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The Captain's Lady

Page 8

by Jo Goodman


  She smiled when she saw Landis. “I thought it was you,” she said. She noticed the tray he was carrying. ’“What do you have there?”

  “Your breakfast,” he answered, placing the tray on the table. “The captain thought you might be getting your appetite back. You wouldn’t eat much while you were sick.”

  “Captain Cloud is very thoughtful, Mr. Landis. Will I be able to talk to him soon?”

  “Just John, please. We’re not that formal here. At least not privately. You’ll be able to see the captain as soon as you want.”

  Alexis got off the bunk and sat at the table. She stared at the fresh fruit and realized for the first time how hungry she really was. “This looks very good, John. Will you please ask the captain to join me if he can be spared? I am anxious to talk to him and although I am ravenous, there is much more here than I can possibly eat.”

  “Of course. But who shall I say you are? You never told me your name.”

  Alexis sliced the orange in front of her and brought a section to her lips. Before she put it in her mouth she looked up at the officer, the merest smile forming on her lips. “Please tell Captain Cloud that Alex Danty would like to see him.” She chewed on the juicy section of orange while she watched Landis chew on that information. Quinton was a name that belonged to her life in the crow’s nest. It was the Danty name that had gotten her to Tortola and the Danty name would return her to it. It was the misnomer that had carried her from London, and now it would take her to Travers. “I’ll explain everything to Captain Cloud,” she said when Landis only stood there, pulling at his beard.

  He nodded thoughtfully and left the room. Alexis ate slowly, savoring the taste of everything on her plate, setting some aside for the captain. She was wiping her mouth when she heard the door open.

  Cloud shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “John said you wanted to see me.”

  “I didn’t command it,” she said. “You make it sound as if I had.”

  Cloud did not comment. Should he tell her that even her requests had an edge of authority according to Landis? He had been warned what to expect from her. “You probably have questions just as I do,” he said after a brief pause.

  Alexis tried to dismiss his physical appearance from her mind. She remembered she had thought him attractive last night, but now, in the light of day, he was striking. He belonged on this ship. His features were distinctive and well formed. She could imagine him cutting through the waves with the same ease as the vessel he commanded. There was pride and a subtle hauteur in his stride as he walked over to the chair at her side. She shut her eyes a moment, not wanting to stare at him and perhaps frighten him away as Francine insisted she always had. She opened them suddenly when she realized this was the man who would not be put off by her looks. She was glad. She had found someone she could respect. He would take her back.

  “I do have some questions, Captain Cloud,” she said when he was seated comfortably across the table from her. “Who shall go first? It is your ship.”

  “Then I will,” he replied, slicing an orange Alexis left for him. “Your name, first of all. We were under the impression, because you were on the hill, that you must be George Quinton’s daughter. Now it appears you are not.”

  “I was George and Francine’s daughter in every way but one, Captain. I am not their blood. I lived with the Quinton’s for six years, from the time I was thirteen. They were very dear to me.”

  Cloud could not help staring at her as she spoke. Her voice had no inflection in it and her eyes were expressionless. She might as well have been talking about the weather instead of the people she thought of as her parents. He did not want a hysterical female on his hands, but neither was he prepared for her total lack of emotion after all she had been through. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he asked his next question.

  “The other man, the one you tried to—”

  “That was Pauley Andrews,” she replied. “He was the man who brought me to George and Francine. The day I came to them we celebrated in later years as an anniversary.” Her voice broke and she glanced away from the captain, cursing her lack of control. “That morning was the first time I had seen Pauley since he took me to Tortola. By afternoon—” She stopped, blinking back tears.

  Cloud’s face was grave as she talked. He thought back to the girl on the beach and the man who approached her. He remembered thinking then that she was in love with him. It was strange to find out the man was not her husband, but that love would have been expressed in an entirely different manner. “You don’t have to tell me anymore,” he said as he watched her struggling for composure. He felt a great deal of respect for her as she battled all the emotions welling up inside her. When she faced him again, her eyes were clear and almost vacant, as if the light inside them had been snuffed. Her features were as placid as a calm sea. Her mouth, nose, cheeks, and brows simply existed on her face, without reflecting any of her turmoil. They were like ornaments now, pleasant to look upon but without expression. He thought he understood her desire for control. He was not moved by crying, irrational females. And yet, if she were to break down completely, he would hold her and not care that she cried. He understood what would be behind the emotions and so did she. That made the difference.

  “I would like to finish, if you don’t mind,” she said quietly and continued before he had a chance to object. “The day Captain Travers came to my home was my anniversary. George left work early so he could be with Francine and me. The servants were given a holiday so we could celebrate alone. That is the way we preferred it. Pauley arrived quite by accident. He promised to visit me whenever his ship came near the island. This was the first opportunity he had. I don’t know how much you saw of what happened, but you know they were all murdered. That is all you have to know. Do you have any more questions?”

  “None that can’t wait. But you must have some.”

  “I would like to know where I am.”

  He smiled. “You are on board the USS Hamilton. A naval vessel. We are currently headed for Washington and we should be there within a few weeks. I trust that is satisfactory.”

