The Count’s Castaway

by Wynne, Aubrey

  Chapter Six

  A Storm in a Teacup

  The captain was a man of his word. Each night, they sat side by side and read a passage. Her embarrassment eased as his patience and praise boosted her confidence. He helped her to sound out difficult words and explained the meaning of new vocabulary. Sometimes they read out loud together, other times they took turns, and often she recited by herself. Katie learned to laugh at her mistakes; Zander never made her feel self-conscious. She had a knack for penmanship, her handwriting flowing and graceful.

  They fell into a comfortable routine over the next few weeks. Zander dressed and was out of the cabin before she woke. Rory appeared shortly after, with breakfast and Stormy, the cat. He regaled her with stories he’d heard from the other seamen, pausing when he came to an inappropriate scene or comment to adapt it for female company. By afternoon, Patch or Seamus delivered any mending that needed to be done. In between visits and needlework, she practiced reading, and writing, and waiting. Oh, how she looked forward to the evenings. Oh, how the daytime hours crawled by.

  They shared meals, conversations, and laughter. She often caught him studying her while she studied a passage. Their fingers would brush, or shoulders touch, or knees bump. At first, they both uttered rushed apologies. As time passed, the accidental touches elicited covert glances and secret smiles. Her pulse raced from a sultry look or quirk of his mouth; the flick of an eyebrow or his voice close to her ear sent a bolt of yearning to her core. Katie was smitten—and disappointed he had not attempted to kiss her again. She understood, but longed to explore these new sensations plundering her body.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall. Zander! Her hands flew to her hair, tugging at the tresses to curl around her face. The key grated in the lock, and he stepped through the doorway, filling the room with his presence. Zander didn’t need to say anything when he entered a space; he commanded notice. Perhaps all captains had such ability, but she doubted it. Although, he no longer resembled the formal captain she had first met. Once the ship sailed, he had exchanged his English finery for the loose trousers of the seamen, a linen shirt, and vest.

  As he strode toward her, heat rippled over her skin. Katie had assumed her reaction to him would diminish as the days passed, but her heart raced whenever she saw him.

  Every. Single. Time.

  Tonight, she didn’t even pretend to be engrossed in a book. His smile filled her with joy and sent the wings beating against her stomach. His raven hair, tangled from the wind, beckoned her fingers to comb through the waves.

  “I’m afraid you’ll earn you keep tonight. My shirt needs mending.” He strode into the cabin, pulling off his vest. “Ripped my sleeve up to the elbow. Can you salvage it?”

  “Let me see. A straight slash isn’t difficult. It’s the three-corner tear that takes time.” She breathed in his scent, the masculine smell of salt and sweat and Zander, and tried to concentrate on the soft linen as her fingers examined the damage. “This won’t take long. Why don’t you take it off, and I’ll work while you read to me?”

  Zander dropped the vest on the chair beside her and pulled the shirt over his head, dropping it in her lap. “I’ll get your sewing basket.”

  Katy swallowed. She’d often worked side by side with a shirtless Rory, but this was… different. So very different. Her eyes skimmed over his broad, tanned shoulders and powerful arms. There was a scar running across his left ribs, and she bit back the question that leapt to mind. Dark tight curls made a shadowy V from the middle of his wide chest, down his muscled abdomen, and disappeared beneath the band of his bleached trousers. Her fingers curled as she wondered if the hair would be soft or—

  He plopped the basket in front of her, and she blinked. His grin was maddening. It said, I know what you’re thinking.

  His deep, rich laugh broke the spell. The giggles bubbled up her throat, turning into a hoot, then an indelicate snort. Katie covered her mouth and nose with one hand, eyes wide. Then the laughter began again. As she drew in a ragged breath, her head came up, and they locked eyes. Her chest heaved, unable to look away, unable to move at all as his hand came up and his knuckles ran down the length of her cheek.

  “Thank you,” he murmured, his midnight orbs glittering as they raked over her.

  “Your welcome,” she whispered back.

