The True One (One and Only Series Book 2)

by Samanthya Wyatt

  Her shock made him realize his harsh words. Deeds of a madman not meant for her ears.

  “And he can do so again.”

  “Have you so little faith in me?”

  “I have all the faith in the world in you. If not, I would not have given myself to you.” Tears pooled in her eyes. But, the woman had backbone, and the strength of a termagant storm.

  “I don’t want to argue with you. This is not for discussion.”

  “What?” She jerked to a halt. Her eyes flashed fire. “Is that why you told me you loved me? To smooth the way for your revelation?”

  He fisted his hands. “What the bleedin’ hell are you spouting, woman?” His anger rose to fury. He’d allowed her to see a side of him he’d shown no other. He’d allowed her into his heart and now she lanced it with her scathing temper.

  “So flustered in my desire for you, you think I would kiss you and send you merrily on your way?” She picked up one of her stockings and aimed it at him like a weapon.

  “Now you’re just spouting nonsense.”

  “Nonsense?” She braced both hands on her hips, the way he’d done when every nerve in his body cautioned him of battle.

  His own temper surfaced. But, she was just too damn fetching. She shoved her glorious hair out of her face and thrust her dainty chin into the air.

  “Do you remember the shape you were in when you came to me?” She struggled with the back of her gown. “But then, how could you? You were barely alive.”

  “I’ll be in your debt till my dying day, but I’m going back.”

  “You will thank me by letting him hack away at you again,” she screeched. “You’ve lost all sense. There’s no reasoning with you. I saved your life.”

  “And I thank you. I’m stronger than you think. My revenge is what kept me breathing.”

  “Oh you mulish, poop.”

  He chuckled. At her reaction he realized he should not have done so.

  “I hate you.”

  “You just said you loved me.”

  “How dare you make light of this situation. If you go back and find him, he will kill you.”

  “Turn around.” He made short work with the buttons on her gown. “I’ve already proven I’m hard to kill.”

  “Your arrogance will get you killed.”

  He pulled her close. “Jenny. It’s not arrogance.”

  She snuggled in his arms. “You suffered more than I realized. Please, put it behind you.”

  “I made a vow for my crew. I will avenge their deaths. The man was brutal. To the point, no sane man can comprehend.”

  She jerked her head from his chest to meet his gaze. “That’s just it. The prince is insane. Please, Stephen. Don’t go. I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t be afraid, little one. I’ll be careful. I will plan and take precautions.”

  “No. Promise me you won’t go.”

  He glared down at her. “I will have my revenge.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. Something stirred in her mind.

  “Then you can’t have me.”

  He stilled. His arms became steel bands. “What?” When she pulled away, he released her.

  “You heard me. You cannot have both.”

  “Because I care for you I allow you more liberties than most. But do not think I will permit you to lead me around like a dog.”

  She whirled. “I do not want to tame you or lead you. But I will not sit here and wait, wondering if you are alive or dead. I will not dither for months, pulling my hair out, not eating, chewing my fingernails, pacing the floor . . .

  “I get the picture.” He came close, his hands stroked up and down her arms. “Jenny. I’ll be fine. I’ll come back. I promise.”

  She shoved away. “Hear me well, Stephen. If you seek your revenge, do not expect me to remain in a state of repose.”

  Several moments passed before he could grasp what she’d said. Cold dread seeped into his bones.

  “Explain yourself.”

  “I will not wait for you. If you leave . . . we . . . we’re through.”

  Every word struck him a telling blow. Emotion he’d denied and hadn’t wanted to deal with reared up and threatened to take him down. She’d given her uncompromising demand as though she hadn’t punched a hole in his gut—right beside the open wound from the Rajput prince.

  “You issue an ultimatum?” His palms shook with righteous indignation.

  “What choice do I have when faced with a fool?”

  “I’m a man of my word. I vowed revenge for my crew.”

  “They are dead.”

  “No less, a vow spoken is not broken. Not by me!”

  “Did you hear me?” Now she was screaming. “You do not love me. If you choose revenge instead of me, that will prove you do not love me.”

  Despite everything that had passed, this was the deciding moment. Fury crawled into his blood and pounded through his veins. Still he controlled his rage.

  “You want me to choose?” His cold voice sounded lethal to his own ears. No man had ever dared to challenge him in such a manner. “You dare to give me an ultimatum,” he thundered. “Who the bloody hell do you think you are?”

  “Evidently someone of no importance.”

  “Hear my words, woman. No one threatens me. No one orders me about. I’ve received one blow too many.”

  “Stay with me now . . . or leave and never see me again.” Her chin thrust into the air. Her chin wobbled, but in his blinding rage, he ignored it.

  “That is your only choice?” he asked in a deadly calm.

  “It is the only one I will accept.”

  Blood pounded his temples. Pain squeezed his chest. The leash on his temper threatened destruction.

