He smiled. Lydia’s desires equaled his and they bonded instantly upon meeting earlier in the year. Not that he was married to a loathsome lass, but he wasn’t married at all and the pressure from his father to find a mate was building. His brother, the heir to the title, had finally wed after the scandal had subsided. It was a nasty affair, to want for a woman he could never have since she was married to another. The debacle of stealing her had not gone as favored. Pity. She was a lovely girl, now long gone to grass. His father’s mastermind a disaster.
Clearwater adjusted his shoulders and the crick in his neck popped. Too long cramped up… His eyes adjusted to the darkness. Under the brightest of stars, he saw her. Eleanor. She was a beauty, even with her long, luscious locks cut off. He admired her looks when it hit him she was crying. He couldn’t have that. He stepped forward right at the time she came, not looking, and ran right into him.
“Lady Eleanor,” he stated, trying to act surprised. “What is wrong?”
She stiffened and pulled free from his light touch. “Pardon me,” she stated, wiping her eyes. Confusion and pain was clear on her face.
“Shh, it’s all right.” He tilted her head, as if to exam her face. “What has happened? Has that pirate gone too far? Bring me pistols and I’ll demand satisfaction.”
“Oh, no, no, all is fine with Trent…”
Trent?
“Its just that, that…” She stared at him. “Who exactly are you? Will you turn to be more bad news for me?”
“Oh, darling Eleanor, I have nothing but good news. I promise,” he whispered, letting his fingers lightly trace her cheek. “I am Albert Clearwater.” He paused, waiting to see if that caught her memory. Nothing he could tell registered. “I am the Viscount of Clearwater.” He squeezed her hand. “When we return, we will put all of this behind us. The banns will be read and we will be together.”
She shook, as if in shock, one that registered in her eyes. “Marry? You and me? I don’t understand.”
“Of course, darling. You’ve been hurt. We will bring it all to a close. He shouldn’t have chased you. You did the right thing. I love you and always will.” He kissed her temple. “We’ll put all of this behind us and plan for our future.”
She gasped.
* * *
James was still trying to fathom what it was that had his wife so upset. What had Cavendish said to her? He took a few steps, convinced he’d find her and discover what had upset her. He rounded the capstan and headed to the stairs. The scene made him come to a screeching halt.
Before him was his friend, the man he’d known for an eternity it seemed, holding his wife in his arms and kissing her lips. James’s fists clenched.
* * *
Trent woke, suddenly aware his precious treasure was no longer besides him. The bed sheet was cool. She’d been gone for a while. He swung his legs over the side of the bunk and got up. He shook the sleep from his eyes and peered out the window. The sky was a deep pink as the sun began its slow ascent to start the day. He stretch and pulled on his clothes.
Today was the day. The day vengeance was sought. He closed his eyes and his mind beckoned the image of his wife. Soon, my love, soon.
He left the cabin for the foredeck where he found Fitzgibbons and Elle. He frowned. She was crying and his first mate was talking in soothing tones to her. He went straight to her.
“Elle, what is wrong?”
Upon his words, she leapt into his arms and bit back a sob. She swallowed hard, and wiped her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep. My headaches,” she gulped, “they had returned.”
He growled. Lord Windhaven’s presence was no doubt the reason. While he wanted her memory back, he gritted his teeth that she should return to him. “So it drove you to tears?”
She glared at him with haunted eyes. Her face showed how anguished she was. He wanted to comfort her but he had his own inner conflict. Tell her who she was or keep her for himself. Yet was that fair? For today, he planned to make the man who cause his wife’s death pay dearly. Could he really taint her more with his blood?
Fitzgibbons’ expression was somber. If he knew, he’d kill Trent for ruining her.
The sun rose higher.
This Love Of Mine: Chapter Twenty-Five
James paced the lower deck, his own thoughts clouded. What had he said that made Eleanor run? Or was it Cavendish? He wasn’t sure but he waited to see her. He’d looked but didn’t see her out. Granted, he didn’t travel to the rear of the deck. Something about her sharing the cabin with Cavendish unnerved him.
