She crossed the room again, drawn to the dwindling firelight, and fought the urge to scream or cry—or both. The past four days sat upon her shoulders like an unbearable burden. Everything she’d believed about her aunt had been a lie. Her every dream for the future was crushed.
And the one man she’d begun to regard as her ally, believed to be more than a manipulative bully, had used and left her.
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Without future or direction now, she was all alone.
Finally, he returned. The night’s wind swept into the room with him, as cool as his masked features. His silence gave no hint of his mood.
He turned to Hancock. “Is her valise still in the coach?”
“Aye,” the first mate answered.
With a nod, the captain faced her. “Get in the coach.”
“Where are you taking me?” She cursed her trembling voice.
He didn’t answer. She crossed the room to stand before him, hoping proximity would give her a clue about his thoughts or intentions. No such luck.
His expression remained perfectly hollow, without a single hint of anything as messy as emotion.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Get in the coach.”
Head held high, she considered telling him to take himself off to Hades, but knew his behavior stemmed from the shock of her confession.
Without waiting for her, the Black Dragon spun around and strode through the door, toward the waiting coach.
The damp night air cut across her skin as Christina discovered that the captain had already seated himself in the coach. Hancock assisted her up, then shut the door, leaving them in shared stillness.
As the vehicle rolled away, sharp silence stretched like a thin wire between them. Christina stared at the Black Dragon, awaiting his reaction, preferably an apology. He uttered nothing, training his stare out the window.
Minutes lasted hours. And still, he said not one word. He merely gazed out the window, as if she did not sit directly across from him. As if she did not exist.
“You left me on that beach,” she accused, unable to hold her torment in any longer. “I could barely dress myself.”
He didn’t even spare her a glance. “You managed.”
“With difficulty. I realize you’re quite unhappy about who I am, but it need not change us.”
“There is no ‘us,’” he said quietly, sparing her only the briefest of glances.
“What gave you the notion there was?”
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His words struck her like a slap. Notion? She’d given him everything! Her affection, her body, her innocence. Could he have forgotten their ecstasy so quickly? Had he chosen to pretend their lovemaking meant nothing now that he knew her as the Duke of Manchester’s granddaughter?
The tears she’d held back earlier spilled down her cheeks. “You—you miserable knave! How could you say something so terrible?” she sobbed. “You tr-reat me as if I’ve wronged you, yet I’m guilty of nothing but speaking the truth.”
Fists clenched, she waited for his reaction. Tears tracked down her face anew at his taut jaw and chilling silence.
“You—you detestable bastard!” she shouted.
The coach stopped. Craving fresh air and escape, she lunged for the door.
The captain wrapped forceful fingers about her arm to stay her.
“You’re not going anywhere unless I take you there.”
Implacability dominated his voice, brooking no argument. Too bad she was in the mood for a rousing fight.
Christina jerked from his grasp and swiped the tears from her face. “I can go anywhere I please. You don’t own me, not anymore, now that you’ve had your pound of flesh.”
“Care to return to your aunt?” he taunted.
“If I did, at least I would expect a stranger would treat me like a trollop,”
she shot back. “Though next time should be easier, now that you’ve shown me what to expect.”
Christina whirled for the door again, seeking only freedom. Plans and safety would come later, though neither would involve her scandalous aunt.
The Black Dragon hooked his arm about her waist. Dragging her against his steely chest, despite her struggles, he whispered, “What else did you expect, fucking a man whose name you don’t know and whose face you’ve never seen?”
She stilled, struck by the ugly truth of his words.
Over the course of the past six weeks, the small detail of his name had ceased to be relevant. She’d even come to accept the mask as part of his daily attire, which he would doff once she revealed herself. Christina thought she’d
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known him, enough to believe him decent and good, if overzealous and misguided.
Tonight proved she hadn’t known him at all.
“Let me go! I will not travel another mile with you.”
“I’m afraid, Lady Christina, that you don’t have a choice.”
* * *
Four miserable weeks later, Christina hugged her knees to her chest, feeling the sway of the ship…and knowing her heart had broken. She hadn’t seen the Black Dragon once this voyage. Hancock delivered all her meals.
Anything he had to say to her, Hancock acted as his voice.
The captain had even sent his messenger to inquire if she’d had a monthly since their foolish encounter on the beach. She had, thank you, but wasn’t about to say so. Why would he care if she carried his bastard? He had certainly proven he no longer wanted her.
She sank down onto his bunk, the embroidered black dragon on his coverlet an ever-present reminder of him. She’d been foolish to trust a criminal like the Black Dragon with her heart, foolish to allow herself to fall in love with a faceless, nameless man.
Yes, love. Christina dropped her aching head in her hands and succumbed to tears.
For a pirate, or privateer as he preferred, he had seemed so intelligent and reliable, so stable yet concerned. He had represented everything she wasn’t but needed to be. At times, he had behaved much like grandfather, but possessed an unexpectedly gentle heart.
How could she have been so wrong in her perceptions to not see the cad lurking beneath?
The key scraped in the door’s lock, and she looked up to see Hancock shuffle through the portal with her meal. She hung her head, feeling hot tears scald her eyes.
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The first mate set the tray at her feet. Even the thought of food made her stomach turn sickly. She rolled away.
“Leave me.” Her voice was muffled by the coverlet.
“Lady Christina, ye must eat,” he insisted. “Yer wastin’ away to nothing but skin `n bones, lass.”
“Take it!” she sobbed.
“I’ll leave it here, in case ye change yer mind. And I’m to tell you that we’re making land tomorrow.”
Hancock definitely didn’t have the comforting knack. At the thought of never seeing the Black Dragon again, she buried her face in her pillow and squeezed fresh tears from her eyes.
Soon, she would be separated from the man she loved, and he couldn’t be bothered to tell her so himself! She might never see him again. Whether she would plead for his affection or scream into his contemptible face if she did, she wasn’t sure.
“Best pack yer things, lass. I’ll come fetch ye in the morn.” With that, Hancock departed, leaving her utterly alone with only misery for company.
* * *
“Is she better today?” Drex grilled Hancock the moment the short man stepped into the infirmary, where Drex had been making his bed these past weeks.
“The same.”
Hancock’s frown prompted additional concern. Drex reined in the urge to shake answers from his first mate. “Well, out with it, man. What did she say to the news we’ve arrived?”
He shook his head. “Nothin’, Cap’n. She cried a little more and turned her nose up at èr food again.”
Drex swore, apprehension gnawing at his guts. This should have been simple. He’d only made love to her once. Why the hell wouldn’t she leave him to