  “Done!”

  He turned on his heel and stomped to the cabin door. With the tempest of a storm, he jerked the door from its hinges. He glared over his shoulder.

  “Take your decision to bed with you tonight.”

  The raging wind outside matched the bluster whirling around inside of his brain. Stephen pounded a fist into the palm of his opposite hand while he glared through the window of his uncle’s study. This business with Jennifer had him frustrated beyond his imagining. He’d given her what she wanted. Then she took his words of love and defiled them. Mocked him.

  How do you get over someone who has left a hole in your soul?

  “Your ship sets sail with the morning tide.” Wesley dropped into a chair. “You haven’t been on your feet long enough to get your land legs back.”

  Stephen glanced at the blond man sprawled in the chair on the other side of his uncle’s mahogany desk. His posing presence was one of debonair, even suave—a gentleman of the finest order. Stephen knew Wesley before he became a refined gentleman. Wesley was good with his fists and sharper with his wits—as he’d proven many times while serving under Stephen’s command.

  He turned at the sound of thunder crashing outside to see rain slashing against the windowpane.

  “Seems to me you lost your edge,” Wesley continued. “Surely you’re not going to let your lady love keep you from revenge?”

  Stephen gave him a glare. “Would you like to keep your tongue in your mouth?”

  “I have gotten a tad used to having it there. I thought your temper had cooled.”

  He turned back to the window. “The blasted woman gave me an ultimatum.”

  Wesley whistled through his teeth. “Can’t imagine why you would ever listen to a mere female.”

  “Be careful, Wesley, or I’ll wipe that smug assurance off your pretty face.”

  “Can’t stand it, can you old man?”

  Stephen scowled at Wesley considering the idea of removing his tongue.

  Wesl
ey pulled the top from a decanter and poured a generous amount of brandy into a glass. “You allowed her to get firmly under your skin.”

  Yes. Firmly entrenched. Stephen gave a sigh. “To think I was actually contemplating marrying her.”

  “At the time you had this foolish notion, were you vertical or horizontal?”

  He smiled at the memory of Jennifer lying in his bed purring like a kitten. Then shoved the image aside. “You’d be surprised to know I did most of my foolish thinking on ship, on the way home from India.”

  “Usually the sea air clears one’s addled brain.” Wesley’s blue gaze never wavered as he held a glass toward Stephen. “Come now. Tell me about this ultimatum.”

  “You seem mighty interested in what a mere female had to say,” Stephen said accepting the drink.

  “Ultimatum or no, evidently she did not change your mind.”

  Stephen regarded the figure lounging in the chair before him. He appreciated Wesley’s worth. He’d proven his allegiance many times when their lives had depended on each other. But with his smart mouth, the chap pushed his boundaries.

  “Nothing or no one will change my mind,” Stephen said.

  “Not all is lost. You are returning to India. For Revenge.”

  The way Wesley said it didn’t match his words. “You do agree with me.”

  “Are you asking me?”

  “Well?”

  “I’m going with you aren’t I?”

  Raising a brow, he ignored Wesley’s cocky attitude. “With your eyes open. There will be trouble. This time I’ll be prepared. The Lady Mistress is equipped with man-o-war cannons. Nothing will stop me from taking my due vengeance.”

  Wesley was smart enough to remain quiet. He didn’t ask how Stephen accumulated cannons from a man-of-war ship.

  Stephen walked in front of the desk and gave Wesley a sly grin. Leaning back on the wood’s surface, he placed his arms over his ribs and crossed one booted foot over the other. “All is ready?”

  “You’ve picked a fine crew. Jack is an unusual sort. Appears trustworthy.”

  “He saved my hide.” He grated the words through his teeth.

  All humor faded from Wesley’s expression. “He may need to do so again.” He took a gulp of his brandy. “I know you think this voyage is necessary, my friend. I, for one, will be glad to get this over with.”

  Stephen hoped against hope his new crew would not meet the same fate as his last.

  Chapter 33

  North Sea 1824

  His features a mask of intent concentration, Stephen rocked to the motion of the Lady Mistress. A gentle wind stirred his rust colored hair about his face and shoulders. His firm resolve made a startling contrast to the calm summer sea.

  Finally, he would have his revenge. Killing was too good for the Rajput prince. The whoreson deserved to be chained, tortured, have the flesh stripped from his bones.

  Agony resurfaced at the senseless killing of good men, who’d never stood a fighting chance. Who were never given the opportunity to defend themselves. A stinging image pierced his mind and chafed his chest at the same time. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth, reminding him of broken bones.

  Bones healed. Scars remained.

  “Good night for sailing.”

  Lost in dark thoughts, Stephen had not heard Wesley approach. “Hmm,” he grunted in response.

  “Two days and I’ve not seen you move from this spot. You are still set on this course of action,” Wesley asked.

