Sweet Revenge Ch. 11

He possessed her with bold thrusts while his hands explored her breasts and her clit, still throbbing from his earlier attentions. He took her higher with every stroke, until she was breathless and gasping, clinging to him as her only anchor. With a final surge, he sent her soaring, and his hoarse cry hung in the air as he toppled after her.

When Richard finally withdrew from her, he kept her snuggled securely against him. Karina listened as his breathing slowed and his heartbeat returned to a steady rhythm. She knew from the lax weight of his arm across her middle that he had drifted to sleep. She lay awake for a long time, staring into the darkness and praying that everything would go according to his plans. She didn't think she could live without him.

**********

William and Elizabeth Sinclair disembarked from the Sea Falcon and were directed to a waiting coach. As they rolled through the crowded London streets, William noticed that the coach was luxuriously appointed, rivaling the quality of the finest coach he owned. It was obvious that Richard Bryant was not interested in Karina for her inheritance.

The coach carried them to the fashionable Mayfair district, and the driver stopped in front of a stylish townhouse. William and Elizabeth were admitted and shown into a parlor off the main entry hall. They didn't have long to wait before Richard appeared in the doorway. He eyed them warily as he closed the doors behind him.

"Good afternoon Lord Sinclair, Miss Sinclair." He bowed to each of them. "Welcome to my home."

William acknowledged him with a stiff nod of his head. "Bryant. Where is Karina? I want to see her immediately."

Richard's mouth twisted into a slight grimace, and he came to stand in front of the pair. "Karina isn't here, sir. She is at my country estate. Won't you have a seat?" He gestured to two comfortable chairs, and Elizabeth sank into one with a murmur of thanks.

"No, I will not have a seat. I want to see my daughter, so if you will please instruct your coach to be brought around again, we can get underway." William's face was flushed an angry red.

Richard took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Sir, we have many things we need to discuss." He glanced briefly at Elizabeth, giving her a pained smile. "Miss Sinclair, perhaps you would like to see your room and rest for a while. I'm sure you must be weary from your voyage."

Elizabeth rose and turned to her father. "Perhaps it would be best..."

"Elizabeth, stay where you are. I am not going to let you out of my sight while we are in this man's home. He's already shown that he cannot be trusted." He glared at Richard as he spoke.

Richard sighed as he pulled the reins tight on his own temper. After all, he couldn't blame Karina's father for being angry. Richard took a deep, steadying breath and met the older man's eye.

"Sir, most of the things we need to discuss are not fit for your daughter's ears. However, if you insist on airing them in front of her, I will." He raised one brow and waited for William's decision.

William peered into Richard's eyes, probing the green depths to determine his intent. He could see only honest sincerity, but he was not inclined to trust the man who had abducted his daughter twice. He narrowed his eyes, and glanced at the French doors that led out into a surprisingly large garden at the back of the house.

"Elizabeth, since the weather is so nice, perhaps you would like to explore the garden. I'm sure you would benefit from the fresh air."

Elizabeth glanced between them before nodding at her father. "Yes Papa." She gave Richard a small curtsy. She had read her sister's letter, and she knew Karina loved this man. He couldn't be all bad. "It was nice to have met you, Lord Bryant."

Richard bowed. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Sinclair."

As Elizabeth passed by him, she gave Richard a wink and a grin. He blinked with surprise, but otherwise kept his face carefully blank. It appeared that Karina's sister sympathized with his cause.

When Elizabeth had closed the door behind her, the two men faced each other again. They each stood rigidly, each trying to assess the other's thoughts. Richard finally broke the awkward silence.

"Could I offer you a drink, sir?"

"Forget about the niceties, Bryant. State whatever it is you need to say. Then, I demand to be taken to see Karina. I haven't had a moment's peace since you kidnapped my daughter and forced her to become your mistress. Your actions have been entirely despicable, and I am tempted to beat you to a bloody pulp. You have ruined my daughter's good name and stolen her virtue."

Richard flushed red, but he held the other man's gaze without flinching. "Sir, I am guilty of all of your accusations, but never question Karina's virtue. She is the most virtuous woman I have ever known. My only goal in life is to ensure that no one ever hurts her again. I can't change what I did in the past, but I can go forward doing everything I can to assure Karina's best interests are protected."

