The Infamous Rogue Part 33

"What would you like to know, Belle?"

"Well...I've come to believe my brothers will remain bachelors forever, especially James. He's so stubborn sometimes." She grimaced. "All right, he's stubborn al the time.

But now I learn there was a period in his life when he was happy with a woman. What happened?"

"I wanted to be married." She shrugged. "He did not."

"I see." Mirabelle was pensive. "I'm not sure if I should be surprised or not by that answer. I don't know my brother's heart very well, a'tal ."

He had a small heart, thought Sophia. A black heart. There was room inside the gnarled muscle for his brothers and his sister. But no more. There was no s.p.a.ce for her. There had never been any s.p.a.ce for her.

Sophia rubbed her hands in her skirt, drying them. "I didn't think I would ever see him again."

"I suppose that's my fault. It was I who dragged him and the rest of my brothers into society. But I don't think James appreciates it. I don't think he's fitting into society."

Sophia snorted inwardly. How was a barbarian supposed to fit into society without polished manners, grace, or charm?

"But you seem to be doing well, Bel e."

Mirabelle chuckled. "I am. At last!"

The d.u.c.h.ess was also a pirate's daughter. She, too, had a scandalous past. And yet she was wed and respected. Sophia admired her for the accomplishment. She intended to achieve the same feat herself one day. And there was no reason to suspect she wouldn't be just as content as the d.u.c.h.ess.

What will you do when you're hungry, Sophia? What wil you do when you're married and your bones throb in the dead of night? Who will you turn to?

Sophia shut her eyes tight and willed away the blackguard's taunts. She would endure the pa.s.sionless marriage bed, the cordial bond with her husband. It was easier to bear than the ostracism and ridicule she was sure to confront as a fallen woman.

"And you are content, aren't you, Bel e?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you happy being a d.u.c.h.ess?"

Mirabelle snorted.

"What's the matter, Belle? Is the duke a poor husband?"

"Not a'tall!" Mirabelle sounded aghast. "He's the best man I know, truly. And I love him dearly...I only wish sometimes he wasn't a duke."

Sophia was bewildered. "What?"

"It's such a bother, the pomp and presentation." She sighed. "I'd much rather live in a small and comfortable home, settled near my family and friends."

"And you can't have both?"

"No," she repined. "The demands placed upon me as d.u.c.h.ess keep me busy and distracted. I spend very little time with my friends, and even less time with my brothers, who are often at sea. Although to hear my husband complain, you'd think my kin was at the castle all the time." She transferred the slumbering babe from one shoulder to the next. "It's just that after my mother died in childbirth to Quincy, and my siblings took to the sea, I lost a sense of family. I prefer an intimate, more homely upbringing for my own children."

That the d.u.c.h.ess had a t.i.tle and respectability-and didn't really want it-disarmed Sophia. She had struggled for so long to achieve her goal, she had never thought to wonder: Would she be happy elsewhere in the world? With someone other than the earl?

...Like James?

Sophia mulled over the thought. But the memory of her affair with James on the tropical island tormented her. She had tried to live apart from social mores. The sensual and dreamy encounters she had shared with the pirate captain had lasted for only a year. It was impossible to evade the pressures from society, she had learned. Even the rebellious Black Hawk obeyed some social convention, for he had refused to marry his mistress.

"And James was most adamant I not become a d.u.c.h.ess."

Sophia dismissed the longing in her breast, the longing to recapture and change the past, to inquire: "So he didn't want you to marry?" The brigand had made the opposite claim during the earl's country house party. Sophia remembered the words: I approve of her marrying. It was hard to forget the words, for they rankled her even now. "Ever?"

"Oh, James wanted me to wed. I was the biggest thorn in his side for years because I refused to marry and have babies and be a proper woman."

Sophia's heart pulsed with vigor. Was that what the barbarian considered proper for a woman: marriage and babies? He had denounced both on the island, the wretched, lying devil!

"But James loathed the duke, considered him an irredeemable rogue. I was determined to marry Damian, though. t.i.tle and all. I entered his world to be with him. And I dragged my brothers-and their enemies-into it, as well."

Sophia stilled her whirling thoughts. "Enemies? Like the impostors?"

Mirabelle lifted a brow. "You know about them?"

"Yes, James told me about the rogues raiding ships in his name."

"He trusted you well enough to tel you, did he?"

The woman sounded...pleased?

Sophia pressed onward: "Black Hawk is dead."

"What?"

"That's what James said."

"Oh. Yes. Metaphorically."

"And now there are a lot of smaller men out there, looking to claim the notorious t.i.tle."

"I'm afraid so."

"And they're keeping Black Hawk's name alive."

"Unfortunately, yes." Mirabelle sighed in exasperation. "That's why James and the rest of my brothers are here. They've come to make inquiries into the ident.i.ties of the impostors."

Sophia gathered her breath, temper still rankled. But she had learned one pressing piece of information: James wasn't staying at the castle to thwart her plans to marry the earl. He was staying at the castle because he was hunting the impostors. She didn't like the situation. However, she understood it better. And just as soon as Lady Lucas was recovered, she and Sophia would depart from the keep and resume her quest for a husband. A few days with the d.u.c.h.ess was enough time to quiet any gossip about her and her "disappear ance," she was sure. And then she would be rid of the barbarian for good.

