My Wicked Pirate. Rona Sharon
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?”