William scoffed and turned away. "You have a funny way of carrying out that goal! Do you suppose it was in Karina's best interest for you to come between her and her husband?"

Richard's voice shook with barely contained rage as he gave his quiet answer. "I do when that bastard was abusing her. When I found Karina, her entire body was covered with bruises. I can barely even conceive of the evil behind the things that animal did to her! To this day, she is terrified of her husband."

William snapped around to face him, searching his eyes for signs of the truth. He paled as he thought about his own doubts concerning his son-in-law. While he had suspected that things were not perfect in his daughter's marriage, he had never thought that she was actually being physically abused.

"Be careful, Bryant. It is easy to make accusations when the man accused is not present to defend himself. After everything you have done, how do you expect me to believe you over my son-in-law?"

Richard came to stand directly in front of the older man. "I don't, sir. I intend to give you the opportunity to judge for yourself when I confront Stuart Rawlins. That bastard has a lot to answer for, more than even I was aware of until just recently."

"And how do you expect for him to answer your charges when he is still in Cairo?"

"He's not, sir. He arrived on the Sea Falcon along with you and Elizabeth. He is being held as a prisoner until tomorrow, when he will have to answer for his crimes once and for all."

William's face showed clear shock at that. "You really would stop at nothing to have my daughter, wouldn't you?"

Richard's lips quirked into a sad smile, and he held the older man's gaze. "I love Karina, sir. I would willingly die to protect her and the child she carries. Feel free to direct your anger and condemnation at me. I have earned your hatred. But flawed as I am, Karina loves me. If you really care about your daughter's happiness, you will at least give me the chance to prove that I speak the truth."

Several long moments passed, and only the ticking of the mantle clock broke the silence. Richard's voice was full of quiet urgency when he continued.

"Lord Sinclair, both you and I have failed to protect Karina in the past. Neither of us can change our mistakes, but we can work together to ensure Karina never has to suffer again. I love your daughter, sir. I only want to make her happy."

A long moment passed as the two men assessed each other. William finally heaved a weary sigh and sank onto one of the comfortable chairs. "You had better get me that drink you offered, Bryant. I have a feeling that I am going to need it."

************

Stuart Rawlins was led from his cell on board the Sea Falcon. He trembled with fright as he walked between George and Mick, the two seamen who had been his jailors for the past few weeks. The two sailors had not physically abused him since that first night, but they seemed to delight in reminding him of the experience. The thought that they could repeat the torture at any time kept Stuart in a constant state of fear.

The weeks he had spent as a prisoner had been like pure hell. Stuart didn't know where he was or what was to become of him. The thought that he might never escape filled him with despair. He couldn't face the prospect of spending the rest of his life in some dingy prison, terrified of what his guards might do to him.

Mick shoved Stuart into the center of a tiny cabin and closed the door. Stuart cast nervous glances at the two grinning seamen, wondering what they intended.

"Take off your clothes," Mick ordered, crossing his beefy arms over his chest.

Stuart blanched and shook his head weakly as tears began to roll down his cheeks. The last time he had been forced to strip, the two men had whipped him with a belt until his back was a bloody mess. Then, they had raped him with the handle of a mop. He had spent every day since then recovering from the pain. The thought of going through that again reduced him to a blubbering, trembling coward. Stuart dropped to his knees and clutched at Mick's thighs, rocking on all fours as he begged for mercy.

"No please. I'll do anything you want, just please don't hurt me."

Mick exchanged a glance with George before replying. "Get up, you pathetic sack of shit. We're here to clean you up before we take you ashore."

For the first time, Stuart glanced around the cabin. There was a small wooden washtub already filled with steaming water, and soap and towels were laid out on a stool next to the tub. The thought of bathing for the first time in weeks distracted him from wondering what awaited him ashore, and he quickly stripped and stepped into the tub.

Even the two hulking seamen standing watch failed to diminish the pleasure of the hot water washing away his grime. The welts on his back had healed, leaving only pale stripes to mark him, and the water was a soothing balm. Stuart would have stayed in the water indefinitely if his guards hadn't hurried him along. He rushed to wash his hair before rinsing and drying with one of the fluffy towels.

