The Captain's Conquest

by Baganz, Susan M. ;

  Scallywag had been a decent and relatively quiet companion. But today the lamb fidgeted and would put his front hooves on the seat to look out at Lucy as much as he was able. She rode up closer to the other horses than by the carriage itself.

  He remembered Lucy in her lovely gown, her eyes large and the purest blue. She was like an angel as she forced him to bed and tucked him in. He fell asleep quickly and remembered being comforted, safe and warm throughout the night. He dreamed about holding Lucy and…

  Had she crawled into bed with him? He remembered dreaming of her touch and at just the thought he longed for her. He tried to remember. Did he say anything? Did he…? No. She wouldn’t be riding that horse if he had.

  He fell into a troubled sleep.

  ~*~

  A gunshot roused him from slumber and he reached for his weapon.

  Agnes wisely pressed herself against the corner, out of range of the windows.

  Jared looked out the back and saw nothing. The carriage slowed and he heard Michael yell. Jared reached up to open the small vent behind the bench seat that allowed a passenger to communicate to the driver when needed. He still couldn’t make out what was going on.

  Fiona was whinnying.

  “Jared, we need you.”

  Jared came out of the carriage with his gun and was confronted by two men wearing masks.

  A third red-haired man had lost his mask and was struggling with Lucy. She rammed her knee in a strategic location, and walloped him across the jaw, sending him to the ground.

  Michael held his rifle aimed at the two men on the horses.

  Jared stood by the carriage with the pistol.

  “Stand down, men,” Michael bellowed.

  The men dropped their weapons, turned their horses, and ran the other way.

  Michael fired a shot over their heads.

  Both Jared and Michael aimed now at the man Lucy had wrestled to the ground and was now pummeling.

  Michael jumped down and handed the reins to Jared as he ran to save the man from Lucy. “Luke, I think you’ve beaten him up enough to realize that he cannot take your horse.” Michael pulled Lucy away from the man and aimed his rifle. “I suggest that if you want to avoid a hanging or a bullet you mount up and head out as fast as your friends did. And pray that we never see your mug again.”

  The man stumbled to his horse and struggled to mount as the animal danced away from him with every attempt. Half on and half off the man was almost dragged away until he gained his seat and urged the horse to a gallop.

  Michael turned to Lucy. He shook his head. “Do you feel better now?”

  She shook her head.

  Michael surveyed her about any other injuries.

  When she turned to lead Fiona back towards the carriage, Jared was shocked to see the bruise developing on her cheek and around her left eye that was swollen almost shut.

  Michael went to tie the horse to the back with Rogue.

  Lucy sank to her knees by the side of the road and cast up her accounts.

  Jared was still holding the reins. After the anger of the morning he doubted Lucy would want anything to do with him now.

  Agnes exited the carriage, went to Lucy, and pointed to a spot on her arm. Lucy shook her head but Agnes argued with her. Lucy removed her coat. Blood soaked through one sleeve near her shoulder.

  “You were shot?” he bellowed.

  Lucy turned to him. “And what if I was? You could go to London as a widower, collect my inheritance, and retire to your estate single and happy to be rid of your wife so easily.” She stomped past him and entered the carriage in a huff with Agnes following.

  Michael came to take the reins. “She’s still spittin’ mad so I would tread carefully for the sake of the family jewels.” Michael smirked.

  Jared gave him a shove in the shoulder before he entered the carriage and shut the door. Soon they were back on their way.

  Lucy was spewing words he did not understand at a rapid pace and occasionally looked his way. Agnes ripped the sleeve off the shirt and bound it, occasionally responding in Gaelic.

  He thought he had seen her angry before, but instead of relaxing after the fight, she was wound up. He kept his mouth shut more out of fear than anything else.

  Her face turned pale and she slid to the floor of the carriage, which did not please Scallywag a whit.

  16

  Jared and Agnes lifted Lucy to his seat. He pulled her close. Her pulse was slow and steady. He laid her on her side on the bench with her head in his lap.

  “You realize she’ll not be any less angry when she comes to.” Agnes resumed her sewing.

  “I know.”

  Each breath caused a slow rise and fall of her shoulder. The black and blue deepened in color around her face.

  He rubbed a smudge of dust off her pert little nose and then he played with her silky hair. Was there ever a woman more perfect for him than her?

  If only her father was not the Duke of Diamonte—his archenemy.

  Jared left a hand resting on her hip lest she roll off the bench and the other in her hair as he leaned back into the squabs and closed his eyes.

  Lucy slept the rest of the way to Coulter and the men took turns guarding her as they escorted Agnes and sought refreshment. Water skins were filled and some food purchased for Lucy if she awakened later. The horses had a rest and some food and water, and they were on their way again.

  Jared wondered at Lucy sleeping so long. “Are her injuries worse than we thought?”

  Agnes shrugged. “The cut above her eye and that bruise were not made by a fist. A boot or the butt of a gun perhaps.”

  “She could have a concussion.”

  “That is a possibility. May I suggest that she become your wife again so when a doctor is called her secret is not questioned?”

  “How can we do that?”

