The Lady and Her Pirate Duke

by Jilian Rouge

  Nicholas groaned into her mouth while she tried to wriggle away from him without causing further pain to her scalp. He let go of her hair long enough to back her against the nearest wall, but he didn’t remove his knife. “I knew you would taste this sweet,” he panted as his free hand found its way underneath the billowy shirt she wore. Her skin crawled at his touch, but she was worried about Ernest. Her view of the alley where he and Blackburn had stood was blocked by Nicholas, but she could still hear their grunts and the sounds of flesh being pummeled as they grappled for control.

  Her mind screamed Get off me! But the words remained frozen on her tongue. She heard whimpering noises only to realize belatedly that they were coming from her. Nicholas’ hand now reached the waistband of her trousers, and she sobbed weakly, “No, please don’t.”

  In a fit of rage, Ernest broke away from Blackburn then, racing to reach Belhaven and pull him away from his sister. Yanking Belhaven by the collar, Ernest pointed Blackburn’s pistol at his back and growled menacingly, “I will kill you for touching her!”

  Georgie closed her eyes, fully expecting the pistol to go off, but no sound was forthcoming. She opened her eyes in time to see Ernest’s eyes widen, his face frozen in shock. The end of a sabre protruded from the middle of his chest, and Georgie cried out in horror, “Ernest, no!”

  Then a flurry of events happened all at once; Georgie wasn’t sure if any of it was real. Ernest fell to the ground in a heap after Blackburn retracted his blade from Ernest’s body. A crowd of men flooded into the alley, led by Rafe. Nicholas grabbed her once again, the knife back at her throat. Blackburn snatching the pistol from Ernest’s lifeless hand.

  She stared numbly at her brother’s prone body, his eyes staring sightlessly back at her. She couldn’t hear or understand what was being shouted around her; she could hear Rafe shouting—at her maybe—and Nicholas shouting back in answer. Her brother had been murdered right in front of her, and she thought I should be enraged. I should be killing the man who did this.

  But her body was being held immobile by Nicholas. She couldn’t move; she felt icy cold on the inside and was frozen in place. This must be shock, she thought. Her body wasn’t listening to her, and she desperately wanted to do damage to Nicholas and Blackburn for this horrible state of affairs.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed as the shouting continued around her, but she couldn’t comprehend what was being said. But that numbness began slowly thawing the more she fed her rage, the longer she stared at her brother’s body. Soon enough, that rage threatened to boil over as she dwelled heavily at the injustice served to her, to her brother, and to Rafe.

  The need to survive to exact revenge was prevalent in Georgie’s mind, and in that moment, her mind was the clearest it had ever been. The realization of what was being said finally registered in her brain, and she was stunned to realize Rafe had been pleading with Nicholas to release her. To her surprise, she watched as Rafe looked ready to lay down his own pistol, but she needed him to still wield it.

  Aiming a sharp glance in Rafe’s direction, she hoped he would notice that she was wiggling her two fingers in negation of his action and even swung her one foot back and forth in a small kicking motion. Rafe’s eyes flickered her way once before focusing back onto Nicholas, and Georgie prayed that he understood what her own motions meant.

  Whether or not Rafe understood, Georgie was going to put her own quickly made plans into action.

  Nicholas didn’t maintain his strong grip from before; he didn’t have to when she had withdrawn into herself moments before. It was now or never, and she was going to take advantage of his loose grip before she lost the chance to make her move.

  Rendering her body completely limp, Nicholas had to move to catch her before he lost his hostage and thus his only leverage. But before Georgie could completely fall to the ground, she popped up and swung an elbow backwards into Nicholas’ abdomen, then again into his face when he had doubled over in hurt and surprise. His nose bled freely as she watched his head snap backwards. Then with a swift back kick, she aimed her boot heel square into his groin, causing him to double over once again.

  A shot from Rafe’s pistol had nicked the top of Nicholas’ arm that held the knife, and Georgie ran straight for Rafe.

  Blackburn was frozen in surprise at the swiftness of everything, watching wide-eyed as Nicholas clutched at his bleeding shoulder that he missed the chance to grab at Georgie. Georgie ran straight into Rafe’s arms where he wrapped her tightly against his chest. With her safe in his arms, Rafe yelled, “Gentlemen!” The men behind him rushed forward with their bayonets aimed directly at Belhaven and Blackburn. There wasn’t much the two could do other than surrender their meager weapons, outnumbered as they were. Soon they were led away, with their hands tied at the wrist behind them.

  Finally, the perpetrators were being dealt with and would be put to trial as soon as they could be sent to London. Lord Manning would have to be located and brought home. There would be no more abductions of this scale in Peverill Green.

  But for Rafe, that was a small victory compared to what he was left to deal with. He and Georgie had just lost a brother in Ernest, and there was no telling how Georgie would react once she stopped shivering in his arms.

