Love With an Improper Stranger (8 page)

Without doubt, he did not refer to the lobscouse.

Resolved to make the best of the situation, Lenore scooted toward the opposite end of the small table, but the meager distance afforded no shelter from the prepossessing naval man.  And so she endured his haphazard attention, suffering in silence until the simmering heat pervaded her flesh and invested her muscles.  A decadent hunger unfurled in her belly, even as she assuaged another appetite, until she resisted not the temptation Blake presented.

When she yielded to his lure, the strange but enticing craving for his touch grew in epic proportions, and she struggled to maintain her characteristic demur composure.  To her thanks, dinner passed without incident, until Lucy jumped to her feet.

“Shall I fetch the dessert, Lenny?”  As always, Lucy fidgeted with unbounded excitement, as she nursed a sweet tooth.

“If the Captain approves.”  Given he was the guest of honor, Lenore deferred to his wishes.  “What say you, Blake?”

“Bring on the cake.”  He tossed his napkin over his plate and leveled a piercing stare on Lenore.  “Be a dear and ask Cook for a bottle of rum, too.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”  Lucy sketched a salute and skipped from the cabin.

All manner of invective traipsed her tongue, which she held in a remarkable show of restraint, until he covered her hand with his, and she flinched.

“Are you vexed with me?”  Despite the sincere tenor of his query, his devilish smile belied any concern he might have for her good opinion.  “Have I been bad?”

“You have been very bad, but you know that.”  With the pad of his thumb, he massaged her palm, and she tried but failed to suppress a shiver.  “Blake, you should not behave with such impropriety, given we have no understanding, and we are unlikely to enter into such an arrangement.”

“In ordinary circumstances I would agree with all but the last of your assertions.  But we are at sea, free from society’s disapproving scrutiny and obdurate strictures, and I would explore the possibilities, if you are amenable.”  When she did not respond, as her brain could form no coherent rejoinder, he squeezed her fingers.  “Come now, you must know I am interested.”

“Upon my word, but you take my breath away.”  The small chamber seemed to spin out of control, and she was grateful for her chair, else she might embarrass herself.  “Are you always so direct?  And we hardly know each other.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.”  Of course, he chuckled.  “And I know no other way when it comes to you.  As for your charge, in regard to our acquaintance, I would remind you of the night you spent in my lap, garbed in naught but your chemise.  So what say you, lovely Lenore?  Will you permit me to—”

“Cook says the crew devoured your treat, sister.”  Lucilla barged into the room.  “And I have a full bottle of rum, Cap’n, though Dr. Avery suggests you monitor Lenny’s intake.”  Then Lucy quieted, as she noted the fact that Blake maintained his grip on Lenore’s hand, in spite of her efforts to break free.  “Are you going to marry my sister, Cap’n?”

In that instant, Lenore feared she might swoon.

“Would you like me to marry your sister?”  Blake drew circles atop Lenore’s knuckles.

“I think it would be wonderful.”  With her customary gusto, Lucy plunked into her seat.  “She could sail with you to exotic locales and meet new and exciting people.”  Then she glanced at Lenore.  “Can you imagine it, Lenny?”

She would give anything to fall overboard at that moment.  “Given sailing and I do not quite mix, I am not sure that would be a good idea.”

“Well you need not worry, in that respect.”  To her chagrin, her prospective suitor kissed her fingertips.  “If you were my wife, I would keep you barefoot and pregnant, and you would spend your days either in the kitchen or in my bed, as that is the sum total of a woman’s worth, in my estimation.”

Slapping her thigh, Lucy pealed with laughter.  “How positively medieval, Cap’n.”

“I beg your pardon?”  And that was sufficient to snap Lenore from her short-lived fantasy.  Wrenching from his hold, she stood.  “I would have you know there is more to me than that, and any man who wishes to wed me will have to accept the fact that I have a mind and opinions of my own, which I can, will, and do share.”

“Really?”  He stuck his tongue in his cheek.  “I never would have guessed, but I adore that about you.”

“Do not mock me, sir.”  She would have stomped her foot, but the last time she did that she lost a shoe.

