Historical Romance Boxed Set (14 page)

“We might not think it’s so much to our liking if we ever get caught,” Trenton muttered. “This last escape was a little too narrow for my comfort. What if Mary hadn’t sent Rat to warn us? Newgate isn’t a pleasant place to spend the rest of one’s life, you know.”

Nathaniel measured Trenton with his eyes. “My father is an impatient man. I don’t think he would bother with Newgate.”

* * *

Alexandra glanced up as Nathaniel walked into the cabin, then finished biting off the thread she had used to mend Tiny’s shirt. She had been relaxed, almost enjoying the solitude of her work, until the pirate captain appeared. His presence always unnerved her.

She tried to ignore him as she leaned toward the candle to better examine her handiwork.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Tiny needed some help.” Alexandra neatly folded in her lap the shirt she had mended. “You don’t expect me to sit idle the entire voyage, do you?”

Nathaniel watched her dubiously. “Forgive my skepticism, but such selfless service on behalf of a poor sailor hardly seems compatible with your station and upbringing. Not to mention your character. I feel it only fair to warn you that he wouldn’t betray me or his mates. Not for all the shirts in Bond Street. Or even a beautiful woman.”

Alexandra’s spine stiffened. “A pirate counsels me on character?”

“Hardly a pirate.” Nathaniel crossed to the bed and shrugged out of his shirt. “But since you’ve taken it upon yourself to do some mending, perhaps you’ll see to this. I just tore the seam.” He tossed his shirt into her lap.

Alexandra tried to hold her gaze away from Nathaniel’s tanned chest, but it seemed to wander there almost of its own volition. He stood facing her, his shoulders square, the muscles of his arm chiseled as if hewn in stone. A blush rose to her cheeks as the memory of that chest, solid against her back, flashed unbidden in her mind.

“No.” She stood and placed the garment on the desk. The shirt was still warm and smelled of Nathaniel, heating her blood in a way she had never experienced before. She dared not touch it.

She turned away so she would no longer be tempted to stare at the handsome spectacle he made. What was there about this man that titillated her every nerve? “I’ll sew when and for whom I want. I’m not one of your men. You’ll not command me.”

Alexandra heard his tread on the floor behind her, but she held her ground until Nathaniel reached over her shoulder to run a thumb lightly over her jawline and slowly down her neck. Then she couldn’t restrain a shiver.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. “Must you list to ensnare Tiny’s humble heart? I am the only one who can set you free. Am I too much of a beast?”

“I have no desire to ensnare your heart or any other. Tiny was simply kind, and I—I—” Alexandra forgot what she was about to say as Nathaniel’s lips replaced his thumb at her nape.

“I’m your sister,” she gasped, trying to whirl away. But her words sounded unconvincing, even to herself, and he easily restrained her.

Turning her to face him, he asked, “Are you?” His eyes glimmered with a light Alexandra had never seen there before as he moved closer, so close that his sweet-smelling breath fanned her cheek. “Would my sister let me touch her like a lover? Kiss the slim column of her throat?”

His head bent to follow the suggestion of his words, and for Alexandra, the world stopped revolving. Swaying toward him, she could think of little besides the yearning to feel his mouth on hers.

She hated this man. Why was she doing this? she wondered, as his arm curved behind her back, pulling her against him. His mouth was only a fraction of an inch away when her befuddled brain finally produced the answer that had momentarily eluded her:
He’s testing me. He wants to know if I’m Anne or the seamstress I claim to be.

Suddenly the terrifying picture of Rat’s leering face conjured in Alexandra’s mind, and she remembered how essential it was that Nathaniel believe her to be his sister. Rat was waiting for when she was no longer valuable to Nathaniel, for when he discarded her, as he would if he learned the truth.

Denying herself the very sweetness she longed to taste, she shoved Nathaniel away with a strength born of panic. “How dare you?” She attempted to put as much loathing into her words as she could muster. “I’m your sister.”

Nathaniel’s breathing was ragged as he continued to stare into her eyes. He wet his lips, as if he would kiss her still; then with a heavy sigh, pulled back.

“Aye. You’re a heartless wench,” he said, and with that he turned on his heel and left.

Chapter 6

It was dusk, and difficult to see very far, even with a glass. After patrolling the Mediterranean Sea for more than a week, Nathaniel was ready to give up. No Greystone ships were to be found. The message Rat had delivered must have been garbled, or the schedule of shipments altered. Either scenario was entirely possible.

Nathaniel strode to the wheel. “Tack to the east and make another pass. If we don’t find anything, we’ll head back come morning,” he told the ship’s navigator.

The boat shifted as his instructions were carried out, and the
Vengeance’
s course was set for another sweeping circle. They moved at a moderate speed, sails billowing like huge pillows in the sky, while Nathaniel watched the sun melt into the water.

The color of the ocean darkened to inky black, mirroring the stars that began to shine overhead, and he thought he would never leave the sea. It was the mother he never knew, his teacher, his healer, his friend.

“Are we going to head back?” Trenton came to stand beside his captain, and Nathaniel’s eyes shifted to his friend’s face.

“Aye. I thought it strange that a ship of my father’s would put in at a Russian port. Although England has yet to declare war, it is only a matter of time. Soon English ships will no longer be allowed in Russian ports like those of neutrals.”

“Ever since the Russians destroyed the Turkish squadron at Sinope last November, war has been inevitable,” Trenton agreed, propping himself against the railing. “England can hardly allow her ally to sustain such aggression without some kind of support. If Czar Nicholas takes Constantinople, he’ll control the overland route to India.”

“Regardless of our allies, England could never stand for that.” Nathaniel sighed, watching the dim shadow of Garth climb about the rigging, trimming and adjusting the sails. “My father has eluded us, this time. But there will be other opportunities.”

