The Buccaneer

by Donna Fletcher

  "Bah," Santos said with a wave of his hand. "Catherine is much stronger then you give her credit for. Send her father packing, marry Catherine, and return peace to Heaven."

  "If he suggests one more time that she return to England, I may just do that."

  Santos smiled. "I'll tell the crew to ready his ship."

  Lucian laughed.

  "At least someone is laughing," Zeena said, walking out onto the veranda.

  "What's wrong?" Lucian asked, his thoughts immediately of Catherine.

  "That father of hers is insisting she'd get better care in England during her delivery and that she should return for her baby's sake."

  "He's upsetting her?" Lucian asked standing.

  "Very much," Zeena insisted angrily. "Her hands are shaking and she looks close to tears."

  "That does it," Lucian said, and stormed to the parlor where he knew all of them would be waiting before supper.

  o0o

  "Think on it, Catherine," her father said. "If there is a problem with the delivery there would be a trained physician to tend you. Not some island native."

  "She's not going anywhere," Lucian said, marching into the salon and straight up to Abelard. "Catherine is staying here with me."

  "Don't be so selfish," Abelard said, not backing away from Lucian's imposing stature.

  "You are the one who is selfish," Lucian accused. "Have you bothered to ask Catherine if she wishes to leave here? Have you bothered to notice how much you've upset her since your arrival?"

  "She requested that I come. She wrote that she needed me."

  "For what reason, Abelard? Think about it. For what reason?"

  "Because I am her father and she trusts me."

  "You're a fool," Lucian snapped. "She told you plainly the day of your arrival that she wished us to talk. That is the reason she sent for you. Not for herself, but for you and me."

  "At the moment my concern is for her and her condition, and as the father of her child you should be —"

  "I will take care of Catherine and my child. Your opinion doesn't matter."

  "I'm her father," Abelard shouted, turning a furious red.

  "Her stepfather," Lucian corrected. "And a poor excuse for one."

  "Enough," Catherine cried out. "I've had enough."

  Lucian turned. She stood in front of the settee striking in all white with a white ribbon entwined intricately with her braid.

  "The bickering has been endless, driving everyone within this house crazy. And it is all my fault."

  Her father attempted to speak; she silenced him with a wave of her hand. "I will have my say, Papa. I thought you both cared enough for me to end this torment. But both of you are so stubborn that I find myself having to issue an ultimatum."

  Lucian raised a brow in warning.

  She shook her head at him. "It will be my way or else."

  "Have your say, Catherine, but don't think you will be leaving this island," Lucian said forcefully.

  Catherine forged ahead, realizing she had no other choice and hoping she wouldn't be forced to carry out her threat. "Settle this thing between you tonight or tomorrow I sail for England with Aunt Lilith and Dulcie. Once there I will reside with my aunt, never speaking to either of you again."

  "Catherine," Lucian threatened furiously through clenched teeth.

  She held up her hand to him, her green eyes pleading softly and turned her attention to her father. "Tell him, Papa."

  Abelard gasped. "You know."

  "Yes, I know, and now he must hear it from you or I will" — she took a deep fortifying breath — "never call you Father again."

  Her remark shocked Lucian as did her strong defense of him. At that moment Lucian realized the extent of her love for him and he felt his heart swell with the same unconditional love for her.

  "I'm willing to talk with you, Abelard," Lucian offered.

  Catherine sent him a grateful smile. "Papa?" she said, looking to him.

  Abelard nodded slowly.

  Catherine walked up to her father and kissed his cheek and then she walked over to Lucian and kissed his lips. "This is difficult for him. You will understand why shortly. Please remember how loving someone can hurt," she whispered, and fled the room, her aunt following.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The door clicked shut behind Catherine. The two men stood alone.

  "A drink?" Lucian offered.

  Abelard declined. "I want a clear head when we speak."

  "Then shall we begin?" Lucian suggested, and directed him to two high-back chairs arranged alongside each other near an open window.