  Zander cleared his throat, then walked over to the wash stand and poured out some water. Katie sat with her palm cupping the warmth his fingers had left on her skin. She watched his back, how the muscles rippled as he moved. Another scar, or perhaps a continuation of the first? Her eyes drifted down to his backside, the loose trousers forming around his tight buttocks when he bent to splash his face and hair.

  God in heaven! He was perfect. She wiped sweaty palms against her own trousers and attempted to focus on her task. Thoughts raced through her mind to the tempo of her thrumming heart. Choosing the pale thread, she busied herself with the needle, making quick work of the tear.

  She heard the wardrobe open, then his bare feet appeared in her line of vision. He sat down next to her in a fresh shirt, open at the neck, droplets of water clinging to his black hair and glistening across his shadowed jaws. His long, tapered fingers rubbed across the stubble.

  “I need a shave, but truth be told, I’d rather sit here and look at you.” His deep voice rumbled through her, and she looked up. “My men think I’m busy plotting our next voyage and taking bets on where we might be headed next. They’re not used to the captain spending so much time in his quarters.”

  “Have I caused so much trouble?” she asked, not taking her eyes from the thread and needle.

  “I’m in deep water these days. Female company is not something I’m used to for a… prolonged period of time.” He tipped up her chin and smiled. “I hope I’ve been pleasant company.”

  The touch sent a shiver over her. A look of concern clouded his dark eyes. “Are you cold?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid we’re in the same boat.” Katie giggled at the pun. “My experience with men is limited to taking orders from Mr. MacDonald and conversation with Rory. I cherish our suppertime chats. And you’ve been so good to help me with my learning.”

  “It was all there,” he said, touching a finger to her forehead. “You just needed to brush up on your skills. I enjoy listening to you recite. Your progress has been remarkable.”

  Katie cheeks flamed at the compliment. She bit her lip as his finger trailed down the side of her face, eyes resting on her mouth. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip, pulling the corner gently away from her teeth and stroking the soft skin. Breathe! Her brain screamed as he bent his head. She closed her eyes, the anticipation causing a flutter in her belly.

  A knock at the door interrupted the intimate moment. Katie jumped and poked her finger with the needle. She stuck her finger in her mouth to capture the pearl of blood, grinning at Zander’s mumbled curse.

  “Your meal is served,” announced Rory in a ridiculously formal manner. He placed a tray on the table between them. “We’ve some fine fish stew for your dining pleasure this evening.”

  Katie wiped her finger against the dark breeches she wore, tied off the thread, then handed the shirt back to Zander. “All finished, Captain.”

  “My thanks. Would you care for some wine with your supper?” He took the shirt from her, his hand lingering over hers.

  Her skin tingled. “No, I need a clear head for my numbers. And I wrote the letter if you’d like to read after we eat.” Zander had asked her to write a letter to practice her correspondence skills. She had chosen to write to her grandfather and tell him of her arrival.

  “I’d like that.” He ladled portions of stew for them and poured himself a glass of wine. As they ate, he told her an old pirate story Seamus had shared when they were lads. It was full of sword fights and plunder, dramatic chases and escapes, and a desert island with buried treasure.

  “If you ever give up the sea,” Katie said with a laugh, “you could work in th
e theater. You have a knack for drama.”

  “It’s you, Katie,” he said, the smile falling away. “You bring out a different side of me. A playful side I didn’t know I had.”

  “I’ll take that as another compliment, thank you very much.” She pushed away her bowl and wiped the crumbs from her lap. “Where shall we begin tonight?”

  After an hour of reading, she shared her letter with him. Katie had been apprehensive to share her thoughts out loud, but with Zander’s encouragement, she had managed to recite the words she had labored over most of the afternoon.

  “Dear Grandpapa,

  I am writing to you from a ship’s berth, en route from Boston to London. When you receive this, I shall already be in England and hope to meet with you and my grandmother. We met only once, a long ago night when I was but a child. A night that first brought me great joy, then sorrow when my father broke yet another promise to both of us. Instead of delivering me to your hotel, Papa secured passage for us by signing a contract of indenture. Fate did not allow him to go unpunished, though, and he died on the voyage.

