Taken by You

by Connie Mason

  Alarm shuddered through Luca. “Did my brothers know how you felt?”

  “Your brothers think I am the soul of kindness and generosity for taking their ruined sister off their hands. Few men would be so forgiving. Besides, the reward they collected for El Diablo greatly eased their consciences.”

  Luca drew herself up defiantly. “I will not marry you. You may keep my dowry. I will return home on the next snip.”

  “And destroy my reputation as an honorable man? Oh, no, querida, this match has been planned a long time. Your father expects it”

  “You still want me after… after…”

  “… after you have been thoroughly corrupted by El Diablo?” he finished crudely. “Your body interests me, Luca, I cannot deny that. You look so innocent, but, ah, such fire beneath the surface. I want to explore that fire, querida. But marriage?” He laughed harshly. “Women like you are good enough for a man’s bed but not to bear his name or children. You shall serve as my mistress.”

  “I will not!” Luca spouted indignantly.

  Don Diego eyed her narrowly. “I wonder,” he mused, “if you protested as much when the pirate made you his whore.”

  She rose abruptly, intending to leave his vile presence.

  “Sit down, querida, do not make a scene before the servants.” He picked up his napkin, shook it out, and lay it across his lap. “We will discuss this further after our meal. I do not wish to have my digestion upset.”

  “I am no longer hungry, Don Diego. If you’ll excuse me I will go to my room and pack. I will be leaving on the next ship available.”

  He grasped her wrist in a brutal grip; the pain wrung a cry from her lips. “Sit down, I said.”

  Luca sat abruptly, rubbing her wrist where his fingers had bruised her flesh.

  He smiled. “That s better.”

  The servants filed in then, serving the elegant meal with all the pomp and ceremony due the governor-general’s lofty status. They ate in silence, Diego gustily and Luca hardly at all. Surprisingly Luca’s fears weren’t for herself but for Morgan. If Diego thought so little of her, how was she ever going to convince him to spare Morgan’s life?

  “We’ll take coffee in my private chamber,” Diego said, pulling out Luca’s chair.

  Luca wished herself anyplace but at Diego’s mercy. How could her father do this to her? How could her brothers leave her at this man’s mercy?

  “Come, querida, there are things we need to discuss.”

  Luca preceded him up the stairs, her heart pounding, her knees weak and rubbery. The only thing she wanted to discuss with Don Diego was Morgan’s release. And she didn’t need the privacy of his chambers to do that. What would she do if he wanted her in his bed tonight? She couldn’t do it! She couldn’t.

  The sitting room of Diego’s personal chamber was small, private, and richly furnished with dark, heavy furniture. The night was warm, and the windows facing an outside gallery were open to catch the ocean breeze. She caught the scent of flowers wafting upward from the walled garden below. She perched gingerly on the edge of a small love seat, watching warily as Don Diego sat down beside her.

  “Now, where were we?” Diego remarked. “Ah, si, I remember.” He reached out and caressed her cheek with the back of his finger. Luca stiffened. A gesture that was meant to be tender felt ugly and vile. “I will enjoy having you for a mistress.”

  “Don Diego, you cannot mean it. My father trusts you. He would be appalled at the way you are treating me.”

  “Don Eduardo left you in my care, Luca. He insulted my pride by offering a dowry I could not refuse. He suspected you were ruined, but he wanted to be rid of you in order to save himself embarrassment over your shameful behavior with the pirate. What I do with you now is entirely up to me.”

  “No, That’s not true! Father expected you to marry me, not shame me.”

  “How can I shame someone who is already a whore?”

  Luca’s face flamed. Unfortunately everyone would judge her the same way Diego had. Yet she felt shockingly little guilt for giving herself to Morgan. That little bit of happiness she’d found in his arms was probably the only happiness she’d ever know in her life. But perhaps, she thought slyly, something could be salvaged from this gross travesty.

  “If I become your mistress will you grant me something in return?” Her bold request caught him by surprise.

  “You are in no position to ask for anything, querida.”