  Alexis glared at him while her fingers clenched the knife she had used to peel her orange. “It is not satisfactory, Captain.” She raised the hand holding the knife slowly. Cloud did not blink an eye. She twisted suddenly and with a quick snap of her wrist she hurled the knife at the cabin door. It struck a knothole she had targeted dead center.

  “Do all island girls learn that skill?” he asked, unmoved.

  “No. Pauley taught me.” She waited to see if he was going to say anything else but he remained silent, totally composed, his green eyes meeting her gaze solidly. “You had no right to take me off the island, Cloud.” She dropped his title to see if he would care. He didn’t. In fact, she thought she detected a slight curving of his lips. It infuriated her. “I have things to do there. I do not want to go to the United States.” If only Pauley could have heard her say that. “You must turn this ship around and take me back.”

  “Must I, Miss Danty?” His tone was one of amusement but it was forced. Landis had been right. She’d meant what she said on the hill and she was still determined to go through with it. Somehow it pleased him, though he didn’t dare say so aloud.

  “Alex. As in Alexis. And yes, you must. You had no right to make a decision for me that wasn’t yours to make. I am asking you to rectify your mistake and take me home.”

  “I wasn’t aware you were asking me to do anything.” Alex. He liked that. It suited her. “I have heard nothing but demands. Actually you sound quite ungrateful.”

  “I cannot be grateful to you for saving my life if you will not allow me to live it.”

  “But I am giving you a chance to live it,” he said patiently. “There is nothing left for you on Tortola. If you go back there and try to carry out your revenge you will die. I will not be responsible for that.”

  “I was not aware my life, and therefore my death, was your responsibility.
It is my decision. I am the one who will bear the results of it, not you. It is not your plan, but mine, that must be followed through. What is there for me in Washington? What is there for me anywhere in the United States now for that matter? The answer is nothing. My reason for living is somewhere on this ocean—probably in Antigua by now—and I will find him.”

  “And if you fail?”

  “I won’t.”

  “All right. And if you succeed? What then, if vengeance is your only reason to live?”

  “Quinton Shipping,” she replied, taking satisfaction in the way his eyebrows lifted slightly. It was a questioning look, not one of disbelief. “George taught me everything there was to know. After I kill Travers I will go back to Roadtown and rebuild the shipping line. It would have been mine one day. Now it’s mine sooner than I expected and certainly not the way I wanted it.”

  “You seem to have answers for everything, Alex,” he said, dropping another section of fruit into his mouth.

  “Almost everything,” she responded quickly. “I don’t know why you brought me with you.”

  “You needed medical attention. John has had some experience dealing with lashings worse than yours. I trusted him to help you.” Cloud struggled to keep his gaze focused on hers. What he said was true, but it was not the entire truth. She would know that if he turned away. He thought she probably knew already. She was not a person one could hide things from.

  “You could have left me at the settlement. There are people there who would have helped me. My friends, my father’s associates, or someone who worked for him would have cared for me.”

  “You should have a real doctor, not some old woman with herbs and incantations,” he said patiently. “You can get proper care in Washington.”

  “I am doing just fine without a doctor. Tortola is not uncivilized. I would have had good care there.” She stopped. It was obvious he was not going to tell her the real reason he had taken her away; suddenly she decided she did not want to know. And she could not ask him why he did not want to take her back since that was tied to the reason she was here now. There must be another way to make him understand she could not go any further with him.

  “Cloud. I am a wealthy woman. The British may have taken some of my ships but they did not take everything. There are still Quinton vessels on cargo routes, and there is probably enough money in the office for me to start rebuilding soon. Our house was not as large as some of the planters’ homes. We lived simply in comparison to most of them, but that was by personal choice, not by necessity. I can pay you and your crew a great deal of money if you will return me to my home.”

  Cloud stood up, picking up his own knife. With a dexterity matching Alexis’s he threw the knife at the door. It stuck in the wood only a few inches from hers. “No,” he answered firmly. “I do not want your money and neither do my men.”

  Alexis pushed her chair back and got to her feet. A sudden pain shot up her back and she tried not to let him see it. She gripped the edge of the table tightly. “Then what do you want, damn you?” The words were not said angrily, rather frustratedly, despairingly. She could not understand why he was refusing her.

  “I want what is best for you.”

  She wavered slightly. The pain and his words were too much. She steadied herself when she saw him take a step toward her, waving him aside with her hand. “No. I will be fine in a moment.” She waited and it passed. She walked over to the bunk and sat on the edge, hiding her bare feet under it. “You cannot possibly know what is best for me. You tried to decide that once and you failed miserably. I can tell you what is best. I have several times already, but you don’t seem to think I am capable of reasoning for myself.”

  “After all you’ve been through I doubt you are really capable, that’s true.”

  Alexis laughed bitterly. “I thought you would understand,” she said through her laughter. “I thought if I explained what I wanted without tears and apologies you would see that I do know exactly what I want.” She stopped laughing. It was time to make him say why she was here. It could be her link to freedom. She hated using herself to bargain. It was a horrible price to pay, especially to a man she was not sure she liked anymore. She thought she could actually hate him, and that was strange because she was not even certain she hated Travers. Travers was not worthy of her hate. At the moment she simply did not care about him. That was why it was going to be so easy to take his life. Indifference was a potent weapon.