Could he take her back? That question managed to sneak into his head in spite of his efforts . It would be Christian of him to do so…heavens, he could hear half the ton whisper that and nod to him. But the bulk, despite the charitable disposition, would give him sympathy at his plight, for how could he fulfill his lineage with an heir when his wife had turned pirate and worse yet, strayed from her marriage bed? Could he take those knowing looks so often given, and live? But the marriage remained the same, for he loved her. And in that, he found his answer.
Settled, he turned to demand to see her and ran right into Lydia.
“Lydia, what are you doing up so early?”
She smiled and preened. “I was looking for you, my dearest James.”
Her sentiment grinded his nerves. “Why? Nothing has changed. They let us free from the cage and we’ll be released today. But that is all.”
“Oh James,” she cooed, stepping closer, touching his arm. “I know it is hard, what with Eleanor engaged intimately with another and having no recall of you or who she is. Think of it as time to start new.” She gave him another one of her stunning smiles, though now, he recognized it as a song of the wicked to lure him into a trap. Yet, how had she heard?
“I don’t think you understand—”
“Oh, darling, but I do. Albert told me everything.”
Clearwater? What had he heard? James hadn’t told him about his conversation.
“Lydia, please.” He tried to disengage her arms, which had managed to loop into his, as if they were lovers.
“It is good,” she continued. “I’ll leave Wattsmore for you.” She reached up before he could stop it and kissed his cheek.
“What?” He couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Lydia, I am still married—”
“Shh,” she whispered. “Considering all, I’m sure the entire ton would agree. You’re free, as I am, for Wattsmore is no better than a commoner, bedding the working class.” She winked.
James stared, horrified. The worst part of this, she was right mostly. His skin crawled.
* * *
Fitzgibbons had seen many things in his life. Some he wished he never had, mostly not forgettable, and what he saw now rankled up with that. He’d noticed the emotional tension between his captain and Lord Windhaven. It was obvious the girl cared for them both. The fact was, the lord held meaning to her past. For his captain to not push her to find out, and possibly get her memory to return so she could escape the life of piracy with its terminal outcome if caught, Fitzgibbons couldn’t understand.
Then the glimpse of her with that other nob, the fob, rubbed him wrong. No doubt, this man too held some meaning, but not the way he appeared to interpret that. Fitzgibbons shook his head. Then to find that lady, the pretty one who straddled the line of harlot, saunter up to Windhaven like she just did, puzzled him. It was like watching a play but he saw nothing good on this one. He feared Elle would be hurt and that he wouldn’t allow. Damn to Cavendish, who was hell bent to spill blood today for his lost wife. He’d hurt Elle, too, in his machinations.
Fitzgibbons roared. Enough!
He rounded the corner and threw the cabin’s door wide open, startling the quartermaster out of his seat.
“Kendall! I need ya ta put yer thinkin’ back ta the time prior ta joinin’ us. Gotta figure out this situ’tion before this ship bursts inta flames!”
* * *
She splashed water on her face, trying her
best to freshen up, but she feared her eyes were beyond repair, swollen and red. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, straightening up and contemplating what she should do. Things were starting to make some sense, but still she wasn’t sure of it all.
Her real name was Eleanor. Sounded right but she wanted more. Lord Windhaven struck a cord deep within her, of a man who was part of her life. Her heart tugged but it also hurt because of him. If he was her husband, why had he abandoned her for another? That lady Lydia was far from being a lady, telling her so bluntly the news, as if she got satisfaction from it. And then that other nabob, no, gentleman, Lord Clearwater. His affections were overwhelming.
And then Trent. He seemed too distracted, too caught up in his own revenge plot for his deceased wife. Eleanor had sympathy for him but at the cost of her? Then again, lately, she caught him watching her with guarded eyes. Of course, their passion was equally guarded, to the point of missing in a physical sense. She had blamed herself for that, as her thoughts were haunted by another in her bed, other than him. Had that been Windhaven?