  Abelard sat silent, staring at Lucian.

  Lucian waited, judging by Catherine's words that the tale the older man had to tell wasn't going to be easy for him. He took some comfort in knowing that whatever it was Abelard had done, he had been troubled by it these many years.

  "I knew your mother," Abelard began.

  "Well?"

  "Yes. She was a beautiful woman. You have her strange hair coloring."

  "I remember my mother's hair, though it was touched with gray the last time I saw her," he said sadly, recalling their last good-bye.

  "Your mother and father's marriage was arranged. Marissa never loved Elliot, your father."

  "I never thought my parents loved each other. They accepted their position in life as so many did."

  Abelard nodded. "True enough. But your father grew bitter over the years. He had loved a woman. A woman not befitting his station. His father warned him that if he chose to marry her, he would disinherit him. Elliot went into the marriage with your mother blaming her for preventing him from marrying the woman he loved."

  Lucian listened, wondering what all this nonsense had to do with him. Many men were forced to marry women they didn't like, much less love. His parents had been no different. He had understood that from a young age. And from a young age he had known his father had mistresses.

  "Your father kept the woman he loved as his mistress after Marissa and he were wed. She died in childbirth, leaving him a son. As the years passed his hatred for your mother grew as did his hatred for you."

  Lucian looked at him oddly. He had known no love for his father, but hatred for his own son? That was surprising and hard to understand.

  "Your mother contacted me, fearful for your life."

  "My life?" he asked oddly.

  "Yes." Abelard choked back the pain. "Your mother begged me to help protect you."

  "From who?"

  "Elliot. He wanted his illegitimate son to inherit his title and land. Fearing that Elliot would have you murdered, Marissa asked me to find a way to protect you and help her petition the court to secure your inheritance."

  "So you falsified documents of my debt to you," Lucian said.

  Abelard nodded. "I could control how long you were away from England and return you when it was safe."

  "What went wrong?" Lucian asked, realizing a quirk of fate had condemned him.

  Abelard's voice nearly caught on a sob. "You were to be assigned to my best and most trustworthy captain. All was settled. You would be safe." He shook his head, casting his glance to the carpet at his feet. "The captain was killed by a robber the night before the ship was to sail. My agent handling the vessel had to find a replacement immediately. There was no time for a proper and thorough check on the man. He was assigned to the ship and hastily told you were to be treated exceptionally well."

  "I think he misunderstood the order," Lucian said with controlled anger.

  "No, he did not. I discovered too late that he was a vile creature who hated the genteel. And by the time I did attempt to return you to England, the ship had already been captured by pirates."

  "An interesting story," Lucian remarked. "But I'm confused. You're telling me my own father hated me enough to want me dead?"

  Abelard stood and walked to the open window. "Yes, I am."

  "Not a good enough explanation," Lucian stated calmly. "I want to know what
you aren't telling me."

  Abelard rubbed his temple. "I had promised your mother those many years ago I would never reveal the secret."

  Lucian stood, impressive in his size and dressed like a gentleman in his blue brocade jacket with white breeches. "Tell me, Abelard. Tell me the true reason my father wanted me dead." Though he had no love for the man, the idea that his own father would have him killed tore at his heart.

  Abelard stared at Lucian.

  "Tell me, Abelard. You owe me that much."

  "I owe you much more," he said softly.

  "Then begin with the truth. Why did my father want me dead?"

  His answer was swift. "Elliot Darcmoor wasn't your father and he knew it. He wanted no bastard to inherit his title and lands."

  "Who is my father?" Lucian demanded.

  "I am."

  Lucian felt the shock down to his very soul.

  "I loved your mother more than life, but duty and family obligations forced us apart. She never told me she was pregnant. I didn't learn that you were my son until she came to me all those years later for help."

  Lucian attempted to comprehend, but it was difficult. The man who had been responsible for his suffering was his own father.

