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Always My Viscount (Ever Beloved Book 2)

Page 4

by Dawn Brower


  “I can’t comply with your request,” she told him. “It’s to keep you safe

  “Let me see if I understand this correctly.” He lifted a brow, mocking her. “You’re keeping me tied to your bed to protect me? Pray tell from what?”

  There was a hint of amusement in his tone. He didn’t take any of it seriously and showed no signs of doing so. Clearly he didn’t believe a word she said. Why would he though? For all he knew, she lied as easily as breathing. It was fair to reason he would question her on everything. She could even respect him for it. “From yourself mostly,” she explained. “We deal in a certain trade you’re overly fond of.”

  “There isn’t a whole lot I’m fond of these days...” He narrowed his gaze and opened his mouth wide. “Oh, I think I understand. This isn’t a normal vessel is it? How did you end up smuggling brandy? Surely you can’t be desperate for funds. The duke is well-off.”

  “Oh, he is,” she reassured him. “But that largess doesn’t extend to me.” It never had. “I’ve had to become rather creative over the past couple of years to survive. This ship has ensured not only that, but my future as well.” She didn’t come out and admit to the smuggling, but she didn’t have to. He was intelligent enough to figure it out on his own without her spelling it out for him. “Considering your penchant for drowning yourself in brandy, I can’t take the risk of you drinking away my profits. If that happens I can’t protect you from the crew. They rather depend on it to support their families.”

  They did need the money, but she hadn’t told him the whole truth. The risk involved was great, and they had to curb the smuggling for a few months after this trip. A nosy excise man had gone around Sheerness trying to gather information on the smuggling ring. During the war, she’d let some English spies carry messages across on her boat. For that alone, she’d been spared dealing with other government officials bothering her. Now that the war wasn’t as high a priority, they came sniffing for ways of taking them down. They needed this trip to ensure their survival for a few months. She hoped she wouldn’t have to take another one before she could claim her inheritance, but it might become necessary.

  “A noble pursuit,” he replied dryly. “You, protector of the downtrodden... I never thought I’d see the day you’d be looking after those less fortunate than you. What changed?”

  She’d lost him—her place in society, but before that, she had lost her parents and the security they brought to her life. She had no one she could depend on. Not even her sole family member, her cousin Ryan. He’d inherited Cinderbury and all it entailed, except guardianship of her and her inheritance. That had gone to the Duke of Wolfton. The evil bastard probably thought to keep it from her indefinitely. When she went to claim it, he wouldn’t find the same girl he’d tossed in the English countryside to die. Estella couldn’t wait to put him in his place and tell him to go to hell. He certainly belonged there.

  “There’s a lot about my life you never understood,” she explained. “You saw what I wanted you to.”

  She had loved him with all of her heart and hadn’t wanted him to pity her. If he’d known what a brute the Duke had been, she feared he’d have done something reckless. She wanted him to be safe always and his impetuousness scared her at times. He’d proposed marriage, and instead of planning a life with him, she’d broken his heart. She wished that could have been prevented. Sadly, it hadn’t been. It was necessary to make sure the duke left him alone. They couldn’t have married without his permission. She wasn’t of age to make that decision on her own, and she’d been so young then. The three years she’d been separated from him had made her grow up fast. Sometimes she wished she could go back to that naïve girl and shake her. Other times, she longed to have an ounce of that innocence back. She’d never be able to look out at the world without her newfound cynicism clouding her perspective.

  “I saw far more than you realized,” he said. “But I’ll give you this much—I never expected you’d toss me aside. I knew something wasn’t right and hoped you would tell me all about it. I wanted you to trust me, but clearly that would not have happened. You made up your mind and decided I wasn’t worth the effort.”

  “That’s not how it was at all,” she insisted. “Trust wasn’t the issue, and never would have been.”

  “No?” He tilted his head. “Then what was?”

  Estella chewed on her lip and considered what she should do or say to him. A part of her had always wanted to tell him the truth, but she’d never been able to find the courage to do so. She was weak and had little options to choose from. Her stepfather had all the control, and his threats left her with a heavy burden to carry. Until she was free of him, she had to do as he dictated. That meant living a life separate from Donovan—to protect herself, but mostly to keep him safe. Maybe it was time to stop hiding and tell him everything. He should know the truth, and maybe he’d find it in his heart to forgive her. “The duke has too much control over me. He’d never have approved the match, and had his own ideas for my prospective groom. You didn’t measure up to his expectations.”

  “So you mentioned that night,” he said. “But you hinted his choice was yours as well. Why should I believe differently?” Sarcasm spilled from him, each word dripping with it.

  “Because I’m not married to an old man, and instead smuggle to survive,” she declared throwing up her hands in frustration. “What more proof do you need that I didn’t want the same thing as the duke?”

  “You could have come to me.” He stared at her with determination. “I poured my soul out to you and you threw it back at me. That’s not what a woman in love does.”

  “She does if she hopes to protect the man who owns her heart.” There, she said it. What would he do with that? Would he throw it back at her the same way she had done to him years ago? She wouldn’t blame him if he did. She didn’t deserve his forgiveness, but she deeply desired it. Desired him. “We cannot go back and change anything though. What’s done is done, and we must move on. I made my choice, and I have to live with those consequences.”