“Do you think he purposely leaked faulty information?”

“Perhaps.”

“Is Rat in league with Greystone?”

“No, he wouldn’t have placed his life in our hands if he were. I think the schedule was altered after we received our information. If my father was wise, he would make more last-minute changes.”

Trenton grunted, then moved away as Nathaniel looked heavenward.

If only life could be so peaceful, Nathaniel thought, his mind once again returning to his half sister. After the day he had almost kissed her, he had ordered a hammock strung in his cabin. He slept there himself, giving Anne the bed. He’d offered no explanation, nor could he think of a good one. Nathaniel only knew that he avoided any contact with her because the test he had given her had backfired. He had meant to finally put his mind to rest concerning her identity. But that was hardly the outcome of their brief encounter. Now touching her was what he craved most.

He pictured her long blond tresses curling down around her face, her large green eyes gazing up at him with their thick, sooty lashes, and couldn’t help but smile. She was beautiful. And stubborn. And courageous. And so damn tempting that sometimes he couldn’t sleep for listening to her every movement in the bed.

Nathaniel swore. How could a man desire his own sister? It wasn’t natural. But there were times when he wanted to caress her tenderly, to protect her from the world, and to his utter mortification, feel her soft flesh beneath him.

He had to think of a way to rescue Richard, he decided, and rid himself of Anne at the earliest opportunity.

* * *

At dawn Alexandra braved the sailors and the chill air to visit the deck. She stood near the bulwarks, gazing out to sea, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility.

Though the sun peeked over the horizon, the water was still dark and glassy, with occasional white foaming waves that splashed high into the air. The sight captivated her. She had not seen its equal for beauty. But even the prospect of such a spectacular view had not been the reason Alexandra had left the cabin and risked running into Rat again. Nathaniel was. He had washed, shaved, and brushed his teeth before leaving their cabin only moments before, and she had followed him.

What was it about him, she thought irritably, that made her listen for his step at the door, hear his voice amid the hum of many others? He was a blackguard.

He looked dangerous, stealthy, full of grace and power. Yet he was not like the usual ruffian. No common slang marred his speech, and an air of authority, even magnetism, flowed from him. Alexandra could hardly keep her eyes on the splendor before her, knowing that he stood nearby.

“…we’ll stop there next trip…”

She enjoyed the rich timbre of his voice as she listened to him talk to Garth somewhere behind her, and she thought about the fabric she had found in his trunk. She longed to create something with it, but the garment that kept coming to mind was none other than a full dress shirt for the pirate captain himself, which made no sense at all. Why would she want to please him? Or was it simply that his physique so easily lent itself to the creation of beauty?

Alexandra allowed herself a sidelong glance at Nathaniel, then felt the blood rise in her cheeks when she found him watching her. She looked quickly back to the east, trying to ignore him, but a moment later he came to stand beside her.

“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” she asked, growing uncomfortable when he didn’t speak.

“Only you,” he said.

Startled, Alexandra looked up into his face. She expected him to turn his words into some kind of a taunt, but he looked in earnest.

“I’ve done everything I can do to improve this dress with my needle,” she said, unsure how to respond to the compliment. “Washing it in seawater has all but ruined it and makes me itch like mad.”

“I could lend you something else, but I doubt my clothes would do justice to your form.”

Alexandra raised an eyebrow, remembering her part as Lady Anne. “Wear men’s clothing? Never.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t give you a choice. It’s foolish to be so uncomfortable.”

John interrupted them then, and Nathaniel excused himself. Striding off to settle some issue between the cook and the purser, he left Alexandra to puzzle over his unpredictable behavior. She never knew what to expect from him.

She lingered on the deck until the sun grew bright and full, then went below to find a hip bath sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, rushing over to feel the water. It was fresh, and warm as well. She longed to rid her body of the salt that made her skin miserably dry, but a knock interrupted her before she could remove her clothes.

“Come in,” Alexandra called, afraid to turn her head away from the bath for fear it would disappear.

Charlie, the ship’s cook, entered. He carried a pail of water, his frown so deep it reminded Alexandra of the lines on the face of a wooden puppet.

“As if the captain doesn’t bathe enough already,” he grumbled, eyeing her resentfully. “Now we got to be haulin’ water for the enemy’s kin. But I ain’t never ‘ad to heat it before.”

The buxom woman tattooed on Charlie’s arm danced as he poured the water out of his pail, and Alexandra suppressed a giggle of delight, unaffected by the cook’s displeasure. She couldn’t imagine what had motivated Nathaniel to provide her with such a rare treat, but at that moment she could have kissed his feet.

“That’s the last of it,” Charlie muttered as he left.

“Thank you.” Alexandra twirled in circles once the door closed behind him. She’d had nothing but sponge baths for a week and was anxious to enjoy the real thing—until she remembered that the cabin door had no lock. Nathaniel had had it removed before she ever boarded the
Vengeance,
refusing her the option of locking it against him. Now Alexandra feared he, or someone else, might interrupt her.

Letting her fingers dangle, she felt the water quickly losing its precious heat.

She couldn’t waste such a luxury, she reasoned. Charlie had gone to a great deal of trouble, and fresh water was too precious aboard a ship.

Retrieving the cake of soap from the washstand and setting it within easy reach of the bath, she undid the myriad of tiny buttons that descended from her collar to her waist. The gown fell past her hips to the floor. She laid it across the bed, then hurriedly removed her undergarments and stepped in.

“Ohhhh,” she groaned, hunching down until the water rose up to her neck. Sinking beneath it, she scrubbed her head, then lathered her body.