  "I need that drink," Lucian said, heading for the cabinet that contained his best brandy.

  "I could use one myself," Abelard agreed.

  Lucian poured them each a glass of brandy.

  Both men downed their drinks in no time and Lucian poured them each another one.

  Abelard continued. "Your mother was beside herself with worry and regret when you were captured by the pirates. I spared her the news of your suffering on my ship. I didn't think she should know."

  "I'm glad you didn't tell her. It would have been too much for her to bear."

  "I have far worse news for you, Lucian," Abelard said reluctantly. "I have just learned of it myself and feel betrayed by a man I thought kind and generous."

  "What is it?"

  "Elliot had his son move to Brynwood just before you were taken by the pirates. He introduced him as a distant cousin. He appeared well-mannered and personable. He was well received by the gentry. I have sound reason to believe Charles masked his hatred for everyone at the manor while he slowly poisoned your mother and then arranged for the accident that took Elliot's life."

  "And how have you come by this information?" Lucian contained his anger, unable to bear the thought that his mother had suffered alone.

  "I had an altercation with Charles —"

  "Charles Darcmoor is Elliot's son?" he asked startled.

  "Yes, I had helped him during the years he lived at Brynwood following your mother's and Elliot's death. He made me believe that he cared for your mother and that her death hurt him terribly. He requested my help in financial matters, being a frequent visitor to my home. I had once considered him a possible candidate as a husband for Catherine."

  "But?" Lucian said, anxious for him to continue.

  "But when Catherine explained to me who you were, I knew I had to help you in your petition to have your lands and title returned to you."

  "Why?"

  "You are my son. There was no one else to help you. And I wanted you have those lands. You deserved them."

  "And Charles?"

  "He grew furious, bursting into my home one day and confronting Catherine."

  "She never mentioned this incident to me," he said, annoyed that she hadn't confided in him.

  "Catherine tolerated Charles as a friend. He had been quiet and passive in his nature until that day. His unusual behavior troubled me and I made a few inquiries. He had made several purchases of a highly toxic herb from the apothecary. And he had cancelled the carriage ride he was to take with Elliot, sending him on alone to his death."

  "All this is speculation."

  "Instinct," Abelard corrected.

  Lucian's own instincts took hold. "Do you have reason to fear for Catherine's safety? Is that why you attempted to convince her to return to England with you?"

  Abelard rubbed his pounding temple. "I heard Charles had hired a ship with a motley crew and had sailed for parts unknown. I was preparing to sail when Catherine's note arrived."

  "Why should he want Catherine?"

  "He blames me for losing his lands and title. He knows how much I love my daughter, as did you. And he blames you as well, and he knows Catherine is with you."

  "There is much for us to discuss, Father," Lucian said, testing the sound and testing Abelard.

  "Yes, there is, my son," he answered with a smile.

  "Good," he said, easing back in the chair, "then begin by telling me all you can about Charles Darcmoor."

  o0o

  Catherine yawned and stretched herself awake. The early morning sun flooded the bedroom through the open windows, the morning heat sprawling through the room.

  She turned to discover an empty spot beside her and she smiled with a yawn. Lucian and his father still talked. This was a promising sign. Perhaps before the week was out there would be a wedding in Heaven.

  “Lying abed all day will do you no good."

  Catherine bolted up in bed and stared at Charles Darcmoor lounging casually against the window. A nervous fear gripped her stomach and sent it to fluttering. "What are you doing here?"

  "I've come for what is rightfully mine."

  "Which is?" she asked, wondering how to notify the house of his unannounced presence without endangering herself.

  "Revenge against the man who stole everything that was rightfully mine."

  "You're Elliot's son," she stated clearly.

  He walked into the room. "And I always thought you a beauty with no brains. Did you know I was born only minutes before Lucian, making me the rightful heir?"

  "But you're a bastard, and bastards don't inherit when there is a legitimate son." she said bravely in defense of her Lucian.