  I will not go into the details of my past seven years until we meet in person. But rest assured, I am safe and long to be with my family. You told me that night that I was to come and live and with you. I realize the offer was extended many years ago, but I hope I am still welcome—”

  Katie’s voice cracked, and she dashed away a tear with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, I’ve read this a dozen times to myself. I’m not prone to tears.”

  “I imagine you’re anxious, and hopeful, and scared. I would be.” He covered her hand with his. “A young girl who grew up with an adopted family, on a journey to a land she barely remembers, to see grandparents she met fleetingly one terrible night, has every right to be a little weepy.”

  She nodded and sniffled. “You don’t think they’ll change their mind when they find out how I’ve survived? I remember how elegant my grandfather was, and I’m naught but a servant.”

  “I have a title and highly doubt many respectable families would welcome me into their drawing rooms. They will not hold the sins of your father against you.” He tapped her nose and winked. “You’re brewing a storm in a teacup. Let’s check your spelling, shall we?”

  Katie wanted to throw her arms around him. If Zander was by her side, she would have the courage to meet them and hold her head high. Would he accompany her, support her? And then what? A stone plummeted in her stomach. Then what?

  “I think you’re ready for ink. I’ll get you set up tomorrow so you have plenty of time to copy this,” he said when they’d finished going over her letter . “Would you like to practice a bit tonight or wait until tomorrow?”

  The moon shone outside the translucent panes. Stars glimmered in the black sky. “Could we go for a walk, instead?” she asked. Zander had outfitted her in one of Seamus’s jackets and caps. If they stayed in the shadows and off the main deck, she was able to take a short stroll in the evening with the captain, when Rory was on watch.

  “Of course.”

  The salty spray was cool on her cheeks, and she breathed in the crisp night air. The deck had been scrubbed and sand spread across it for better footing. Her toe scraped at the light covering. Zander steered them away from a few of the crew on the forecastle having a smoke.

  “We’ve been lucky with weather, haven’t we?” Katie asked, thinking of the horrors she’d heard of sunken ships and entire crews drowned.

  “Don’t bring us bad luck,” he said, “but yes, we’ve been fortunate. Rain but no storms.”

  They stopped and leaned against the bulwark. She peered down into the indigo ocean, wondering what lay in its depths. The sails flapped in the light breeze, and the sound of the waves churned beneath the bows. When she looked up, she caught Zander’s gaze. His dark eyes searched her face, and a finger stroked her cheek. The desire in those midnight orbs took her breath away. He hadn’t forgotten that intimate moment before supper, either.

  “Why must I remain a secret? Surely, your men would respect your authority and not harm me this close to London.” Katie longed to walk the ship and soak in the sunshine. “Between you, Seamus, Rory, and Patch I think I’d be safe enough.”

  Zander let out a long breath. “It’s more complicated than that, as you well know.. I fear your reputation would be damaged. If anyone found out we were sharing a cabin, you would be ruined. There’s also MacDonald. If he figured out how you escaped, I could face a magistrate in London.”

  “I don’t care about my reputation.” Katie chewed her lip, the lie hovering between them. The thought of Zander in prison or hanging because of her…

  “Your grandparents would.” He turned to face, cupping her cheek in his palm. “For all your life experience, you are still so naïve.”

  When he bent his head, she closed her lids. Her palms pushed against his solid chest and found heaven when his lips brushed hers. A whimper escaped her throat as he pulled her into his arms. She’d waited weeks for this. Side by side, their shoulders sometimes touching while they read, his deep voice stirring the wings in her belly. Every day, she’d hoped for this kiss. Every day, she’d been disappointed. Katie had begun to wonder if she’d imagined their first meeting on the dock.

