Lost Honor Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Also by Loreen Augeri

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Lost Honor

  by

  Loreen Augeri

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Lost Honor

  COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Loreen Augeri

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Kim Mendoza

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First American Rose Edition, 2013

  Print ISBN 978-1-61217-729-8

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-730-4

  Published in the United States of America

  Also by Loreen Augeri

  TORMENTED HEARTS

  an English Tea Rose

  available from

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Dedication

  To my two lovely daughters.

  This book is for you.

  Chapter One

  Atlantic Ocean, 1818

  Bile rose. Her stomach heaved.

  “Let go of me.” Arianna tugged against the hand wrapped around her wrist, but the burly seaman’s fingers refused to loosen as he dragged her across the wooden planks. “Take me to Captain Pemberton.”

  Her captor pounded on the door wavering before her.

  “Enter,” an authoritative voice commanded.

  The deckhand threw open the door to the cabin. “Will a Captain Danvers do?” Shoved by powerful hands, she fell to her knees before booted feet. “Found her in the hold, Cap’n. Thought she was a boy at first, her wearin’ pants and a cap, but she has tits.”

  “I can see that, Jurgens.”

  Arianna followed the shiny boots up to tight-fitting, brown breeches hugging muscular thighs, and slim hips. A loose, white shirt covering broad shoulders next met her gaze, then a corded neck, square jaw, stern lips, crooked nose, and cold, dark eyes that stared down at her. “Where’s my brother? Who are you?”

  “I will be asking the questions. Who are you, and why are you on my ship?” The deep voice thundered through the cabin.

  Her stomach flip-flopped. Dizziness swamped her. Swallowing convulsively, she battled to contain the contents of her queasy stomach. Hiding in that empty molasses barrel hadn’t been the brightest idea of her twenty-one years. “I’m not talking to anyone but my brother.”

  Jurgens’s forceful hands yanked her to a standing position. “You answer the cap’n.”

  The abrupt movement snapped the fragile control she clung to. Spasms seized her throat. Arianna struggled to turn away, but the fingers digging into her arms held her in place. The contents of her stomach erupted.

  All over Captain Danvers’ boots.

  Her captor released her and jumped back in horror.

  She swayed. A wooden chair crashed against the backs of her legs, and she fell onto the hard seat with a plop. The heat of embarrassment swept up her neck and into her face.

  “Jurgens, get something to clean up this mess.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.”

  This wasn’t going at all as planned.

  The impassive man before her tapped the toes of his soiled boots one at a time on the wooden floor to dislodge what she deposited there. Arianna closed her eyes and groaned. She had never done anything this humiliating.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true.

  “Are you going to be sick again?”

  Arianna lifted one lid a fraction of an inch. Peeking through the slit, she found a wet cloth dangling by a finger before her. She shook her head and then jerked to a stop before the dizziness reappeared. “No.”

  Grabbing the cloth, she fixed her gaze on the opposite wall as she cooled her face and cleaned her mouth. She couldn’t meet those hard eyes as dark as a moonless night.

  “Are you seasick?”

  “I have never been seasick in my life. I am a terrific seaman.”

  “Then what’s wrong? Should I summon the surgeon to examine you?”

  “I am fine.” She started to rise with what dignity she still possessed.

  “Sit.”

  The commanding voice and the powerful hand pushing her back onto the chair convinced her to remain where she was. Even though she chafed at the order. Men had dictated what she could and could not do her entire life. Her papa she obeyed, mostly. Her five older brothers were another matter.

  “My boots tell a different story.”

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the wall. Plain white and boring. His thighs on the other hand were more interesting. But intimidating.

  A hand beneath her chin forced her face up to where his piercing eyes delved into hers. “What is wrong with you, and what are you doing on my ship?”

  No sympathy, concern, or curiosity. Just a question he expected to be answered.

  As her stomach settled, a terrible feeling that she had made an awful mistake slithered through her. “What is the name of this ship?”

  “You are avoiding my question, again.”

  “I need to know.”

  Frustrating silence filled the distance between them as he seemed to debate whether to reply before she gave him the information he waited for.

  “The Sea Dragon.”

  Arianna jumped to her feet. Fear and panic raced through her. This wasn’t her brother’s ship. She didn’t know this man standing before her, or the crew. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

  “That much I know. Now I have answered your question, I expect an answer to mine.”

  “You must return to the dock.”

