Steps clattered from around the corner. “Come.” He grabbed her wrist in an unrelenting grip. He had no time for female obstinacy. He had to escape while the town was in chaos. They sped down one alley to another. With great fortune, they came upon no other, reaching the outskirts of town. In the darkness they traveled to the Great House.
“Pack your things. I’ll get the horses ready.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Claire defied him again.
“The devil I’d go anywhere the sight of you exists. But I’ve had the taste of Spanish hospitality in a Castilian prison. Yet the worst depravity is owned by Spanish pirates who go out of their way to torture, rape and murder helpless victims. You are going to Speightstown or further north. There you’ll be safe until the pirates have their ransom which I’m sure the governor will be forced to give once he’s shook out of his drunken sleep.”
“How dare you call Governor Stark a drunkard.”
“I gave him a draught myself this eventide to abate the pain from his arthritis. It’ll be a hard time for the pirates to wake him. During that time, the dirty Spanish will be capable of anything. Now hurry, and do as I command.”
Out of a dark corridor, Cookie clung to a mallet and clucked after him like a disgruntled fowl, disheveled and in a state of panic. Devon quieted her with a word of reassurance to collect her belongings and hurry her mistresses along.
“Do as he says, Claire.” Lily caught her cousin’s arm and climbed the stairs.
Devon rounded the front of the house with four fresh mounts. So as not to draw the pirates from town, he muted the light of a lantern to give them the illumination needed. He assisted Lily first, tying her bag behind her.
“Oh Devon,” Lily shuddered. “I do thank you for saving our lives this wretched night. But what of Robert? Tell me, Jarvis did not hurt him.”
It struck him the love and concern she had for the navigator. What he’d do to hear the same adoration from Claire’s lips. Instead, he was met with her cruel betrayal. His eyes narrowed on Claire, and she shifted. “I am sorry to say he is in bad shape at the moment. Your uncle exercised his displeasure.”
“Please tell him, I-I love him,” Lily whispered.
Devon stood amazed from this confession. The staid and prim Lily did not seem like the type to demonstrate any visible sentiments. “You have a good heart, unlike another in your company.” He dropped the hint with a vicious sneer. “I will be sure to tell him, Lily, to give him hope. This I promise.”
He helped Cookie mount, and she fussed over him. “Have a care, Dr. Blackmon. I think ye’re a fine man. Please send my regards to Ben. I mean Mr. Bloodsmythe.”
This too surprised Devon. “Aye. I’ll give your regards to Ben.”
Devon bridled when he turned to Claire. She had the audacity to glare at him with burning, reproachful eyes. He hauled her, kicking and fighting back into the house. He backed her into a wall, imprisoning her with his body, his lips curled in disgust. She had to answer for what she did to Ames. And why the fool escapade into Port Royale to see the governor when it was under attack? What if the Spanish had caught them? It skewered him like a hot poker.
So close to her, he could feel her body heat. A subtle tantalizing hint of lavender mixed withherscent assailed him. The warmth and soft curves beckoned him. The memory of the day before flooded back, the sweet, salt taste, the feel of her mouth on his, her tender moans and soft breasts. Surely it had meant more. Despite her miserable treachery, he wanted to remember the whole of her. The simple evidence, so very clear at this moment, burst the fires of hell in his mind and body. He wanted to damn his desire, damn the vows and end the fascination that had carried him to such flaming heights of wanting. He fought the wild longing to seize her then and there, fought the furious fates that had brought him to her this night.
She bucked beneath him.
“Let go of me. You’re nothing but a libertine. I saw you with Anne Jensen making a spectacle of yourself on a boat in the harbor. Don’t deny it. How many other women have you been with?”
“You faithless witch. So in anger you set your uncle on Ames?”
When she remained defiantly mute, he grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. “So you take your petty revenge on an innocent soul, fomenting a beating that almost killed Robert? If the Spanish had not been so precipitous, Ames would be dead, and I’d be gelded under that very lash. Your jealousy speaks volumes.” He laughed, and she spat at him.
“I have no idea what you are talking about you lowlife barbarian. I have met no one cruder or coarser, than you.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“You vile loathsome creature, prancing about as a stud for every woman, young or old.”
“It spoils a man, indeed it does−to be the object of so much salacious interest.” He laughed again when he saw her rage.
“I hope I never see you again.”
He gritted his teeth. “That my dear will be a wish you’ll soon realize.”
Claire halted. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think I’d trust that weapon in your hand? Your deceit and lies know no bounds. If I were inclined toward violence toward women, Claire, you’d be black and blue.”
She pushed away from him, her anger spurring her to a wild momentum, and still he was quicker, catching her. “You who speak of intimacy then lace it with threats. What of you, Dr. Blackmon? What of your vows? You cavort−”
