She let out a faltering breath. “Will ye please tell me what happened?”
“Perhaps another time, Missus MacTavish. I am not in a mood to speak about such things. Not with ye at any rate.”
She recoiled as if he’d hit her and a part of him was sorry for it. “Dorian, tell me that ye’ve forgiven me. Call me Ileana.”
“I cannot say I have, Missus MacTavish. I prefer to call ye by the name that reminds me of why I left my life behind.”
She visibly sagged and looked down to her clutched hands. “My life wasn’t much better, I venture to wage…”
“Did ye share yer food with rats, Ileana? Were ye chained to a wall for months? I bet ye never had to sit in yer own shite for days nor did ye get flogged in exchange for water.” He sneered at her. “When was the last time ye were beaten so badly ye lost consciousness and regained it while still being beaten?”
Ileana was sobbing at this point and Reginald, who’d returned, pulled Dorian back. “Enough. Let her be. I will take her.”
Reginald knew better than to reproach him. Instead, he patted Dorian’s shoulder. “Ye should rest, Captain.”
When Reginald took the sobbing Ileana from his quarters, he threw the closest thing, a brass vase, against the wall. “Damn ye.”
He’d not sleep, not yet, perhaps not that night at all. So he made his way up to the deck where the men continued working as the sun fell behind the horizon. The darkened silhouettes of his crew moved hither and yon.
“Tis a nice eve, aye, Captain?” Short called out from the ropes of one of the masts.
“Indeed,” Dorian called back. To a recently released man, it would be the perfect ending to a day. The sea was calm and the wind strong. If the next day were the same, he hoped to come across a ship to pillage. He needed the action, the distraction for his crew and, perhaps, it would be a good way to get rid of Ileana.
Connor was at the wheel when he approached. “Have ye seen any other ships?”
“Nay. Other than a slave vessel one day past. Considered freeing them for sport, but it was heavily-armed.”
He didn’t like the sale of humans any more than Connor, but there were times it was best not to interfere. Dorian looked across the bow of the ship. “In two weeks, we will be well on our way to the Caribbean.”
“And rum,” Connor said as they would purchase rum and spices to sell to the English. The Englishman shrugged. “Unless we find a bounty that brings us a better price.”
“Mmm,” Dorian murmured wondering what Reginald was doing. As if summoned, the older man appeared. He turned to look up to where Dorian stood and made his way up the ladder.
“May I have a word with ye, Captain?”
“Of course.” Dorian walked away from Connor. “What is it?
Chapter Seven
MORNING BROUGHT WITH it cloudy skies and rain. Ileana shuddered at spending an entire day cloistered. She’d grown used to her evening walks on the deck with Reginald.
The first scream made Ileana jump to her feet. From just outside the doorway, she could hear the sharp sound of a whip and a second cry. Afraid, she raced to the opening to see if Lily or Gregor were about.
Just then, Lily came behind her with Gregor in tow. “Reginald is being whipped,” Lily cried. “I overheard in the galley that the captain ordered it.”
A third snap followed by a muffled cry came next and Ileana pushed Lily back. “Take Gregor to the chamber.”
She ran to the main deck to a heartbreaking scene. Several men circled a center pole where Reginald had been tied. Just as she neared, a fourth snap and cry made her falter.
Dorian stood above, his gaze intent on the actions below. “One more,” he called out.
“Stop it!” Ileana hurried to where Reginald was, but was not fast enough to stop the fifth lashing.
Without speaking, the man who wielded the whip, wrapped it around his hand and walked away. The other crewmen watched as Ileana went to the now faltering Reginald and attempted to free him.
“Help me,” she snapped at one and he did as he was told, but not before looking up to where the captain was.
With the same man’s help, she was able to get Reginald to a small cabin and lay him face down on a cot. “What happened?” she asked the man. He simply shrugged.
“Disobeyed a captain’s order.”
She didn’t bother asking what the order was. Instead, she began tearing a large cloth into pieces. “Can ye bring me water please? And some rum or whiskey.”
