arms, and she burrowed her face into his coat to brace against the midday chill saturating her body. It helped little to shield her from the brutal wind, but she didn’t care. Tobias only seemed real when she was in his arms.

“Not so timid now, eh?” Tobias asked as raindrops landed on her face and rolled down her neck.

She blinked back the moisture and gazed into his eyes, completely aware she must look a fright. She didn’t care. She’d never been vain. What concerned her now were her conflicting emotions. She’d fought hard to live without Tobias, to gain her independence. Now, as she looked up at his dripping-wet face, she didn’t want to let him go again. With that admission, the network of ramparts she’d built around her heart collapsed. Air filled her lungs, and she felt like she could soar on eagles’ wings. Cradled in his arms, close to his beating heart, she didn’t want this beautiful ceasefire to wash away like the clay beneath their feet. But it would. All good things came to an end.

“You’ll soon be warm, my dove,” he promised.

Thank goodness they’d arrived at the Dennys’ front door. The couple was kind and would take them in without question. She had hired them on the recommendation of Lords Thaddeus Standeford and Algernon Barrett, Tobias’s old friends.

“I am not your d-dove.” But oh, how she wanted to turn back time, to be his in every way. “And I insist on not b-being treated like a child.”

A pained expression flattened his lips. He readjusted his hold on her person and staggered slightly. “If that is your wish.”

Carillons vibrated inside her. Heaven help her, she couldn’t bear his indifference any more than she could the frantic beating of her heart. “What is it?” she asked. Something wasn’t right. He’d agreed too easily and without sarcasm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He grinned sheepishly, then started to slosh his way through the muck to the Dennys’ front door. She held on to him as he stopped, groaned, and shuffled sideways, borrowing the side of the cottage for support.

“I must get you to the house.” He moved again, this time favoring one leg.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” She struggled to slide down to her feet. “Where?”

“Come,” he said, refusing to let her go, putting one foot in front of the other as he limped to the cottage steps. “I will not have you ruining your slippers.”

“I don’t care about my slippers.” She splayed her hands over his chest. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’ve been shot.”

Shot? The word rifled through her brain. No, no, no. Who would have shot him? Surely they weren’t being targeted.
No one in their right mind hunts in a thunderstorm.
“How? Why didn’t you let me know?”

Thunder rumbled loudly, frightening her half to death. His gaze flickered over the countryside, then slanted to the door. “We need to get out of sight.”

“Someone is still out there?” She swallowed thickly. “We were followed?”

He lowered her until her feet touched the ground. “I believe so.”

She struggled to breathe as if the wind stole her breath, hating the separation between them. The ramifications of what he’d told her began to add up. Tobias wasn’t lying. Underwood’s men
were
after them and would stop at nothing to kill Tobias, to keep them from bringing an heir into the world. She couldn’t lose him, not again. Not now. Not when she was so close to reclaiming everything she’d ever dreamed of. Desperate, she pounded on the cottage door.

“Mrs. Denny will help us. You can trust her. She was delivered of her child with no complications, but I spent many months easing her condition to help make that happen.”

The door to the cottage creaked open. “Lady Blackmoor? Why are ye drenched to the skin, and on your wedding day, no less?”

“I’m sorry to impose, Mrs. Denny, but we’ve had an accident.” Prudence didn’t want to frighten the woman. How did she explain that her husband was alive and that he’d been shot?

The steward’s wife opened the door wider. “’Tis a violent day for a wedding and a terrible omen, too. An accident, you say? Did you say
we
? Is the earl with you?”

Tobias stepped forward and put his hand around Prudence’s shoulders for leverage. “No.”

The welcome glow of a fire in the hearth beckoned like a holy light. Mrs. Denny’s eyes fastened on Tobias, then sped to Prudence and back again. “Well now, that is a relief!”

Prudence couldn’t hide her confusion. “A—”

“May we trouble you for a towel?” Tobias asked.

Prudence suppressed a shiver of dread. It was almost as if Mrs. Denny knew Tobias. That wasn’t possible, was it? The woman had never met him. She knew Prudence was supposed to have married Basil. But how odd it must look, Prudence showing up at her door with a stranger. Flames of humiliation rose to her cheeks. “I pray we won’t be too much of an imposition.”

Tobias’s weight bore down on her, but she didn’t complain.

“Auch. Where are my manners? Come in. Warm yourself by the fire, Your Graces. I’ll make some tea.” She stepped aside, then closed the door behind them and moved to the cast iron stove to move a large kettle. “Let
me
help
you
for once.”

Your Graces?
Surely that was a slip of Mrs. Denny’s tongue. No, she thought, helping Tobias into the room. She’d heard wrong. Was she already coming down with the ague?

“Please, sit down by the fire and warm your bones,” the steward’s wife said as a tiny wail erupted from the cradle situated nearby. Mrs. Denny headed toward the wooden frame, grabbed the hand-carved side, and rocked her wee babe humming a lovely lullaby.

“There isn’t any need to fuss,” Tobias whispered.

“You cannot walk,” Prudence said. “Of course, there is.”

“Does that mean you care?”

Of course she did. If he wasn’t healthy, she couldn’t punish him for deceiving her. She ushered him to a comfortable chair near the fire. “Don’t read into my concern.” She unclasped his cloak, then urged him to sit. “Which leg?”

“Left.”

