The Buccaneer(11)
Catherine took several quick steps back, but his arm reached out, grabbed hers and yanked her toward him.
“You will do as I say.”
“I won—”
His free hand grabbed her other arm and he shook her like a disobedient child who needed to be taught a lesson. “You will never say ‘I won’t’ to me again. You will never say no to me. You will never deny me what I demand of you. You will obey my every command. Now strip and get into that bed, or when I return I will take immense pleasure in ripping your clothes from your body.”
“Why?” she asked, attempting one more time to make some sense of this nightmare.
“To pay for your father’s sins,” he said. “I will use you until I grow tired of you, if you please me I shall provide you with the evidence of your father’s innocence. Then you shall return to England as used goods. How then shall the marquis feel to have a daughter who’s been a pirate’s whore?”
With his explanation delivered he walked out the door, locking it behind him.
Catherine lowered herself slowly to the floor and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. What made no sense before made even less now. Why was he using her as the instrument of punishment? What sins did he think her father had committed against him? She knew her father to be a fair man. What fool’s thought drove Captain Lucifer to such heinous actions.
Think, Catherine, think.
Her thoughts were jumbled and confused. Her mind refused to think rationally. Fear. It was the fear that caused the confusion. Fear of what Captain Lucifer had planned for her and fear of how his actions would destroy her father, perhaps cause his death.
Put them aside, Catherine, and think.
Captain Lucifer felt by dishonoring her he would hurt her father. And of course that was true. Society wasn’t tolerant or forgiving when a young woman made an error in judgment, even if it had been forced upon her. It was still her fault. Of course the married or widowed women had their little dalliances and they were acceptable although not spoken of openly.
So the price Captain Lucifer sought was her virginity. But what if she had already given it away? The notion intrigued her and gave her pause to ponder on it.
If he thought her used goods already, what then? Would he be so fast to make her share his bed? Or would he find her an obstacle in his path of punishment? And what of the evidence proving her father’s innocence? She would take one step at a time. The first was to convince him she was soiled goods, so to speak.
Of course she would still need to undress, appear naked before him, and she must convince him that it didn’t disturb her in the least. That she had shared many a bed with men and quite enjoyed it.
“Naked,” she whispered. How in heaven’s name was she going to be able to appear before him without a stitch of clothing on her? Those cold eyes of his would scrutinize her. Would they see her deception?
What was it her Aunt Lilith had so often told her?
Something about a lady always being dressed if she wore— what?
Catherine suddenly grabbed the hem of her dress and tore at it. “Please, oh please, let this be the dress.” Her fingers tugged frantically at the material until…
“Yes!” she said triumphantly as she pulled a long strand of white pearls from the torn hem. “A lady wasn’t completely dressed unless she wore her pearls. Thank you, Aunt Lilith, for never letting me forget that bit of advice.”
The pearl necklace would save her from feeling naked in front of Captain Lucifer. It was the last item she always put on after she dressed. Therefore when she undressed and placed the pearls around her neck he wouldn’t feel so naked. She would feel fully clothed.
Thank God the pearls were sewn, for safekeeping, in the hem of this particular dress. It was fate. Fate was on her side. Her pearls were there for a definite reason — to protect her.
Catherine’s hands shook as she stood and unfastened the ties to her dress that would be replaced by what—a single strand of pearls.
She giggled. She couldn’t help it. She was nervous and somewhat doubtful that her plan would work.
Catherine removed her garments and carefully folded them on the top of the chest near the window. The sunlight streamed through the window warming her skin and she hugged herself, realizing just how vulnerable she was without clothing. She hurried and slipped the strand of pearls around her neck. Cool and virginal white, they fell just below her navel.
“My cloak of protection,” she whispered, and fussed with the pearls, as if they were a dress needing preening.
She then gave her hair attention. The silver strands were in tangles and she combed through them with her fingers until the soft locks fell over her shoulders and down her back in natural waves.