Stuart was surprised when they provided him with clean clothes to wear. Although the garments weren't his, they fit relatively well. The clothes obviously belonged to a nobleman. The shirt and pants were made of fine materials, and they had been sewn with attention to every detail. The shirt was loose around his shoulders, and the trousers were a couple of inches too long, but otherwise, the clothes fit him well enough. Stuart rolled the pant legs up so he wouldn't trip over them and donned his own boots.

"Come on," George said gruffly.

They led him up a narrow flight of stairs onto the ship's deck. Stuart squinted at the weak, setting sun. He wondered once again where they were taking him, but he held his silence. He had learned that trying to pry information from the two men was a useless endeavor.

They shuffled him down the gangplank and into a waiting coach. He settled onto the seat, and they took their places in the opposite seat as the conveyance lurched into motion. The pistol that George held trained on his chest kept Stuart from attempting an escape. He wondered why they hadn't bound his hands or feet. He bided his time, hoping for a more favorable opportunity. He sat quietly, anxiously wondering what the two men had in store for him.

By the time the coach wended its way through the congested dockside streets to their destination, the sky was dark as pitch. The two seamen grasped his arms, and their firm grips may as well have been iron manacles as they led him into what looked like a large warehouse. Stuart darted nervous glances around.

The interior of the building was dim and full of shadows. Massive wooden crates were stacked nearly to the ceiling, and a narrow row of windows ran along the walls near the roof. A handful of lanterns hung from beams overhead, and they illuminated a large open space in the center of the warehouse. George paused to lock the door behind them, and he dropped the heavy key into his pocket. Stuart gulped, realizing that there was no other exit from the building, at least none that he could see. The possibility of making a dash for freedom would have to wait.

Their footsteps echoed off the wooden floor, as the seamen led him to a lone chair in the middle of the room and pushed him onto the seat. They leaned against nearby posts, keeping watch over him as the moments ticked by in tense silence. Stuart could see the look of expectancy on their faces, and he began to tremble. They were obviously waiting for someone else to join them.

Although it was only a few minutes, it seemed like an eternity before Stuart heard the lock clicking open, and he whipped around to see who entered. When Richard stepped through the door, he shot out of his chair. For the first time since his capture, anger and hatred overrode his fear.

"You fucking bastard," Stuart snarled. "You are responsible for doing this to me!"

Richard eyed him coldly before turning to relock the door. "Indeed. And anything that has been done to you is not nearly enough to punish you for your evil deeds. That's why I am here. It is time for you to finally pay, Rawlins."

Richard approached and the two men stood glaring at each other. While Stuart was trembling with rage, Richard stood calmly.

"Where is Karina? I demand to see my wife!"

Richard raised one haughty brow, and his lips tightened into a thin line. "Karina is safe from you. She will never have to set eyes on you again."

"She is mine! I own her. You have no right to keep her from me!"

Richard crossed to a low table that sat against one wall and flipped back a piece of cloth. Two gleaming swords lay side by side on the table top. Their cold blades winked menacingly as Richard lifted them and held them up, one in each hand. He turned toward Stuart and gave him a mocking bow. He tossed one of the swords toward Stuart, and it clanged loudly on the wood as it landed near his feet. Stuart's mouth hung open, and he was momentarily stunned speechless.

"I would have given you a pistol for this duel, but we've already established that your aim is as weak as your character," Richard taunted.

Stuart gnashed his teeth as he bent to retrieve the sword, and he eyed the two seamen who still stood nearby. It felt good to have a weapon in his hand, and he weighed the sword, testing it for sturdiness and balance.

"We can switch swords if you don't think yours is worthy, Rawlins. But either way, let's get to this, shall we? If you want Karina, you'll have to kill me to have her."

Stuart shot Richard another glare, and his lips curled into a sneer. "What difference does it make, Bryant? Even if I were to best you, I'm sure your men would shoot me."

Richard turned to the two sailors. "Leave us. You can return to the ship." He waited until they made their exit. They locked the door behind them, and Richard turned to face Stuart. "Unlike you, I am a man of my word. If you win this contest, you will go free. It's just you and me now. I am all that stands between you and the door."

