The Buccaneer(38)
Santos stayed beside her, making certain no one bothered her. Not that his presence mattered. Soon the crew found reason to pass by her way and each one sent her a nod or called out a friendly greeting. When Bones returned with her shawl, she accepted it with a heartwarming smile that brought the crew to swarm around her like a pack of bees hovering near the queen bee.
Catherine laughed and joked with the crew, sharing news of England with them and sensing many of them missed family that they had been forced to leave behind. She felt a kinship with them and relaxed as they exchanged conversation.
Lucian charged down on the peaceful scene like a raging bull bent on slaughter. The fire in his eyes and the fury in his expression sent the men scurrying and bumping into one another to get out of his path of destruction.
Catherine even took a step back though it did no good since she was his target and he was heading for a bull’s-eye. He converged on her in one swooping motion, lifting her up into his
arms and heading straight for his quarters below.
“Get back to work,” he bellowed to the crew before disappearing below with Catherine safely in his arms.
She grasped hold of his neck afraid if he lost his balance he’d drop her. But he wasn’t even breathless from carrying her or the rapid strides he took.
He kicked the cabin door open and deposited her on her feet just inside the room. “I allow you some fresh air and you have every man sniffing after you.”
She gasped at his audacious remark. “They were doing no such thing. We were talking and I was enjoying the sea air. You had no right to take that pleasure from me.”
Lucian loomed over her, his hands planted firmly on his hips. “I have every right to do as I wish. You, madam, have no rights. You do as I dictate or else.”
Upset that her short taste of freedom had been unfairly snatched away from her, she swung her hands to her hips and stuck her chest out and her chin up as she challenged, “Or else what? You’ll punish me?”
Lucian’s nostrils flared, his eyes glared red and his chest heaved with controlled anger. He turned, slammed the door shut, and then turned on her once more. “You, madam, have no idea what punishment is.”
Catherine’s own temper sparked into a flame. “No idea? You call stealing me, keeping me captive against my will all for the sake of revenge no form of punishment?”
Lucian had had enough. It was time she heard the stark truth about life and about her father. He delivered his tirade slowly, emphasizing each word harshly. “Punishment, Catherine,
is having your hand cut off for being accused of stealing whether you committed the crime or
not. Punishment is having your teeth broken off with a metal bolt because you ate when the captain hadn’t given permission. Punishment is being forced to eat cockroaches because the captain insisted that bugs provided nourishment. Punishment is being sold into servitude to a barbaric captain for debts you never incurred, by a man you never met.”
“My father would never condone such savage treatment, and especially not on his ships. You have been misinformed and harbor resentment against the wrong man,” she insisted, strongly moved by his horrifying experiences and equally moved by his false accusations against her father.
“You prefer tales instead of truths?” he asked, angry that she defended Abelard with such decisiveness.
“You,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him, “accept the tale, not bothering to search out the truth.”
He advanced on her so quickly that she barely had time to drop her hand.
He hovered over her, his size engulfing her. “After discovering Abelard’s name, I searched long and hard making certain no mistake was made.” He paused and held her wide-eyed look with his own heated one. “Your father signed my sentence to hell.”
A chill ran through Catherine at the bitter belief that filled his every word. His mind had condemned her father, his heart sought revenge. How would she ever make him realize his mistake?
As usual she chose a simple response. “You’re wrong.”
Her unwavering defense of her father annoyed him. “You don’t know your father.”
She shook her head adamantly, the yellow ribbon falling loose, her hair spilling free to
wave over her shoulders. “I do know my father. I know him far better than anyone.”
Swiftly he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her up against him. “Randolph Abelard lies, cheats, and steals. Do you know that about him?”
Catherine struggled against him. “You know nothing about my father, nothing. You lie to feed your thirst for revenge against an innocent man.”
He pushed her away disgusted by her unyielding defense of Abelard. “Innocent?” He laughed and walked toward the door.