  Charles stared at her with hate, enraged by her remark. "Then I must dispose of Lucian, and you of course. Now get out of bed. We sail immediately."

  o0o

  "She's gone! Good Lord, she's gone!" Lilith shouted, stirring the house as she rushed frenzied down the stairs.

  Lucian and the marquis burst out of the salon as Bones and Jolly rushed through the front door. Santos, with Zeena close behind, came running from the back of the house, slipping on his shirt as he joined everyone in the entrance hall.

  Lilith waved a note at Lucian. "He took her. Good Lord, he took her."

  Lucian snatched the note from her waving hand.

  Come get her.

  Lucian handed it to Abelard. "Charles has arrived."

  "Oh, dear," Lilith gasped, and Dulcie rushed over, placing an arm around the woman in comfort.

  Captain, a ship dropped anchor last night off the west side of the island, but didn't signal to land. We've kept an eye on it but nothing happened and it sailed a short time ago," Bones nervously informed him.

  "Get the Black Skull ready. We sail immediately," he announced, and sprinted up the stairs.

  Lucian returned in minutes, his guests taking several steps back in fear as he descended the stairs.

  Lilith gasped and clasped her hands to her chest.

  Dulcie crossed herself and mumbled a hasty prayer.

  Abelard glared wide-eyed not at Lucian his son, but at Lucifer the infamous pirate.

  He wore all black — boots, breeches, and shirt that lay open to expose a broad chest heavy with muscles. His long hair looked as though he had raked through it with his fingers; wild and untamed it framed his face. A face so handsome he could steal a woman's heart with one look and icy eyes that could freeze a man to the bone.

  The marquis took a shaky step toward his son. "I'll not be left behind on the island like a helpless woman while you rescue my daughter."

  "And I'll not waste precious time arguing with you," Lucian insisted. "If you go, you follow my orders without question."

  "Agreed," Abelard answered hastily.


  The men took off after Catherine while the women offered silent prayers for her safe return.

  The Black Skull sliced through the water like a demon bent on revenge. Within the hour they were close to catching Charles's ship and the crew sounded a boisterous cheer.

  "I don't like this, Santos," Lucian said, standing on deck, studying Charles's ship as the Black Skull came closer to overtaking it. "We caught up too easily."

  "You think he planned it this way?" Santos asked, nervous himself that the chase had gone too smoothly.

  "He's up to something. Make certain the crew stays alert."

  "Aye, Lucian. Every man stands ready to obey your order."

  o0o

  Catherine stood on deck at the railing in her nightdress, feeling awkward and vulnerable in the thin material. She watched as the Black Skull gained solidly on Charles's ship. She could almost make out the men on deck and she craned her neck searching for Lucian.

  "Soon, Catherine," Charles assured her. "Soon Lucifer will watch you perform a most amazing feat."

  Fear crawled over her flesh. "What do you mean?"

  He laughed. "I wish to bait the chase. Fill Lucifer with rage. Make him lose control."

  Catherine took a step back, his crazed wide-eyed look frightening her.

  He grabbed at her wrists, she struggled but her cumbersome shape hampered any chance of defense. With her wrists firmly locked in his grip, he shouted for rope.

  Her heart plummeted and fear tightened her throat.

  Two brawny men roughly took her from Charles and tied her wrists so tightly that the hemp cut into her skin.

  "Are you a good swimmer, Catherine?" Charles asked, but gave her no chance to answer. "Not that it matters."

  "Charles." She had to attempt to reason with him, but the only words she found herself uttering were, "My baby."

  He looked indifferently at her. "Don't throw her overboard; lower her slowly so Lucian can watch her descend into the sea.

  Catherine froze from the dreadful thought of being dropped into the sea, swallowed alive, unable to breathe. She'd never survive.

  "He's close enough to see clearly, lower her," Charles ordered, and stood by the rail to stare across at the Black Skull.