The Pirate Captain - By Kerry Lynne Page 0,272

Cate waved him off, for it was more like being attacked by a kitten. Even in a fit of blind fury, Prudence’s blows were pitifully ineffective, although there was a good chance Cate would be bruised by morning. She took a fist to the ear, another grazing her cheek. Overall, it was far less abuse than what her brothers had inflicted in her youth.

Exhausted at last, Prudence fell away. Turning her back, her small shoulders heaved as she gasped for breath. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied,” Cate said evenly.

“Yes you did,” Prudence hissed over her shoulder. Her eyes glittered with teary hatred. “I asked inquired about Lord Creswicke and you lied. All of you lied.”

“I never said—”

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“Because I…we hoped to spare you.” Efforts that now seemed woefully inept, Cate thought ruefully.

“They said he’s a horrid man, and he has done despicable, disgusting things.”

Cate stood mute. Too often, the truth was regrettable. Upon reflection, it might have been better advised to have eased the child into it, rather than leaving her to the shock of finding herself married to a monster, and monster he certainly was. Cate had heard thinly veiled allusions to Creswicke’s distasteful “tastes.” She didn’t care to contemplate to where those tastes might lead.

“Anything I did or didn’t say would not have made Lord Creswicke any better or worse of a person,” Cate said, a bit defensive.

Prudence drew several shuddering breaths in an effort to regain her composure. “They said he beat Nathan…Captain Blackthorne.”

Cate looked toward Nathan. He stood half-hidden by the fronds of a head-high fern. Scowling, the vertical lines between his brows deepened: a clear message that he preferred she desist.

“Yes, he did,” Cate said at length, with some reluctance.

“And he branded him.”

Nathan’s expression darkened further, willing her to leave the subject lie.

“Yes, that as well,” she said, looking back to Prudence.

Prudence turned, the petite features twisted with anguish. “Will he brand me?”

The question caught Cate so unprepared, she almost laughed. At the same time, she felt a pang of sympathy. As irrational as it might seem to everyone else, the possibility was very real to Prudence.

Cate’s mouth wobbled with the urge to smile. “I doubt it.”

Sniffing, Prudence twisted at the fabric of her skirt. “You should have told me. I thought you were my friend.”

Cate inched close enough to lay a tentative hand on the girl’s shoulder. Tremors coursed through the small body. “And sometimes friends have to do difficult things.”

“You all hate me.”

“That’s silly, of course we don’t—”

“Yes you do! I’ve seen the way you all look at me. You all treat me like I’m a child…and you hate me!” Prudence’s voice took a new pitch as her anger resurged.

Cate bit back a remark to the effect that one is treated as one acts. “Prudence, you know better than that. We’ve all—”

“I hate you!” Prudence spun and leapt at Cate again.

The child came at her with the frenzied misdirection of having attacked, but with no real idea as to how to go about it. As they grappled, Cate absorbed the slaps and fended off several more. She ducked from the curled fingers aimed at her face. Prudence made a fortuitous snatch at the hair at Cate’s temple, and she yelped. Over Prudence’s shrieks, she heard a growl and saw an arm snake out. Beringed fingers dug deep into the black curls and Prudence was jerked away.

“Stand off, you shrieking strumpet.” Nathan’s graveled voice ripped the night air as he swung the girl by the hair in an arc. The patent leather shoes skipped over the ground, Prudence squealed like a shoat, in startlement more than pain.

“Nathan, put her down!” cried Cate.

He gave Prudence a quelling shake, and then released her. The small space was filled with the sound of ragged breathing. Rubbing her head, Prudence gave them a wounded look, and then broke into a new wave of plaintive crying.

Blood pulsing still from being attacked, Cate rounded on Nathan. “You don’t need to be so—”

“Belay!” Considerably calmer, he said, “I mean, quiet, luv.”

Nathan stalked toward Prudence with a vehemence that caused her to fall back several steps, half-stumbling on the low plants behind her. “Stay your claws, you cross-grained bit o’ culckoldry. You will never, never raise a hand to that woman ever again!”

“Nathan, I—” A desisting hand and a glare from Nathan cut Cate short.

Nathan rounded on Prudence with a rigid finger in her face.

“You will treat her as if she were the Queen Mum, not