The Reaper

by Barbara Devlin

  “I did.” Blade smiled. “Given you renamed the Black Morass the Lady Madalene, and the Marooner now calls the Cry Havoc the Lady Sophia, I figured I would henceforth call my ship the Lady Charitye, in keeping with the unwritten custom.”

  Again, Maddie entered the study, carrying a blanket, and she marched to one of the high back chairs before the hearth, thrust her chin, and leveled her stare on Jean Marc.

  Uttering a slew of invective in French, Jean Marc doffed his jacked and yanked on his cravat. “Are we done, as I am needed elsewhere.”

  “I see that.” Blade chuckled, as he gathered his papers. “I will close the door on my way out.”

  “Thank you.” After he unbuttoned the top of his shirt, Jean Marc walked to his wife, speared his fingers in her hair, and engaged in a very thorough kiss. “I love you, my angel.”

  “I love you, too.” Maddie pushed Jean Marc to sit, stepped about his legs, and eased to his lap, and he tucked the blanket about her. “Will you read to me?”

  “I will do anything for Mon Chou.” He picked up a book from a table, flipped the pages, and commenced to recite some sort of syrupy drivel, and Blade, mesmerized by what he witnessed, quietly pulled shut the oak panel.

  In the hall, he glanced left and then right and went in search of his woman, and she was his woman. As he entered the foyer, he ran into the housekeeper. “Miss Hannah, have you seen Mrs. Vanderley?”

  “Yes, Mr. Reyson.” The housekeeper nodded. “She is in her chamber.”

  In a proper household, it was not appropriate for a man to visit a woman in her bedroom, but Fair Winds was anything but proper, given the master was a former buccaneer. It took mere minutes to skip up the stairs and navigate the hall, and he knocked on her door.

  “Come,” she replied.

  He twisted the knob and pushed inside, where he found Charitye squatting on the floor, before her trunk. “What are you doing?”

  “I had the strangest vision, which led me to inspect the lid of my trunk, and I discovered a hidden compartment.” An interior panel, curved to match the cut of the chest, opened to reveal a sheaf of documents. Fascinated, he sat beside her and folded his legs. “What did you find?”

  “I don’t know, because I just located it.” She sat back. “Will you do the honors, as I can only take so many surprises, and I’ve endured quite a few, of late?”

  “Certainly.” Blade pulled the stash from the lid and spread the items on the floor. “This is a will, and it appears to be your husband’s.” He scanned the contents of the legal agreement. “Reuben designated you the sole beneficiary of his estate, and it is vast, with numerous holdings.”

  “I wish I could remember more about him, but I feel nothing.” She bit her bottom lip. “And I can hardly recall his face.”

  “There is a letter.” Without prompt, he unfolded the correspondence, expecting to resolve another riddle of her personal history.

  My dear Charitye,

  Your support and encouragement has been the most cherished gift I have ever known, and your friendship has been the most important of my existence. I am so sorry I rewarded your faithfulness with disappointment and failure, in that I could not love you as you deserved to be loved, and that is the single greatest regret of my life.

  If you are reading this, then I am gone, and I pray that our marriage brought you some comfort, for however long it lasted. Know that I have taken extreme measures to ensure your future financial stability, and I can only hope it is not too late for you to find someone to love.

  Your most devoted servant,

  Reuben

  As Blade digested the meaning, he realized he had more questions than answers, because the missive contained naught but another puzzle. Then he noticed that Charitye remained stock-still, staring at some random spot on the wall. When he rested a hand on her shoulder, she jumped.

  “We were betrothed by our families, and we did our duty, as was expected of us.” She spoke in an apathetic tone that was not lost on him. “Reuben and I were as brother and sister, not husband and wife. But he was kind to me, and he never shamed me.”

  “Did he take another woman to his bed?” Given what she just revealed, he longed to hold her, but she remained distant. “Did he keep a mistress?”

  “No.” She met his gaze. “It was a man.”

  “I see.” The practice was neither unknown nor uncommon, but it was not openly accepted in most circles. However, it did not matter to him, because pirates cared not for societal dictates. Buccaneers lived on the fringe of polite society, and they were, in a sense, outcasts in their own right, so who was he to judge anyone? “What are your thoughts on the situation, my dear?”

  “Although I am not entirely sure, I do not believe it bothered me, because I have the impression that there was love between us.” She traced the signature on the letter. “It was just an unconventional love, and my instincts tell me Reuben was a good man.”

  “Where do you go from here?” He considered how the disclosure might affect their relationship. “And where does that leave us?”

  “I do not see how it changes anything.” To his relief, she took his hand in hers. “We depart tomorrow for Virginia, and I am more determined than ever to know you, if you are still willing.”

