crotch, and someone behind her gasped. Her blood sang with satisfaction. “Oh, but look how quickly you comply,” she added.
“Good God, she’s going to emasculate him,” someone muttered.
The duke gave her that smile again and held his hands up. “You have me entirely at your mercy, Lady Dunscore. Only have a care for my future family.” A few nervous laughs erupted.
“You’ve made such a point of telling me how eager you are to share your family assets with womankind, Your Grace—”
“Katherine!” Captain Warre called out from somewhere behind her.
“—that I would feel remiss if I didn’t help you.” Lightning-quick she moved her cutlass to a chorus of gasps and cries of alarm, and in the blink of an eye two delicate cuts left the duke’s manhood on the edge of being exposed to the world. To his credit, he didn’t flinch.
“Well, now,” she said, smiling. “It looks as though I can shock you, given the right...circumstance. Say the word, and I shall deliver the coup de grâce.”
Behind her, the crowd was in an uproar. A hand curled tightly around her wrist. “Put that away,” Captain Warre growled in her ear.
Winston calmly held the gaping fabric in place. “I should have heeded your warning, after all, Croston,” he said lightly. “The lady is certainly a threat to one’s anatomy.”
“I rather suspect you are your own worst enemy, Winston.” Captain Warre’s voice was flinty.
Katherine tore from his grasp and dove through the crowd.
“Wait!” Captain Warre’s command barked behind her, but she didn’t stop. This was it—she’d had enough. Knots of people backed out of her way in a chaos of talking and questions. She heard him calling to her but kept going, hurrying faster, running now as people scattered to her right and left, until finally she realized that she did not hear his voice anymore. She made it to the entrance and ordered the footman to get her a hack instantly. There wasn’t time to wait for her coach. Within moments she was clattering toward her house.
She had actually considered him. For a moment she had actually considered taking the duke to her bed in exchange for his support.
This entire business had gone too far. There was no reason for this desperation, no reason that she should consider debasing herself, no reason for any of this. It was time to end it—now, before the Lords ended it for her.
* * *
“THERE IS A gentleman waiting for you in the salon, your ladyship,” Dodd announced in a hushed voice the instant she walked through the door.
“Send him away. And have our trunks brought from the attic. Anne and I will be returning to my ship. I want our things packed within the hour.”
Dodd’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth but wisely shut it again. “The gentleman has refused every request to leave, your ladyship.”
There was no time for this. Whoever it was, she would show him that the spectacle was over. “Then he shall meet with my cutlass.” She veered from the staircase and headed for the salon.
“I think it important to advise your ladyship that the man is intoxicated,” Dodd said with great disapproval, hurrying at her side. “Extremely so. Although perhaps, by now—”
“William!” Relief slammed through her when she saw him sprawled on a sofa.
He sat up. “Good evening, Captain.”
“That will be all,” she said to Dodd. One look told her everything about why William hadn’t called before now. “You’re drunk.”
“Maybe a little.”
More than a little. His hair stuck out at all angles. His clothes were disheveled. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was as unshaven as his worst day at sea. “I’ve been worried, and Anne has been beside herself.” Fear warred with fury at the sight of him.
“I’ve bought a house,” he said, running a hand through his hair, looking at the sofa as though he was trying to decide whether to flop back down.
“You could have sent a note.”
“Could have,” he said. “Too drunk to write.”
The only other time this had happened—it had to have been at least four years ago now—she’d spent three days alone in Valencia with no idea where he was. “A house?”
“Figured I ought to do something with all that money.” He gave a laugh. “Hardly made a dent in it.”
A whiff of tawdry perfume reached her nose. “You’ve been whoring.”
He paced away, and she let him go. “I’m told it’s in excellent condition.” He sank into a chair and dug his fingers into his hair. “Old country estate—got a mind to go look at the place.” He looked up at her with haunted blue eyes. “Marry me, Katherine. Be my wife and come live with me in my godawful house.”
“William, please don’t do this.” It was Valencia all over again, and her heart ached for him.
But pain ripped across his face—that same pain she knew was always there, lurking just below the laughing surface, just out of sight where nobody could see it. He stood up, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I shall never be free of what happened in Barbary. Never. Bloody Christ, Katherine, you’re the only one who’ll ever understand.”
He was wrong. Even she couldn’t really understand, because his captivity had been so much different from hers. She’d become a member of a household, made friends, been cared for. Not so for William. He’d told her of the underground prisons, the crushing labor, the beatings. But she couldn’t begin to imagine the hell he’d been through.
He needed the freedom of the sea as much as she did.
“I’m taking Anne away from here,” she told him. “Tonight.”
“Away!” He faced her abruptly.
“Will you help me gather the crew? Ready the ship?”
“What’s happened?” he demanded.
She told him briefly about her failures, the outrages, and fresh anger flared up. “They will never give me Dunscore. I’ll not allow the committee to humiliate me, only to strip me of Dunscore, anyway. Anne and I will return to sea where we belong.”
He absorbed that news. “Yes.” He paced a few steps away. Turned back. His lips curved a little drunkenly. “God, Katherine—excellent idea.”
A nerve pulsed in her temple, and she started toward the door. “Quickly—let us go upstairs. Help me ready Anne for the journey.”
“God,” he repeated as they crossed the entrance hall. “This is perfect. What I wouldn’t give to feel that Mediterranean sun on my face again.”
“To hear the shouts of the linemen when we raise the sails in the morning,” she agreed, already feeling a surge of anticipation. Those shouts were the sounds