Once the man left, she wiped Reginald’s sodden hair from his face. “What did ye do? Was it my fault?”
His gaze met hers. “My daughter would be yer age right now.”
“Tell me, Reginald.”
The other man had returned and began speaking. “He asked that ye would be brought to him last night. Reginald didn’t so as ordered.”
Ileana took the water and poured half it over Reginald’s back, washing away the blood. It seemed whoever did the whipping had held back as most of the welts were not as bad as they could’ve been. She dipped the cloth in the alcohol. “This will sting, but will help ye to heal.”
Reginal hissed when she wiped at his wounds with the cloth and she murmured reassuringly to him. Finally, once she was satisfied that all was cleaned, Connor arrived and helped wrap Reginald’s torso.
“Ye should return to yer cabin. I will ensure he is well.” Connor was somber, his gaze barely meeting hers.
It was all her fault. Now the men would dislike her being there even more. Ileana stalked to Dorian’s room and, without knocking, barged in.
Standing at the table, he looked up. He appeared to be surprised at her abrupt entrance. Without waiting for him to speak, she began undressing. “Take me. Do what ye will. That ye abuse yer authority and punish a noble man makes ye a detestable…”
“Pirate?” he finished, not seeming at all bothered by her tirade. “Don’t.” He motioned when she continued to remove her clothes.
Ileana was too angry to stop. First she removed her shoes, followed by her stockings. She tugged at the strings of her bodice until she was finally able to untie the bindings. How many times had she stood naked before Fergus, while he toyed with her by asking stupid questions? Each time, she’d felt low and unworthy.
Now would be no different. It wasn’t as if she were worth enough for a man to be flogged over.
Finally, her skirts pooled around her feet and she stood fully nude before him. Slowly, he lifted his eyes from her feet up her legs to linger at her sex. As his eyes traveled, she trembled. It was not from fear, but in reaction to how this man could so coldly order something so callous and in the same hour become interested in her body.
“Put yer clothes back on.” His green gaze met hers. “Leave my chamber.”
“I will not. If ye require me in yer bed, that is where I will be. It was important enough for ye to have a man flogged.”
She walked to the bed and climbed upon it, her defiant glare met his. The battle of wills began.
“It wasn’t about ye as much as him disobeying me. He knew the consequences.” Once again, his gaze traced a path down her body. “Who is to say I meant for us to join?”
“Why else does a man want a woman brought to him at night?”
“I am going to ask ye one last time. Leave my chamber.” His darkened eyes met hers.
“No.”
Dorian untied the tunic laces and, one piece at a time, removed his clothes. Unable to draw her gaze from him, she watched as he divulged a body rippled with muscles and scars. There was what looked to be a deep healed puncture on his left side. His upper right thigh had another healed scar that ran from his hip down to mid-thigh.
When he turned sideways, she caught sight of his back and gasped. It was crisscrossed with lash marks.
He didn’t speak, but instead climbed into the bed and pulled her under him. Without ceremony, he pushed her legs apart and guided himself to her center.
“Tell me to stop.�
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Ileana remained still, her eyes locked to his. Dorian thrust into her and both gasped.
She wasn’t ready for the intrusion and couldn’t keep from crying out when he pushed in further, sinking in to the hilt. After a moment, he began pulling out and driving back in. In and out, he continued plunging until his breathing became labored. Finally, he began to shudder, pulled out and spilled his seed across her lower stomach.
Ileana remained without moving not sure what to do. Of all the things, she never would have thought Dorian would take her. He rolled off of her to lay beside her.
“Remain here,” he instructed, dousing the lamp next to the bed.
OVER THE YEARS, he’d resisted many a woman. Only a few had he ever bedded and, each time, it had been out of pure need. This time, however, Dorian wasn’t sure why he’d done it.
Yes, he did. He wanted to punish and hurt her. For the past and for forcing him to order Reginald’s whipping.