With a deep swallow, she pinched her cheeks—a habit from her past, she gathered, as she knew her cheeks had color from the sun. Shrugging on the black frock coat, she lifted her chin up in deference to the melancholy she had and walked out onto the deck.
Trent was before her, on the upper deck, hands clasped behind his back, fully dressed in his finest frock and feathered black hat, a handsome man she couldn’t resist. She wondered if he had had another life once, back in England, and if she might have met him there. Why not, since in the last day, she heard of other similar tales she didn’t have memories to.
With deep determination, she walked up to him and touched his arm.
“Good morning.”
He smiled. “’Mornin’, darling. This is not the day to be here, for your safety’s sake.” He kissed the top of her head and gently nudged her back.
Eleanor stared at him in disbelief. The one time she needed him, under what was becoming a stranger set of circumstances, he pushed away.
“Aye, Capt’n!” The watch high up on the main mast yelled and pointed.
Trent pulled his scope out to see. All Eleanor could see was the land moving closer.
There was a commotion behind them, coming from below. Eleanor glanced over to find James, Clearwater, and Lydia. They were not a quiet trio. In fact, they appeared to be arguing. She frowned and their quarrel lured her closer.
* * *
James wanted to spit nails. “You told her what?!?”
Lydia didn’t flinch. “The truth. She has left you, in many ways. She’s turned outlaw and no longer faithful to you. Why would she think you still burn a candle for her?”
He had never hit a woman before, but this one needed to be slapped. Instead, his hands clenched into fists and his blood pounded through him as his anger mounted. “So you told her I married you? My dear lady, I believe your husband might have an issue with that!”
She smiled. It was a knowing grin, like a Cheshire cat. “He is not a nobleman but a tradesmen. Under the right circumstances, a marriage that can be annulled.”
James growled and turned on Clearwater. “And what was that interlude I caught you in last night? Embracing my wife, as if she was not taken.”
Clearwater eyebrows raised in a questioning tone. “Lydia is correct. Its been over three months since she was taken, vanished into thin air, only to be found by happenstance in bed with another man, an outlaw no less. By the courts, perfect grounds for a marriage voided.”
Had he just heard him right? This man was his friend, but now, he moved on Eleanor?
“You two can go to hell! She is my wife!”
A loud gasp echoed behind him. He spun to find Eleanor, dressed in her fine pirate clothes, standing there, her face paling. She stumbled.
“Eleanor!” James leapt to catch her, as she collapsed into his arms.
“My darling,” Clearwater murmured, instantly at her side. James wanted to rip his friend to pieces.
“What in all that’s holy…”
Another intruder—the pirate captain and his first mate lagging behind him. Only decent thing was the man pushed Clearwater aside.
Lydia stood off to the side, a look of disgust on her face. “She fainted from the truth of her demise, that’s what happened.”
Only the Irishman seemed to be practical as he got closer. “Give the lass room. Hard ta catch a breath wit y’all stealin’ th’ air ’bout her.” He finagled her away and pulled out a flask, ripped the cork out with his teeth, spitting it to the side, and tipped her up. “Take a swig, Elle.”
She did and promptly gagged as the burning liquor seeped down her throat. Another moment, she coughed a few times but the color returned to her cheeks.
“Thank you, Mr. Fitzgibbons,” she said softly, giving him a weak smile. It was a warm look that vanished when she turned back to the four of them, replaced by cold anger. “For the last few weeks, months perhaps, I have been lost.” Relying on the first mate’s arm, she stood. “I’ve been haunted by thoughts of ghosts, evil ones who chased me, apparently enough to force me to run and I ended up here, with no memory and no name to recall with the only links to who I was in vague images, plagued with headaches. These men,” she made a sweeping motion around the ship, “took me in, gave me food, and clothes, and a place to heal. And Captain Cavendish kept me safe, protected me for all this time, like a gentleman! Only to have you come aboard and throw me off balance, trying to convince me of who I am by telling me lies!”
