Katherine clawed the table. “And Black Tom Butler won.”
He nodded. “But with your father’s help. After two years, he was allowed to reside in Southwark, under guard and with restrictions. As you can well understand, he tried to escape, but the sea captain who was to aid him turned Judas. I believe the queen herself was most happy that they finally had some substantial charge with which to rid themselves of Desmond. He was tried for treason and convicted, his lands and title forfeit, two years ago. As far as I know, he is still under arrest at St. Leger House in Southwark.”
Katherine was dazed by what he had told her—dazed and dismayed. The refrain drummed through her brain: she was Mistress Nobody now, Mistress Nobody. “You are telling me that my father has been a prisoner ever since Affane.”
He nodded, watching her. “In the end, the need to bring southern Ireland under the Crown’s control, once and for all, won the day. As your father was the most powerful lord in Ireland, and the most defiant, his fate was doomed the moment Butler took him prisoner at Affane.”
Katherine closed her eyes, giving in to a moment of despair. Her father had been in one prison or another ever since she had left southern Ireland for France. For six years, he had been confined. And he had lost everything. How unjust it was. “I cannot believe this,” she whispered. “Dear Lord, I cannot.” And now she had lost everything, too. Now she had no future. No gentleman would want her—no one but this pirate would want her now.
“You must face the truth if you wish to survive.” His piercing tone brought her eyes to his face. His gaze held hers. “Listen closely to one who knows. I am a man of the sea, without either clan or country, and in order for me to survive, I must know every happenstance of import worldwide—and my actions are directed accordingly.”
She stared at him unblinkingly. “You are an O’Neill. I do not understand you. You have a clan, you have a country. And if you have chosen otherwise, then that was your stupidity.”
His smile was grim. “My father was as Irish as you are, but my mother was an Englishwoman. I was given no choice in the matter. Stupidity had little to do with the union between my parents, violence had everything to do with it. The O’Neills consider me as English as the queen. The English think me a savage like my father.”
He spoke flatly, without self-pity or regret. Katherine stared at him, and his meaning hit her, hard. Their situations in life were similar. Like her, he had a useless name, and did not have a powerful family behind him. He survived by facing the truth and weathering any storm that should arise. He was advising her to weather this particular one, now. “So I can only survive now by welcoming you into my bed?” she said bitterly. “After all, I am the perfect victim for a man like you. There is no one to challenge you for aught that you do to me, no one to demand satisfaction when you ruin me. There will be no political storms engendered by your abduction of me, or by your abuse.”
His eyes were bright with undisguised interest now. “An intelligent woman,” he murmured. “Beautiful, headstrong, and intelligent—how very rare.”
Despite herself, Katherine flushed. His words could notpossibly be flattery, even if they sounded like such. The ideal woman was neither headstrong nor clever, but chaste and demure and given to obedience in all matters great and small. But he was smiling at her as if he were most pleased with his discovery. Katherine lifted her chin. “I will not be your victim. I do not believe I am without a single protector in this world. I do not believe that you can do with me as you will and walk away freely from such heinous deeds.”
His jaw flexed and he rose to his towering height. “You are a victim, Katherine. You are a victim of political circumstance.” His stare was hard. “But I did not decide your father’s fate—I did not pronounce his guilt and sentence him accordingly. Do not blame me for your father’s rash actions and the queen’s determination to end his defiance. I did not take away your inheritance, your name, or your station in life.”
“I blame you foryourrash actions,” she cried scornfully, her fists clenched.
His smile flickered. “I amneverrash.” He started to walk around the table toward her. Katherine backed up—against the wall. Her pulse rioted as he paused before her. His smile was dangerous. “But you are right about one thing.”
She did not want to know his thoughts, and kept silent.
His gaze slid over her face. “You do have a protector, Katherine, one single protector in all of this world, and that is me.”
She gasped. “But you will not protect me from yourself!”
He chuckled then, the sound rich and amused. “You have misconstrued it all. You do not need to be protected from me. My intention is not to hurt you. My intention is to protect you from the rest of the world, to provide for your needs, to pleasure you. I only wish that you come to me willingly. There is naught else for you to do, Katherine. You have no other choices in this life.” His gaze turned to smoke. “The moment I first saw you, I knew you would become my mistress.”
“No,” Katherine said tightly. “My answer to you isno! I am not about to become yourmistress!” It was exceedingly difficult for her to say that horrid word.
“You will change your mind when you have calmed down, when you have had a chance to reconcile yourself to fate and circumstance.”
“I will never change my mind! My father may be a prisoner, but my dreams still live!” And Katherine knew it was true. Nothing could kill her dreams, not even the unkind facts of life, not even this unkind man.
“Your dreams are dead,” he said softly. “Killed by circumstance. Killed by fate.”
“No!” She blinked back hot tears. He stared at her, but she hardly saw him. “Damn the Butlers!” she said bitterly. “Damn the Council—damn the queen!”
“Katherine! Sweet Mother of Christ! What has he done to you!” Juliet cried.
The pirate had left her when she began to weep. Exhausted, Katherine had finally subsided into a heap on the bed she had been determined to avoid. She had not been aware of the passage of time, nor of Juliet’s entering the room. Now, as Juliet hugged her, she sat up slowly. Her head ached from the long debate she had waged with the pirate, and from her equally arduous defense against him. She was also exhausted from having spent every moment since he had left her alone analyzing the choices and alternatives left to her. So far, there did not appear to be any of significance.
She returned Juliet’s embrace. “I am fine,” she whispered. It was hardly the truth. “He did not—” Her voice cracked. “He did not take my virtue.”
“Thank God,” Juliet breathed, her look dark with concern. She smoothed curling red hair from Katherine’s face. “Did he…hurt you?”
Katherine hesitated. “Not really.” She was still aghast at her body’s treacherous sensuality, and even now, she could not shake his too-golden image from her mind. “Are you well? Unharmed?” she asked.
Juliet nodded. “The crew has been ordered to stay away from both of us.”
Katherine’s gaze was inquiring.