  “Would you prefer a willing mistress? Or one who fights you tooth and nail?”

  He stared at her. “What is it you wish of me? Fancy clothes? Jewels? Gold?”

  “None of those. Free Morgan Scott. I’ll do anything you say, just don’t kill him.”

  Diego sent her a speculative glance. Then he laughed, laughed until his eyes watered. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. “Willing or unwilling, I will take you when it pleases me. As for your infamous El Diablo, his fate is sealed. Tomorrow I will sign the papers for his execution. Within the week Spain will be rid of an enemy.”

  Luca blanched, fighting to remain conscious. “I want to see Morgan before… before…”

  Diego smiled nastily. “How touching. The man must be an amazing lover. But I am better.” He pulled her into his arms, but she struggled violently. He picked her up and started toward his bedroom, but her kicking and punching angered him and he snorted in disgust. “Caramba! Perhaps you will appreciate me once your pirate is consigned to Hell. I am a patient man, I can wait.” He dropped her abruptly. “Get out of here! I’m not in the mood to fight for your favors tonight.”

  Luca picked herself up from the floor and stumbled to the door. “Wait!” he said slyly. She paused to look back at him. His dark eyes narrowed cunningly. “I have changed my mind. You may see your damn pirate. My carriage will be waiting outside at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.” He turned away, and Luca fled the room.

  Morgan shifted uncomfortably on the hard dirt floor. His aches and pains were many and varied, and the vile stench of the straw beneath him made him physically ill. Last night his jailers had come to torment him. His ribs were on fire from their vicious blows, and his face was black-and-blue. There was a cut over his right brow that leaked blood into his eye.

  Chained and helpless, he could not adequately protect himself. When the jailers had finished their sport, he had curled up into a ball and tried to sleep. He awoke this morning feeling as if every bone in his body had been broken. But they hadn’t taken the cat-o’-nine-tails to him and he was grateful.

  It was noon before a meal of sorts was delivered, which Morgan pushed aside with distaste. He knew he was going to die, and he would rather die hungry than eat slops. Death. How final it sounded. If there was anything in his life he would repent of, it was his treatment of Luca. He should have sent her back to the convent like she wanted instead of using her in an act of misguided vengeance against the Spanish. She didn’t deserve his callous treatment. She had been an innocent until she had fallen into his hands, where she had become a victim of his lustful revenge.

  He recalled their hasty wedding aboard the Santa Maria. Luca was his wife; his until death parted them. That thought gave him little comfort.

  He prayed that God would forgive him for taking her against her will. But God knew he couldn’t have kept his hands off her even if he’d wanted to. He had wanted her fiercely, more than any other woman of his acquaintance. And she had desired him. Her passionate response to his loving had proven her need for him. After his demise she would become the bride of the governor-general of Cuba. He’d give his life to save her from such a fate, but it seemed his life was no longer his to give. Soon it would be snuffed out as easily as a candle.

  Morgan’s musings came to an abrupt end when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching his cell. He rose unsteadily to his feet moaning from the effort it cost him. The door flung open and Diego stepped inside. He wrinkled his nose, as if offended by Morgan’s foul stench combined with that of the filthy straw.
The thin mustache above his lip quivered in disgust. He stared at Morgan in open hostility.

  “Good afternoon, Captain. Did you sleep well?”

  Morgan’s lips curled sardonically. “As well as can be expected.”

  “I slept amazingly well. One usually does after a fulfilling night in the arms of a passionate woman. I must commend you on Luca’s performance. Quite spirited, most inventive. You taught her well.”

  “You bastard!” Morgan reached for Don Diego’s throat, but his chains hampered his movement Don Diego stepped back, well out of reach.

  “Did I tell you Luca became my mistress last night? I’m sure you will understand why I cannot marry her after you defiled her. You rendered her unfit to bear my name. But she will do nicely as a mistress. When I find a respectable woman to marry I will give Luca to one of my men, or send her to a brothel.”

  Morgan knew del Fugo was goading him, and it was working. The thought of the Spaniard’s hands on Luca made him want to vomit. “Luca is too good for you.”

