Falling for the Pirate (15 page)

“Yes. I believe you.”

He froze—almost the same as when she’d told him she loved him. There was still disbelief in his posture. Though why he doubted her feelings, she couldn’t fathom. He was handsome, kind. A little crude, but surely she wasn’t the only woman to find that fascinating and alluring.

He offered himself freely—his name, his position. His money. She suspected he would be more comfortable if she stayed for those reasons, instead of the one that mattered.

Because she wanted to.

Marriage
. The word rang with finality. Destitute, ruined, she should have been grateful for a proposal. Still, something made her pause, perhaps a repressed worry that she didn’t know everything about Nate yet, and couldn’t yet trust him.

Lord, after what happened with her father, she should know better than to blindly trust any man. But when Nate looked her in the eye and called her his sweetheart, she had to believe he cared about her. And she did. She felt the truth of it in her gut.

She turned in his arms. “If I can trust you to protect me, you can trust me to love you.”

Shadows moved through his eyes. He was conflicted over something. Was it guilt? It was definitely resignation. “Yes.” He swallowed thickly. “Yes, I can. I do.”

Her eyelids drooped. She was halfway to sleep, lulled by the aftermath of passion and the thump of his heart. “Just don’t leave me,” she mumbled.

“No, love. You’re stuck with me.”

A smile curved her lips. Her pirate, always bargaining, always threatening. He couldn’t simply ask and receive an answer. That would be too polite by far.

He made every act a mission, lived each second to the fullest. He had inscribed the darkest part of his life on his skin but in a place few would see. He loved her more than she’d ever hoped for in some ballroom-spun marriage—even if he had yet to say the words. His actions said it for him, his care of her and the way he kept stroking her hair even when he thought she’d fallen asleep.

Chapter Fifteen

Nate woke to the smell of burning wood. Not the oil from a lamp or coal in the hearth. Wood. For a moment, he was thrown back to the grass-covered knoll facing the docks, where the men burned whatever spare lumber or broken carts they could salvage for heat. Back then, his nightly goal had been to survive until morning. He wouldn’t let the cold, the hunger, or the yawning despair drag him under. And he’d succeeded. Somehow, he had pulled himself up—

Why did it smell like a fire?

He jolted upright. “
Fire.
”

Beside him, Juliana rolled over, mumbling, “What?”

“Get up. Right now.” He shook her roughly, too horrified to be gentle. A fire could trap them, trap
her.
He couldn’t see any flames or black smoke, but they weren’t safe here belowdecks. He had to get her out of there.

At least the rest of the crew was safely gone. Only a skeleton crew and a watchman remained. But why hadn’t the—

A bell pealed from overhead, a warning,
all hands on deck
. He slung on his trousers before grabbing Juliana’s hand and pulling her out of the room. From the corner of his eye, white cloth flashed as she dressed quickly.

“Hurry,” he shouted.

Her frightened breaths trailed behind him.

The companionway was blessedly clear—of fire, of smoke—and he pulled her up the ladder with him, onto the deck, unwilling to release her for even a moment until she’d be safe. The smell of charred wood assaulted him, mingling with fresh night air. He saw the orange flame curve upward to the sky for one brief moment before a heavy tarp was thrown over it.

Doused. In moments, the threat had been extinguished, but his frantic pulse remained.

The fire would have blocked their escape if it had spread, its focal point the dockside exit. Part of the ship’s railing had already burned away. The wooden gangway itself appeared to have taken the most damage. It still extended between the ship and the dock, but he wouldn’t trust it to hold weight.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she said, but her gaze dropped to where he held her hand. He’d been holding it too tightly, he realized. Crushing her fingers. He released her, and took a step away for good measure. She shivered, her pale skin pebbled and exposed. She wore only his shirt.

“Go down below,” he told her. “Dress quickly, but warmly, and come back up.”

Her eyes were anxious. It affected him to see her worried for him, to know that she would slay his dragons if she could. Such a small body—too much of it visible beneath the hem of his shirt. He moved to shield her from the crewmen who were waiting for his orders. They needed his instructions, but this was more important. His priority, his allegiance, had always before been to his ship first. Now it went to her.

“I’ll be fine,” he said gently. “But I need to know that you’re fine, too.”

She nodded uncertainly and slipped below deck. Only when she was out of sight could he deal with the wound in his ship. His men wore grim expressions as he examined the damage. Easy enough to repair. The true cost would be measured in the weeks the ship would remain in dock. But the fact remained, it could have been much worse. A fire on a ship could easily be fatal.

He turned to the highest ranking sailor. “What happened?”