  Cloud could not fathom her change in moods. She had stopped laughing as suddenly as she’d started. He did not like his loss of control when she tried to bribe him with her money. Didn’t she realize what she wanted to do was madness? He could not go along with it. If she thought he would not be held responsible for her death she was wrong. He wished he had not said she wasn’t capable of knowing her own mind because he truly thought she was. But that was because he had met her. He had seen what she was like. Who else, not knowing her, would believe a nineteen-year-old girl—woman, he corrected himself—would want to take on such responsibility? He eyed her carefully as she stood and leaned against one of the posts of his bunk. She looked like a waif in her strange outfit. Her petticoat was too short, his shirt too big, and yet none of it detracted from her beauty. Her hands went behind her back and she held on to the post. She rubbed one of her slim legs lazily against the other. He thought if she were anyone else he would not tolerate the unhurried seduction another moment. He held his breath for a second. He knew what was coming. He did not know if he would be able to hold his temper as easily.

  Alexis smiled slowly at Cloud. She hoped it was not an innocent smile. That would not do at all. She tried to picture Francine and the way she had looked at George when she wanted something. It didn’t always work and Alexis thought the deception was unnecessary, but Francine assured her George was well aware of the game and he only gave in when it suited. Alexis did not think the captain was one to play games.

  “I think you desire me, don’t you, Cloud?” Dammit. That was not something Francine would have said. She wished she had paid closer attention. Francine said she was too blunt, too direct. Alexis was relieved when the captain did not.

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.” He fought the smile that was trying to force its way to his lips. Even in her seduction she was cool and determined. It was refreshing because it was so unusual.

  “And you would like to take me to bed, wouldn’t you?” She tried to keep her voice even, but she lowered it to give the effect of self-assurance she did not have. Emerald eyes stared back at her.

  “Yes. Very much.” Cloud wondered if she could fully appreciate what his honesty was costing him. He wanted her more than she could possibly realize, but he would not allow her to use herself as a bribe. And he knew that was her next move. He tensed, trying to gain some control before she went on.

  “Then I will allow you to take me to bed if you will return me to Tortola.”

  He could not hide his surprise. He had not expected to be propositioned in quite that manner. He thought she would lie and say she wanted it as much as he. He thought she would say something about how she had hoped to get him into bed from the moment she had first seen him. He could have despised her for that. But for this he could not even be angry.

  “You will allow me, Alex?” he asked.

  Uneasy now, she nevertheless held her ground. “That’s what I said.”

  He stepped closer to her. He could reach out and touch her now, he thought. He could take her in his arms if he wanted, and she would not be able to stop him. He could force her into his bed; she would be powerless to prevent it. “I could take you if I wanted, Alex, whether you permitted it or not.” He saw her eyebrows lift in astonishment. “You hadn’t considered that, had you?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Turn your ship around.”

  He laughed, turning his back on her and headed for the door. He opened it, but before he walked o
ut, he said, “I’m going on deck to give the order. When I get back I expect to find you in that bed and prepared to back up your statement. Do you understand?” He smiled at her when she nodded her head and then walked out.

  Once on deck he gave the command for the ship to make a slow circle. His men scratched their heads but no one said anything to him. Even Landis remained quiet. Cloud hoped he was right about her. What she had proposed as a test for him was also a test for her.

  He waited until the Hamilton had started its slow revolution then he returned to his cabin. Alexis was standing exactly where he had left her. She did not seem to have moved a muscle.

  She waited until he stood directly in front of her before she spoke. He did not appear to be angry with her. Instead she thought he looked pleased. “I couldn’t do it.”

  “I know. I was counting on it.”

  “But the ship,” she stammered. “I can feel it changing direction.”

  “A circle. I never intended to do what you suggested. I didn’t think you could either. I had to make sure you knew it too. I’m glad I was right.”

  Alexis was confused, and it showed before she put it into words. “You’re glad? But I thought—I mean, you answered my questions. You don’t want me?” She finally got it out.

  Cloud put his hands on her shoulders and drew her toward him, halting his protective gesture before their bodies touched. He placed one hand under her chin and lifted her face so he could stare down into the bewildered amber eyes. “I did not lie to you, Alex. You’re lovely and I do want to take you to bed. But not in trade. Not as a bribe. Not when the thing you ask for in return is something I can’t give you and still be able to live with myself. I want you. But not on the terms you set.”

  “There are no other terms, Cloud.”

  “Not now, perhaps. But later. When we reach Washington.”

  “When we get to Washington it will be too late for either of us. I will hate you for blocking my way.” She paused, watching his lips close tightly. She could feel his anger in the increased pressure his one hand placed upon her shoulder while the other pressed harder against her jaw. She refused to be intimidated by his fury or his show of strength. “Then I am to be your prisoner until we reach Washington. Is that what you intended?”

 

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