  Diego smiled. “Do you think so? Perhaps you’ll change your mind after learning how sweetly she begged me to punish you for ruining her for marriage. She despises you for corrupting her, Captain. If not for your untimely intervention she would have become my wife. Anything she could possibly wish for would have been hers.”

  “Luca never wanted to marry you.”

  “You think not? Perhaps Luca will tell you herself how much she hates you. Do you think I’d trouble myself to have you beaten when you are already under sentence to die? It was Luca’s wish that you be punished and made to suffer for your sins against her. She pleased me so well last night I can deny her nothing. Cortez, bring the cat!”

  A man appeared in the doorway, holding a cat-o’-nine-tails. He handed it to Diego, then stepped aside.

  “Strip the shirt from his back and fasten his chains to the wall!”

  Cortez moved with alacrity, tearing off Morgan’s shirt and affixing his chained wrists to a ring halfway up the moldy wall while Diego held his sword ready should Morgan resist. Morgan barely had time to catch his breath before he heard the cat swish through the air. He braced himself for its bite but still wasn’t prepared for the agony when the separate thongs cut into his flesh. He stiffened and bit his lip to keep from crying out. His back was on fire; he could feel blood dripping down into the waistband of his trousers.

  Diego delivered another vicious blow before Morgan had time to recover from the first. After that he never knew where one left off and the next began. Then abruptly the lashing stopped. Morgan slumped against the chains, scarcely able to lift his head.

  Diego pulled out an immaculate white handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I think Luca will be satisfied with your punishment for one day. We don’t want you to die prematurely. All of Havana is looking forward to your execution tomorrow. A great holiday has been declared. If Luca wishes it, I will visit again tomorrow before your execution and make sure you are properly repentant before you go to meet your maker.”

  Diego’s words burned into Morgan’s brain. The pain of the beating chased all the tender thoughts of Luca from his mind. Luca wanted him punished. Luca was the cause of his unbearable pain. Luca hated him. It wasn’t enough that he was going to the. Bloody Hell, no! The bloodthirsty little witch enjoyed making him suffer. If he got out of this alive, which was highly unlikely, she’d pay, and pay dearly. His last thought before he passed out was that while he may deserve to die for his acts of piracy, he didn’t deserve to suffer this agony for the sake of a vindictive woman.

  It was all so humorous. He had actually begun to love the little witch!

  Chapter 10

  Luca stepped through the ornate entrance to the governor-general’s mansion at exactly three o’clock. The coach Don Diego had promised her was waiting. Her heart was pounding in fear and anticipation as the coachman handed her into the lavish rig. Diego was nowhere in sight, which pleased Luca. She wanted to be alone when she spoke to Morgan. This might be the last time she’d ever see him alive.

  The ride to the prison was very short; Luca realized that she could have walked the distance with no difficulty. The jail was housed in a low building crudely constructed from stone blocks. The only windows were placed high up in the wall where prisoners could see nothing but a speck of sky. She new how miserable Morgan must be, which served only to strengthen her resolve to find a way to help him.

  The coachman flung open the door, and Luca stepped down from the coach. A moment later the door to the calaboose swung wide, and Diego stepped out to greet her. Luca’s composure shattered.

  “Punctual as usual, querida.” He smiled blandly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Interrogating the prisoner.” His smile grew wider. “The pirate was proving most difficult. I’m afraid my men and I were somewhat overzealous in subduing him.”

  Luca’s gaze shifted downward, to the whip held loosely in his right hand. He had kept it hidden behind his back, and she hadn’t noticed it until he had drawn her attention to the weapon He seemed to take unholy pleasure in taunting Luca with what he had done to Morgan.

  “Dios! You’ve beaten him! How could you?”

  Diego’s voice was taut with menace. “How could I not? He stole something from me that cannot be replaced. Before he goes to the gallows tomorrow he will be beaten again, and yet again, until I am satisfied that he has suffered sufficiently. Come along querida, he should have revived from his swoon by now and is ready to take more punishment.”