  She wasn’t to be found by her brother’s men until two days into the voyage. By then, it would be too late to return to England. Thomas would have been forced to let her stay and help sail the ship. The man called Jurgens had discovered her shortly after they left. They couldn’t be far from land.

  “You are on this ship now, and here you will stay.”

  “But I am on the wrong ship. Turn back.” She paced across the airless cabin. How had this happened? The barrel she had hidden in was to be loaded on the Midnight Star.

  He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him, his face devoid of emotion. “I have a schedule, and I will not upset it to please you. This is your mistake. You will deal with it.
”

  He sounded like her papa. She curled her fingers into fists and tensed her arms to prevent herself from lashing out. Someone knocked on the door, and she spun toward it.

  “Enter.”

  “Mark is here to clean your cabin, Cap’n.”

  Arianna shoved her way past the startled men and boy. She had to return to shore.

  “Come back here.”

  The authority within his words skimmed over her as she jerked the blue wool cap that covered her blonde hair over her ears and flew down the corridor, up the ladder, and onto the main deck. The fresh smell of the sea air reassured her, as did the land on the horizon. She had to reach it.

  Men stopped their work and stared as she dashed toward her salvation, the jolly boat carried at the stern.

  “Grab her.”

  She didn’t need to see who spoke the words. The tone was unmistakable. Agile and quick, she evaded the hands that lunged at her. She had learned the tactics for survival when she aggravated and teased her brothers one too many times. Feet pounded behind her. She wouldn’t have time to lower the boat. She gauged the distance to shore. She was a strong swimmer, but even she couldn’t swim that far.

  Arianna raced to the ratlines and started to climb.

  ****

  Morgan Danvers stared at the fleeing woman traversing the rigging like a seasoned seaman. Bloody hell, he didn’t need this kind of problem now.

  Who was she? What was she doing on his ship? What was he going to do with her? He couldn’t return her to shore. He couldn’t spare the precious hours. His brother’s life dangled on a precarious line between life and death.

  He had a feeling trouble trailed her wherever she went. Morgan glanced down at his feet—already she had ruined a perfectly good pair of boots—and then up at her. She did possess a great backside. The muscles in her rear bunched and contracted as she lifted each leg and then lowered it to the next tar-coated rope. He glared at the men on deck ogling her and at the others scurrying through the rigging after the stowaway.

  Women on a ship brought nothing but disaster. He couldn’t allow her to run free. She would cause a mutiny or instigate fights. He had seen it happen before. He could vouch for most of his men. They had sailed with him when he fought for the United States as a privateer. But not all of the former crew was available for his rescue mission, and he had been forced to hire on outsiders unknown to him.

  Her nimble feet and agile hands scaled the ratlines in mere seconds. Reaching the maintop platform, she fended off males who struggled to capture her. He pictured her tumbling through the air and imagined her broken body splattered on the pristine deck.

  He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Leave her be. I’m coming up.” He addressed the rest of the seamen. “Get back to work.”

  Captains didn’t go aloft, but this was a special case. He quickly accomplished the ascent and stared into defiant, tenacious, cerulean eyes. “What did you think to achieve by climbing up here?”

  “I was evading a horde of men.”

  “Who were after you for your own good.”

  She planted her hands on curvaceous hips. “I am quite capable on a ship. I’ve been sailing on one since…” Her gaze lowered to his legs. “I was as tall as your knees.”

  He eyed her up and down. She wasn’t much taller now. “Not on my ship you haven’t. Return to the main deck.”

  “Are you going to take me back to shore?” She pointed toward the last of England disappearing over the horizon.

  “No, I told you that wasn’t possible.” The mast swayed as the ship rode the swells.

  “Then I am remaining right where I am.” She turned her back on him and stared at her destination.

  The infuriating chit. She needed a hand taken to her backside. His gaze rested on the tantalizing vision before him. His hands itched to discipline and then explore the shapely, white flesh. He swung his eyes away with a determined effort. He didn’t have time to dally with this female, sexually or otherwise. “I am ordering you to return to the deck.”

  She whirled to face him. “You order me? You may command obedience from your men, but you have no control over me.” She crossed her arms over her enticing bosom. “I am not supposed to be nor do I want to be on this ship. I have an order for you. Take me back to London.” Her finger stabbed his chest with the exact pronunciation of each word. “Or I will see you hang for kidnapping.”

  She had the nerve to threaten him. Before she had a chance to react, he grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder. Kicking legs and pounding fists pummeled him. She hit hard for a woman her size. He winced as a well-placed foot struck him squarely in the chest. Wrapping an arm around her legs to contain half of her tirade, he smacked her on the rump to still the rest. His hand lingered a moment longer than needed. Her rear was as firm as he had suspected.

