Page 81 of Any Duke in a Storm

As hard as he tried, Raphael couldn’t get his head around the ruse. She’d been Bonnie Bess for years, making a name for herself and working undercover to infiltratethe smuggling world for what? Or better yet, to get close to whom?

The realization was fast and cold:Dubois. No wonder she’d been so interested in him. His uncle was the only one—him and Madge—who had avoided the customs agents for years, the only ones they would send an undercover agent in for.

The understanding felt like another blade to the gut.

Sheknewof his plans for his uncle, and she had never said a word that he was her target. And he’d fallen for her lies like an overeager, bumbling, trusting fool. No wonder she couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. She had kept so much of herself in reserve because she wasn’t who she claimed to be. How could she even care for someone when she herself was a lie?

Bonnie Bess was fucking fiction. And so was everything they’d had.

TheSyrenhad barely cut out of the bay into the Caribbean Sea, clear blue skies and open seas on the horizon, when the sound of a cannon split the air. Estelle shouted an oath. “Damn it! That nearly took our foremast!”

“Ship starboard!” Smalls yelled.

It was one of the vessels from the harbor, a sleek black frigate that was cutting through the water at a speed theSyrencould not match at present, not with only one of her engines lit to navigate the dangers of the reef at halfspeed. Which meant she was easy pickings for the ship that had just sent a warning shot across her bow. Who the hell was that? She stiffened as the frigate slowed to match their speed. Did they intend to board theSyren? “Smalls, tell the gunners to get the cannons ready! This could be a dogfight.”

“Bess, there’s no way—”

She glared at him with a snarl. “Just do it! We’re not going to lie down and take it!” Lisbeth grabbed the two pistols at her hips and cocked them, heading to the starboard side of theSyren.

“Ahoy!” a voice shouted. “Slow there!”

Lisbeth recoiled. That voice sounded much too familiar. The sight of Charles Dubois had her blood running hot with rage. She could shoot him in the head right now, but with the cannons of his vessel ready and trained upon her ship, what would be the outcome? He would be dead, but so would all her crew. He could have sunk her to the bottom of the sea, but hadn’t. She gave the command to slow the steam engines. “What do you want?”

He grinned as his ship came abreast of hers. “You, love.”

“I already told you,Prince.” Recoiling at the endearment, she spat the last and trained the pistols on him, even though she knew she could not risk shooting him, not with the lives of everyone at risk. “I am no man’s prize.”

“You have a choice, Agent Medford, and two seconds to make it. You for the lives of your crew.” Lisbeth’s hands shook on her pistols; it would be so easy. “You’re no fool and you’ll have their blood on your hands. People whotrusted you. Who were loyal to you. Only you lied to them, too, didn’t you, Bess?” he asked, and she flinched, the guilt hitting her hard.

She gritted her teeth and glanced over her shoulder, eyes casting over the silent crew observing the standoff, each and every face dear to her, and then to Estelle who shook her head with fire in her eyes. They would fight to the death for her if she ordered it…but she could never ask that of them. Dubois was her mess. He obviously didn’t want her dead, so she had time to work out a plan. She exhaled and lowered her guns. “Very well, but I want your word that theSyrensails free.”

“Bess, no!” That shout was from her quartermaster.

“It will be all right, Estelle,” she said as grappling hooks came over the side of the railing and a footbridge was lowered between the two ships. She released her belt before climbing on it. Her weapons would be taken, but at least she still had knives in her boot and her corset.

“Cap’n!” Smalls roared, running across the deck as if to stop her, only to catch a bullet in the leg and crash to the boards.

“No!” Lisbeth yelled, whirling to the shooter.

“The next will be to his head or to anyone who does something stupid,” Dubois said, and Lisbeth’s eyes flicked to the men behind him lined up with loaded weapons.

Face hard, she turned toward theSyren. “Do as he says. That’s an order.”

The two burly sailors who had stood next to her in the hall on Exuma crowded her as soon as her feet dropped tothe deck of Dubois’s ship, only now they had learned their lesson and grabbed her roughly by each arm. TheSyrenwas released and the other ship gathered speed.

“Take her to the brig and don’t let her out of your sight,” Dubois commanded. “And fire!”

On his command, four cannons fired in rapid succession, the sound of exploding cannon-fire and steel being torn cleaved through the air. No! What had he done? Lisbeth tried to turn, but the men holding her were too strong. “Let me go, you bastards! You fucking gave your bloody word, Dubois!”

His grin was oily. “I did. Now she’s free.”

Her enraged shouts were muffled as she was dragged down and thrown into a smelly, dank room with a single cot in one corner. The door slammed behind her. She should have known he was a blasted liar. Damn him to hell! A frustrated tear ran down her cheek. They had to have survived! The crew of theSyrenwas hardy. They’d lived through much worse, and the frigate’s steel hull had been reinforced to withstand a lot.

As the seconds and minutes passed, she resisted the urge to pound on the door as that would not do any good but bruise her hands. The porthole was much too small to squeeze through and the door was locked. She spent the time pacing instead with her knife in hand. And when her legs started to ache, she sat on the cot and slept. After what seemed like an entire day had passed, the door unlatched.

Startling awake and propelling herself at her jailer, she got in a few vicious slashes before a fist came at her faceand the knife was bashed from her fingers. She saw stars and then felt the muzzle of a cold pistol under her chin.

“She cut my ear clean off!” a man screamed.

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