“Fine.” Rupert dropped the hat and mask on his bed, then rummaged through a dresser for a clean scarf.
“We’ve moved out to sea, circling close to Danport to keep an eye out for pirates,” Stefan said.
“Good.” Rupert wadded up the new scarf in his hand and threw it on his bed.
Stefan’s eyes narrowed. “Is something bothering you?”
“No, of course not.” Rupert peered out the doorway to see if Jeffrey was returning yet. No sign of him.
“Expecting someone?” Stefan asked.
“No.” Rupert noticed the dubious look on his friend’s face. He wasn’t fooling Stefan. “I’m expecting a reply.” He gritted his teeth. “She refused to have dinner with me.”
Stefan sighed. “I know the feeling.”
The door to the ladies’ cabin opened and Jeffrey came out.
“What took so long?” Rupert demanded.
Jeffrey winced. “I had to fetch her a quill and ink.” He handed Rupert a sheet of paper.
He unfolded it. It was the same paper he’d written on.
It is imperative that we talk. I thought you wanted to be in control of your own destiny. What happened to that?
And underneath his words, she’d written:
I was in control until you stopped me. Take me to Ebton, and I will convince King Leofric that you are harmless, so he need not hunt you down in the future to destroy you.
Rupert scoffed. Was she threatening him? And since when was he harmless? He was the most powerful man on the ocean. He strode to his worktable and wrote another message beneath.
Whether you wish to make a deal or issue useless threats, you should have the courage to do it to my face.
He marched back to the door and shoved the folded note into Jeffrey’s hands. “Give her that!”
“Aye, Admiral.” The boy walked slowly back to the ladies’ cabin.
Stefan arched a brow. “Are you arguing with her long-distance?”
Rupert clenched his fists. “You’re right. I should go there myself—”
“No.” Stefan planted a hand on Rupert’s chest to keep him from moving. “Nothing will be gained from seeing her in anger. Leave her be.”
“I need to talk to her. I need to explain what her bastard brother is planning to do to her.” Rupert grimaced. “It’s going to upset her. I don’t want to…”
“I know.” Stefan gave him a sympathetic look. “You nearly caused a tornado when you found out. Wait a few hours till you can be calm.”
Rupert took a deep breath. Stefan was right, as usual. Both he and Brigitta were too agitated right now.
Jeffrey exited the ladies’ cabin and trudged toward them. “Here.”
Rupert unfolded the paper as he walked into his room.
A man who hides behind a mask shouldn’t talk about courage.
Damn, she knew how to hit hard. His mouth curled up in a smile. What a strong and fearless woman. She reminded him of the wildcats that roamed the mountains of northern Tourin.
He dipped his quill and wrote:
I will have the courage to show you my face on the quarterdeck tonight. If you have the courage, join me beneath the stars. I will be waiting.
He folded the letter and handed it to Jeffrey. “There is no need for a reply.”
“Thank the Light,” Jeffrey muttered as he headed down the passageway.
“Well?” Stefan asked.
With a sigh, Rupert leaned against the doorframe. “Either she’ll see me tonight. Or she won’t.”
Stefan lowered his voice to a whisper. “Are you falling for her?”
“Don’t be ridic—”
“It’s a legitimate question that could change everything. Are you falling for her?”
“It changes nothing.” Rupert glanced at the ladies’ door as Jeffrey went inside. “No matter how I feel, I dare not trust her.”
Chapter Thirteen
A few hours later, just as Brigitta was finishing her supper, a clap of thunder sounded overhead.
Sister Fallyn dropped her knife and fork with a clatter. “Oh dear goddesses, a storm is coming.”
Brigitta ran to the window and peered outside. Dark clouds were gathering in the sky, blocking out the setting sun. In the dim light, the ocean looked dark and agitated. A few drops of rain blew through the narrow opening to land on her face.
Blast. How could she meet Rupert on the quarterdeck now? Their meeting would have to be postponed.
She winced when a crack of lightning shot through the dark sky. “If this storm moves to the mainland, the lightning will strike Luciana’s husband.”
Sister Fallyn jumped to her feet. “We must pray it doesn’t strike us and set the ship ablaze!” She made the sign of the moons.
“I’m sure we’ll be all right.” The ship rocked suddenly, causing Brigitta to fall onto the window seat.
“We’ll be sick if we eat any more.” Sister Fallyn stumbled toward the bed. “I need to lie down. And pray.”
As the nun crawled under a blanket, Brigitta closed the window and secured the latch. Rain now pattered against the glass at a much faster rate, but at least the rocking of the ship wasn’t too bad. So far.
She’d never been at sea before during a storm. Surely, since Rupert could control the wind, he would keep them safe. It was odd, though, that when the rain had started, her first thought had been that she wouldn’t see him tonight. Instead of feeling concern for their safety, she’d felt disappointment.
A knock sounded at the door, and Jeffrey came in with a lantern. “The captain wanted me to tell you that everything was fine, that you shouldn’t worry.”
Sister Fallyn sat up in bed. “Thank the goddesses.”
“Rupert thought you might want some light.” Jeffrey stood on a chair to latch the handle of the lantern over a large hook in the ceiling.