His hand had been forced by the man who’d refused to bring her to him the night before. If he’d not punished Reginald, then his crew would get wind that someone disobeyed him and he’d allowed it. That he became weak. In his line of work, a weak captain did not last long.
Damn the old man, he’d known the price.
“Dorian?” her soft voice made him wince. She maintained a distance between them and it suited him fine.
“What.”
“Please don’t hurt Reginald again. He is a good man and admires ye so.”
“I know my crew. Do not think that because ye lay upon my bed I will listen to anything ye spout.”
“Nay. I have learned over the years that I am not worth much. Especially not a good man being flogged because of me.”
Not worthy? Why would she think it so?
“Did yer husband ensure ye understood this to be?”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Aye, on plenty of occasions I was forced to learn, until I came to believe it. I now know my true value.”
“And it is?”
“Nothing.”
ILEANA WOKE UP to find the bed empty and the lamp lit. She stretched, having enjoyed the plush bedding for one night. Despite her expecting that Dorian would take her again, he had not and fallen asleep with his back to her. Numb is how she would describe her emotions as she dressed and braided her hair quickly, hoping to leave before being seen.
Lily, of course, would know where she’d been. But, hopefully, no one else would.
If Dorian would require her company often, she’d have to find a way to keep from being hurt by his actions. Although Fergus had explained to her that men did not find women to be anything more than a toy, something to own and use at will, she’d always held on to the feeling that with Dorian it had been different.
This Dorian was not unlike her husband, taking what he wished, dishing out cruel punishments for the slightest of wrongdoings and treating her as if she were but a body without feelings or a mind.
When she entered the small, cramped space she shared with Gregor and Lily, the maid rushed to her. “Are ye hurt?”
“He did not hurt me. Not physically.” She couldn’t help the tear that escaped and she wiped it quickly away. “He is not the man I once knew.”
Lily shook her head. “Tis a shame then for ye described him as a true gentleman.”
“Folly. My imagination made him better. I am sure that, as a young lass with no experience, I believed him to be above reproach. After being torn apart, I held on to that belief because I wished it to be so.”
Gregor climbed on her lap. Putting his thumb in his mouth, he sighed contently and lay his head on her chest.
Thank goodness her son did not seem to suffer the same fate of boredom and worry that befell her and Lily.
“Did he say anything about England?”
Ileana searched her mind for what Dorian had said. “No, but he did say he would find a port where we can purchase safe passage. I am not sure we can trust that he will.”
ONE DAY PASSED after another, each no different than the one before. Dorian did not call Ileana back to his chamber and a part of her was sad for it. She’d hoped to be able to speak to him and discover if a part of the young man she’d once loved remained encased in the hard shell.
Reginald recovered and, astonishingly, did not bear ill will toward Dorian, which angered Ileana. How could he forgive such a thing?
“I disobeyed him, refusing to do as he asked and did so publically,” Reginald explained one day as they walked on the deck at the end of the day. Lily was about as well, but had walked off with Connor and Gregor.
“He is a cruel man. Without any humanity.” Ileana tried in vain to show Reginald the error in the way he thought.
In response, Reginald chuckled and grimaced. “Any other man would have received ten lashes. And Liam held back. He did barely break the skin.”
“Ye act as if both did ye a favor.”
Reginald steered her toward the front of the ship, close to the main deck but out of sight from where the captain stood.
“Our crew is small, just enough to live comfortably on the ship. We each have a small, but private space, which is unheard of. Our food is edible and not filled with vermin waste. Although our fresh water is nary plentiful, we have more than most. The men are healthy and well paid. Do ye notice any ill content?”
She watched as men sat about singing along as one played the fiddle. They did seem a happy lot.
Reginald got her attention again. “Most ships are overcrowded and often the crew is undernourished and live in cabins so dirty they die of the diseases caused by it. Captain MacAlpin stands for none of it. We work hard to keep the ship pristine and acquire food stuffs that will keep for long periods of time.”
