The Infamous Rogue Part 4

He stretched across the messy feather tick with a loud sigh, and crossed his ankles. He closed his eyes, too.

"What are you going to do at the house party?" said Wil iam.

"Eat."

"Eat who?"

James humphed. "If you're suggesting I'm going to the house party to cause a scandal, I'm not."

But William sounded unconvinced. "Why don't you write to the earl and cancel the trip? Visit with Cora instead. Then you can get the frustration out of your blood and forget about Sophia."

Forget about Sophia? Did the man really think a roll in the sheets with a wh.o.r.e was going to satisfy the dark fire burning in his belly?

He remembered the sultry look in Sophia's fine eyes, the sharp arch in her brows. He remembered the thrilling feel of her round and seductive curves pressed firmly against him, and the smoldering texture to her sa.s.sy voice.

James girded himself against the arousal slowly burning in his blood. No. A tumble in bed with Cora wasn't going to slake the l.u.s.t in his belly...only Sophia could do that.

"No," said James. "I'm going to the house party."

William's footsteps drummed in his ears. He heard the chair legs sc.r.a.pe across the hardwood flooring as William swiveled the seat and sat down.

"I know you're having a wretched time attending parties, James. And Sophia's return only makes matters worse. But we've all had to adjust to the tiresome antics of the ton since retiring from piracy."

What did his brothers have to adjust to? They flirted and danced and charmed the society wenches with aplomb. The men even dined and gambled and snorted snuff with the rest of the peerage with considerable ease.

William suggested, "Look at Belle."

"Look at Bel e?" He opened one eye to glare at his brother. "We're putting ourselves through this h.e.l.l for her."

"Yes, but she had to adapt to her new life, too."

"How?"

"She had to start wearing a dress, for one."

James snorted and closed his eye again. "She should have been wearing one from girlhood."

"With four brothers, a father, and no mother for guidance?"

James stiffened at the mention of their mother. She had died in childbirth to Quincy, leaving a four-year- old Belle without a proper female example. But something more haunted him...

One thought about his mother was like losing his footing and slipping from a cliff. His thoughts tumbled backward with speed and he remembered the low sobs coming from her room when he was just a boy: sobs for his father, recently pressed into service by the navy.

Long before Mirabelle, Edmund, and Quincy had come along, Megan Hawkins had been alone with two small boys and no money or means of support.

You must help me, James. She had stroked his then four-year-old head with frantic regard. You must help me now that Papa is gone. I need you, James. I can't take care of you and William by myself. You wil help Mama, won't you, James?

James dismissed the disturbing memory with a quiet shudder.

"Belle had to wear breeches," said William. "There was no way to avoid it with so many men afoot. But now she's more comfortable with her new position as d.u.c.h.ess. And you'll eventually grow accustomed to being brother-in-law to a duke."

Why did that sound so ominous? James kneaded the pulsing spot at the crown of his nose. Trouble was, he didn't want to grow accustomed to such a stiff existence. He didn't want to pander to the n.o.bs, to kneel before the pompous lords and ladies like a street urchin...but what choice did he have now that Belle was a d.u.c.h.ess?

"Get out, Will. My head is throbbing."

There was no sound of movement.

James opened his watery eyes to see his brother still seated in the chair. "What?" he snapped, and re gretted his clipped tone, for the pressure in his skull strengthened.

"There's one other matter I need to discuss with you."

James growled, wishing all his blasted relatives and their needs to d.a.m.nation. "What is it?"

The door burst open.

Two strapping young bucks stomped into the bedroom, making all the furniture spin and dance.

James grabbed his head and stifled the roaring curse he was sure would do him in if he dared to voice it aloud.

"Did you see this morning's paper?"

Quincy flapped the newsprint, making James dizzy. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore his brethren, but the youngest fledgling refused to be rebuffed.

Quincy smacked the captain across the bare feet with the paper. "Wake up, James. We're famous-again!"

William quickly moved across the room and examined the paper. He sighed loudly.

"Take a look at this, James."

The newsprint shoved in his face, James eyed the bold headline. But the letters only twirled together in quick fashion. "Why don't you just read it to me."

It was Quincy who s.n.a.t.c.hed the paper from William and cleared his throat to impart: "The notorious pirate Black Hawk strikes again!"

James almost didn't give a d.a.m.n, he was so b.l.o.o.d.y f.a.gged...almost. "Read on, Quincy."

"The sea is once more plagued by the dreaded pirate Black Hawk and his wicked crew.

After almost four years of unmolested travel, defenseless ships, like the Lorianne, are again in peril. Last sennight, the pa.s.senger vessel was raided by the marauding rogues and stripped of cargo and personal possessions. The gentlemen aboard remained stoic and brave, the ladies terribly frightened and clinging to their sides." The pages rustled as Quincy theatrically performed: "When wil the Royal Navy bring an end to the infamous bandits' reign of terror? When will we have safe pa.s.sage at sea? I call on you, faithful reader, to demand the pirate leader's head. Only then will justice triumph and the seas be secure." Quincy beamed. "I've missed being in the paper."

William ignored the quip and said, "That's two reports in two months, James. First there was a group of miscreants bootlegging whiskey and rum in our names, and now there's another band attacking pa.s.senger vessels."