The seaman’s eyes were dark. He had been with the ship long enough to feel her pain. Hell, every sailor could. Even the young boys would grow solemn when they saw what had happened to the old girl.

“Someone attacked her, Captain. Threw something wrapped in rags, already on fire. She didn’t have a chance.”

“Did you get a look at the man?”

“It was too dark, and I was already running to fetch the buckets.”

Nate glanced at the dock where a few workers and passersby had stopped to watch. Had the assailant remained behind to see his handiwork? Nate wanted to vault over the rail and find out, but that would only alert any guilty parties. Still, everyone in the vicinity should be questioned. Already Nate’s worry had begun to tighten, to harden into anger. He would find whoever attacked
Nightingale
and make him pay.

“Take two men and find out what you can. If anyone saw something, detain him.”

The seaman looked surprised. “By force?”

“Bribe him first. But if they won’t stay put…” The silence spoke for him. “And send a message to Sinclair.”

Nate had no desire to bring the Thames River Police to their door by threatening bystanders. Neither did he particularly wish to involve the duke, who would no doubt alert the authorities in any case. Damned aristocrats believed that everyone was on their side. Nate knew that public authority meant very little in the realm of fairness and justice. When he found the perpetrator, he would exact his own justice.

Even if the perpetrator was Juliana’s father.

He lifted up the tarp and made a disgusted sound. This part of the rail would need to be replaced. That would be easy. The hull was another matter. Even if the planks had not burned, the structural integrity might be compromised. They would need the shipbuilder to examine it and make repairs.

For certain, they would not be able to set sail as planned.

Nate tossed the canvas onto a pile of supplies closer to the hatch. A squeak came from underneath. Narrowing his eyes, he circled the pile. A foot stuck out at the bottom.
Jesus
.

“Report for duty, Bennett.”

The boy scrambled out and stood. His clothes were wet, as if the water in the bucket had sloshed onto him instead of the fire. He must have helped put it out—and then hid. He was shivering, despite the unusual warmth of the night.

Nate knelt on the deck, bringing him to eye-level. “Do you want to tell me what you saw?”

The boy said nothing. Were they back to this? The sullen, angry boy who refused to speak to Nate? But then Bennett burst into tears…and, oh, God. Nate had never seen the boy like this, huddling in on himself, broken.

“I’m sorry, Cap’n, I’m so sorry.”

No, he couldn’t mean— “Did
you
set the fire?”

“What? No!” A spark of indignation peeked through the tears. “I just— Oh, Cap’n. I was the one on watch duty, sir. I should’ve protected your ship.”

Shit. Now probably wasn’t the time to point out that there were always two guards, one on the deck and one in the crow’s nest. The only reason Bennett had been assigned such a duty was because they’d expected nothing to happen. But there was always an adult on deck.

Nate had gotten into his share of skirmishes on the open seas or at foreign ports. However, after a decade of returning to the London docks, this was the first time anyone had ever attacked them here.

Juliana emerged from belowdecks wearing one of her new dresses. She stood out of the way and watched his men as they poured buckets of water onto the blackened wood, ensuring that no embers had been left.

Her hair had been hastily pinned up. Moonlight limned her silhouette, from the loose bun to the tendrils curling down her neck. She was beautiful and so achingly fragile.

Juliana and Bennett and
Nightingale
—all three of them were his responsibility, all three of them in danger. Because of him.

Nate steeled himself, and turned back to Bennett. “I don’t blame you for the fire, but I have to know, did you see who started it?”

“No, sir.” Opaque eyes in a child who had learned very young to lie well. He might not be lying, of course. If a grown sailor hadn’t spotted the assailant, there was no reason to assume the boy had.

Still, Nate leaned closer. “Bennett, you understand that the safety of the ship depends on finding the culprit.
Juliana’s
safety depends upon it.”

Bennett’s eyes widened. “I understand, sir. I— I’m sorry.”

Nate sighed. Well, perhaps one of the people on shore had seen. They would have been closer. “Here’s what I need you to do. Take one of the boats and row Juliana to the dock. Then take her in my carriage to the house and wait there until I return. This is a very important job, understand? I’m trusting you to keep her safe.”

The boy nodded vigorously. “You can count on me, sir. I swear it. I won’t let you down again.”

“Were you at your post when the fire started?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you get buckets to help put the fire out?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you didn’t let me down. Now go prepare the boat.”

The boy hurried off, looking relieved. He needed to figure what to do with that boy. More than once, he’d had the impulse to remove him from the crew and put him in a boarding school, though he couldn’t guess why. As a boy, Nate would have despised that. Bennett would despise it, too. It just seemed somehow…safer.

