“Will you do it now, my lord?”
“No, I think not,” he said. “I will leave you, Cassandra, to think about what you have done. It will be settled when I return.” Since he had no idea of what the devil he should do, he knew he had to have some time alone, to try and untangle this mess. He gazed a moment longer at her pale, set face, and left the cabin.
He paced the deck, deaf to the shouts of taunting laughter from his men as they waved toward the now-distant Spanish frigate.
“Ye do not seem justly pleased, my lord,” Scargill said, as he walked into his master’s preoccupied line of vision. “The men performed well, as if they had all been trained in the English navy.”
The earl breathed deeply and turned rueful eyes to his valet. “It’s not that, to be sure, Scargill. I have got myself in a rare mess and am wondering how the devil to get out of it.”
“Ye speak in riddles, my lord.”
The earl drew a deep breath and ran his fingers through his rumpled hair. “Cassandra disobeyed me, Scargill, and I was a forceful fool.” As Scargill still gazed at him, at sea, he told him briefly what had passed between them. “She is at this moment,” he concluded, “waiting for me to return to flog her. Her only request is that I not flog her in front of the men.”
Scargill sucked in an appalled breath. “Jesus Christ,” he said succinctly.
The earl slammed a fist against his open palm. “Hellfire and damnation, this entire situation is ridiculous. And you, Scargill, you have done naught but add needless expletives.”
“I beg yer pardon, my lord, but it was a reference to the Almighty above, though I have gained no assistance from its use.” He suddenly flung back his head. “I will take her place, my lord. Ye will have her watch and the lesson will never be forgotten.”
“She called me a braying ass not long ago. Now I must bequeath that charming title to you. Under no circumstances would I do anything so reprehensible.”
“Ye abducted a lady, my lord, and against her will.”
“If you do not keep your tongue between your teeth, I shall have you flogged for insolence. If you have not the wit to see that the circumstances are utterly disparate, I wash my hands of you.”
“Methinks it is the fiery Ligurian gentleman speaking and not the English lord.”
The earl shot him a look so filled with frustrated anger that Scargill quickly mumbled an apology and fell silent.
The earl said finally, a black brow arched, “If you, Scargill, had disobeyed a direct order, even if it imperiled only yourself and not the yacht, you may rest assured that I would have had you flogged without hesitation.”
“Aye, my lord, but I am a man.”
“Ah.”
“What will ye do?”
“Go to the devil,” he said, and turned away.
Cassie heard the sound of his boots outside the cabin door, and quickly squared her shoulders. She pinched color into her cheeks and rose to stand by the table, one hand laid carefully on a chair arm to support her trembling legs.
He filled the cabin with his presence, as he always did, and her hand tightened about the chair. He looked like a pirate, she thought, with his black tousled hair above his thick-arched black brows, and his full-sleeved white shirt, open at the neck and topped with a loose black vest.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his thumbs hooked in the wide leather belt around his waist. His expression was unreadable, but to her eyes, his mouth was set in a pitiless line.
“Is it to be now, my lord?”
The calmness of her voice was belied by the flash of fear in her eyes.
He said slowly, still hopeful of inspiration, “I am not certain if a flogging is what is most needful. Perhaps a flogging, like a hanging, would be wasteful.”
Her fear made her blind. “Wasteful. It is your needless cruelty that is wasteful. Damn you, why must you torture me? Do it and be done.”