A breathless figure approached, sprinting. "Your Grace!"

Mirabelle quickly lifted to her feet.

Sophia followed.

"What is it, f.a.n.n.y?" The woman's words were clipped.

The maid kicked up the pebbles as she skidded to a stop, wheezing. "There's...a...

snake."

"Where?" Mirabelle snapped. "In the nursery?"

"In the kitchen."

"Oh, f.a.n.n.y."

Mirabelle sighed. The babe started to make mewling sounds, and the d.u.c.h.ess bounced him on her shoulder.

"The garden snakes are everywhere this time of year," she said in a chastising voice.

"They're looking for somewhere warm to hide for the winter. If one's slipped inside the kitchen, don't panic. The creature's harmless."

"No, Your Grace." The maid gasped for breath. "It's a big snake."

"Hel 's fire." Mirabelle glanced at Sophia, frowning. "It'd slipped my mind. James brought a snake to the castle. He's had it for years. It's some sort of pet."

Sophia!

The babe was wailing. Mirabelle said in a raised voice, "It must have escaped its cage."

Sophia's heart throbbed. The loathing welled inside her until she tasted the bile in her throat. She looked at the maid. "Take me to the snake. I'll take care of it."

The maid balked.

Mirabelle looked confused.

"Don't worry, Belle." She winked. "I lived on a tropical island, remember? I know how to deal with snakes."

Sophia started for the castle.

The maid quickly scurried beside her. "Follow me, miss."

Sophia and f.a.n.n.y moved briskly through the garden and approached the castle. Inside, Sophia centered her thoughts on the wicked reptile, her cursed namesake. She hated that b.l.o.o.d.y snake. She hated that James cared for it so much.

She curled her fingers into her palms, her fingertips numb as she traversed the stairs and entered the dark labyrinth in the keep's belly.

The kitchen was murky, but the window wells and lamps brightened most shadowy spots. Sophia scanned the main room. The great hearth was filled with steaming iron pots.

There were long wood tables for food preparation, cupboards for dishes. So many places to look. So many places for a wily snake to hide.

Sophia grabbed a meat cleaver off one of the tables. "Where is it?"

f.a.n.n.y was shaking. "There." She pointed to a chair. "Under the seat."

Slowly Sophia advanced. She breathed deep to keep her fingers steady and her heart firm. If she made too much movement or ruckus, she might frighten the snake away. She suspected the yellow boa too big and lazy to move swiftly, but she still didn't want to risk it getting away.

Sophia neared the chair. She spotted a tail curled around the furniture's leg.

She smiled. "Hullo, Sophia."

James thundered through the garden with long strides. He stomped the pebbled walkway and even some of the blooms as he rounded the sharp corners, searching for her.

He paused.

She was crouched beside a blossom, tenderly stroking the rich blue petals. It was her favorite color: deep sea blue. The long and fluffy material of her stark white skirt ballooned around her like a cloud. She was wearing a tight black spencer, and her thick, dark locks spilled over her back in lush waves.

She was so b.l.o.o.d.y beautiful, his heart ached.

"Witch!"

Slowly she glanced at him, her deep brown eyes spirited. "What's the matter, Black Hawk?"

He approached her, loomed above her, casting her in shadow. "You have a black heart, woman."

She lifted to her feet. There was a devilish slant in her fine dark brows. A wicked smile touched her plump and rosy lips. "Do I?"

The pressure mounted in his skul . "You lopped off its head!"

"It was terrorizing the household." She matched his smoldering glare. "What did you expect me to do?"

"It was asleep under a chair," he gritted. "Not terrorizing the household."

The tip of her tongue darted between her lips as she licked her mouth. "What are you so angry about? I didn't kill your precious snake."

He stared at her d.a.m.nable mouth. That hot, plump, kissable mouth. "But you thought it was Sophia, admit it. You heard there was a big snake in the kitchen and you darted after it to kill it. Belle told me about your 'heroics.'"

"Yes, the maid's a fool. She said it was a 'big' snake." She huffed. "It was a long garden snake, is all."

"But you thought it was Sophia."

"Perhaps I did." The rich brown pools of her eyes burned like liquid bronze. She hissed, "I hate that snake."

I hate you, Black Hawk.

He grabbed her cheeks. He sensed the blooms in her hair, the mint leaves on her breath as she'd tasted the herbs from the garden. "Stay away from her."

Sophia showed her fangs. "You protect that snake like a besotted lover guarding his mistress from his jealous wife."

He pressed his nose against hers. "At least she's a faithful mistress."

Sophia took in a slow, deep breath. She slipped her hands across his breast and circled his throat. He shuddered. He let her touch him, even in that vile way, if only to feel her hands on him again.

Her breath quivered as her eyes darkened even more. In a broken voice, she whispered, "I hope one day she escapes from her cage, slithers into bed with you-and strangles you."

She let go of his neck and flounced off.