My Wicked Pirate. Rona Sharon
see why not,” Alanis replied coolly. “He is her brother. I only hope the sentries you posted outside will let her pass. It appears I am to reside in a prison.”
“So long as you insist on nursing a dangerous criminal in your bedchamber, you shall have soldiers around you for your own protection.”
He was either a hypocrite or an idiot. “Do you see a need to protect me from a wounded man who can scarcely keep his eyelids open?”
“I do.” He sent Jasmine upstairs and invited Alanis inside his den. “The Pink Beryl arrived this morning,” he announced, shutting the double doors behind them. He assisted her into the wingchair fronting his desk and took his seat behind it. “I had a long talk with Captain McGee. Devastation. Brutality. This is what your pirate is capable of, and you choose to champion him. What am I to think, Alis? What am I to tell your grandfather?”
“What an interesting question,” she replied tartly.
“The situation is beyond the pale. I will not tolerate this kind of willfulness from you.”
The venom in his voice appalled her. “You are changed. Yesterday I had the impression Jamaica improved you. I see now I was mistaken. Three years and you cannot find half a smile to greet me with. If you wish me gone, say so at once.”
A guilty look surfaced in his eyes. He blinked and said, “Any word from my father?”
“The last time I saw the earl he was in excellent health. He sends his best.”
“Thank you. We didn’t part on the best of terms when I left England. He said he did not have an heir to spare and that if I insist on making an impression in this war, I should do it properly alongside Marlborough. I imagine he deems me a poor legatee for his earldom, but consoles himself that at least his grandchildren will be half Dellamores.”
The earl’s disapproval was an old sore with Lucas. “His lordship is very proud of you,” she assured him. “He speaks of your accomplishments to anyone who cares to listen.”
His rueful gaze perused her appearance. The bright sunlight highlighted her aquamarine eyes so that they seemed to reflect the sea stretching beyond the windows. She had tiny pearls in her earlobes, golden locks spilling over a bare ivory shoulder. Her lace décolletage presented an alluring view of skin. “My, but you do look fetching,” he admitted warmly. “Can’t locate one hint of the ragamuffin who wrestled me for a seat on the old elm tree.”
Her umbrage mellowed a bit, yet she couldn’t decide if he regarded her as a man or as a friend. In many ways she considered him more of an older brother. She found him pleasing to the eye, but unlike the Italian upstairs, there was nothing pulse-quickening about him. “It is good to see you,” she allowed frigidly. “Three years is a long time.”
“Indeed it is, and we should make up for it. We have much catching up to do.”
Perhaps all was not lost, Alanis mused. The island was lovely, and she always dreamed of living in a place such as this. She felt at ease around him, too; no danger lurked in dark corners.
Lucas smiled. “Tell me, was the voyage agreeable? I’m curious to learn how you obtained Dellamore’s permission to come here. I scarcely believed it when I saw you on the pirate ship. If it hadn’t been for your presence onboard, I’d have blasted the damnable villain out of the water.”
She had no desire to get into that again. “Dellamore was very stubborn, and the war did not help my cause one bit. I had to explain that you and I would never be wed as long as an ocean runs between us, and that since you cannot abandon your post I must come to you. He is anxious for me to be married so that once he’s no longer among us I won’t be left unprotected.”
“Your grandfather needn’t worry. We’ll be married soon and you’ll sail back to England.”
“I beg your pardon?” Alanis blinked. Marry then leave?
“Alis, do not tell me you’re squeamish about marrying me. It was decided ages ago.”
“I am not squeamish. I am wondering why I should wed you at all if I’m to be sent home.”
“We live in perilous times, perpetually threatened by French and Spanish warships bent on destruction. It’s too dangerous for you to stay, and I’m too busy to keep you diverted.”
Alanis bolted to her feet. “That won’t do, Lucas. I came to live here as your wife, not to be shipped home as a useless piece of luggage.” She couldn’t believe he intended to seal her fate so cruelly—locking her away in Drearyshire and throwing away the key. She would fight him tooth and nail, even cry off the engagement. “I won’t stand for it!” she vowed. “I won’t!”
“Calm down, Alis.”
“I won’t calm down. Not until you put this daft notion of sending me home out of your obtuse head. You of all people should know how I despise sitting in wait. I’ve waited all my life for the opportunity to see the world. I want to explore that which I have missed. I want to live!”
“Well, you can’t live here,” the viscount determined.
“Why not?” Her mind reeled, signaling a pending headache. It was a déjà vu of all the aggravations she had suffered over the years: when her parents left her at home to travel the world, when Tom left for Eton, and when the duke was busy with affairs of state.
Lucas set his jaw. “Why do you insist on defying me? Yesterday you made a spectacle of yourself volunteering to care for a pirate. Now you are acting as a flighty wench. I won’t tolerate unruly behavior, Alis. I am to be your husband, and you will learn to obey me.”
“Obey you?” She glowered at his pompous face, wishing she had something to throw at it.
“I am not an irrational tyrant. I am being quite reasonable, in fact, while you choose to defy me at every turn. The pirate you keep in your bedchamber is to be hanged tomorrow and you are to sail back to England as soon as the Pink Beryl is outfitted for the voyage.”
“You cannot hang a man so severely wounded!”
“I can and I shall. Let me remind you the law: ‘Any man who receives, harbors, comforts, or succors a criminal is guilty, as if he himself bore arms.’You should be grateful I do not charge you with high treason.”
She felt nauseated. “Since when have you acquired the manners of a hangman, Lucas?”
“Since you decided to make an exhibition of yourself!” he barked.
She went utterly still. Disappointment choked her. She didn’t recognize him anymore.
“I must hang him. If I don’t, I’ll be labeled an accomplice. Think of my reputation.”
“Hang your reputation! I am not so green that I do not comprehend the true reason you do not want me underfoot. But let me enlighten you as to the nature of us women. We do not care for monsters who execute our siblings. I’m certain this rule applies to mistresses as well!”
“What am I to do, then?” Lucas frowned miserably.
“Figure it out yourself!” In a whirl of salmon-pink skirts she turned on her heel and left, slamming the heavy oak doors behind her.
Jasmine found Eros asleep amidst lavender-scented sheets and fluffy pillows. Warm gusts of wind swelled the muslin drapes screening the bright sunlight. She knelt beside the bed and kissed his cheek. His eyelids snapped open. The piercing glare mellowed once he recognized the sweet face smiling at him. “Kitten.” He smiled sleepily. “What time is it?”
“Noon, sluggard!” She strutted to the window, swept the drapes aside, and crashed into a chair, propping her booted feet on a table. “Were you planning on wasting the entire day abed?”
Eros grimaced. He pushed himself up against the pillows, cursing the damned light and the damned pain. “Mannaggia. I think my head is about to explode.” He put his hands to his temples and