  18

  The few men that were left behind offered to help transport Ernest’s body back to Penticton Manor. Georgie watched with tears falling unheeded down her face as they gently laid him in the back of a cart, and her voice wavered a little as she gave the driver directions to their parents’ home. Rafe stood at her side, offering her the comfort of his nearness, as she watched the cart carrying her brother’s body ambled away.

  Without a word, Rafe led her to his horse and silently helped her mount his horse before climbing up behind her. Georgie remained mute, not even to tell him she had one of the Lyonscar horses tied up nearby. Somehow, he knew where the borrowed horse was located, which told of Rafe’s awareness of Georgie’s unbidden escapade. Tying the horse to his own with a long lead, the horse was content to follow amiably behind at a slow canter.

  Neither Georgie nor Rafe said a word on the ride home back to Lyonscar with the events of the evening still too close in their minds to talk about it. Arriving at the stables instead of the front lawn of Lyonscar, Rafe shooed the stablehands away and told them to leave for the time being.

  Helping Georgie down from his horse, he asked, “Help me stable the horses?”

  Georgie simply nodded stiffly and followed him deeper into the stable. In silence, they worked to settle the horses down for the night, their motions methodical and purposeful. First, saddles and blankets were removed. Rafe fetched towels, one for him, one for Georgie, and they continued ministering to the horses, drying off their coats.

  Rafe glanced over at Georgie, who was now brushing down her horse, but he couldn’t ascertain Georgie’s thoughts based on her bland expression. He had worried about her state of mind on the ride home, but he was glad that their mutual tending of the horses proved a good reprieve from today’s horrifying events, albeit a short one. He himself had been scared for Georgie, when he had seen her helpless and at the receiving end of Nicholas’ knife. And while he was relieved that she was relatively unharmed, he feared that the violent loss of Ernest had already caused irreparable damage.

  Georgie left the stall only to come back with fresh water for the horses, and Rafe had already replaced their troughs with fresh seed and hay. Their tasks complete, exhaustion was visible on both Georgie’s face and posture, and she went without protest when Rafe led her into the house.

  With an arm clutched around Georgie’s shoulders, Rafe barked orders left and right at servants who appeared as soon as they stepped inside. A tray of food, bourbon, and piping hot tea to be sent to the duchess’ chamber. A bath to be drawn. A salve and bandages for the duchess’ wound on her neck.

  That last order had Georgie frowning. She didn’t recall the knife cutting into her skin, but when she touched her ha
nd to her neck, it stung just a little.

  Soon enough, both Rafe and Georgie were closeted in her bedchamber, where the requested tray of food, tea, and preferred choice of liquor as well as a full bath awaited them both. Rafe dismissed her lady’s maid, stating that he would assist the duchess himself when she heavily protested. Georgie ignored the food but poured herself a healthy dose of tea along with a bit of the bourbon that Rafe had requested mostly for himself.

  If Rafe noticed that there was more bourbon in that cup than tea, he made no comment. When she had downed the contents of her cup, Rafe wordlessly helped her undress, once again methodical in his work, with nothing sexual in his intent. He followed suit, and without a word, he led them both into the large bath with him cradling her between his legs, her back to his front. Georgie let him bathe her clean, starting first at her hair, then the rest of her, his movements gentle but comforting.

  Finally, the dam within her burst. Everything she had felt, everything she had gone through in the span of an evening came crashing down on her: Nicholas’ evil purpose; Ernest’s violent end; Rafe’s loving kindness. All of it became too much for her to handle.

  Huge, wracking sobs escaped from her as she bent her head forward, hugging her knees. Rafe murmured, “I have you. Go ahead and cry. I’ll cry along with you,” as he wrapped his arms around her, maintaining his tight hold on her as she sobbed and hiccuped her way through the worst of it.

  Finally, she turned in his arms, half-lying on him as she looked up at him through her tears. He was true to his word; he had cried along with her, his eyes wet and reddened. Knowing that they grieved for Ernest together, that he gave her time to deal with things on her own in the stable, Georgie’s heart swelled even more for this man. No longer could she pin his past mistakes on him, not when he had shown her that she was safe with him. It was tragic that it had taken the loss of Ernest for her to see it.

  In the moments leading up to now, Rafe wasn’t the ruthless pirate captain he made himself to be. To her, he was the man in whom she could fully trust to guard not just her body, but also her emotional and mental well-being. He knew her enough to not press the matter or force her to talk right after the horror of losing her only brother. Her parents would be devastated, and they would probably need an explanation from her directly, but that could wait until the morning.

  For now, she needed Rafe.

  Crawling up his body, she raised herself above him, kneeling above him with her knees astride his hips. Rafe looked at her questioningly, and she looked down at him tenderly. “You were wonderful tonight. You are wonderful,” she whispered as she cradled his face in both of her hands before she touched her lips to his.

  Their kiss was unhurried, almost fragile in its intent, but it spoke volumes of the feelings of tenderness Georgie had swelling in her chest for this man. Rafe broke away gently to say, “You don’t have to do this to reassure me that you’re alright. How could you be after what—”

  She pressed an index finger to his lips to stop him from saying anything further. “No, I will be the first to admit I’m not completely alright. But I want you to know that I need this.” Bringing her hand between them and below the water, she cupped his growing hardness and led his length to the entrance of her core. “I need you Rafe. I believe I will always need you.”