The lantern swayed with the rocking movement of the ship, and Brigitta realized it was the safest way to keep a lantern from tipping over and starting a fire.
She moved to the table to gather the dishes onto the tray. “Is it possible for Rupert to blow the storm away?”
Jeffrey shrugged. “I suppose he could, but right now he’s happy for the rain. We have all the barrels open to collect water.”
“Oh, I see.”
Jeffrey leaned close and lowered his voice. “Rupert says you should stay belowdecks tonight.”
Brigitta nodded. Their meeting was indeed canceled. Her disappointment was quickly followed by a jab of anger. Why was she letting the man affect her so much?
Jeffrey glanced at the bed, where Sister Fallyn was apparently being rocked fast asleep. “If you want a bed of your own, remember there’s an empty cabin next door.”
“Thank you.” Brigitta held the door open so Jeffrey could leave with the tray.
As the minutes ticked by and Sister Fallyn’s snores grew louder, Brigitta grew restless. She folded the new clothes and stashed them away in the sideboard. Then she took the jar of soap and toothbrush down to the privy, where she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Back in the cabin, she changed into one of the new nightgowns.
What could she do now? There was enough light to read the book Rupert had loaned her. She tensed as she picked the book up, expecting to see a vision. But no images came to mind, only a strong feeling of loneliness. And sadness.
Poor Rupert. He’d lost his parents so violently. Both of her parents were gone, too, but she had no memories of them. She’d heard that her father, Garold, had been killed in battle with the Norveshki, but she had no idea how her mother had died. Her younger brother had been murdered by her older half brother, Gunther, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t even know her little brother’s name.
Since she’d been raised in ignorance of her family, she’d never experienced fear and loneliness like Rupert. She’d grown up in a safe place, surrounded by people who loved her.
As she read the book, she realized it was a different world, an imaginary one filled with mer
maids and sorcerers. Had Rupert’s world been so sad and painful that he used this book to escape? She checked the last page to make sure he had at least been comforted with a happy ending.
No, the mermaid died, and the sorcerer drowned trying to save her.
With tears in her eyes, she closed the book.
I won’t let this happen. She rubbed her weary eyes. I will control my own future. We will have our happy ending.
She sat back. We?
What was she thinking? Did she truly believe that Rupert was her tall and handsome stranger?
She shook her head. She couldn’t sit here all night thinking about him. Why not go to the cabin next door so she could sleep?
She slipped on her cloak, and as the ship rocked, she stumbled into the passageway. Dim light filtered down from the deck, and she noticed the pelican curled up on a dry step of the stairwell. She edged down the passageway, trailing her hand along the wall to keep her balance and search for the next door.
It was farther away than she’d expected, practically at the end of the passageway. When she eased quietly inside, she was surprised by the size of the bed to her left. It was large with a canopy overhead and thick velvet curtains along the head and foot of the bed.
This couldn’t be right.
The room was lit. It was dark and shadowy here beside the bed, but there had to be a lantern somewhere, perhaps on the other side of the bed curtains.
She inched toward the light, then heard a clanking sound, metal striking against more metal. Her heart stilled. This room was occupied.
As she spun back toward the door, the floor creaked beneath her foot.
“Jeffrey, is that you?”
Rupert. She rushed to the door and fumbled with the latch.
“Brigitta?”
She whirled around to find him at the corner of the bed, staring at her. Her heart pounded. His head was uncovered, but it was hard to see the color of his hair in the dim light. It was long, though, down to his shoulders. His shirt was unbuttoned and loose at his sides, leaving his chest bare. Such a broad chest. And what were those ridges on his stomach? Muscles?
A lightning flash suddenly brightened the room, and she gasped. His hair was a light brown, shot through with gleaming gold. Much like the color of his eyes.
He stepped toward her. “Are you all right? Were you worried about the storm?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I-I didn’t know this was yer room. I was searching for the spare bed—I mean, cabin. I thought ye slept on deck.”
“Not when it’s raining.” He shifted his weight and ran a hand through his hair. “So … did you like the gifts?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her cloak more tightly around her. “I’m wearing one of the new nightgowns.”
“I noticed.”
Her face grew hot as she turned her back to him and reached for the latch. “I should be going. ’Tis not proper for me to be here.”
“Who’s going to know?”
A chill skittered down her back. Her grip tightened on the latch, but she didn’t turn it.
“I was working on something. Would you like to see it?”
Blast him. Did he know her weakness was an insatiable curiosity? She glanced over her shoulder. “Ye’re inventing something?”
He nodded and motioned toward the back of the room. “I’m making a windmill. Want to see it?” He walked out of view.
She followed slowly, stopping at the back corner of the bed. So this was his cabin. A long worktable was covered with papers, tools, and metal parts. Paned glass windows stretched along the upper half of the back wall. The bottom half was filled with dressers and bookcases. Another large window ran across the side of the room. Beneath it was a long window seat, padded with blue velvet cushions that matched the curtains around his bed.
He stopped in front of his latest invention and gave the blades a whirl. “I’m going to install it at the top of the foremast. The plan is to transfer the power of the wind to a machine.”
