The Wayward One (The De Montforte Brothers Book 5) by Danelle Harmon Read Free Book Online Page B

with their needle-nosed points which, she supposed, were better than nothing. Probably ineffective against a large, strong man like her captor, but they would give her confidence, if nothing else. Show him that she wouldn’t go down without a fight if he decided to try and compromise her. She had her pride, after all, and she was no shrinking ninny. Until Lucien or the full force of the Royal Navy arrived to pluck her from danger back to safety, she had a choice. She could allow herself to become a victim, or she could do something about it.
    She was a de Montforte.
    She would do something about it.
    She sat up and found her feet. The deck beneath her rolled with a life of its own, and she grabbed the table to keep her balance as she crossed the small cabin. As expected, the door to the world outside was shut, enforcing her status as both prisoner and hostage. She picked up the dividers, testing their weight. What would one of her brothers do in this situation?
    She pushed a hand through her disheveled hair, trying to think, and found what felt like a goose egg just above her ear. It was sore to the touch, though it wasn’t the only part of her that hurt—she could feel bruising in her elbow, and her ribs protested when she moved a certain way. However, if there were small blessings for which to be thankful, it was that she appeared not to be prone to seasickness.
    Her stomach growled, and still holding the dividers, she considered what to do.
    That…that ill-bred Irish lout out there. Did he intend to starve her while he awaited the ransom money? At the thought of him, her head began to hurt and she despised him all over again. Oh, how dare he put his hands upon her, take her away from her family, make demands of them that were just the other side of outrageous.
    Resolve.
    I am a de Montforte and I will not let him rattle me.
    Footsteps sounded just outside. The latch bumped upward and the door swung open.
    It was him, the scoundrel. He paused for a moment, silhouetted by bright morning light flooding the deck behind him before he stalked into the cabin. If she’d had any lingering hopes that their conversation last night had been a dream, his sudden appearance was a bucket of ice water. No, she had not imagined the proud bearing, the air of command. She had not even imagined the uniform. In fact, the tatty coat he’d worn in London and the careless, slouching laissez-faire he’d adopted then seemed to be the dream, for this man, virile and strong, bore little resemblance to that drunken, bumbling fool at all.
    Hiding the dividers in a fold of her skirts, she let her gaze rake contemptuously over the white waistcoat buttoned over a fine lawn shirt, the open blue coat that emphasized the width of his powerful shoulders, the snug white breeches. The hilt of a sword peeked above a scabbard at his side, and his shoes were hazed with dried salt.
    This was not the down-on-his-luck poor relation he’d pretended to be back in London.
    No, this was a man of business. Of intent.
    Of danger.
    He doffed his tricorne and tossed it to the window seat.
    “Top o’ the mornin’ to ye, Sunshine,” he said, piling on that awful Irish accent in a manner that felt intentional. Mocking. As though he wanted her to know that he’d turned the tables, Irish over English, for once. “Or rather, afternoon.”
    “My name,” she retorted coldly, drawing herself up and fixing him with what she hoped was her iciest, most haughty glare, “is not Sunshine.”
    “Ehm, well, probably an ill-chosen moniker at that, as I’ve yet to see ye smile.”
    “You, sir, have not exactly given me anything to smile about.”
    “Come now, lass.” He picked up the dented coffee pot, retrieved his mug, and splashed a pitiful trickle of black liquid into it with a casual, careless flip of his wrist. “How have I harmed ye?”
    “You took me from my family and brought me to this ship. You’ve caused them what has to be unbearable worry and grief. The