“Katherine Bone’s books are a rollicking romp in the classic style. From ship deck to London ballroom, Ms. Bone’s stories are packed with intrigue, and rough and dangerous heroes that positively delight.” ~ Katharine Ashe, author of Captured by a Rogue Lord
“Katherine Bone is an author after my own heart! Her books are sexy, adventurous romps guaranteed to keep you reading into the wee hours of the night.” ~ Shana Galen, author of THE ROGUE’S PIRATE BRIDE
“In case you forgot how sexy, fun, and romantic pirates can be, Katherine Bone’s Duke by Day. Rogue by Night is the perfect reminder.” ~ Quillen Hart, author of the Confessions of a Boomtown Madam series
CONSTANCE DANBURY is desperate to escape an arranged marriage to a man nearly twice her age. Her only hope is to board a merchantman bound for Spain to enlist her aunt’s help. Her plans go awry when she’s captured by pirates. Even more alarming, her traitorous body longs for the man who’s returning her to England! Pushed into a marriage of convenience, she’s caught between two men—one owns her heart, the other is bent on stealing it.
PERCIVAL AVERY is a member of Nelson’s Tea, an elite group assigned to protect England’s shores at any cost. On a mission to avenge his sister’s death, Percy infiltrates the gang of cutthroats responsible. When his vessel attacks a merchantman, Percy must choose between vengeance and saving the life of his commander’s niece. His only choice is to mutiny, but mutiny obliterates his well-laid plans. Forced on a new course that leads straight back to Constance Danbury, Percy has to make a decision—chase revenge or allow himself to love again.
English Coast, 1804
GENTLY BRED WOMEN did not disobey their fathers.
Constance understood what her mission entailed. Sail to Spain and plead for her aunt’s support, contrary to her father’s wishes. He detested Aunt Lydia. As a result, no interaction between herself and Aunt Lydia had been allowed since her mother’s death. She had no idea if the woman was even still alive, as no communiqués had arrived to announce her death or verify her health. That she ventured out onto the sea, risking life and limb to find her aunt, was due to her uncle’s insistence. Aunt Lydia was their only hope. Halfway to Spain, Constance lay in her cabin with one goal in mind, winning her aunt’s favor so the Danbury name would not come to ruin.
The reality of how far her family had fallen in so short a time hit Constance full force when a shrill whistle barreled over the merchantman Octavia’s deck. All at once, the ship recoiled and one thunderous volley after another exploded, vibrating the vessel from bow to stern. She stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, willing it to hold firm, fearing its collapse. Fighting back ghastly images of her mother’s death at sea proved almost too difficult a task. She knew well enough what awaited if the ship sank — a watery grave. She had borne that experience ten years earlier, survived, and found herself a motherless child as a result.
The handle on the cabin door jostled, heightening her anxiety. Hampered by the bolt she’d put in place before retiring for the night, her would-be intruder jerked the knob and thumped on the sturdy wood with vengeance.
Lieutenant Guffald’s voice sent her into action. Constance darted to the door. The gallant officer calling her name had nearly lost favor with his captain for promising her uncle to give her safe passage to San Sebastian. Constance suppressed a shiver. Matters were most grave, if Guffald attempted to enter her cabin without waiting for her admittance. He was a gentleman, one unlike the man she was trying to escape.
Constance glanced at her terrified governess, Mrs. Mortimer, and opened the door. The lieutenant brushed past her, pushing his way into the cabin. He turned and hurriedly grabbed her by the shoulders, casting aside propriety.
“Pirates have drawn alongside us and have every intention to board.”
“Pirates?” The barely audible word rushed out of her mouth, and the irony of the situation hit her with inescapable force.
“I’ve come to warn you,” the lieutenant continued. “Stay inside your cabin. Bolt the door. Admit no one until I return.”
Pirates. Heaven help her, not again!
The lieutenant spoke, his voice barely audible to her ears. “Mrs. Mortimer, I entrust Lady Constance into your care. I beg you — make sure no one enters this room but me.”
“I shall do as you say, sir,” the older woman said.
Another explosion pounded the ship. The Octavia listed. Constance screamed. Lieutenant Guffald wrapped his arms about her to keep her from slipping to the floor. Thankful for assistance, Constance ignored his possessive stare and endured his overprotective embrace until the vessel righted and she could safely dislodge their sinfully entwined limbs. The man was not Lord Montgomery Burton, Baron of Burton. She had no reason to fear him. With Grecian bone structure and thick disheveled blond hair, the lieutenant was a man prepared to sacrifice himself for duty and honor. He was a man with allegiances. A man who fought for a woman, not one lying in wait to stake his claim like that lecherous lord her father planned for her to marry. And yet there was a glint in his cerulean eyes that unnerved her. Could she trust him?
“I must go,” Guffald forced between clenched teeth. His grip on her upper arm tightened, belying his words. She quickly assigned his behavior to the fact that he worried for her safety.
She nodded. “Thank you for coming to warn us.”
His lip curled to one side and an odd light illuminated his eyes. Though Constance yearned to cry out in fear, to beg him to stay, she preferred the lieutenant slay the enemy before the brigands arrived at her door.
“Do not leave this room,” he reminded them, his eyes an unblinking beacon of hope…