  She screeched with indignation. “Put me down.”

  His ears rang with her fury. “I will bring you down.” He stepped toward the opening.

  “You are not carrying me like this.”

  “Watch me.” Not much made him angry, but this small slip of a girl succeeded where others had failed.

  She gasped as he placed a foot on the ratline. “You can’t do this. You will kill us both.”

  He refused to let her loose to wreck havoc again. “Be still, or we will topple to the deck.”

  She stiffened and clutched his linen shirt with both hands.

  It was about time she obeyed. If she were a man, she would be in irons right now. Descending quickly, he soon landed on the sturdy, wooden planks. “You can let go.”

  Legs and arms started to whack him again. He didn’t want to part from the warmth of her, but the beating convinced him to change his mind. He dropped her on her feet.

  Her face burned a fiery red, and her eyes spit blue fire. She raised her hand, swung it back, and then shot forward.

  Morgan grabbed her wrist before her palm connected with his cheek. “You should be grateful I stopped you. If you were part of my crew, I would have you flogged.”

  “Don’t ever do that to me again.” A tear slipped down her cheek as she wrenched her wrist from his grasp and stalked to the railing.

  Was she attempting to get her way with that tear? His sisters used the trick all the time. It wouldn’t work. He was immune to watery eyes. Following her, he snatched her upper arm and headed toward the ladder leading below.

  She dug in her heels. “Let go. Where are you taking me?”

  “Where you can’t cause trouble.” He dragged her as she yelled unladylike curses, resisting every step of the way.

  When they reached his cabin, he scanned the interior and sniffed the air. All was as it had been before she entered his life. He threw her on his berth, but she jumped up, fear and panic rioting in her eyes. For once, her mouth remained closed.

  Morgan knew what she thought, but it wasn’t his intention. At the moment, he wanted to be as far away from her as was possible on this brig. To rest his ears and concentrate on the problem of finding his brother and the pirates raiding his ships. He yanked the key from the lock, stepped over the threshold, slammed the door shut, and locked it.

  Fists pounded on the door as he strode through the corridor. She was going to make his life miserable.

  ****

  Arianna slid down the door and plopped on the floor. She closed her eyes in resignation. Nothing was happening as she had planned. First, the barrel she had hidden in was delivered to the wrong ship. Second, she hadn’t realized they would roll it, which made her dizzy and caused her to lose her breakfast in front of Captain Danvers and his man. She groaned. On top of his foot. Third, he had refused to take her back to shore. Fourth, her attempted escape had failed miserably, and fifth, she had suffered the indignity of being carried from the ratlines over his shoulder.

  Heights never scared her before, but dangling with her head pointed toward the wooden deck and possessing no control over her life and death had terrified her.
Even squeezing her eyes tightly closed hadn’t help. It only magnified the image of her bloody demise, and instinctively, she had gripped his wretched body.

  To make matters worse, when he released her, she had cried. Completing the package, she had shown her fear again when he shoved her on his bed. The whole incident humiliated her.

  But Arianna refused to allow the situation to defeat her. She jumped up and paced the sparse cabin. What to do now? She wouldn’t remain locked up during the entire trip. She had set out to prove herself, and that was what she intended to do. This ship might not be the Midnight Star and Thomas wasn’t the captain but resolve and determination still flooded her veins.

  No matter what vessel she sailed on, Arianna would have had her work cut out for her. Even though out of all her brothers she felt closest to Thomas, six years her senior, he would have protested her working alongside his men. But she could have cajoled him into letting her have her way. It might take longer to prove herself to the captain of this ship, but she’d do it.

  First, she had to change her appearance and escape this cabin. She tugged off the woolen cap, and her blonde braid tumbled out, the end swaying around her rear. Digging her fingernails into her itchy scalp, she scratched as her gaze roamed the neat cabin. There had to be something here she could use.

  Arianna dropped to her knees before the drawers built under the berth and rummaged through the captain’s clothes. Holding up a pair of pants, she frowned. The hem would trail a foot over the ends of her toes, and the waist could fit two of her. She shook her head. “Much too big.”

  So much for disguising herself in his clothes.

  The desk. Maybe there was an extra key hidden there. Opening the drawers, she snatched out bills, correspondence, charts, and shipping documents, rifled through them, and then tossed them aside. None were of use.