“Ah, how your fiery gaze sparkles when I ruffle your feathers.”  With a hearty chuckle, he winked at Lenore and chucked Lucy’s shoulder.  “And what else would you share with me, Miss Lenore Teversham?”

“She snores.”  Lucy collapsed in a fit of giggles, and any hope of recovery Lenore might have coveted went down in flames.

“Yes, I know.”  Blake rolled his eyes.  “Especially when she is loaded to the gunwales.”

“Enough.”  For Lenore, divulging that secret was too much.  “I was sick and out of my wits.  How could you tell my sister of my accidental inebriation?”

“But there was nothing accidental about it.”  Now Blake bellowed, and she turned on a heel, hoping to take refuge on deck, but he caught her by the arm.  “Oh, no.  Do not run away.”

“Let me go.”  Although she resisted, he pulled her into his waiting embrace with ease.  “You beast.”

“Lucy, I believe I prefer brandy.”  He tightened his hold, even as Lenore trounced his toes.  “There is a bottle in the bottom right corner of my desk.”

“I will be right back.”  Lucilla ran to the door but paused.  “If you are going to fight, will you wait until I return, as I would dearly love to watch?”

“You have my solemn promise.”  Blake chortled, until Lucy shut the door.  Then all hint of humor vanished, and he bent and kissed Lenore.  And kept kissing her.

Searing heat scorched her from top to toe, and soon, she wrapped herself about him, parted her lips in welcome, and came at him with a yearning she could neither interpret nor manage, but she could not help herself.  When he suckled her flesh and groaned, she gasped, came alert, and stumbled backwards.

For several seconds, they simply stood there, breathing heavily and gawking at each other.  Then an obvious revelation occurred to her.

She sighed.  “You did not mean what you said.”

“Well, I was sincere about part of it.”  The naughty grin reappeared with a vengeance.  “You would never make it to the kitchen.”

“Must you always be so impossible?”  And why could she not resist him?

“Lovely Lenore, where you are concerned, I am quite possible.”  To her surprise, he caressed her cheek.  “Now let us revisit our earlier conversation before Lucy returns.  Do we have an agreement?”

Ah, yes.  He wished to explore the realm of courtship, and she knew not whether to welcome or dread the protection he offered.  But Lenore was not alone in her dire plight, and there was her little sister to consider.  Thus far, Blake had been kind and indulgent with Lucy.  He would make an excellent brother-in-law, and that counted in his favor.  And while he possessed other attributes, she remained unprepared to investigate the promise he posed.

With shoulders squared, Lenore lowered her chin.  “We have a bargain, Captain.”

“Wonderful.”  He well nigh pounced on her.  “Then let us seal it with another kiss.”

As he claimed her mouth, she could only pray she made the right decision—and that he had an ample store of rum in the cargo hold.

#

Amid heavy snowfall and a wicked gale, the helmsman maneuvered the
Tristan
into position, as Blake prepared to moor offshore in Ritzebüttel.

The boards were alive with the hustle and bustle one would expect of a ship coming into port, as the crew scrambled into the ratlines, and men of the watch perched in the tops.  When the anchor slipped into the water with a mighty splash, he noted his primary charges huddled at the waist.

“Portman, the deck is yours.”  Securing his many-caped greatcoat, Blake descended the companion ladder.  “Lenore, you look beautiful in your fur-lined pelisse.  And little Lucy, you are absolutely charming in your blue bonnet.”

“Lenny made me wear it, Cap’n.”  The young gadling scrunched her face.  “But I would love to try breeches and boots, which seem a vast deal more practical in this weather.”

“We will make do with what we have, sister.”  Lenore adjusted her tan kid gloves.  “And proper ladies do not wear such things.”

“You had better never let Caroline hear you say that.”  For some reason, an image of Lenore, similarly garbed, formed in his brain, and he made a mental note to commission a special wardrobe upon their return to London.  “As that is her customary fencing attire.”

“She fences?”  With an expression of wonder, Lucy squealed.  “Is that even allowed?”

“Of course, and she parries like a pirate.”  Blake growled with pride as he recalled fond memories.  “Just as I taught her.”