  “I am more than willing.” To prove his point, he bent his head and claimed a kiss, and he adored her attempts to match his prowess, as she pulled his hair and bit his tongue. As usual, she tempted him beyond the limits of his self-control, and he halted their play, else he might take her on the floor. “We have four or perhaps six weeks, depending on the weather, to become better acquainted aboard ship. Once we arrive in Alexandria, if you reconsider your position, I will let you go, without argument.”

  “And the same goes for you.” She crawled into his lap, her favorite position, and he held her close and licked the curve of her ear. “Although I may issue an argument if you try to leave me.”

  “Is that so?” He laughed and marveled that such a beautiful woman would think him worthy of her. Then again, as Jean Marc asserted, women had a way of making up their own mind. “Just what would you do, Miss Charitye?”

  “Try it, and you will find out.” With her sweet little chin thrust in an imposing position, she did not threaten him, in the least, but when she altered her expression, hugged him about the waist, rested her head to his chest, and sighed a feminine sigh, she waylaid him. “I feel so safe in your arms.”

  “Then that is where you will anchor, now and forever.”

  A brisk wind sifted through her hair, as Charitye stood on the docks in Port Royal, as she tried to recall what happened to her the last time she ventured to that place. Excited to set sail on a new adventure, she bounced on her toes, as two members of Blade’s crew prepared the jolly boat.

  “Have you everything you need?” Maddie clutched Charitye’s hands. “Are you sure I cannot persuade you to wait until after the holidays, to return to Virginia?”

  “We must make a pact to spend Christmas, together, some day, dear friend.” Charitye fought tears. “But I must go home and recover the rest of my past, if I am to move forward.”

  “I understand.” Maddie sniffed. “There is plenty of the special blend of tea that you favor, so much, along with an assortment of scones and shortbread, which should carry you through the journey, because I detest most shipboard fare.”

  “How can I ever thank you for all you have done for me?” Charitye hugged her friend. “I do not know what I would have done without you.”

  “Posh. Keep in touch, and promise you will travel to Boston, to visit us.” Maddie drew a handkerchief from her reticule and daubed the corners of Charitye’s eyes. “Now, stop crying.”

  “All right.” Charitye chuckled. “And you do the same, else I may never depart.”

  “Charitye, it is time.” At the jolly boat, Blade stretched out his arm and flicked his fingers. “Come, sweet, because the tide awaits no man or woman.”

  “Goodbye, Maddie.” Chari
tye claimed one last hug. “I will write you, I promise.”

  “Farewell, Charitye.” Jean Marc bent and kissed the back of her hand. “Safe journey.”

  “Thank you, Jean Marc.” She dipped her chin. “Take care of Maddie.”

  “Always.” He winked and drew his wife to his side. “And you take care of Blade.”

  “That goes without saying.” She rolled her shoulders.

  With that, Charitye faced Blade, and he cast a lopsided grin. “Ready?”

  “As ever.” As he steadied her, she stepped into the jolly boat, and he plopped beside her.

  The sailors took up the oars and rowed the small craft into the harbor.

  “It is not too late to turn back, if you have changed your mind.” He slipped an arm about her waist. “And I will not be angry, because I can always deliver the shipment of sugar and return for you.”

  “Just try and cast off without me, Blade Reyson.” Leaning, she rested against him. “How many times must I tell you that I feel safest in your arms?”

  “It could be because I rescued you.” He gave her a gentle nudge. “Once you are home, and your memory is restored, you may want something else.”

  “I want naught but you.” To prove her point, she tilted her head, and he immediately claimed the kiss she offered. “My most cherished Mr. Reyson, I am yours, if you will have me.”

  “Trust me, I will, once we are married.” He snickered and pinched her bottom through her heavy wool gown and pelisse, and she yelped. “But until then, we will not complicate matters further.”

  “Agreed.” At least, she thought agreed, until they neared the ship, and she noted the name emblazoned on the hull. “Blade, what have you done?”

  “I named my ship for my woman.” She might have taken exception to his smug countenance were she not so completely enamored of him. “Have I pleased you? Because I do so want to please you.”

  “Very much.” For the second time that day, she found herself in tears. “And despite our arrangement, which I support, I will thank you when we are alone.”

  “Now that is an offer I dare not refuse.” As they pulled alongside the Lady Charitye, Blade cupped a hand to his mouth. “On the mainsail hull.”

  At the waist, several sailors appeared, and the oarsmen brought the jolly boat to a halt near a rope ladder. Blade lifted her to the second rung and climbed directly behind her. Together, they ascended to the main deck.

  “Welcome aboard, ma’am. I am Dempsey, the first mate.” Dempsey doffed his hat and then slapped a sailor to his right. “Mind your manners in front of the lady.”

  “It is nice to see you again.” She half-curtseyed. “And I never had the opportunity to thank you for the assistance you provided on the night we met.”

