Page 76 of Any Duke in a Storm

“Raphael?” There was no reply for a horrific momentand then he emerged with blankets over his nose and mouth to keep out the dust clouds. Lisbeth’s relief was instant, but she had no time to celebrate. The Metropolitan Police would be there quickly. “I have horses to get us to the seaport. TheSyrenis waiting.”

Keeping to the shadows, they ignored the people rushing toward the scene of the explosion and made their way quickly to where she’d left the horses. A coach would have provided more coverage, but horses were quicker and more nimble for the short distance. They rode fast and hard down the road, cutting through smaller side streets. Lisbeth had sent word to Estelle to have the ship ready for sailing. She huffed a laugh at the irony—running for her life toward theSyrenin the dead of night seemed to be the story of her life.

Abandoning the horses once they got to seaport, she patted them on their rumps. They would find their way back to the mews she’d borrowed them from. TheSyren’s steam engines were running, and she could just see Estelle’s face at the wheel. Smalls stood near the gangplank, his rugged face a sight for sore eyes. She gasped for breath, wheezing as she and Raphael sprinted onboard and Smalls pulled back the footbridge.

“Welcome back, Bess,” Smalls said, gathering her into a bear hug. “The ship hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Missed you, too,” she replied with a grin and then ran up to the quarterdeck. “Estelle, take her out.”

Estelle nodded and gave her the once-over, eyebrows rising. “You look like you’ve been having a jolly good time, Cap’n.”

Lisbeth laughed and enfolded her quartermaster in a tight hug. “If you mean nearly drowning in a hurricane, being marooned on a smuggler’s island, and blowing a man out of prison, then yes. Time of my bloody life.”

“I meant taking a sailor for a ride,” she quipped. “You’ve that look about you.”

“What look?”

Involuntarily, Lisbeth glanced over her shoulder at Raphael, who had taken up a position in the crow’s nest on the foremast, spyglass to his eye, and was giving directions to the boatswains below. She never had to ask him to do anything. It was as though he knew exactly where she needed him to be.

Estelle’s low laughter made her blush. “Thatlook.”

“You’re wrong as usual. Now, if you’re done blathering, kindly get us out the fuck out of here.”

“Aye, Cap’n! Good to have you back.”

Twenty-two

Dubois stared incredulously at them, the rage in his eyes palpable. Three times now he’d been thwarted in his efforts to either murder or incarcerate Raphael, and his frustration was showing. The older man smiled but it was barely lips pulling over his teeth. “It gladdens my heart to see you well and alive. I’d heard, to my great horror, Nephew, that you had been taken in by the New York customs house. How on earth did you manage to leave unscathed?”

“Apparently, I am a French duke,” Raphael drawled and snorted as if it was the most hilarious revelation, watching as the man’s lips thinned with resentment and no small amount of displeasure. “Americans adore the nobility.”

It was almost comical how incensed Dubois was…and how much he coveted such an illustrious title for himself. Raphael had no doubt he intended to claim to the emperor that he was the rightful duke when Raphael was no longer in a position to keep the title—either because of death or imprisonment or declaration of lunacy, just as his father had been committed and then died in the Salpêtrière Hospital.

Murderedin the hospital on his own brother’s orders.

Raphael was certain he would do the same to him.Dubois had been foiled in his plans to get rid of his brother, thinking the title would come to him. But noble titles did not work like that. They passed down to heirs apparent unless there were none, and then they went to the next living male relative. Raphael was now an obstacle.

A disgusted frown drew Dubois’s brows together. “And upon your release, no one followed you here?”

“You know me better than that,Uncle.” He grinned drunkenly for the benefit of the men sitting in the hall and took a huge draught of his rum, being sure to let enough spill down his chest in the process. “You taught me well. I did learn from the best, after all.”

He’d learned how to be a silent snake in the grass…how to wait until one’s target was close enough to strike. How to bide his time and be patient.

Dubois’s answering smile was thin, though something calculated flashed in his piercing stare. “And theSyren? How did you come to be on that? Isn’t that a chit’s ship? The lady captain? Bonnie Bess?”

“It was in port in New York.”

“So industrious, aren’t you. Did you get rid of the captain? Where is this notorious she-beast? I heard she’s so foul you can’t even look upon her face.”

He and Lisbeth had agreed on the journey to stay as tight-lipped as possible about their escape. Upon entry to Exuma, theSyrenhad flown the flags in the requisite order and been granted permission to dock. While the rest of the crew had joined him on land, Lisbeth had stayed behind on the ship, though she’d been furious. ButRaphael could not predict what his uncle would do once he realized he had been deceived by the infamous Bonnie Bess. He’d shoot first and ask questions later and be well within his rights to do so.

“It’s the safer choice,” he’d told her. “Trust me.”

She’d glared daggers at him in the privacy of her cabin. “Trustyou? I will not be left behind when my own goddamn ship brought us here, Saint!” she’d hissed with so much venom he’d recoiled. “I am the bloody captain!”

Raphael hadn’t been proud of what he’d done next. He’d pretended to agree, at least enough to distract her with a kiss, and then he’d tied her to the bed. Admittedly, the sight of her with ropes around those slender wrists and ankles had sent so much lust tearing through him that he’d nearly collapsed from all the blood rushing to his cock.

“It won’t be for long, Viking, I promise. Just trust me on this.”

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