  He didn’t say a word for several seconds. She hated when he became quiet and introspective. If only he’d talk and tell her what was going on inside that head of his.

  “We all made choices since that night,” he finally said. “I didn’t make too many wise ones myself. You’re right. I have to live with them. I didn’t fight for you, and not once did I go and find you. I did try, albeit half-heartedly. If I thought for a moment that you wanted me though, nothing would have stopped me. I kept hearing your words inside my head. I could see the look on your face and you’d seemed so resolute.”

  “I was,” she agreed. Sometimes she’d lain awake at night dreaming of the life she’d been denied. Happiness, love, a family—they were all things she’d craved, but mostly she’d wanted Donovan. He’d been the one good thing in her life, and the duke had tore him away from her. If not for his interference she’d have had everything she desired. Instead, she’d had to struggle to survive. Perhaps that had been a good thing. Along the way, she’d found herself and realized she didn’t need anyone to save her. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. Having Donovan’s love would have made it sweeter, but she didn’t need him. Oh, did she want him though... “It was for the best. I had hoped you’d go on with your life and find happiness. No, that’s not entirely true. A part of me wanted you to remain alone and miserable, but that was the selfish part of me.”

  There were many nights when she laid in bed thinking of him, wondering what he was doing. Each time she’d close her eyes and imagine that the duke hadn’t come between them, and then she’d open them to find him lying next to her—every time she’d open them to disappointment. Fantasies didn’t come true, and she had to live in the real world.

  A knock echoed through the room. “Excuse the interruption,” Billy said. “Leeland wanted me to tell you we’re on our way and should make our destination on schedule.”

  “Thank you,” Estella said comi
ng to her feet. “Does anything require my attention?”

  He shook his head. “Everything is taken care of. After we load the shipment, we’ll head out immediately. The crew on shore will be expecting us at both ends.”

  They had it all down to run like clockwork. The crew were well trained and didn’t need her most of the time. Their French contact had insisted on this run. She didn’t like it, but had agreed. She hated sailing if she didn’t have to. What if her stepfather showed up one day while she was gone? She usually had some warning when he’d arrive, but a small part of her feared one day she’d not be prepared.

  “I’ll be out on deck shortly,” she told him. “Pierre will be expecting to see me as we load the shipment.”

  Billy left and shut the door behind them. Estella turned back toward Donovan. He had a peculiar expression on his face. His eyebrows were pushed downward and his mouth formed a thin white line. What about that exchange caught his attention?

  “I’m going to have to leave you alone soon.”

  “You’re really not going to untie me?” He frowned. “I promise I have no desire to steal your brandy. I’m not going touch brandy ever again. I’ve lost too much of my life to it as it is. It’s time I woke up and faced my responsibilities.”

  “That’s good to hear,” she said. “I don’t like you wasting your life away. You’re a good, honorable man and shouldn’t wallow in self-pity.”

  She meant every word of it. He could do so much more with his life and she wanted him to be happy—if he’d allow himself to find that elusive emotion. Happiness was different for each person and not so easily defined. Donovan should never have become so jaded, yet he had. He laughed scornfully. “You have no right to judge me.”

  “That’s not what I was doing...” She sighed. “I care about you, is all. You deserve so much more than the life you currently have.”

  She wanted him to see what he could do. That if he applied himself he could make a difference, not only in his life, but those around him. He had opportunities she’d never have because she’d been born female. Sometimes she hated that her gender made a difference. Because she didn’t have a cock swinging between her legs, she couldn’t think rationally. There were some really ignorant men in the world who made some really bad decisions. Gender shouldn’t have anything to do with what made a person capable of making a decision.

  “Then please untie me.”

  “I’m sorry I cannot.” Estella went toward the door and opened it. She stopped at the doorway and turned back to him. “When I return, we’ll discuss it again. For now though, this really is for the best. I promise.”

  “You’re incapable of keeping a promise,” he said. “So don’t make one now.”

  Her heart sank in her chest. She had made him some promises a few years ago. She’d promised to love him forever. He might think she’d broken that one, but she hadn’t. She loved him still and always would. Pierre was a dangerous man, and he wouldn’t understand what Donovan’s presence on her ship meant. He’d assume he was a spy and attempt to kill him. Pierre was a man with major trust issues. They were even greater than Donovan’s, if that were possible. The difference was that Donovan wasn’t about to kill anyone, and Pierre was more than capable of it. She wouldn’t take a chance with his life. He’d forgive her—maybe.

  “I’m sorry you believe that,” she replied sadly. “But I understand it nonetheless. Take care while I’m gone, and we’ll talk some more upon my return.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” he retorted. “I might not be here when you get back.”

  She laughed softly. “Think of me while I’m gone.” She blew him a kiss and closed the door with a soft click. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was tied quite well to her bed. When she came back, she’d tell him everything, and then they’d see if they had a future together.

  She really wanted that future she’d envisioned...