  Agnes shook her head. “She is unconscious. I just finished one of her dresses here as well as mended one of her camisoles. We can change her here in the carriage.”

  Jared shook his head to clear it. “Now?” He gulped. “You want me to help?”

  Agnes frowned. “For a married man, you are quite dense. Yes. Now. With her limp like this I could not do it on my own regardless, so either you help or I call for Sir Michael.”

  Jared shook his head and gulped. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Captain Allendale, before you get all flustered, realize that while you were sick no one else cared for you but her. All your needs. Now, as her husband, you can return the favor.”

  Jared nodded and proceeded to undress his unconscious wife.

  ~*~

  When she was clothed and once again resting on his lap he marveled at the change with the lace and frills of a pretty dress. Even with her short hair, she was most definitely a woman. Not that he ever had any doubts.

  He thought back to Agnes’s comments. With all that they had gone through there was no escaping this marriage. He had too thoroughly compromised his wife even though he had refused her every push to consummate the union. He wondered at that. Would his accounting before the Duke of Wellington be any more severe for having done so? No one would believe him anyway once they saw her dainty beauty. She was his pixie bride full of light and laughter and she was the perfect partner for a man like him.

  He leaned back and smiled as he contemplated the rest of their journey. He hoped it would be far more enjoyable now that he made up his mind.

  He insisted on carrying his wife to their room and a doctor was called. He cared for her needs and his heart filled with tenderness as she rested so peacefully and innocent in his arms when he finally crawled into bed. He would wait. She would get better and they would come to an agreement about their marriage that would satisfy everyone. Well, except perhaps the Duke of Wellington. Did it matter?

  He had to admit that it did. It mattered a lot. Why was his pride so wrapped up in a successful mission? Because he’d failed once? He never gave up the secrets, but the consequences o
f his failure continued to haunt him in the dark.

  ~*~

  Lucy woke, reached for the edge of the bed, and retched. Her head pounded, her left eye didn’t want to open all the way and it ached. Her arm burned. She dropped her head back to her pillow and rolled right into a solid wall of muscle.

  “Good morning, my pixie bride.” She glanced up to see Jared’s perfect teeth, the straw-colored stubble on his jaw and chin, and those startlingly light blue eyes that glittered like jewels. Her skin tingled underneath his hand that rubbed her back and drew her closer into his embrace.

  “What happened?”

  “You were angry with me and took it out on a would-be horse thief.” He pulled her closer.

  She sighed into his embrace as she fell back asleep.

  ~*~

  When she awoke later, she was alone in the bed.

  Jared sat by the fire, elbows on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. Would she ever not love this man?

  “Water,” she managed to gasp out through her dry mouth.

  Jared brought her up from the pillow and helped her drink.

  Hadn’t she just spent days doing this for him?

  “I need the chamber pot.”

  He pulled it out and helped her from the bed. “Can you manage? I’ll go over here and promise not to watch.”

  She took care of herself, drank some more water, and collapsed back on the bed. Her stomach growled. “You can turn around now. Thank you.”

  He came to her side with a half-smile. “Anything for my pixie bride.”

  Anger stirred within her as the memories came flooding back. “Is Fiona weel then?”

  “Yes, she was uninjured.”

  “How long have I been like this?”

  “Two days. If the doctor clears you, we will travel again tomorrow to Lockerbie.”

  “That would be nice. Can I get something to eat?”

  “I will see to it.”

  ~*~

  The next morning, they departed in the carriage at as early an hour as possible with a picnic lunch packed.

  Jared insisted she rest on his lap and it felt so—intimate—to do so. She admitted it was comfortable as he would massage her back, or rest his hand on her hip as his other hand would play with her hair and massage her scalp. She was soon asleep.

  Late that night she managed to walk on Jared’s arm to their room and undress herself.

  Jared came in later, stripped down to his unmentionables, and crawled into bed beside her. He snuggled her to his chest.

  She rested one hand on his heart which beat steady underneath. She lifted her face up to his, caressed his cheek, and reached up to kiss his lips.

  He returned the kiss and pulled away, kissed her nose and her forehead, and snuggled her close to himself once again.

  She wanted…but she was still recovering from her fight and wasn’t really ready now. For once she appreciated his restraint.

  ~*~

  Jared was in agony. Even if this was all he could ever have of her he would strive to be content with that. If he held her in his arms every night…maybe he would be freed of his nightmares. She was like a shield that kept them at bay with her very touch. He feared he was fast losing his status as a gentleman, keeping his wife in limbo like this yet living in every way possible as her husband.

  It also shocked him when he had seen the tattoo of a diamond on her shoulder. The duke branded his own daughter with his symbol in some twisted act of possession. In a weird way it made him want her more, to keep her, protect her, and make her smile.

  Her injury allowed Lord Winter to get ahead of them on their journey south, as Michael went around talking late at night, visiting other posting houses and discreetly asking questions.

  Jared suddenly realized that his friend was also now his brother-in-law.

  They needed a real wedding. They were married but it didn’t feel legal because they had not had the ceremony. Maybe if they could cross that hurdle his conscience would permit him to take Lucy as his true wife.

  It was three more days before they reached Newcastle-under-Lyme.

