Within a Captain's Hold by Lisa A. Olech

tossing in the stiff breeze. A dull moon smudged the sky as the night stretched beyond his reach out to sea, yet he couldn’t see past his thoughts. Duke Wentworth was the man Giselle told him about. There was no question in his mind.
    Moreover, he stalked Annalise. Given everything she had been through, her actions, however foolhardy, seemed justified. He recalled Giselle’s description of the young girl so close to death. That could have been Annalise had she not snuck aboard. His blood ran cold at the idea of Wolfsan even near her. Jaxon’s hands curled into fists. Over my dead body.
     

CHAPTER 11
     
    Wolfsan carried two lanterns into the windowless room and set them on the polished table lighting the sparsely decorated space. He wrinkled his nose. Crumbling stonewalls leeched the ground’s moisture and dripped into muddied corners. The horrid space reeked of mold and mice. He smoothed his hands down the unadorned satin of his waistcoat. He was without his wig. The chill of the dank room felt odd against his cropped scalp.
    He turned on his guest. “Ah, yes, you’re awake. Good.”
    She blinked against the light. Fear flickered across her face. “Wolfsan,” her breath rushed from her lungs.
    “That’s Your Grace to you,” he sneered at the young maid. “It seems we’ve caught a thief. How lovely you look in your mistress’s clothing and jewels.”
    “I haven’t stolen anything.” She tugged against her restraints. “You have no right to hold me. Let me go.”
    “I think not.” Wolfsan removed his gloves and ran his hands over the rounded flesh of her breasts pressed high by the gown. She kicked at him, but he quickly stepped out of range. A deep flush bloomed up the girl’s neck and pinked her cheeks. Her eyes flashed hot. He liked a bit of fight. It made things much more interesting.
    Moving to the table, he poured himself a brandy from a decanter Sheffield left for him. He studied her over the rim of the glass. “This is going to be most enjoyable. I can sense it.”
    He finished his drink and began circling her like a cat taunting a mouse. Green eyes glared at him.
    “Why so silent? You must have questions. I would be most happy to answer them for you and then you can answer several for me.”
    “I’ll tell you nothing. I’m not afraid of you.”
    “Ah, your first mistake. It will be a costly one.” Wolfsan poured another drink and emptied the glass in one swallow. “I assume you are not dimwitted. You must realize your current plight, my dear. Your mistress is missing, as is her uncle, and you were found fleeing the city in her gown, wearing her jewels, with a fat purse of gold. Thievery alone will land you in Newgate for a very long time, and I’m sure I can convince the magistrate you were involved in the gruesome murder of the unfortunate Marquis. For that, my dear, you shall hang.”
    “I’ll tell them the truth. You killed Lord Gatherone.”
    Wolfsan laughed. “Ah, yes, they’ll believe the word of a servant over a duke. You do amuse us.” He poured another drink. The alcohol was spreading a pleasurable flush through him. “As I see it, you have limited choices. I can bring you at once to the authorities and promise you within a month’s time you shall be hanging from the gallows. Or, you can tell me the whereabouts of Lady Annalise, I can release you, and you can be on your way.” The lie danced off his tongue. His threat of prison a hollow one. She would never be leaving this room. Least not alive. Once he had his information and amusement, he’d have no use for her.
    “If those are my choices, I choose Newgate, and when my neck is stretched upon the gallows, I’ll be smiling, for I’ll die knowing Annalise is safe from the very devil himself.”
    Fury made him hurl his glass at her head. His aim was poor, and the crystal shattered against the wall behind her. Glittering shards and brandy rained down over the stones. “Foolish bitch.”
    Wolfsan strode over to her and