She stepped closer. “What kind of machine?”
He shrugged, bringing her attention back to his broad shoulders. “I’m not sure yet. I’m considering a machine that could wash dirty clothes.”
She snorted, then covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
He gave her an annoyed look. “It could also do sheets and towels.”
A chuckle escaped her mouth.
He arched a brow. “You find it amusing that I run a clean ship?”
“I didn’t realize pirates could be so tidy.” She grinned. “I thought you were planning some sort of awesome war machine, a powerful weapon that would strike terror into the hearts of yer enemies.”
“I don’t need a weapon for that. I am the weapon.”
Her breath caught. Good goddesses, he looked like a weapon. But she shouldn’t let him intimidate her. She affected a shudder. “Oh, I’m scared.”
He took a step toward her, his eyes gleaming. “You should be.”
She moved back. “Aye, the tidy pirate might capture me and wash my clothes.”
His mouth twitched. “I’d have to remove them first.”
Another flash of lightning lit the room. The air between them felt charged, as if some sort of energy was sizzling between them.
“I should be going.” She turned toward the door.
“Why do you react so badly whenever we touch?”
She halted with a jerk. “I-I don’t know what ye’re—” When he grabbed her arm, a shock went through her. A surge of grief and despair so overwhelming, it made her knees buckle.
“Brigitta! Dammit.” He swept her up in his arms.
She was in another place. A dark room. Chilly and dank. A cellar? She was trapped there with a young Rupert, trapped in his mind, living his terror. It was cold, but he didn’t dare light a fire, for someone might discover him and turn him over to the soldiers who hunted him day and night. It was dark but he didn’t dare use a candle, for someone might notice the light through the window.
So afraid. So bereft. So lonely. It made her heart ache for him.
Rupert, how did ye survive?
“Brigitta,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
Her eyes flickered open. Goodness, she was lying on his bed. Had he put her here?
He was standing next to the bed, frowning. “What is it that I’m doing to you? How can I make it stop?”
“’Tis nothing. I’m fine.” She scrambled out of bed and lunged toward the door.
“You’re not fine.” He slammed a hand against the door to keep her from opening it. “Tell me!” When she didn’t answer, he planted his other hand on the door with her trapped in between. “I can touch other women without harming them, so why do—”
“Then touch them.” She turned to glare at him.
“I don’t want to.” He moved closer till their bodies were a few inches apart. “What happens when we touch? Does it cause you pain?”
She shook her head. The pain was all his.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes met his, and the intensity of his gaze took her breath away.
“I want to touch you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth for a few heated seconds before returning to her eyes. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
He was the one who was hurting. Lonely and bereft. Her heart filled with a need to comfort him, to hold him and tell the young boy inside him that he wasn’t alone.
“May I touch you?”
She nodded, then braced herself mentally for another vision. But when his fingertips stroked her cheek, she saw nothing. She stared him, surprised for a moment, then a wave of emotion hit her so hard, it flattened her against the door.
Yearning. He wanted her.
She inhaled sharply as her heart lurched into a rapid pace. This was no young boy in need of comfort. This was a powerful, grown man, and he wanted her something fierce.
His eyes narrowed. “You felt something. What was it?”
She turned her face away. �
��Nothing.”
“Brigitta.” His fingers skimmed down her neck to her shoulder as he leaned toward her. The tip of his nose brushed across her cheek, and she felt his warm breath and the slightest touch of his lips. He paused by her ear and whispered, “You’re lying.”
She planted her hands on his chest and pushed. He stepped back, taking her hands and moving them beneath his shirt so she was touching his bare skin. His eyes burned an amber gold, and his heart pounded against the palm of her hand.
She swallowed hard. “I’ll tell you my secrets, if ye will tell me yers.”
His mouth thinned. “I have nothing to tell.”
“Rupert.” She repeated the words he’d used. “Ye’re lying.”
He squeezed her hands. “Then we’ve both been caught.”
They stared at each other for a few sad seconds, then he released her and stepped back. “I’ll fetch a lantern and take you to the spare cabin.”
She slipped into the dark passageway and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Good goddesses, now she knew how much he wanted her. But she didn’t dare give in to her own feelings of attraction. How could she, when he didn’t trust her enough to tell her his secrets? And she didn’t trust him enough, either.
She glanced back to see him coming toward her, holding a lantern in one hand while stuffing a paper into a pocket of his breeches with the other.
“This way.” He led her down the passageway.
“I thought the spare room was supposed to be next door to us.”
“It is.” He glanced at her with a smile. “On the other side.”
“Oh.” She followed him into the second guest cabin. It was smaller than the one she and Sister Fallyn had been using. Other than the narrow bed, the only other furniture was a table and two chairs.
“I’ll leave you this.” He reached up to hang the lantern on a hook in the ceiling.
“Thank you.” The room grew quiet except for the pattering of rain against the small window. She adjusted her grip on the edges of her cloak to keep her nightgown from showing. Why wasn’t he leaving? He was scowling at the floor, seemingly lost in thought.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. Had he reconsidered and decided to divulge his secrets?
So I Married a Sorcerer Page 16