She immediately inspected his left side, running her fingers down the length of his thigh. He winced as she located the hole in his brown breeches and ripped the fabric wider. “You’re still bleeding.” There wasn’t a moment to lose. She turned to Mrs. Denny. “I do apologize for ruining your rug, but it cannot be helped.”

“Don’t worry about your wet clothes.”

Their garments weren’t on Prudence’s mind. No, it was the blood oozing out of Tobias’s leg that concerned her. “Do you have any clean bandages?”

Mrs. Denny immediately stopped cooing to her child. “Bandages?”

Prudence rose to stand. Sometimes the best way to say something was to be blunt. “He’s been shot.”

The woman crossed her heart and dipped a curtsy. “Auch. I shall gather what you need. I keep a pitcher of water near the front door. You can start with that until I return.”

“Thank you,” Prudence said, moving to pick up the pitcher and then hurrying to Tobias’s side.

Mrs. Denny’s footfalls retreated down the cottage corridor. Prudence knelt down and ripped a section of her gown to place it on his wound in the meantime. Seed pearls scattered on the floor. Tobias’s muscles flexed beneath her fingers, and he winced, sucking in a hiss. With nothing else to do, she allowed her gaze to wander over him in a bid to rediscover the infuriating man she’d married. If all he’d told her was true, he’d denied himself a life in order to protect hers.

He looked no older than he had when he’d left, but there was a hardness in his eyes she felt compelled to breach. But that wasn’t all. Muscular changes had been made to his physique, pleasing her more than she wanted to admit. As she studied the fine lines of his aristocratic nose, the downward turn of his sensual mouth, pleasurable sensations flooded through her, filling her with light, empowerment, hope, and yes, love. There was still plenty of it lingering inside of her, crying out with savage intensity. By the time she stripped her gaze from Tobias’s face, tears were sliding down her cheeks. She loved him. God in heaven, after all he’d done, she still truly loved him.

Mrs. Denny returned.

Prudence wiped her face with the back of her hand and helped relieve the linen and ointment from the woman’s arms.

Mrs. Denny handed Tobias a bottle of brandy, then gently pushed Prudence away. “I will tend him, madam.”

“I can do it,” she insisted. “I helped take care of you, didn’t I?”

“That you did. But you’ve had quite a scare and you’re as cold as death. Sit by the fire. Drink some tea. Rest. It will do you a world of good.”

Tobias nodded, encouraging her to obey the woman’s request.

Stinging from his dismissal, she crossed her arms, rubbing them up and down as she stepped aside. She wasn’t thirsty. All she could think about was Tobias. She didn’t want to let him out of her sight, even as Mrs. Denny blocked him from view. She knew he was in capable hands and she tried to stay calm, but an overwhelming sense she might lose him again drummed a cadence in her chest. To occupy her thoughts, she ran her gaze over the tiny cottage and its humble furnishings. Simple lace curtains hung at narrow windows, and tallow candles and a clock decorated the mantel. On the wall hung a simple painting of a three-masted ship. Sturdy high-backed chairs and an oak table filled half of the open room, and a plain settee lined with embroidered medallions faced the hearth where the Dennys’ innocent babe slept.

Prudence knew absolutely nothing about taking care of babies. In fact, she envied Mr. and Mrs. Denny their loving home and their little family more than they could possibly know. Children were the one gift with which she feared she’d never be blessed. It had been the main reason she’d agreed to marry Basil. Yet now, with Tobias back, that dream would be unattainable. Despair gripped her, and she choked back a latent sob. What use was a family when a man wanted to spend his life fulfilling a vendetta that endangered those who loved him?

A latch clicked at the back door. Prudence, wide-eyed, glanced at Tobias in a panic. He put up his hand and motioned for her to relax. The large wooden hinge gave way and creaked ominously as a dark-figured man walked into the cottage. Tobias didn’t appear to be alarmed at the sight of Jones Denny. In fact, he acted as if he’d been prepared for the man to arrive.

Mr. Denny surveyed the room, paying particular attention to Tobias.

“We have visitors,” Mrs. Denny stated the obvious, inclining her head toward Prudence.

Tobias cleared his throat.

Mr. Denny repeated the gesture, hiking up his belted trousers. “Before you seize up with protest, I can explain.”

“I told you I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of this,” Mrs. Denny snapped, scolding her husband. “If you cost me
her
good-natured smile, I will never forgive you.”

“Followin’ orders, love.” Denny moved into the room, his throat bobbing nervously. “Will you not ease Lucy’s mind and speak in me defense, Cap’n?”

“Captain?” Prudence’s heart clenched. What did Mr. and Mrs. Denny know that she didn’t? “What on earth is going on?” she asked Tobias. “How do you know Mr. Denny? And why is he calling you ‘captain’?”

Mrs. Denny tightened the bandages on Tobias’s leg. He grimaced, then closed his eyes. “Aye,” she said, clucking her tongue. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” She cinched the bandages tighter, bound them off with a knot, and snatched up the now-bloodied rags she’d used to clean his wound. She stood, then lifted the water pitcher to her chest before moving toward the kitchen.

“What’s going on, Tobias?” Prudence asked again. “What else haven’t you told me?”

Tobias ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Don’t be angry with the Dennys. Before they arrived here, I made them swear to keep my secret.”

“Before they arrived here?” She touched both of her temples and began to pace. “Good God! How many secrets do you have?”

“It’s . . . complicated.”