Once a Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page B

scrawny seaman did not even blink at the pirate’s irate tone. “We’re ready to set sail, cap’n.”
    “Excellent.” Marcus turned to look at his guest. “Well, Peter, as you have heard, the ship is ready to depart. Unless you intend to come with us, you must disembark.”
    “Very well.” Chilton pushed away from the table and moved toward the door. “I will contact you when I have the ledger pages.”
    Marcus sketched a mocking bow. “Have no fear for your future bride. I will be certain to leave her healthy enough to say the marriage vows.”
    “See that you do. I need her wealth.”
    A moan came from the bed. Marcus’s face lit with pleasure.
    “Ah, she wakes.” Marcus pricked Chilton’s hand with the dagger, drawing a drop of blood. “Off with you, Peter, and leave the master to his work.”
    Chilton paled at the trickle of crimson that threatened to stain the bright yellow silk of his coat sleeve.
    “Good night, my lord.” Marcus raised the dagger again.
    Chilton made a hasty exit, fleeing the ship and Marcus’s laughter as if he escaped the bowels of Hell itself.
     
    She heard voices.
    Forcing herself to surface from the black void of unconsciousness, Diana struggled to make sense of the jumbled conversation that awakened her. Memory flooded back, and fear with it, as she recognized the raspy voice of one of her abductors.
    “She sure be a comely piece, cap’n.”
    “She is indeed, Scroggins.” The man who answered was not the same one who had accompanied this Scroggins earlier. His voice was richer. Deeper. Smoother. Almost aristocratic. From the familiar creaks and splashes that came to her ears, she deduced that she was aboard a ship. The gentle rocking of the room around her confirmed this. She knew that she lay on a bed and that her hands were still bound. Her legs, however, were not. Tamping down on the urge to flee, she continued to feign unconsciousness.
    The bed dipped as if someone sat upon it. A hand ran through her hair, lifting it and letting it fall back against her cheek. “A red-haired virgin. She is much too fine for the likes of that fool Peter.”
    Despite its beauty, the deep voice chilled her. She had the fleeting thought that the devil must speak like this, his tones dulcet yet deadly.
    “So lovely,” the owner of the voice murmured. Hands smoothed down her body, forcing her to swallow her revulsion. “Mayhap I should see what charms the lady can offer.” He ripped open the lacy bodice of her nightgown.
    Diana shrieked behind the gag. Her eyes flew open to reveal a large blond man bent over her, his brutal hands clenched around handfuls of lace. He jerked his head up. His stunning good looks matched the loveliness of his voice, but what she saw in his gaze frightened her.
    “She be awake, cap’n,” said the wiry, scarred man standing at the foot of the bed.
    “I can see that, Scroggins.” The villain’s eyes narrowed with lust. Before she could blink he yanked the gag from her mouth, tilted her chin up and forced a bruising kiss on her tender lips.
    She whimpered, almost gagging as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She strained against her bonds, disgust giving her strength. At last the knave raised his head.
    “I love a woman with spirit.”
    The words sent fear snaking down her spine. She searched the room desperately for a means of escape. Instead, what she saw only terrified her more. Scattered about the room, all the more horrible for the casual way they had been left about, lay instruments of torture. Most of the frightening apparatus she did not recognize, but one or two she did. A well-worn cat-o’nine-tails rested on a table. Heavy iron manacles hung from the wall. Pokers thrust menacingly out of a black brazier.
    “I see that you are admiring my playthings, my dear. Mayhap you will join me in a game or two?” Her captor laughed at his own jest.
    “Who—” Diana wet her parched lips before asking the question that would confirm her suspicions.