She turned and looked at them. “All of you! And to what purpose?”
* * *
Trent stood dumbfounded, hating the fact his lady, the woman who had wheedled her way into his heart, now accused him along with the rest of betraying her.
He had kept his mind focused. He was so close to his goal, he could taste blood but he heard Elle scream and plans of revenge crumbled. And what he saw only irritated him for she was in the company of those pesky noblemen and had fainted, no doubt due to Windhaven feeding her lies to win her over. That was it, enough! He leapt over the railing to the lower deck, Fitzgibbons behind him.
Now, revived by his first mate—a smart move, but one he’d have to correct, as she was his—he found he’d have to pull out all stops to get her back.
“Elle…”
“Eleanor,” she stated. Apparently, her memory was returning, though he doubted it was back fully as she stood apart from her husband.
“Eleanor,” he restarted as he took her hand and pulled her closer. “Have no worries. What was is no longer…”
“Capt’n! Land!”
It had been what he’d been waiting for. Trent was ready for vengeance. It was all to end now. But instead, he concentrated on her. Though Fitzgibbons looked agitated. Trent shook him off and returned to Eleanor.
“Lord Windhaven has argued he is your husband, but without explaining why you ran from him, therefore, for your peace of mind and safety, I, Trent Cavendish, Captain of Equuleus, dissolve your marriage, real or fictional, by decree of being captain.”
“What!” James yelled.
Clearwater argued for it, Lydia voiced something he couldn’t discern. But it was Eleanor’s look of pure confusion that stunned him. Why wasn’t she happy he solved her problem?
Quietly, she whispered, “Why did you do that?”
Looking deep into her eyes, he replied, “Because I love you.”
“Wait!” James bellowed. “Eleanor, please.”
“Capt’n! The men!” Fitzgibbons interjected. The sight of land and potential riches stirred the crew but Trent wasn’t leaving this.
“You have no authority to dissolve my marriage!” James argued, jumping to her side. “Please, my love, hear me.”
The moment she tore her gaze from his for Windhaven’s, Trent wanted to roar to the heavens not again! He could not think about losing another.
This Love Of Mine: Chapter Twenty-Six
; Eleanor’s thoughts tumbled. Her temples throbbed and her heart raced as the closed doors to her past slowly parted.
“James,” she whispered.
Instantly, she saw in his eyes the wonder and sparkle that she remembered his name. “Yes, love, yes! ’Tis I!”
Suddenly, she sidestepped when a force from within hit her hard in her skull. Dizziness threatened and she felt the arms of James and Trent supporting her. It was their strength she needed as her past rushed in and her position rang loud. She was Lady Windhaven, or had been, and a pirate.
She spun, out of Trent’s hold and facing James. “So I was abducted and in that short time, you felt fit to take this,” she pointed to the snake called Lydia. “As wife?”
His jaw tightened. “No. Lady Wattsmore is currently married to another man.”
That wasn’t convincing. “But for other than him, you’d have taken her.”
“No.”
“Yes,” Lydia interjected at the same time he said no.
He shot the snake a despicable look, which didn’t appear to change her appearance.
“Eleanor,” he pleaded. He took a step closer. “I’ve remained true to you, spending every waking moment to find you.”
“Eleanor, darling,” Clearwater interjected, drawing all to turn to him. “It is time to leave all this behind you and start new.”
James glared. “What the hades are you doing?”
Trent slammed his looking glass closed and shoved it in his pocket. “She is not a particle to be torn apart so all parties get her!”
Lydia stared, arms akimbo but she still wore a smile. “This does not matter to you.”
The pirate captain laughed. “That, my dear, is all wrong. This is my ship and I am the law.”
The deck broke into a cacophony of voices of the nobles arguing. Eleanor’s ears rang, unable to hear them for the pounding of her heart.
Her Perfect Gentleman: A Regency Romance Anthology Page 20