“
Oh
, will you school me, too?”  He could have wagered Lucy would ask that.  “And do you use a real foil?”

“Of course.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please, Lenny.”  With hands clasped beneath her chin, Lucilla pouted.  “Need I point out you are not my mother, and I may do as I wish?”

“But I am your keeper, a responsibility I take seriously.”  Lenore bit her lip and glanced at him.  “And it sounds awfully dangerous.”

“Actually, we use button-tipped weapons, so it is quite harmless.”  The tension about the corners of her eyes conveyed he had not answered as she had hoped.  “But what say I enlist Damian’s aid, and we make it a foursome?”

“He is your brother?”  Lucy tapped her chin and narrowed her stare.

“In every way.”  Blake ushered them to the mainsail hull, where the jolly boat had been lowered.  “Now, over you go, Miss Lucilla.”  After she scampered down the rope ladder, he turned to Lenore.  “Next.”

“Are you sure this is safe?”  With a death grip on his hand, the elder Teversham peered at the small craft bobbing in the current.  “It does not seem too stable, and I cannot swim.”

“What do you mean you cannot swim?”  Bloody hell, he had not foreseen that development.  Given his intent to escort the ladies about town, while the crew unloaded the injured and the dead to their homeland, he had thought only of shielding the women from an unpleasant task.  “Did you never learn?”

“Blake, you make no sense.”  With her face as white as a sheet, Lenore gritted her teeth.  “Had I learned to swim, I would not claim said deficiency, but I am terrified of the sea, a fact you well know.”

“I am sorry, Lenore.”  The strength of her hold underscored the intensity of her fear, which was not lost on him.  Determined to spare her the grim reality of war, as manifested by the casualties, he assessed the situation.  “Do you trust me?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”  She gulped.

“Very funny.”  Backing her to the larboard rail, he clutched her forearms.  “Now I want you to go slow, and take your time.  Step with care, and focus on my voice.”

With a nod, she lowered her slippered foot to the rope ladder, which shifted beneath her weight, and she shrieked.  “
Blake
.”

“It is all right, Lenore.  I have you.”  The raw panic in her gaze, the lines of strain about her eyes, and her now violent trembling tore at his heart.  “I am in your wake, so you need not fret for your person.”

As she descended, he repositioned his support and sidled down with her.  If he went into the drink, he would simply suffer a cold plunge, so he risked the awkward orientation.  At last, she jumped into the jolly boat, and he quickly joined her.  The minute he took his seat, Lenore lunged at him.

“Shh, sweetheart.”  He whispered reassurances, as she clung like a wet blanket.  “I will never let anything harm you.”  To Mr. Hammond, Blake said, “To the docks.”

“Aye, sir.”  The young sailor dipped his chin.

“Can I help, Cap’n?”  As usual, Lucy wanted to try something new.

“Yes, you may.”  Blake eased Lenore closer.  “Hammond, give Miss Teversham an oar.”

While the two were distracted, Blake framed Lenore’s jaw and kissed her.  His aim was simple, as he meant to soothe her frazzled nerves, but instead he set his on edge, as she sank into him and returned the gesture with equal measure.  Molten passion ignited beneath the gentleman’s garb, as the gentle pressure of her fingers to his chest signaled her active participation.

Desire erupted, a brutal torture, burning through his defenses.  Anticipation glimmered, a secondary torment, fueled by the knowledge that she wanted him.  The fever grew, the hunger thrummed, and the longing exploded.  And although he should have satisfied himself with what she offered, he could not resist blazing a trail from her sumptuous lips to the swanlike curve of her neck.  When her breath hitched, in a subtle inhalation that carried on the light breeze, he came alert and drew rein.

Aware of nothing save the repetitive splash of the oars slicing the water, Blake separated from his lady.  Their current location, as they neared the docks, afforded no privacy, and he refused to besmirch, in any way, the reputation of the woman he fully intended to marry.  So he would wait.  He would be patient.  And in the relative isolation of her cabin, he would exact proper payment for the suffering she caused.  However, at that moment, her needs reigned supreme, as evidenced by her whimper of distress.