…

Juliana waited off to the side, where she would not be in the way of busy seaman. Her position on the periphery also gave her the clearest view of Nate.

Though, she had a difficult time thinking of him as merely Nate, the man with whom she’d shared the deepest intimacy just hours ago. Now, he was Captain Nathaniel Bowen, his stance imposing, his expression forbidding. She could imagine him in negotiations with far-off traders or battling as he protected his ship from pirates. How her opinion of him had changed—from being the pirate to battling them. From villain to hero.

After speaking with Bennett and a few other men, he came to her. “Juliana, I need you to go home. You’ll be safe there, and—”

“But what happened? Please, tell me. Is anyone hurt?”

His eyes softened. “No. Everyone is accounted for. It was most likely a prank by some passing boys. Nothing to worry about.”

“Then why do I have to leave the ship?”

“I’ll be up all night dealing with this. You’ll be better off at the house.”

The thought of leaving filled her with dread. “I want to stay with you. I won’t get in the way, I promise.”

“My carriage will take you there. The footman is armed.”

He thought she was worried about her own safety? The truth was, all instinct for self-preservation had long since fled where he was concerned. Only hours ago she had given him her virginity. She hated to be a wilting violet, but this sudden and dramatic departure was not what she’d expected this morning.

“Nate, please.”

He glanced toward the men, then back to her. “The truth is, Bennett was shaken up. I want him back on land until the ship is fixed. You can keep an eye on him for me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You told him the same thing about me, didn’t you?”

A guilty flush stained his cheeks. “Not exactly.”

“Fine. I’ll leave, because you’re busy and I don’t want to be a distraction. But you’ll come and see me soon, won’t you?”

He paused, seeming almost…shy. It was hard to tell because he still wore no shirt, which distracted
her
. His chest was broad and sprinkled with coarse hair. His waist tapered into trousers which encased muscular thighs. A shadow of beard darkened his jaw, and his hair, far too long to be fashionable, blew unfettered in the slight wind.

In sum, he was completely, powerfully male. Nothing about him spoke of shyness or uncertainty, except for the light in his eyes. She didn’t have a name for that light, exactly. Or rather, she had too many words. Affection, lust.

Love
.

“I’ll come back to you,” he said, his voice low. “That, I promise. I’ll come back as long as you’ll have me.”

Bands of hope cinched tight around her chest. She cupped his cheek. He looked startled for a moment, but he let her draw him down. What did propriety matter? Everyone on the ship knew where she’d slept. More than that, she wanted the world to know—she was his. And he was hers.

“I’ll always have you,” she murmured. “As long as you always come back.”

She pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back with the same fervor—more. He was like a wildfire. She could ignite him, but she couldn’t control the result. He raced over her skin, incandescent.

He pulled back. “You need to go before I drag you down to my cabin.”

She smiled. “Soon.”

“Jesus.”

But he let her go, because the ship needed him. His men looked to him for guidance, and Nate gave it decisively. She got onto the boat alongside Bennett, but her eyes remained on Nate. She watched him as long as she could while the small boat was lowered into the water.

Bennett came with her, of course. He huddled on the seat, looking miserable. She wanted to put her arm around him, but the rigid way he held himself told her he wouldn’t welcome such a gesture—at least, not while the other sailors were nearby. Two seaman rowed them to shore, their muscles rippling under the moonlight.

Were they also assigned to protect her? She suspected they would, if only because she mattered to their captain. It made her wonder if the fire had been more than a prank. The way Nate had rushed to reassure her. The way he had sent her off. And he
would
lie to protect her.

But what was he hiding?

The question dogged her as they climbed the ladder to the docks. Once inside the carriage, Bennett burst into tears. With a sound of dismay, she pulled him into her arms.

“There, there. It will be all right. You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“N-no, but he’ll get rid of me now.”

Lord. “Of course he won’t! Why would you think that?”

He shuddered but continued to let her hold him. “That’s what always happens. I get somewhere and think I’m going to stay. But then next thing I know I’m being pushed off to another workhouse or some other apprenticeship.”

“I’m sorry that happened before, but I’m sure the captain has no intention of sending you away.”

“He will. You’ll see,” Bennett said, his voice full of scorn and tearful certainty.

Well, she would discuss the matter with Nate when he returned. The boy needed to be told, in no uncertain terms, that his position on the ship was safe. The boy needed to understand that
he
was safe. Was it presumptuous of her to assume she could promise that? Perhaps. But she could tell Nate cared about the boy.

And she would be Nathanial’s wife.