DORIAN WALKED DOWN the steps and hesitated upon feeling something touch his boot. If it were to be rat, the men would answer for neglecting their duties. He jumped down to the deck and peered under the stairs.
“Da,” the wee child was about again. The boy was alone and he didn’t seem a bit distraught about it. Instead, the lad grinned broadly and held out a piece of tack to him. “Eat.”
“No,” Dorian replied and pushed the small hand back.
For whatever reason, his action brought the boy to laugh gaily. “No eat!” Once again he held out the hard bread to Dorian. “Eat.”
“No, ye eat it.” Dorian once again pushed the boy’s hand away.
Filled with mirth, the child laughed and hiccupped. “Eat!” he yelled again holding the now crumbling tack out.
The child resembled his mother, with golden hair and golden eyes. When he smiled, a dimple formed in his left cheek just like his mother.
When Dorian tugged him from under the stairs, the boy came willingly. “Da.” He laid his head on Dorian’s shoulder and he allowed it. It would be cruel to push the boy away for running amok, Dorian justified, looking around to ensure no one saw.
“I’m so sorry, Milord.” Lily came running and grabbed the boy from him. “He is so quick. I turned my back but for a moment.” The flushed girl peered up at him with frightened eyes. “I will keep him in our quarters for the rest of the day.”
“No need. As long as ye keep him in sight, he may remain. Wee lads require fresh air.”
The boy held out the tack to him again. “Eat.”
He pushed the boy’s hand away. “No.”
The child dissolved into giggles as Lily hurried away with him.
Dorian continued on to the deck where the men were singing. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed time with his crew. Although sadness enveloped him nightly, it became easier to get through each day. The night Ileana had stayed in his bed was the first night he’d slept soundly in quite a while. Somehow, her presence had soothed him more than any night since his mother’s death.
Now, he wanted her to join him again. Yet, at the same time, he didn’t. If they were ever to share a bed again, it would be because she wanted to, not to pay a debt or ask for any f
avor of him.
He didn’t feel remorse for what he’d done. The sex had been a release of his anger and his body. However, he did hate the action of having done it as much as he’d hated watching Reginald be flogged.
In his life, there wasn’t any room for regret now. It would be his undoing the day he allowed emotions to rule his every thought.
“Captain MacAlpin, do ye wish to come to the galley?” Cane, the cook, hurried to him. “I made cake.”
“Cake?”
He’d always loved sweets and it was a rare treat that Cane found it in his miserly heart to make cake or any kind of what he referred to as “frivolous” food.
“Aye, I got a recipe from the mistress and she helped me make it.”
“Very well.” Dorian followed him to the galley, entering and sitting down where Kevin was already sitting. Next to him were Reginald and Ileana.
She didn’t look to him.
“Missus MacTavish, how fare ye today?”
“Very well, thank ye, Captain MacAlpin,” she replied curtly.
Cake was slipped in front of them and Cane waited with expectancy for him to take the first bite. He lifted a small piece to his mouth with four pairs of eyes tracking his movement and ate it. It was some sort of wonderful concoction flavored with rum. “Tis delicious. Please tell yer wife I thank her for it.”
Cane laughed, which was rare and the sound was harsh and alarming. “Twas not my wife who instructed me, Captain, but the missus here.” He motioned to Ileana who took great interest in the plate set before her.
“I thank ye then, Missus MacTavish. Very well done.” She had no choice but to meet his gaze as she nodded slowly.
He hurried to finish the cake. Unfortunately, both Reginald and Kevin took their pieces in hand and left. No doubt, they’d had some sort of silent communication between them that he didn’t notice.
He looked to Ileana. “Is it yer intent to charm my entire crew?”
“I only try to make myself useful. Repay them for what they do for Lily, Gregor and me.”
“What are ye going to do to repay me for allowing ye to remain on board?” The question was not exactly what he planned to say, but a part of him needed to find out what she’d answer.
Pirates of Britannia Boxed Set Volume One: A Collection of Pirate Romance Tales Page 14