  At those words, Rafe looked deep into her eyes and discovered a wealth of emotion there that had him believing she spoke truthfully. Suddenly, the heavy weight that had been caused by the fear of her leaving him had been lifted off his shoulders, and he let out a slow sigh of happy relief.

  “I love you, firecracker. You had me scared to death of losing you today, and I’m so glad I caught your tiny signals before I left myself unarmed.”

  “I’m glad you did, too. But most of all, I want you to know that I love you, too. I always have. I only realized today that I don’t have to be afraid of letting myself love you, of letting you have all of me. I trust you to keep me safe in all the ways that matter.”

  His answering smile warmed her heart, and in return she sank her hips downwards to completely glove his length within her. His smile melted into a blissful expression, and he threw his head back at the ecstasy. Before she could lift herself up to sink down on him again, he grabbed hold of her hips to keep her sheathed around him.

  At her puzzled look, he told her, “No, don’t move just yet. I want to feel you around me just as I want you to feel me, really feel me inside you. Feel how much I love you through this connection. Body and soul.”

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated at their juncture, and it sent frissons of pleasure to feel his cock pulse deep within her. The height of his arousal, the depth of his love, and his comforting strength surrounding her were all gifts from him to her. She could now freely accept them without the anxious fear that he would hurt her. She knew now that he would physically see himself hurt before he hurt her. It was their time in the stables that clinched it for her.

  “Yes,” she drew out breathily. “Like this, you make me feel whole.” Then she wriggled atop him. “But I’m anxious for you to soothe this ache deep inside, so I’m going to do as I please.”

  Despite his grip on her hips, she grabbed both edges of the tub and leveraged herself upwards to slam herself back down around his cock. He groaned at the feel of her hot, wet passage surrounding him, and she ground herself down against him, feeling the pleasurable shocks of having her little clit graze against his hard abdomen.

  Gripping her by the nape of her neck, Rafe mashed their lips together in an impassioned kiss, their mouths and tongues doing an imitation of what was going on lower down. Their movements grew hurried, more urgent as they sought their pleasure from each other, in each other. Groans and moans sounded in the room as they rode out their lovemaking, seeking relief in each other’s bodies until finally they both cried out in bliss at the same time. Rafe’s own body tensed and hardened beneath Georgie as he came, while Georgie undulated all over him, her own inner tissues swelling and pulsing strongly around him.

  When Rafe could move again, he carried Georgie out of the bath, dried her off, and proceeded to start their lovemaking all over again. This time, in a comfortable bed. Throughout the night, they reassured each other of their love, their very existence in the simple act of human connection through sex. Only for them, their bedplay was affirmation of their mutual need for each other, a physical declaration that they were still alive, their hearts still beating, in sync with the other.

  19

  Epilogue

  It didn’t take long for Blackburn to pay for his crimes against England and humanity in general. Since he had been a wanted man who evaded capture for too long and would be hanging from a gibbet soon enough, he confessed to all he was accused of. The information that leaked out of him also included the name of the ship on which Lord Manning had been stowed. The Narwhal had sailed from England’s shores towards the West Indies, and a Naval ship had been dispatched to retrieve the man.

  Blackburn had also confessed to Rafe’s own abduction years before, but not without implicating Captain Nicholas Belhaven in playing a major role. In fact, he had easily let slip how many times Belhaven had contacted him to “stow away” a few men or women here and there. It was a partnership of sorts, where Belhaven provided the “merchandise” and they had both enjoyed the profits.

  With Belhaven being the son of an earl, he admitted to nothing, citing that his father, the Earl of Bridgingham, would not stand for his son being interrogated in such a manner. Blackburn, with nothing left to lose, had not hesitated to reveal the reasons for Belhaven’s actions in this sordid affair. Blackburn happily disclosed, chortling, “Belhaven wanted nothing more than to be in control at all times. With a father like his, I can see the apple hadn’t fallen too far! Only, Belhaven thought it easier to rid himself of the “undesirables” in his way to create his own fantasy world. Damned sod didn’t stand a chance with so much stacked against him!”

  Both Blackburn and Belhav
en had been charged with the attempted abduction and murder of Ernest Montagu, Marquis of Reddington, the only son and heir of the Earl of Pentiction. They had also been charged with the abduction of Lord Manning as well as their numerous crimes involving slave trading.

  Belhaven, believing he had the backing of his father, had been stunned to find at his trial that his father denounced his son before the entire court. Claiming that Nicholas had brought shame to their good name, the Earl of Bridgingham had washed his hands of this man who had been a disappointment to him too many times to count.

  The court had pronounced them both guilty of their numerous charges and had sentenced them to die by hanging. The families of their victims who were present at both trials had rejoiced that the offenders would be receiving their just reward for the pain they caused.