Page 29 of The Pirate's Stolen Bride
The bird had its revenge immediately. It clamped onto his trousers, right in the crotch. The earl’s face turned ashen, and Uncle Monty was forced to help him evade the rest of the angry flock.
“Time to go,” Rémy said. He scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder, heading past the storage area into the same closet where he’d first taken her hostage. Harriet couldn’t stop laughing. The entire escape was so ridiculous and undignified.
But it worked.
Inside the natural passageway cut by time and waves into the cliffside, Rémy set her on her feet. Panting, they burst into the cave and found Benoit waiting for them.
“Thierry m’a dit que tu aurais peut-être besoin d’aide.” He grinned. The men grasped one another’s forearms and Rémy leaped into the dinghy. He held out his hand to Harriet and translated. “Benoit says he thought we might need help when he overheard Leacham bragging to Maggie about capturing me.”
“You come willingly this time?” asked Benoit.
“Very,” she answered, settling beside Rémy on the bench seat. “I am his willing accomplice in every adventure henceforth. I choose him, today and always.”
“Bien,” Benoit grunted and pushed off, paddling quickly toward the opening. “That will make it easier not to capsize the boat.”
As they made their way out to sea, a cluster of men burst into the cave, shouting and pointing. Harriet tucked herself close to Rémy’s side and waved goodbye to her uncle, grinning.
Slowly, the duke’s fury faded. A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. Leacham spat curses into the distance between them. Whatever had happened to his pistol, he didn’t appear to have it with him now. She was sure he would have tried to shoot at them if he did.
The Duke of Montgomery put his palm between the Rider’s shoulder blades and sent him toppling into the sea.
Rémy chuckled. “He deserved that.”
Under the glow of the moon, they rowed out to sea, leaving Cavalier Cove behind forever?—
Almost.
EPILOGUE
A NEW LIFE
Two years later, Rémy had acquired a lovely property in La Rochelle, France. He kept his boat,La Belle Aventure,moored along the quais with the fishermen. On this bright summer morning, however, she wasn’t in her slip.
Harriet expected him to return at any moment. She set out to the market with their son, Lucien, on her hip. He was six months old with bright blue eyes like his papa’s, and she adored every chubby inch of him.
“Allons au marché, ma puce. Let’s go to the market.” Shopping was her favorite way to practice her now-fluent French. She still spoke to her son in English whenever they were at home. Lucien would need both languages to help manage the family’s growing export business one day.
After a surprisingly brief period of stubborn anger, Uncle Monty had relented and used his considerable influence to clear Rémy’s name. While theSpectrehad been sold to settle the excise taxes owed to King George, its buyer had been none other than Thomas Davies, a shopkeeper in Cavalier Cove who specialized in imported French goods. His purchase had been funded by none other than Viscount Prescott—for a cut of the profits, naturally. It wouldn’t do for a gentleman to go into trade. Investing in a thriving enterprise, however, was a different story.
If Thomas Davies was known on this side of the English Channel as Thierry Desmarais, well, the citizens of Cornwall were not inclined to inform the universally-loathed Excise Officers of the fact that he was the smuggler known as Le Fantôme.
Thierry had rechristened the cutter and sent it back to its proper captain, Rémy. With the kidnapping charges dropped and his name cleared, Harriet’s beloved husband had gone right back to what he did best: acquiring French goods for an excellent price, taking them to England, and selling them for profit. Technically, Thierry was the one doing the selling, but their partnership had been a lucrative one.
Nowadays, they paid the taxes owed—at least, partly.
Once he saw that Rémy was not a fortune hunter, Uncle Monty had released Harriet’s dowry, enabling them to buy a fine home and employ several servants. Truly, the only difference between her life now and the one she would have had as Lady Lucarran was the degree of wealth versus her independence.
After being jilted, Lord Lucarran had married a different woman, and promptly passed away. She inherited a sizable estate and instituted a number of changes to the benefit of his Irish tenants. Harriet wished Lady Lucarran much joy in her widowhood.
“Da,” Lucien pointed. He wiggled inside his wrap.
“No, that’s not your papa.” Harriet adjusted her grip on his thigh and inspected apples. She chose three. “Apple.”
“Da. Da!” the baby wiggled.
“Pomme,” the smiling vendor said to Lucien, who stuck his head into the crook of her neck and drooled. Harriet paid for her purchase and moved on to the next stall to purchase oysters. One of her favorite adventures had been learning to love fresh seafood all year round. La Rochelle’s fishermen meant meals of oysters, scallops, and fresh-caught cod.
“Now there’s your da,” she said softly as she spotted a sleek ship pull into the marina. This had been a passenger run. Rémy had taken a family to Polperro and then gone to see Thierry, Ada, and their two children.