  “You expected me to change my mind?” His brows rose in disbelief.

  “I know how you are once you’ve made up your mind.”

  He studied Wesley closely. “Why did you come with me?”

  Wesley gave a nonchalant shrug. “If for no other reason than to keep the same outcome from happening again.”

  “What makes you think you could make things any different? I am the only member left of my entire crew. The only man left alive.” He turned into the wind. “There were days I wished for death.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Captain I know.”

  “I’m the same man,” Stephen grumbled.

  “No. You’re not.”

  He whirled with an angry scowl, his voice bitter. “Wesley, you are my friend. But if you spout nonsense to me, you will soon join the list of adversaries.” Men normally cowered when Stephen’s temper flared. Wesley seemed undisturbed in the least.

  “I know little. I suspect a great deal. It is because I am your friend I must ask.”

  “Ask what you already know? I want to kill every mother’s son of the bastards who tortured me and killed my men. I owe it to them.”

  “You owed them your leadership. You gave them that.”

  “I led them to their deaths.” Pain engulfed anew, the way it did every time he thought about the senseless slaying.

  “Every man under your command would have given his life willingly.”

  “Bah. You know not of what you speak.”

  “I know because I served under you. I know what kind of man you are. There is none better.” Wesley stared into the distance.

  “You are a man of smooth words. What do you think flattery will get you? If you know me, you know nothing short of my desire will satisfy me.”

  “Seems a fool’s errand. Yet, no one knows better than I once you’ve set your mind on a course, there is no changing it.”

  Stephen grunted in acquiescence.

  “You know what I say is true. You had the loyalty of your men. No captain cared for his crew more. None more fair.”

  “Some would not agree with you.”

  “Who?” Wesley turned to face him. “Knaves like Clancy? He had not an upright bone in his disreputable body. He tried turning the crew against you in mutiny. He deserved what he got. Another captain might have taken his life instead of flaying him.”

  “I did kill him.”

  Wesley glanced over. “When?”

  “Before we sailed. At the Cock and Crown.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t come to an end sooner.”

  “There was a pistol aimed at his head. The fool lowered his guard and Clancy struck. I brought him down.”

  “The night you signed on a new crew?”

  “Yes.” Another crew. He prayed this bunch would not see the same fate.

  “Let the guilt go,” Wesley said.

  “Let go?” Stephen roared. “Are you out of your bloody mind?” He shoved his hands through his hair. “I cannot let it go. How can you ask it of me?”

  “Because I was once a member of your crew.” Wesley’s gaze impaled his.

  “Can you say you would have accepted death and been in favor of life for me? I told you. Stop spouting nonsense.”

  “Is friendship drivel? Is a man’s loyalty rubbish?” Wesley shouted back. “Do not belittle the admiration your crew gave you. Do not permit their deaths to be pointless.”

  “But they were pointless! Senseless. The damned Prince . . .” His anger was so great he trembled from the force of it.

  “Hear me, Stephen. You are my friend. I am speaking to you as my brother. Your men valued your judgment. They would not have followed your orders without question if they felt disdain. They may have been rude or audacious at times. But, the crew respected their captain. And they would have killed anyone who said otherwise.”

  “Good God, Wesley. Enough!” Stephen stomped across the deck to lean his forearms on the wooden rail.

  How much more was he expected to take? He rubbed his temples, his brain ready to explode.

  Must he endure ridicule from everyone? He could still see tears in Jennifer’s eyes. She refused to let them fall as she pleaded with him not to go. He’d forced her to issue her ultimatum. Th
en he cut out her heart when he chose revenge, signifying his thirst for vengeance more important than her love.

  Bloody hell.

  What an ass?

  What a bloody fool?

  A sailor’s life was uncertain, the past year had proven that. Until he’d left Jennifer in her father’s house, he’d never been lonely. But he missed her. Missed her smile. Missed running his fingers through her ebony strands. Missed her warmth, her kisses. The woman knew how to send his body up in flames.

  Nothing had charged his adrenaline like Serpent’s Ghost swashbuckling on the high seas. Being on the Lady Mistress did not hold the all-consuming appeal sailing once did. Because he embarked on a mission for vengeance? Or because a pair of lavender eyes haunted his soul?

  Jennifer enticed him beyond all imagining. She didn’t give a whit for his lack of title. Even entrenched with her family, she’d stayed true to him. She’d gone against her father once, he did not presume she would do so again. Yet, their sweet joining only a short time ago more than implied her choice. Had he not sailed out of the harbor, he might even be with her this moment.

  Her father’s approval or no.

  But then, perhaps her father might accept him on the consequence that Stephen had returned his daughter to him.

  Jennifer—a dream come true. She could become a reality. Once he’d tasted her, a sweet fire burned within. Having known such fire with his angel, he’d be willing to burn in her fire for the rest of his life. He could not allow her to slip away.