Captured

by Beverly Jenkins

  “I’m not avoiding her,” he lied.

  “You can tell her that, also.”

  In reality, Dominic was avoiding her and they both knew it. He’d never been around a woman who affected him so intensely. After being with her last night, he figured the best way to deal with the tempting dilemma she presented was to avoid her until they dropped anchor. It wasn’t working because since waking up this morning, his every thought had been tied to her smile, the taste of her mouth, and her soft sighs of pleasure. “Where is she?”

  “Stern rail.”

  “All right, I’ll go speak with her.”

  He never made it to the stern, though, because he found her seated on the deck beside Tait repairing sails. Surprised, he studied her and the men with her. “Clare?”

  She gave him a smile that warmed him through the soles of his boots. “Captain. How are you?”

  “I’m well. May I ask what you’re doing?”

  “Repairing the Marie’s sails.”

  Tait and the others didn’t look up.

  “I see. I’m certain Mr. Tait told you this was not a task for a lady.”

  Clare studied the last few stitches she’d put in, and upon finding them to be sufficient, said, “He did, but I threatened to maroon him if he refused my help.”

  “Really?” Dominic eyed Tait. Although the fiddler had his attention focused on the sail it was obvious that he was also trying to conceal his amusement.

  “So, he had no choice but to agree. Right, Mr. Tait?”

  “Aye, miss.”

  “Well, would you at least sit on a tarp so that you don’t ruin your gown?”

  “Certainly.”

  A tarp was fetched and Clare positioned herself atop it. Once she was settled she looked up into Dominic’s eyes. “Is there anything else, Captain?”

  He wondered when he had lost control of this situation, but since he had no answer, he said, “No. Carry on.”

  She nodded and resumed her task.

  Clare spent the rest of the morning working beside Tait. She enjoyed the company. She took pleasure in the work as well, mainly because it was a chore she’d chosen to do as opposed to being ordered to and having no say. She saw it as yet another boon of the freedom offered onboard the Marie.

  Later, the ship’s bell sounded the midday hour.

  Tait looked her way. “Time to eat. Would you care to join us?”

  “I’d be honored.”

  Tait turned to his mate, a man named Barney. “Would you fetch us our share?”

  Barney was a rail-thin Englishman with three teeth. “Sure.” Flashing Clare a shy grin he hurried off.

  A pair of muscular legs encased in boots, hose, and breeches appeared beside Clare. There was no need for her to look up. She knew who it was. “Captain.”

  “Would you care to share the meal in my cabin?”

  “I just accepted an invitation from Mr. Tait.”

  If he was disappointed he didn’t show it. Instead he bowed. “I’ll let you enjoy yourself then.”

  He strode away.

  Tait eyed her speculatively.

  She met his gaze silently, then turned her attention out to the blue-gray water of the ocean.

  Dominic went down into the hold and found Gaspar and James still working on the inventory. The Marie had preyed upon sixteen enemy ships since setting out for sea last fall. The final accounting of everything from bottles of wine to grain would take some time.

  “Thought you were eating with Clare?” Gaspar asked.

  “Tait asked her first.”

  James hid his smile.

  Dominic took a seat. “Why couldn’t she just be a doxy I met in a tavern?”

  “Because she isn’t.”

  “You’re so astute, Gaspar.”

  “Just stating the obvious.”

  Esteban walked in. Taking in the frustration on Dominic’s face, he asked, “Is the lovely Clare still putting him through his paces?”

  James and Gaspar nodded.

  The Spaniard shook his head. “And that is why it is best to stay away from good women. They leave you hard and frustrated.”

  “I’m hard and frustrated because I don’t want the crew to know I’m making love to her.”

  “You always were noisy. Remember that time in Venice when you—”

  Dominic’s sharp gaze cut him off.

  Esteban replied, “Never mind.”

  Gaspar and James laughed.

  Their captain skewered them with a look. “Aren’t you two supposed to be working?”

  “Aren’t you?” Gaspar tossed back.

  Dominic picked up a nearby crowbar and took out his foul mood on the crates.

  By the second bell of the afternoon, all the sail repairs were done.

  Tait put the needles in a metal snuff tin and said to Clare, “You should probably go back to the captain’s cabin now, miss. Thank you for your help. We accomplished a lot today.”

  Clare agreed and stood. “Thank you for your kindness, gentlemen.”

  They each nodded in reply and she went on her way.

  In the captain’s quarters, she spied a book on the table. On top of the book lay a note upon which her name was penned. The book was John Milton’s Paradise Lost and the note was from Dr. Early. He thought she might like to borrow it to pass the time. Silently blessing him, she settled into one of the chairs and began to read.

  She was midway through the opening verses when a knock sounded on the door.

  “Clare? May I enter?”

  She set the tome aside. “Yes.”

  His entrance set off a familiar rush in her blood, but she did her best not to reveal it. “Good afternoon, Captain.”

  He bowed. “I came to make sure my crew has been treating you well and to see if there is anything you need.”

  “They have, and all needs have been met. How has your day fared so far?”

  “Well. Things would be better if we were dropping anchor but that will come soon enough.”

  “How many more days?”

  “Two at the most.”