Richard held up the remaining key to the locked door, and then replaced it in his pocket. Stuart's mind raced as he considered the possibility of freedom. Bryant was reputed to be a skilled swordsman, but Stuart had trained with a sword since his childhood, and he had never been beaten in combat. He was chomping at the bit to kill the man responsible for ruining all his plans and causing him such pain and suffering.

Stuart began unbuttoning his shirt, and he shrugged out of it as Richard did the same. Richard moved the chair to one edge. The two men approached the center of the room and stood facing each other, hatred and anger evident on both their faces. They were well matched, their torsos and arms rippling with muscle. They touched their sword tips briefly before Stuart launched his attack.

The sound of clashing steel echoed in the rafters as the two men tested each other, looking for weaknesses. The blades flew in a blur of latent power, and each slashing pass was met and deflected.

"Did you learn your skills with a sword from your father, before he decided to make your younger brother his heir? It must have been painful to have your birthright stripped from you."

Stuart looked momentarily startled. He roared with anger and tried to jab Richard in the gut, only to have him jump out of the way. "How did you know about that? I've never told anyone that I was the eldest son."

"I know many things about you, Rawlins." Richard executed a quick series of slashes to throw the other man off guard. "I know that you murdered your own parents and tried to kill your younger brother so that you could inherit your father's title and estates. Too bad your uncle suspected that their deaths were not accidental and took your brother under his protection, or you might have succeeded."

Stuart's face simmered with hatred. "They deserved what they got. My mother was a slut that spread her thighs for anyone wearing breeches! She bedded so many stable lads that my brother could have been anyone's brat. Still, my father favored him over me. He never believed that I was his son. He denied me what was rightfully mine!"

"So you killed them," Richard growled. He thrust several times in succession, forcing Stuart to leap back to avoid being cut. "You killed them out of greed!"

"I killed them to claim what was mine!"

Fury and desperation fueled Stuart's strength, and he wielded the sword with renewed vigor. Sweat streamed down his face, back and arms as he slashed and parried. His eyes gleamed with anticipation when Richard retreated several steps. He pressed his advantage, forcing Richard to give even more ground.

"So what was your excuse for killing my wife? She didn't have anything that belonged to you." Richard's voice was gravelly with suppressed rage.

Stuart couldn't resist the urge to taunt his nemesis. "I didn't mean to kill her. I was enjoying fucking her so much that I guess I got a little carried away." He saw the hatred flaming in Richard's eyes, and he needled further. "I enjoyed hearing her moan like a whore while I used her."

Stuart jumped backward with a yelp to avoid Richard's flashing blade, and his cocky expression faded as he focused on defending himself.

"Yet, you made sure I would think that William Sinclair had raped and murdered my wife," Richard said quietly, forcing Stuart to retreat a few more steps with his slashing blade. "Why did you do that?"

Stuart was breathing hard as he dodged to avoid the tip of Richard's sword. "I wanted Sinclair to need me. I was hoping to stir up enough trouble that he would turn to me for help in controlling the Arabs. I knew if I made myself indispensable, he would force Karina to marry me."

Richard raised a mocking brow. "And then you could get your hands on his fortune, isn't that right, Rawlins?"

Stuart's narrow eyed glare embodied evil, as he nodded slightly. The muscles in his arm were burning with strain, but he boldly pressed another attack.

"That's right. I won't be satisfied until I have every penny of Sinclair's money. Of course, amusing myself with his daughter while I plan how I am going to kill him is just an added bonus. You should have seen Karina on our wedding night! She begged for mercy while I raped and beat her. I've never seen a haughty bitch transformed into such a sniveling coward. I can't wait to see her expression when I catch up with her and drag her back home."

"You're the only sniveling coward," Richard growled.

Richard's voice was low and deadly, and Stuart felt a presentiment of danger tickle up his spine. Richard tossed his sword from his left hand into his right and swished it through the air. The tenor of the fight changed dramatically. Suddenly, his attacks were faster, his parries conducted with ease. Stuart began to feel the first pangs of real fear as he struggled to keep up. Richard used his blade to slice Stuart's chest in a dozen places, leaving tiny oozing cuts.