  But it all came rushing back as his tongue swept inside her mouth. His hands slid down her spine, and he pulled her body against his hard desire. She craved to be closer, to melt into him, give back to him some of the pleasure that crashed through her. Her hips tilted up and pressed into his manhood. His moan was a giddy reward. When he buried his face in her hair, his breath hot against her skin, she wanted to cry out with happiness.

  Happiness. That elusive sentiment that now enveloped her as she reveled in his embrace. He kissed her again, and this time her arms went around his collar, and she returned the kiss. Tentatively, her tongue met his, and the pounding of her heart echoed down into her most private places. Then his lips feathered kisses along her neck, and she tipped her head back. The bright stars, resting in the black velvet sky, seemed to glitter just for her.

  When he pushed her away, she reached for him, feeling the chill of his absence.

  “I apologize,” he said curtly. “We must get back.”

  They had returned to the cabin in silence. Katie tried to calm her breathing, but her pulse raced. Had she done something wrong? Why had he stopped?

  Zander locked the door and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Someone could have seen us.”

  Katie gasped. “I didn’t even think—”

  “Neither of us did,” he said sharply, turning his back on her and climbing into the hammock. When he remained silent, Katie went behind her blanket wall and dressed for bed.

  The next morning, Zander had slipped out before she woke. That evening, they’d had supper and continued their routine as if nothing had happened. Their routine resumed over the next few days. Except for the walks. Their evening strolls had come to an end.

  She wondered if their kiss had unnerved him. He was a man of self-restraint. She had caused him to lose control. Or had it been the combination of the physical female at his side and his mistress, the Sea, surrounding him? He’d called her a siren. Was the combination of his first love and their tantalizing kiss too much for him to deny? Katie smiled at that thought. Perhaps Zander was also making a tempest in teapot.

  Chapter Seven

  Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

  One week later

  “It’s your birthday, Seamus?” asked Katie. “We must celebrate.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to do that in my usual fashion,” admitted the quartermaster. “On land, I’d get three sheets to the wind then find me a willing—”

  “I’m sure we could come up with an alternate plan.” Zander sent a warning to his friend.

  “Patch can make a special dinner,” Katie said, warming to the subject, “and we’ll all eat together and play games.”

  “What kind of games?” asked Seamus,
a grin brightening his face.

  “Rory taught me a card game. There is a feather game he mentioned, but I can’t see the rest of you keeping a feather in the air.” She tapped her foot, a finger on her mouth.

  “No, but watching ye show us how it’s done would be a fine birthday.” Seamus snorted at his captain’s glare.

  “Let’s avoid anything that could be considered gambling. What about music? Patch is good on the fiddle, and Seamus is fair with a penny whistle.” Zander wasn’t sure he liked the idea of three other men intruding on his evenings. Though, it might be easier to keep his thoughts from going down the wrong path. “Can you sing, Katie?”

  “I can carry a tune,” she said, her hands clasped in excitement as they made plans. “Would this be my first musicale?”

  “I believe we could consider it as such.” Her enthusiasm and those shining blue eyes chased away any reservation. He wanted to make her this happy every day. Every hour. Instead, he kept his distance, and kept her innocence intact. But tonight, under the guise of a dance, he could hold her close…

  “What say ye, Captain?”

  Zander dragged his eyes from the lovely redhead and nodded. “Inform Patch.”

  “And Rory must come. He has a wonderful voice.” Her tone pleaded; her teeth chewed on the bottom lip that had been begging for a kiss since their last night on deck.

  “Of course.” He raised his brows at Seamus, who nodded. “Until tonight, then.” He bowed over Katie’s hand, ignoring the quartermaster’s cackle at such gallantry.

  When he entered his quarters at the end of a long day, Zander’s mouth fell open. Katie stood by the table, chewing on her lip again, her hands clutching a white skirt with a yellow ribbon tied just beneath the bustline. Tiny yellow flowers were embroidered along the collar, cuffs, and hem. Her hair was pulled up with another yellow ribbon; her ruby ringlets gleamed and curled at her nape.