"I didn't accuse him of anything."
She stopped, forcing him to turn toward her. "If you have something to say about my steward, please say it openly."
"I didn't say anything. He seems a fine man." Hal shrugged as though unsure of what to say. "I'm just wondering about the identity of the man in black. If he could be your steward."
"What?" That he could even propose such a thing astounded her. "No, I assure you, the man who wants me dead is not FitzWilliam."
"Why?"
"It's simply not possible. How could I trust everything to him if there were the least doubt?"
"You said your father left things to FitzWilliam. Now you inherit and keep him on a tighter leash. Couldn't he feel frustrated, angry? Wouldn't your cousin be more manageable?"
"I suppose Geoffrey would be content to allow FitzWilliam complete control, but..."
"In my mind FitzWilliam is a suspect."
"Well, thank God you are not a sheriff. You'd have the poor man arrested and hanged before you could find out the truth. Need I remind you, sir, of your own recent troubles and how quickly people can make assumptions."
"Countess, if I'd been the sheriff in Lancaster, I'd have hauled myself off to jail."
"Well, I'm certain of my steward, Captain. So, please let's change the subject." She turned and walked away.
* * * *
Hal let the subject drop for now, even though his mind had been churning with possibilities ever since they'd left port.
There was someone, someone who had paid for Elspeth's permanent removal from England. If not for the muddy waters of the original deal for her murder, Hal would have been more certain of the steward's guilt. But there were others who could profit more directly from her death. The cousin for one. Perhaps he wasn't the fool he appeared. Even Alex March's desire that his brother have no children could be a reason for wanting Elspeth dead, though a crazy one. There were probably others he didn't even know about.
His eyes sought her out. She stood by the rail, gazing out over the ocean. A smile played over her lips. Her bosom swelled and sank as she breathed deeply of the salty air. If he could draw, he would put this vision to paper, to be brought out in the future, long after he'd taken her home, a torture and a solace.
Why couldn't she be a shopgirl or a milkmaid or a farmer's daughter? Why did he have to fall in love with a countess?
He swiped his hand across his eyes. Love? No, surely not. Lust, certainly. But not love.
Reason told him he couldn't have her, so it was stupid to pine for her. She was a noble lady and he was a half-breed. There could be no future for them. He almost laughed at the thought-as if she would have him.
It would be best to put distance between them as soon as they made Jamaica. Though sooner would be better.
* * * *
"It grows late," he said. "Perhaps you should retire now."
Elspeth heard a difference in his tone. He was no longer the charming captain. It was almost as though he'd closed a curtain, shutting himself off from the rest of the world.
From her.
"You are right. I am tired."
"I'll send Cole with some tea for you."
So she was to return to her cabin alone. Somehow she'd thought he would accompany her and they could talk for a while.
Silly girl. He must have duties to attend to. He certainly seemed disinclined to speak further.
Perhaps she had bored him.
"Good night, Hal."
She waited only a moment for a reply, but, getting none, she turned and left him alone on the deck. At the stairs she hazarded one glance at him.
He'd turned away and stared out to sea. She had the impression he spent much time thus, alone, with his own thoughts.
Taking the stairs downward, she remembered his words about his hatred for Richard.
He hurt someone dear to me.
Was he thinking of her now? Who was the woman who still held his heart? She wondered at the power of such a feeling that would drive a man to piracy and a life of revenge. What kind of woman could inspire such loyalty? Had she returned his love?
When he had his revenge, would he find peace?
The questions ran through her head as she pulled the green bodice over her head and untied the skirt's tapes and let it fall to the floor.
A knock on the door startled her. Pulling on her robe, she said, "Come."
Cole pushed open the door, bearing a tray.
"I brung you some willow bark tea, milady."
She smiled at him. "Thank you, Mr. Cole."
"Aw, milady, I'm just plain Cole."
He placed it on the table and poured a cup for her, then nodded his head and started to go.
"Cole, wait."
Now that she had made the start, she was unsure how to proceed. Surely she should take her questions directly to Hal, but she knew he would put her off with a charming reply and give her no answers at all.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"May I ask you something?"
His manner was guarded. Perhaps a roundabout method would be of more help.
"Would you sit for a moment or two while I drink my tea and talk with me?"
The old man squinted his one eye at her. "Milady, I got me work to do."
"Just for a moment or two."
He considered then nodded. "Aye, all right. Just for a moment or two."
She smiled her thanks and took a seat at the small table. Cole pulled out a chair and sat.
"The Captain took me on a brief tour of the ship. I must say I had no idea how complicated a sailing ship is."
Cole nodded stiffly. "Yes, milady."
She sipped her tea. "Tell me, Cole, how long have you known Captain Merritt?"
"I've sailed with him for over a year now. I signed on first thing."
"From Wilmington?"
"Yes."
"I suppose such a ship as this must be very costly. How did the Captain come to have her?"
"He captured her."
"From whom?"
"From your husband, milady."
Her breath caught in her throat. "This ship?" Then fragments of the memory of Hal telling the same story to her and Geoffrey returned in all its horror.
"Aye. She was called Moonglow then. The Cap'n changed her name to Spring Moon once she no longer carried the stink of being a slaver."
She almost didn't ask, but she had to know. "Cole, did you see the slaves yourself?"
"Aye. I helped carry off the dead." He studied her with his eye. "I take it, milady, you had no notion your man was up to such evil?"
Elspeth shook her head. In spite of having heard the words from Hal's mouth, she had held onto a desperate hope he'd been mistaken, that it had not been a March ship, but some other.