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Donovan wanted to laugh—he really, really did, but he held back. Estella might think she had the upper hand; nevertheless, she’d soon realize her mistake. This wasn’t his first time being tied to a bed. He might have fallen hopelessly in love with her and hoped to marry her; however, that didn’t mean he’d lived the life of a monk.

  He’d learned a thing or two on his exploits, and he hadn’t remained celibate while they’d been apart. He’d had no reason to considering she turned him away. While she talked, he’d been testing the ropes and gauging his chances of breaking free. The sailor had tied a fine knot, but hadn’t secured it quite tight enough. He couldn’t be sure why he’d been so negligent. Maybe he’d wanted to keep him relatively uninjured, or maybe she’d asked them to treat him with care. A part of him hoped for the latter, but didn’t count on it. Estella believed she was protecting him. He didn’t need her to stand in front of him and keep him safe. That was his job, and he should be the one doing the protecting anyway.

  He yanked on the ropes and was able to slide one of his hands free. Once that one was no longer tied he was easily able to remove the rope from the other side. Now he faced one very important dilemma. What the hell was he going to wear? He was quite nude... What had the blasted sailor done with his clothing? He scanned the room and frowned. Nope, nowhere to be found... He couldn’t very well leave the room without any clothing. Although that would certainly take them a bit by surprise. He might be able to use that to his advantage. He’d rather not use that tactic unless necessary. He had plans for Estella, and none of them kept the attention on him.

  He leapt from the bed and pulled open a few drawers. Nothing inside of them. Did no one use this cabin regularly? How often did Estella sail with them? It couldn’t be often for her to have no personal effects in the cabin. That was rather curious... They all followed her command, yet it appeared as if she didn’t actually captain the vessel often. The questions he wanted to ask her kept piling up the more he learned.

  “Estella, my dear, what schemes are you hatching?” He wished he could hate her. It would make things so much easier if he could. “What am I going to do while you’re away?”

  He had wanted to dress and spy on her. Without even a pair of trousers, he wasn’t going to be able to do that. He refused to run around France naked. He had no doubts that was where they were either. The Frenchman had been the biggest clue in this little escapade. He’d searched the cabin for a reason. It occurred to him that she’d never explained how they were suddenly married. Her skills at evasion had grown. He would have to make sure he asked her again when she reappeared.

  Until then... He might as well climb back in bed. He could pretend to still be tied up and awaiting her return. That might actually be to his benefit. He’d left the loops on the ropes and he could easily slide his wrists back through them. When the time was right he could pull them free again and touch her the way he’d been dreaming about for years.

  “If I’m going to be naked, I might as well enjoy it.”

  The more he thought about it, the more he liked that plan. Ever since he opened his eyes and found her staring down at him, he’d wanted to kiss her again. He couldn’t make her fall in love with him again—if she ever loved him to begin with, but he could make her body writhe with lust. He longed to feel her body beneath his as he made love to her. All it would take was one kiss to see if she was willing or not. If she wasn’t interested, she’d easily dissuade him. Estella had many skills at her disposal. She wasn’t the usual sort of female. The rapier at her side wasn’t for show. She could, and would, use it on any man who threatened her or someone she cared about.

  “Maybe she’ll take pity on me and stab me in the heart,” he said with a sigh. “It might be the only way I remove her from within it.”

  If he ever doubted his love for her, this had cured him of that notion entirely. He’d always carry that love in his heart until the day he died. Donovan doubted that death would stop it either. He’d probably carry it with him into the great beyond and through eternity. It almost sounded romant
ic in a twisted way.

  He crawled into the bed and pulled the sheet up to cover his nude body, then put his arms through the loops on the rope. Now he had to wait for her return and the real fun would begin. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. She’d probably hate that he’d found a way to free himself. Estella didn’t particularly like surprises. Donovan, on the other hand, loved them.

  “Come back to me, love,” he whispered. “I’m waiting....”

  THE MEETING WITH PIERRE had gone as planned. He’d made a few unwelcome advances and she pulled her dagger out. A reminder with the blade against his neck was all he’d needed to back down. Now all she had to do was go back to her cabin and deal with Donovan. Handling Pierre had been so much easier and in some ways preferable. At least there she understood what was happening. Everything about Donovan was a surprise and not always a pleasant one. At least he seemed a little like his old self once he’d sobered up. She hadn’t particularly liked him while he’d been inebriated.

  The cargo was all safely stored and they were on their way back to England. She could have the talk with Donovan she’d been avoiding. Which was, in large, the reason she remained on the deck and not heading toward her cabin. As soon as she entered the room she’d have to face everything she’d been avoiding. She had to admit to him that she still loved him and hoped she had a chance. If he said no... She swallowed hard. That might be more than she could bear, but it would serve her right.

  “Captain,” Billy yelled after her. “Estes, sir...”

  She halted and turned toward him. “What is it?”

  “We have a small problem.” He twisted his hands together fretfully. “The lord’s clothes, well...you see...”

  “Spill it out,” she ordered him.

  “They were ruined while I was washing them. The pants are still all right, but his shirt and waistcoat are completely in tatters. The lye was too much for the finery I think.”

 

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