The Hellion (The Lady Knights of Barony Book One ) (18 page)

Mudiwa
swiped a tear from the corner of her eye and shuddered, her body and soul longing for the man she loved so dearly. She tried to imagine his arms around her and his lips pressed to her shoulder, to pretend he was sleeping beside her, his body spooning hers from behind. With the memory of what it felt like to be close to her lover came an inevitable pain. Asita could never be hers.

Caribbean Sea, off the coast of the island of Martinique 1857 (12 years later)

“I believe that I my orders were quite specific.”

“It couldn’t be helped. She would have killed us if we hadn’t stopped her.”

Dorian Blake turned his cruel, dark eyes on the man at his left. Geoffery’s neck burned red with anger as he pierced five members of the ship’s crew with his cool stare. Blake had indeed been very specific about the African captive’s worth. She was not to be touched, he’d said, and until now Geoffrey had been happy to see that the command had been followed. She had been locked below with the others, safe until a few of the crewmen had decided to drag her to their quarters to have a little bit of fun.

Now they’d gone and upset Blake, which was something no man Geoff had ever known wanted to do. The man was cold, calculating and devastating in his fury. By the look in his eyes, Geoff knew that those men were very likely to find themselves at the other end of a pistol. They were really quite lucky that they were within one day of Martinique or they would have found themselves keelhauled. Were that to happen, they would be wishing for the business end of a gun.

“Do not try to justify what you’ve done,” he barked at the man who’d dared to speak up in his own defense. “She wouldn’t have fought you if you’d left her alone like I instructed.”

Geoff eyed the dark woman with a small niggling of sympathy. The men had worked her over good before he’d been able to stop them. Fingerprints stood out, purple against her brown skin and a swollen bruise kept one eyelid lowered over a dark eye. With the uninjured eye, she glared at him from where she sat on the floor, hands tied behind her back. Blood trickled from her nose and from a gash across her forehead. The fury he found there burned hotter than Blake’s and Geoff tore his eyes away with a shiver. It was a good thing they’d gotten her under control. His crewmen were in similar shape and one had even been killed. The woman had spirit, he’d give her that.

Dorian pulled a revolver from the waistband of his breeches and removed half the bullets. He dropped them into Geoff’s palm and snapped the cylinder back into place before spinning it, a deadly gleam in his eye.

“Let’s allow fate to decide your punishments, shall we?”

Geoff took a step back as Blake walked up to the first of five sailors and placed the pistol between his eyes. He pulled the trigger. Every man on deck flinched in anticipation, but only the click of an empty chamber filled their ears. The first crewman sighed with relief, deflating visibly as Blake moved on to the next.

The second man was not so fortunate. When the gunshot rang out over the open sea and the man fell forward onto the deck, Blake merely stepped over his body and moved on. By the time he got to the last offender, three were dead. The last two standing glanced at each other with wide eyes, unsure of what was coming next.

Blake took the bullets from Geoff’s open palm and shoved them back into the cylinder. “When I give an order...” he snapped the cylinder into place and returned the gun to its place in his breeches. “I expect it to be followed. Do we understand each other gentlemen?”

“
Oui capitaine,” they responded in unison.

Blake turned to
Teeb, a beefy sailor who had a deadly reputation with the cat ‘o nines. There wasn’t a man on board
The Raven
that didn’t fear Teeb and his thick-handled, nine-tailed whip. “Ten lashes each for their impertinence,” he commanded.

Geoff turned his back on the dismayed expressions of the remaining men and fell in beside Blake as he crossed the deck toward the injured African. Her long, lithe legs were curled beneath her and her full breasts were thrust forward by the bindings holding her arms behind her. Her chest heaved with heavy breath and her uninjured eye flinched as they leaned over her.

“Have Dolly clean her up and put her in your chambers until we dock in St. Pierre. You’re not too dignified to sleep in a hammock in my quarters tonight, are you Geoff?”

“Monsieur, your sister…”

“Oui, find the lazy cow and tell her to clean up this mess and stop the bruising in her blasted eye!”

“You left her to the king of Cardenas, remember? By now she is probably hanging from the end of a rope.”

Blake frowned as if trying to recall , stroking his smooth chin. Geoff waited patiently, knowing that Dorian’s madness was responsible for his absent-mindedness. No one knew the cause of the affliction and Geoff had never found the courage to ask. He merely tolerated it as the pay was good and Blake had done him a favor years ago that still required repayment.

“Hmmm,” Dorian mumbled as he narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly.
“Of course. I had forgotten. I don’t suppose that was the best of ideas, was it? The ungrateful bitch did have her uses. Ah well, there’s nothing for it Geoffrey. You’ll simply have to tend to the girl yourself.”

“Me, Monsieur?”

“You’re the only one I trust to keep your hands to yourself. I know that your tastes run in less…conventional directions.”

Geoffrey shifted uncomfortably and jerked at his collar. It wasn’t common knowledge that he preferred men and he so hated that Blake felt the need to constantly bring it up. He tamped down his annoyance faster than it had risen and nodded.

“Of course,” he answered, bending down to take the girl by the arm.

He pulled her to her feet and moved across the deck with her in the direction of his cabin. Though he knew the girl spoke English, she’d never uttered a word in his presence. However, she did follow him docilely to his cabin.

“Let’s get you fixed up,” he sighed. “And not an ounce of trouble out of you, comprendre? I do not intend for you to be the death of me.”

****

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