"They might be one and same," suggested Edmund.

"That's right," chimed Quincy. "Do you remember the duke's brother, Adam Westmore?"

James had coincidentally robbed the man as Black Hawk a few years ago-and Adam Westmore had maintained a grudge. He had hunted the Bonny Meg and its pirate crew for years, seeking vengeance. But once the two families had united in marriage, the l.u.s.t for blood had ended and a tentative trust had formed.

Quincy scratched his chin. "Adam had stumbled upon a band of bootleggers while looking for us. Their leader was posing as you, James. "

"Rumor of our 'deaths' might have inspired the bold cutthroats to adopt our personas and take al the credit," said William.

"You mean blame," groused Edmund. He settled in a chair and stretched out his long legs, looking much too comfortable, giving James the distinct impression he wasn't going to get much peace that morning. "It hardly seems fair. Someone else gets all the spoils, yet we get al the fault."

William said grimly, "What are we going to do about the impostors, James?"

"Ignore them."

"We can't ignore them," returned William. "We're the ones being accused of the raid."

"So what?"

William frowned. "I know you're still drunk, James, but can't you see the pressing danger?"

James rubbed his aching temples. "I only see one pressing danger: three gutless brothers. Now get the h.e.l.l out of my room. All of you."

Only Quincy budged-to straddle a chair.

James growled. The buzzing voices, the snapping thoughts of Sophia danced in his head, making him more and more irascible.

"What if the authorities go looking for Black Hawk?" wondered William.

"Then they're going to find the miscreant and hang him." James inhaled a sharp breath to soothe the spiking pressure in his head. He said with less bite, "I still don't see the b.l.o.o.d.y problem."

Cool even under the captain's fierce glare, William said in a reasonable manner, "The authorities might stumble upon the real Black Hawk and crew if they search for the impostors."

"That's not going to happen," avowed James.

"Are you sure?" William folded his arms. "There are those who know our true ident.i.ty and might betray us in the wake of the recent report."

"Who? The duke?" James snorted. "He might be a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but he loves Belle. He wouldn't betray us, if only for her sake."

Damian Westmore, the Duke of Wembury, was an infamous villain, dubbed the "Duke of Rogues" by his peers. James was stil dumbfounded by his sister's choice of a mate.

She might as wel have married the devil.

Women made such odd selections in partners, he thought, disgruntled. His sister had wedded a rogue. Sophia wanted to attach herself to a simpering fop. It defied logic, their choices in husbands.

It was better for a father to pair his daughter with the right man. Drake Hawkins would never have agreed to let Bel e marry a scoundrel, James was sure. And Patrick Dawson would have disemboweled the irritating dandy Sophia had picked. A pity the two men were dead. They would have saved their senseless daughters from misfortune.

"I'm not talking about the duke," said William. "I'm talking about Sophia."

The dul pounding in James's head surged. The hammering pulses blurred his dim vision even more.

Stay away from me, Black Hawk. If you try to foil my engagement with Maximilian, I'll reveal your true ident.i.ty; I'll see you hang.

James gnashed his teeth at the foul memory.

"Sophia?" Quincy's eyes rounded. "Dawson's daughter is here in London?"

Even the grumpy Edmund appeared intrigued. "What is she doing in Town?"

"Husband hunting, of course." William offered the captain a pointed look. "James and I met her last night at the ball. She wants to marry the Earl of Baine."

"Who?" said Quincy.

"Our host last night, the Earl of Baine."

Quincy shrugged.

So did Edmund. "Too many parties."

"Never mind," said William. "About Sophia?"

"Now that's a bird." The flirtatious Quincy grinned. "Exotic, fiery, playful. I was still a pup all those years ago in Jamaica, but if I had the chance to meet her now-"

"You'd...do...what?"

Quincy bit his tongue and wisely didn't finish his l.u.s.tful thought. Edmund smirked at his younger brother's misstep, for James's glower was murderous.

With the young upstart soundly muzzled, James fixed his eyes on Wil iam and said darkly, "What about Sophia?"

"Well, she didn't seem very happy to see you last night."

James stiffened. Blood hastened through his veins as he fingered the cut on his chin.

You belong in h.e.l.l, Black Hawk.

"She might out us yet," suggested William.

"She won't."

James was adamant. The brazen witch might threaten him and brandish her knife, but she wouldn't betray his ident.i.ty as Black Hawk. He sensed her heart was stil loyal to her kind, even if she claimed otherwise.

There was a rap at the door.

The butler entered the bedroom without awaiting a proper invitation. He had learned long ago his four masters weren't men of etiquette.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

The group hushed as the old man moved across the room, arm outstretched. He stopped in front of the aquarium, lifted the lid, and dropped the thrashing mouse inside the gla.s.s case before he secured the trapping again.

James eyed the frightened rodent as it circled the enclosure in a frantic bid to escape.

Sophia remained curled in an idle sleep, though. She would soon stir and devour the hapless creature...but not before she had tortured its senses.

The snake was very much like her namesake, James reflected with a grim smile.

As soon as the butler had departed from the room, William pressed onward: "We should stil do something about the scoundrels roaming the seas in our name."