  “Aw, that were nothing, ma’am.” He blushed. “And it was Augie, here, what loaned you the clothes.”

  “I didn’t loan ‘em.” Augie glowered. “You said you would hang me from the highest yardarm if I didn’t give them to you.”

  “Then I am in your debt, Augie.” Again, she curtseyed. “And I am so pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Make your obedience.” Blade arched a brow, and the young sailor saluted. “Dempsey, weigh anchor and make sail.”

  “Aye, sir.” The first make barked orders, and the men sprang into action.

  “Come with me.” Blade grabbed her by the wrist. “My cabin is here, at the waist, and we will share an accommodation, because I am not putting you below decks by yourself.”

  “But, I do not wish to be any trouble.” She skipped in his wake. “And I do not mind.”

  “Well, I mind.” He pushed open a door, swept her across the threshold, and slammed shut the oak panel. “At the very least, it could cost me a good sailor. And this arrangement makes it clear that you are mine, and mine, alone.”

  “This is rather large.” As she recalled from the night he first brought her aboard his ship, she noted the large bunk, a table with four chairs, a large desk strewn with maps and charts, and a washstand in the corner. “What is behind the screen?”

  “Your bunk.” Blade tugged her to the side, and she discovered a smaller bed nailed to the floor, her trunk, and a tiny table. “It is not much, but it is the safest place for you.”

  Just then, a vision formed in her mind.

  Two beds.

  Separate apartments.

  A single sitting room.

  “What is it?” He turned her to face him. “Did you remember something?”

  “Yes.” She rubbed her temples, as a profound truth shot to the fore. “I did not share a room with my husband. In fact, we never occupied the same quarters.”

  “You mean you never shared a bed?” With a furrowed brow, he inclined his head. “You never slept with him?”

  “I did not.” It was as though someone opened a door in her brain, and a series of scenes flashed before her, such that she swayed. “It was as his letter stated. We were as brother and sister, in private. In public, we played our parts to perfection, to protect Reuben.”

  “Bloody hell.” Blade pulled her into his always-reassuring embrace. “Do you recall anything else?”

  “No.” Frustrated by the random nature of her recollections, she wished she could just shake herself and recover her history, in total. “I do not understand what triggers the memories, and it is startling when it happens.”

  “What concerns me is you have yet to remember anything of the blackguard that tried to take your life.” Blade set her apart from him and smacked a fist to a palm. “You know nothing of the circumstances surrounding the attack, and I fear it will take your assailant to provoke you.”

  “But why should that concern me, when I have you?” From the stern windows, she admired the view, as the ship steered for open water, and Port Royal shrank further into the distance. “And while I understand your worries, we left the killer on the island, and we have only our future ahead of us.”

  Also by Barbara Devlin

  BRETHREN OF THE COAST SERIES

  Loving Lieutenant Douglas

  Enter the Brethren

  My Lady, the Spy

  The Most Unlikely Lady

  One-Knight Stand

  Captain of Her Heart

  The Lucky One

  Love with an Improper Stranger

  To Catch a Fallen Spy

  Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me

  The Duke Wears Nada

  Owner of a Lonely Heart (2018)

  BRETHREN ORIGINS

  Arucard

  Demetrius

  Aristide

  Morgan

  Geoffrey (2018)

  PIRATES OF THE COAST

  The Black Morass

  The Iron Corsair

  The Buccaneer

  The Stablemaster’s Daughter

  The Marooner

  Once Upon a Christmas Knight

  The Blood Reaver

  The Reaper

  WORLD OF DE WOLFE PACK

  Lone Wolfe

  The Big Bad De Wolfe

  Tall, Dark & De Wolfe

  OTHER WORKS

  Magick, Straight Up

  A Taste of Magick

  Magick in the Air (2018)

  About Barbara Devlin

  USA Today Bestselling, Amazon All-Star author Barbara Devlin was born a storyteller, but it was a weeklong vacation to Bethany Beach, DE that forever changed her life. The little house her parents rented had a collection of books by Kathleen Woodiwiss, which exposed Barbara to the world of romance, and Shanna remains a personal favorite. Barbara writes heartfelt historical romances that feature flawed heroes who may know how to seduce a woman but know nothing of marriage. And she prefers feisty but smart heroines who sometimes save the hero, before they find their happily ever after. Barbara earned an MA in English and continued a course of study for a Doctorate in Literature and Rhetoric. She happily considered herself an exceedingly eccentric English professor, until success in Indie publishing lured her into writing, full-time,
featuring her fictional knighthood, the Brethren of the Coast.

  Connect with Barbara Devlin at BarbaraDevlin.com, where you can sign up for her newsletter, The Knightly News. And you can find a complete list of books on Barbara’s Amazon Author Page.

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BarbaraDevlinAuthor

  Twitter: @barbara_devlin