  “Good. I’ve never been partial to ships, so it will feel good to be on solid ground once again.”

  “You don’t care for sea travel?”

  She shook her head. “In the past every ship reminded me of the slaver, until this one.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “I’ve had good company and the Marie is not overly uncomfortable. The entire time the Sullivans and I were in England, I was not allowed to leave the ship or go above deck. Violet was afraid if I were seen the British would declare me free.”

  “Because of the Somerset case?”

  “Yes.” Clare had read in one of Teddy Sullivan’s English newspapers about a slave named James Somerset who’d won his freedom back in 1772. The British judge presiding over the case declared slavery to be so odious that not even law could support it. Although the controversial ruling didn’t force slave owners in the colonies or in the British West Indies to free their captives, it did call into question the legality of bringing captives into England.

  “We’ll drop anchor in a few more days,” he told her.

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  In the silence they fed on each other with their eyes. The undisguised desire she saw reflected in his ignited a yearning inside her that was embarrassing because of its strength.

  “I must get back,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you at the evening meal.”

  She nodded and he exited.

  Dominic didn’t want to leave her, but was in a way glad that his captain’s duties made it necessary. When he was with her, she was all he could think about. When he wasn’t with her, she was all he could think about. He didn’t want to study charts, settle disputes, or help catalog all the gold and booty in the hold. All he wanted to do was avail himself of her kisses while holding her in his arms. Soon, he’d be able to spend as much time with her as he craved, but for the present it would be better for the Marie a
nd her crew if he continued to distance himself from the tempting Clare Sullivan.

  As he made his way back down to the hold, he admitted that this constant wanting of her was not something he was accustomed to. In the past, no woman had ever occupied his mind to the point of distraction; women were women. They had their uses, and when he was done he moved on to the next. However, Clare was affecting him like an uncharted sea, and he had no stars to steer by. So far, they’d shared nothing but kisses, which made him wonder how he might be after they shared a bed. It was his hope that once they made love he could shake himself loose of her spell and regain full charge of his faculties, but she was so unlike the women that usually sailed in and out of his life that there was no guarantee.

  At dinner that evening with the captain and his officers, Clare made a point of not focusing on him. By concentrating on the others she hoped to remain unmoved by his presence, but each time she stole a glance his way, his eyes were waiting. In response, her look would go chasing off, but the heat he evoked would remain, a vivid reminder of his power over her newly awakened senses.

  Esteban was recounting the tale of an ancestor who’d been captain of one of the many Spanish ships sacked and plundered by the English privateer Sir Francis Drake on behalf of Queen Elizabeth. “Drake hated Spain and its people,” he said, “but we hated him and the English more.”

  James grinned over his wine, “My ancestors hated them more. Remember Queen Mary of Scots, the sister of Elizabeth? She had her head chopped off.”

  “Which in no way compares with what he stole from the Spanish when he sacked Panama. For example, the one hundred and ninety mules he and his men ambushed carried three hundred pounds of silver each. Add to that fifteen tons of silver ingots, and an additional amount of gold coins said to have equaled one hundred thousand English pounds.”

  Gaspar whistled.

  James said, “Doesn’t equal a queen’s head, my friend.”

  “You’re right. It equals more than a queen’s head. We’ve hated the English for two hundred years.”

  “Everyone hates the English,” Dominic said. “So let’s all agree. You’re boring the lady.”

  “No they’re not. I’m impressed that he can trace his ancestry back two hundred years.” Clare countered, “Were all the men in your family sailors, Mr. da Silva?”

  James cracked, “Only the ones who weren’t pirates.”

  They all laughed including Esteban, who raised his glass to James. “He’s right. I’m hoping to be the first male in my line to die of old age and not by noose.”

  Gaspar raised his glass, “To old age!”

  The rest shouted, “Hear! Hear!”

  After the humorous and vocal toast, Clare had a question, “Are you really allied with the American rebels?”

  The officers turned to Dominic with knowing smiles.

  He shrugged. “When it’s in our best interest. We do have a letter of marque, and we do harass the British, but only if it suits us. We first take care of ourselves and those who depend upon us.”

  “So you are no different than Drake.”

  For a moment he didn’t reply, then said, “I suppose.”

  An awkward silence filled the room, and no one felt it more than she. “My apology. I don’t mean to judge. You all have been sterling gentlemen.”

  Dominic inclined his head. Because of his daylong moodiness, he found her censure grating. “We appreciate your compliment, but we live as we do because the world is neither a fair nor a just place, as you well know.”

  Her lips tightened. “Touché, Captain.”

  He inclined his head again and drained his wine. “Gentlemen, we still have much to do before dark. Let’s leave Clare to her reading.”

  They all bowed her way and exited. No one looked back.

  On their way back to the hold, Gaspar said to Dominic, “You were pretty harsh with her, mon frere.”

  Dominic sighed. “Maybe.”

  James corrected him, “Certainly.”

  Esteban added, “Now, if you do not want her, just say so. The only reason I’ve not swept her off her feet already is out of respect for you.”

  Dominic rolled his eyes. “She thinks we’re thieves and plunderers.”

