Page 3 of Her Tempestuous Duke

The sodden figure was that of a female—a petite one, slender of waist and with long dark hair. An unwelcome surge of sorrow washed over him.

He shouldn’t care about the death of one unknown woman. Death was everywhere, and the sea was one of the most likely places to encounter it. But it was odd that this woman should be here by herself.

He cast about and discovered a few slivers of wood and a broken oar. From a capsized rowing boat? A lifeboat, sent out from a ship imperiled by the recent storm? Or was the shattered wood unconnected with this woman’s tragedy? Had she thrown herself into the ocean to end her sufferings?

“I suppose I’d better bury her on the beach, had I not, Ariel?” Although he could, of course, take her to the village, where they were used to dealing with such things. But then there would be an investigation and awkward questions asked. His true identity might be discovered, and he wasn’t yet strong enough for that.

Ariel rocked back and forth on his shoulder as Parys prodded the corpse with his foot. He rolled her onto her back, then stepped back, stunned, as the woman let out a moan.

Was that just the seawater moving in her lungs? His heart thudded painfully against his ribs. A living woman would bring more danger into his life than a dead one.

He strode to the beach’s edge, staring at the crashing waves and feeling the same turmoil that drove them. How could he, in all conscience, abandon a fellow human being in need? Maybe her arrival here was timely—maybe the Fates were telling him that it was time to re-enter the world outside. He must prepare his campaign of vengeance, and risk whatever was necessary to restore the balance of his life.

Ariel pecked at his ear. He brushed at the bird irritably, but the creature sank its claws more deeply into his shoulder.

“You poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack linen mate. You scullion. You benighted fool.” Ariel bit Parys’ ear again, then flew back to nuzzle at the woman’s hair.

Perhaps the bird was right. Perhaps he was a benighted fool—only madness would cause him to hesitate. Maybe he’d been driven insane, living in isolation on the clifftop, surrounded by the specters of the monks who’d lived there before him, and haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Ariel seemed to have taken to the young lady. The bird nuzzled beneath her ear, and she flapped an enfeebled hand at him. She was alive and must be saved. Parys’ fate was sealed.

It would be a gargantuan task getting the girl back up the cliff, and he never knew when his weakness would come upon him. Perhaps he should wait until the causeway was clear again and run to the village to borrow a donkey. He knew the smugglers had several of those surefooted beasts, well able to navigate these treacherous paths.

The girl shivered and coughed. How long had she been there? She must be so cold, and might already be near death. If she was a foreigner, he could surreptitiously leave her somewhere on the mainland to be looked after. She wouldn’t be able to explain where she’d been or give any description of her rescuer. Fate or not, he wasn’t going to interact with the rest of the world until he was certain he was ready.

He stood over her and gazed down. The pale perfection of her skin indicated her youth—she could be little more than twenty years of age. Her chin was pointed, her mouth small and rosebud-like, giving her an elfin appearance. Dark lashes pressed against her pallid cheeks. It had been a long time since he had looked upon such refined beauty. It had also been a long time since he’d seen anyone dressed in a muslin gown and fine wool coat. She wore one stocking, but both her shoes were gone, and her long hair was spread out on the sand like that of a beached mermaid.

A new feeling awakened in his chest, and he winced and closed his eyes. Then opened them again in shock as a terrified female scream split the air.

Chapter Three

Minerva had pretended that she’d fainted—it seemed the safest thing to do. But one couldn’t remain unconscious forever, and the feeling of the man’s eyes on her face was frightening her.

He looked as much a villain as the beggars and veterans she’d seen hanging around the poor areas of Naples. Yet, despite his fearsome appearance, he must surely mean her no harm. She was the victim of a shipwreck—albeit a small one—and everyone was primed to rescue and take care of shipwrecked persons. Weren’t they? She preferred to think the best of people, even in such dire circumstances—he must be given the benefit of the doubt.

She opened her eyes. “Where am I? Where’s everyone else?”

Alarm flashed across his features. “There are others?”

How could he be afraid of anything, this sturdy fellow with his wild gray eyes and tangled hair? She was the one who was entirely at his mercy.

“Yes.” She struggled to sit upright and suffered another bout of coughing. Her cheeks went hot. “Please forgive me.” She spat a mouthful of salt water onto the sand beside her.

Was he smiling at her? It was hard to tell, with half his face hidden by that wayward beard.

“We don’t stand on ceremony here. If you need to empty your lungs, do so. Can you walk? I expect you need feeding and fresh water.”

He made her sound like a domestic animal. With a sinking heart, she stared up at the dark, menacing cliff face. What provender was there to be had in such a desolate spot? This was no place for a young woman of gentle breeding. She needed to be restored to her guardian.

“We must go and look for the others.” It was unimaginable that they had been drowned. If she, small as she was, had survived the capsizing of the boat, the men must have, too. Searching for other survivors was the obvious thing to do, so why was her companion shaking his head?

“What others? You’re the only one on this stretch of beach.”

“My guardian, his valet, and a footman.” Why did he hesitate? Every moment counted. Had this man no heart?

“Persons of quality, then?” He raised an eyebrow.

A sudden gust of wind whipped up from the sea, reminding her that this was December and she would die if she couldn’t get warm and dry.