HIS DUCHESS AT EVENTIDE (MYTHIC DUKES #2) BY WENDY LACAPRA – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Wendy LaCapra
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
November 1805
WIND WIPPED CAPTAION Lord Cheverley’s improvised sail against his
raft’s mast. Salted sea-spray stung his lips and gusts roared in his ears.
Using his shoulder, he wiped rain from his eyes and then re-wedged the
paddle between his left arm and leg. Thighs straining, he gripped the
groaning rudder.
He hadn’t survived the unspeakable—seven years of war, a shipwreck,
the loss of his right arm below the elbow, and six excruciating years of
captivity—only to fail now.
Had he?
Wine-dark depths did not defer to long-serving officers of the Royal
Navy. Frothy white waves were indifferent to sons of dukes. And lifehungry storms didn’t give a damn if they stripped wives of their husbands,
or sons of their fathers.
Penelope. Thaddeus. Vast emptiness yawned. Instinctively, he
beseeched the heavens. Please. I must survive.
No god answered, only darkness without direction, no land, no guiding
stars. The blank, shifting water beneath promised death—the same, slow
demise that had claimed the lives of Chev’s fellow seamen stationed with
him on the HMS Defiance.
That gale, too, had materialized as if summoned by Poseidon’s trident,
without warning and yet powerful enough to devour his sixty-four-gun ship.
Rocks like rusted knives protruded from a deadly shoal. Waves thundered
without reprieve, breaking the Defiance into pieces unfit for kindling. And
his ship’s end had been only the beginning of his nightmare.
Tu n’es rien. You are nothing. Je te possède maintenant en entier. I own
every part of you, now.
His raft listed. He spit over the side.
How much adversity could a man face before he surrendered to
annihilation’s mercy? How god-damned much?
The wind bellowed. Siren whispers sounded, sensing weakness—
supplicate, surrender, submit.
What did he have to offer the world he’d left behind? He’d thought he’d
return a hero. Instead, he was broken in body and soul. If he yielded to the
storm, would it not be kinder to his family and a just restitution for his sins?
Memories feathered through his thoughts. His face buried in the
softness of Penelope’s hair. Her fingers, drifting in soothing circles against
the small of his back.
He inhaled deep, straining against invisible bonds and roaring back into
the wind. He cursed fate. He cursed God. He cursed the pirate witch who’d
kept him captive. Then, he cursed himself.
His anger crystalized in breath, clouding the chilled air. He’d escaped
captivity, darkness, restraints. Zephyr’s winds and Poseidon’s waves
demanded the final say, but he would not give up without a fight.
Not tonight.
The bundle strapped across his back held what little remained of hung
beef and brandy. His cask of fresh water ran low, but he had enough to last
another day.
He smothered his weakness, gritted his teeth, and held fast to the
rudder.
He’d survive.
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