  “And we’re not?” Gaspar asked. “We have loot from how many ships in our hold? None of it was given to us out of charity. We stole it.”

  James said, “In much the same way you stole her.”

  “Thank you for the reminder. Would you all feel better if I apologized?”

  “Yes,” they said in unison.

  He sighed again. “Fine. I will apologize. Who knew a woman could divide us.”

  Gaspar tossed back, “Who knew we’d meet a woman like Clare.”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the fiddler, Pierre Tait. “Captain, I have composed an ode to Miss Clare. Do you think she would care to hear it?”

  “An ode?” Dominic wondered if the irritation he felt towards Tait was jealousy.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Esteban chuckled. “Add one more man to the crew of the Lady Clare.”

  Tait inclined his head.

  Dominic said to him, “Give me time to catch up with the inventory here, and I’ll go ask her.”

  “Aye.”

  “An ode?” Clare asked, confusion in her face. “To me?”

  “You’re the only Clare on board,” Dominic told her. “He’d like for you to come up and listen.”

  Clare was astounded by the tribute. Never in her life had she imagined there’d be a musical composition dedicated to her, a slave woman. “I’d be honored.”

  “Before we go, I’d like to apologize for my harsh remark earlier.”

  “Only if I may offer one in exchange for my judgmental reply.”

  “I am what I am, petite.”

  “I know, and I have not suffered under your care in any way.”

  Dominic knew his reply had been out of proportion but he had no idea why he’d responded the way he had, other than his surly mood. Was he suddenly ashamed of how he lived his life? Did he wish to be seen differently through her eyes? “My crew is very taken with you.”

  “And I with them.”

  Dominic found himself bewitched by all that she was. From her short-cut hair to her small stature and regal bearing, she was nothing like the women who usually drew his eye. “Come. If I stand here a moment longer I’ll be kissing you, and Tait’s ode be damned.”

  In response, she lowered her eyes away from his smoldering gaze, but it was that unexpected innocence that she exuded that fed his desire as well.

  “I’ll get my cloak.”

  Up on deck, the men greeted her with nods. Once everyone was positioned, Tait began. Clare had been expecting a seaman’s tune, a simple, merry piece of music similar to the others she’d heard him play before, but instead he’d composed a slow sweet composition fit for a queen. The pace, the soaring notes, and the sheer expressiveness showed him to be an exquisite musician. “He plays so beautifully,” she whispered to Dominic.

  The music soared, floating on the evening breeze. Everyone standing around listening stared mesmerized as he plied the bow over the strings with grace and skill. As the tune came to its end, enthusiastic applause and whistles of appreciation filled the deck.

  Holding his instrument, Tait looked embarrassed by the praise. After bowing graciously in Clare’s direction, he and his fiddle departed. The rest of the crew slowly peeled away until Clare and Dominic were left standing alone.

  Dusk had fallen, and the Marie’s bell sounded to give the time and the shift change. Clare looked out over the horizon where the darkening sky met the sea and knew this was an experience she would never forget. Who knew she would take part in a voyage as memorable as the slaver that took her from Africa, but in an entirely different and wonderful way. “I’ll always remember this, Captain.”

  “As will I.”

  Her awareness of him flared. She directed her attention back to the dark sky and
saw the first star peek out. Other small twinkles joined it and glittered overhead.

  “If I were home, I’d be fetching Violet’s nightclothes and slippers, or maybe building the fire in her bedroom grate, or bringing her warm cocoa so she’d sleep. I would never be allowed to simply stand in the dark and watch the stars.”

  “To be able to take a moment and visually enjoy God’s creation without the fear of reprisal is one of the small treasures of freedom.”

  “So I am learning,” she said, turning back to him.

  “Would you like to have a picnic under the moon?”

  The low-toned question made her glitter like the stars.

  “Then take a stroll down the beach hand in hand?” He reached out and dragged a slow finger down her cheek.

  The contact was dizzying. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I’ll feed you mangoes and guavas, and place blooms behind your ear that are more fragrant than any perfume. You won’t have to worry about fetching slippers or fires or cocoa unless it is for your own benefit.” And then, tossing away his vow to distance himself, he gently raised her chin and stared down into her shadow-shrouded face. He didn’t need light to know how beautiful she was. Her features had burned themselves into his mind, and because they had, he kissed the mouth that fit so perfectly against his own, then languidly drew back to press his lips against her eyes, her brow, the lobe of her ear, then recaptured her mouth. “I can’t wait to get you home,” he breathed. She was as sweet as the warm evening breeze.

  Clare couldn’t wait, either. Although her experience with men could fit inside a thimble, she knew he would teach her all she would need, and she planned to be a diligent student. As now. With each passing moment she grew bolder and moved her mouth temptingly over his. He gathered her in, deepening the kiss, and a soft moan slid from her in response.

  Somewhere from behind them, someone loudly cleared his throat.

  Dominic lifted his head, “What?”

  Gaspar turned his back to spare Clare any embarrassment. “It’s time for the disciplinary hearing. The men are waiting.”

  Dominic sighed with frustration, while beside him Clare fought to find her way out of the fog of desire. “Let me escort Clare back to my quarters and I’ll be right there.”