  “Please, no more beatings,” Luca begged. “Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

  Diego gritted his teeth. “No, not nearly enough.” He gave her a brutal stare, then smiled slyly. ‘It is within your power to help him.”

  “Tell me what I must do! I’ll do anything. Anything.”

  “Then you must tell El Diablo that you have willingly become my mistress. That you hate him and begged me to punish him for ravishing you. You will say that you are glad he is being put to death.”

  A gorge rose up in Luca’s throat. “No! That’s not true!”

  “Nonetheless, you will repeat everything I just said. Otherwise the pirate will be beaten hourly until his death. Is that what you wish for your lover?”

  “Why are you doing this? What can it possibly gain you?”

  “Satisfaction,” Diego said grimly. “I would prefer to dismember him slowly, loping off his hands, his feet, his limbs, making him suffer the agonies of Hell for what he has done to Spain and to you. King Philip cares not how he dies, only that he does so. I am being merciful.”

  Luca swayed, dangerously close to fainting. Diego was a clever fiend. He didn’t know the meaning of mercy. He knew she wouldn’t allow Morgan to be cruelly tortured, that she’d say or do anything to save him from further agony. Even lie.

  “If I do as you say, will you release Morgan?”

  Diego looked at her as if she had two heads. “Release him! Never! What I will do is order the beatings stopped and allow him a dignified death.”

  A sob caught in Luca’s throat. It was so little. Too damn little. But for the sake of a peaceful death she would lie. Then, before Diego took her to his bed, she would join Morgan in death. Living without Morgan was no longer an option.

  “Very well, I will do as you say. May I see Morgan alone?”

  “I do not trust you, querida. We will go together.” He handed the whip to one of the guards and led Luca into the building.

  The fetid odor of death and suffering assailed Luca as she walked through the guard room into the dim, dank corridors of the calaboose. Heavy wooden doors were barred from the outside and thick stone walls separated the individual cells. A small grille low down on each door enabled the guards to pass food through to the prisoners. Diego stopped abruptly before a closed door, and one of the guards hastened to raise the bar.

  “Bring a light,” Don Diego ordered. A light appeared and the door was kicked open.

  T
he light revealed a tableau straight from Hell. When Luca saw Morgan, a scream hovered at the back of her throat. He was still chained to the wall, just as Diego had left him earlier. His back was a mess; livid bruises and numerous cuts slashed deeply across his shoulders and rib cage. Diego squeezed her arm in warning, and her outcry died abruptly in her throat.

  Morgan turned his head slowly toward the light. His body was afire, his head pounding. Cloaked in a haze of stabbing pain, he saw Luca standing beside Diego. She stared at him, saying nothing, and his pain turned into red-hot rage. He wet his lips, trying to summon enough saliva to ease his parched throat.

  “Why did you bring your slut with you, del Fugo? Wouldn’t she take your word that her orders were being obeyed?”

  Diego laughed nastily. “I told her you would not be a pretty sight, but she insisted upon seeing for herself that your punishment was all she wished it to be.” He turned to Luca. “Tell him, querida, tell the good captain exactly what you think of him.”

  Luca closed her eyes and summoned the courage to say the words that would stop Morgan’s torture. “I hate you for what you did to me, Captain.”

  “Come, Luca, isn’t there something more you wish to say?” Diego’s hand tightened brutally on her arm.

  Luca winced. “I am Diego’s mistress. Thanks to you I am not fit to become his wife. He is… he is a wonderful lover.” The last was added more for Diego’s benefit than for Morgan’s. Anything to appease the demented monster and ease Morgan’s suffering.

  Diego sent her a pleased smile. “Ah, you are a treasure, querida. I am well pleased with you, in bed and otherwise. Do you think El Diablo has suffered enough for corrupting your life?”

  “Oh, si,” she said quickly, too quickly to suit Diego. “I am satisfied. His death is all I desire now.”

  Diego’s smile turned sour. “You are too tender, querida. Let us leave this foul place. There are better things we can do with our time than converse with a condemned man.”