  Jared had been here once before, not six months hence, and realized he was more familiar with it than she was. He led her up the stairs.

  The butler opened the door and exclaimed, “Lady Penelope, you have come at last!”

  Lucy took in her childhood home.

  “Does any of this look familiar?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “None of it.”

  The housekeeper gave them a tour and a running dialogue of Penelope’s childhood antics and stories about her beautiful mother. A portrait of their family hung in the drawing room and Lucy stared at it, only recognizing her mother. “Michael, were you not acknowledged?”

  Her half-brother shook his head. “I only learned of the relationship recently. Our father knew about me but forbade my mother from speaking of it. She never married.”

  “We can stay here tonight if you wish it,” Michael offered. “Theo and Valeria are not in residence. The property is now under Lord Harrow’s administration until Dartanian comes of age. He is your nephew.”

  “No. No. I’m sorry, I know it costs money to stay at a posting inn but I cannot stay here.” She ran out the front door and into the carriage where Jared found her sobbing.

  “My pixie bride.” He closed the door and pulled her into his arms.

  She pulled back as her body shuddered with sobs. “I don’t know why I’m crying. Why the place upset me so. I can’t stay there. It’s evil. If it were my home I would burn it to the ground.”

  Jared frowned. “You have no memory of your childhood here, so why…?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Jared held her close. “You do not ever have to return here again if you don’t want to.”

  “Promise?”

  “As long as it is within my power to do so, yes, I promise.”

  Lucy tilted her face up to receive his kiss and he poured his heart into it.

  ~*~

  “There is still time,” Lord Winter told his men. “We must grab her before it is too late. It would not do to kill Sir Tidley or Captain Allendale or we will have the entire British military on us like lice.” He waved his hand. “Get her and do not fail this time. We cannot let our opportunity pass. She is mine.”

  17

  Lucy reveled in the scent of sage and man as Jared carried her to their room that evening. He set her feet on the floor and she reached up to receive his kiss. She untied his cravat as he tried to unfasten the back of her dress. She purred and Jared chuckled, a sound that resonated deep in his chest. Maybe tonight…

  ~*~

  The next morning Jared awoke her with a lingering kiss. She smiled. There would be no annulment. They had crossed that barrier between them in more ways than one. He had cared for her so gently and she looked forward to a lifetime of nights in his arms.

  “We need to rise and be on our way, my pixie bride.”

  “I do love it when you call me that, but I have no special name for you.”

  He grinned at her. “Maybe in time you will.”

  They dressed and ate in their room. Lucy could not stop smiling. When they went down to the carriage, Michael turned to her. She winked at him and a broad smile crossed his features. He placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered in her ear, “I’m happy for the both of you.”

  Jared scowled at Michael.

  Lucy playfully slapped his arm. “He’s my brother.”

  Michael slapped Jared’s other arm. “I’m glad I don’t need to shoot you. Now make sure you keep my sister happy.”

  A slow smile emerged on Jared’s face and a tinge of pink as well.

  Lucy ducked her head, entered the carriage, and reached for her husband’s hand when he sat next to her. That touch alone made her wish they would reach their next stop as quickly as possible.

  Agnes eyed them and nodded. “’bout time, ye got down ter business, Captain.”

  Jared�
�s blue eyes twinkled as he looked at Lucy. “Yes, ma’am, ‘bout time indeed.”

  ~*~

  Lucy held tight to Jared’s hand. Her extra sensitive spirit warned her that danger was ahead. She had no proof, so would Jared and Michael take her seriously? She removed her sketchpad and a pencil from her bag and began to draw. She looked up to see Jared watching her intently.

  “You are anxious, Luce. What’s afoot?”

  “Trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “You believe me?”

  Jared smiled. “Sprite, you drew a detailed picture of me before you met me. I need no more convincing that you possess unusual gifts.”

  Lucy found comfort in his gaze and continued to sketch. She handed it to Jared when she was finished.

  The frown deepened and lines appeared on his forehead. He opened the door to speak to Michael. The carriage slowed. Jared climbed out to talk to her brother.

  Agnes remained silent.

  Lucy studied her. “I’m glad you’ve been along on this journey.”

  “’Tis me pleasure, m’lady.”

  “I don’t know when I will ever get used to that.”

  “Mayhap, never.” The woman went back to her sewing and hummed a Gaelic tune as she did so.

  The sound grated on Lucy’s nerves, setting her on edge. When Jared opened the door to the carriage again, she jumped. “Oh! It’s you.”

  “Sorry, we’ve had a change of plans and I hate to inconvenience you, my pixie bride, but I need your assistance.”

  Jared removed familiar items from a trunk and led Lucy into the woods. “Jared?”

  “I’m sorry, but Michael and I feel that you and I would be safer on horseback and should travel a less direct path to Stratford in case your sketch is real.”

  “But if Michael is set upon, he will be alone.” She changed into her young boy outfit and balled her dress and shoes up.

  “He won’t be alone.” Jared handed her a pistol. “We’ll be shadowing him but from a bit further ahead.” He kissed her forehead. “This will not be comfortable for you and I apologize for that. If I had known, then last night…”