But she had heard of Moonglow. Richard and Alex had stormed about it for weeks. Until the next one had been lost. Her horror at learning about the ship's cargo mixed with rage. How could Alex be involved in something so unspeakable?
And since her money had been used to keep March Shipping alive, was she as guilty as her husband and Alex were?
"I must go, milady. Good night." Cole stood. With a bow of his head, he left the cabin.
* * * *
Hal stood at the rail where Elspeth had left him.
"Here, Cap'n." A pipe appeared before his face. He turned and took the pipe and the offered light.
The men smoked their pipes and stared out at the ocean, listening to the lapping of the water along the boards.
"The Countess asked me some questions, Hal."
"What sort of questions?"
"About how you come to have this vessel."
"What did you tell her?"
"The truth. She didn't know."
Hal turned to Cole. "I'm not surprised. Her husband wouldn't have been likely to share such a confidence with her."
"You still mean to kill him?"
"Would you have me do otherwise?"
The old man shook his head. "No. The la
dy deserves better." Cole knocked his pipe against the outside of the rail and watched the ashes fall into the ocean. "I just wonder how she'll feel about you after you do it."
"Her feelings are not my problem. I am sworn."
"Aye. You are sworn." Cole stuck the stem of the cold pipe between his few teeth. "Stubborn as your pap, you are, and an Injun to boot."
"That I am, old man."
"If you care for the girl, Hal, don't let her start to care for you."
Hal snorted. "Why do you think that's even possible? As soon as we land in Jamaica, she's going back to her estates and her servants and her good bosom pal the Queen. I am a savage American pirate. I wouldn't harbor any fear on her account, old friend."
Cole grunted and walked off. Hal heard him muttering under his breath but only caught the words, "Blind fool."
Chapter Seventeen
The next evening, Elspeth took special care with her appearance, all the while working to convince herself she wasn't trying to impress the pirate captain. Even if she were, Hal had shown no interest in her company today. Every time she'd passed him on the deck, all she'd received by way of welcome was a stiff smile and formal nod of the head.
A knock sounded at her cabin door. In spite of her best intentions, she felt her heart skip.
"Come," she called, struggling to keep her excitement out of her voice.
It was not Hal who stepped through the door, but his first mate, George Ross. Her heart sank to her feet.
"Are you ready for dinner, Lady Greymere?"
"I expected the Captain."
"Hal had some things to attend to. He will dine later." Mr. Ross offered his arm. "Shall we?"
Putting on her best face, she accepted his arm.
She couldn't have said what was served. She tasted nothing and heard none of the conversation around her. Her gaze wouldn't stay off the door, yearning for Hal's appearance. Their meal was almost over when he finally arrived.
He took himself to a chair across from her, though the seat beside her was empty. Again the stiff smile and formal nod.
Foolish girl, thinking he'd come seeking you out.
She stifled the hurt and turned her attention to Mr. Ross, trying to start some kind of conversation. Not once did Hal join their discussion.
Unable to keep her eyes off him, even though she received no acknowledgment he even knew she existed, Elspeth excused herself and returned to her cabin intending to retire early. How exactly she was to do that, when nervous energy had her pacing the small area, she didn't know.
Finally after much toe-tapping and several attempts to read, Elspeth threw down The History of the French Revolution and put on her slippers. A quick walk around the upper deck and some fresh air should help her to sleep.
She emerged onto the deck. The refreshing breeze cleared her head and billowed her skirt. She breathed, savoring the salt air tingling her nose. She tasted salt on her lips. Looking around, she saw a few men had congregated in the bow, gaming, smoking pipes, enjoying their daily allowance of rum. She couldn't help but notice Hal was not among them.
Suddenly awareness quivered along the back of her neck. She turned slowly around.
He stood at the wheel, feet wide apart. Their eyes met. She could tell as he ruthlessly tore his gaze from hers he did not wish to speak with her.
Well, that was simply a pity, but speak with her he would.
She strolled along the rail, taking her time. If he made his escape before she reached him, she would know he truly meant to avoid her.
What she wanted was to know why.
He stayed at his post. When she came alongside the wheelhouse, he kept his eyes forward.
"Good evening, Captain."
"Good evening, Countess."
"Lovely evening, isn't it?"
"Indeed it is."
Small talk wasn't what she wanted. "Captain, have I done something to displease you?"
He turned at that. "Not at all. Why do you ask?"
"You have avoided my company today. I wondered why."
He shrugged. "I have duties, my lady."
She waited for more, but no more was forthcoming.
"I was hoping we could talk."
"About what?"
"Anything at all. Perhaps you could teach me more about the ship and sailing."
"I'm rather busy, Countess."
She wasn't ready to concede. "Perhaps you could show me how to steer?"
"Countess-"
"Please, Captain. I shall never have another opportunity. Is it really so much to ask?"
He looked away, toward the men in the bow, back to her. "No, it isn't." He stepped away from the wheel. "Stand here and take the spokes in your hands."
A jolt of energy shot through her. She obeyed, stepping on his feet in her eagerness.
"Oh, I do apologize."
He smiled. "No harm done."
He stood behind her. When she put her hands on the spokes as he'd told her, he covered hers with his own.
His hands were so large, so strong. His heat seeped into her.
Hal leaned closer and whispered into her ear, sending a thrill down her spine.
"Now feel the ship through the wheel."
She could.
"See the compass? We're heading south-southwest, two hundred ten degrees." He showed her the reading.
"I see."
"Your job, helmswoman, is to keep the ship on that heading. Ready?"
At her anxious nod, he released her hands and she steered alone. A glance at the compass showed they were drifting off course. She jerked the wheel to the right.
"Whoa!" Hal shouted as the ship lurched. He put his hands back on hers. "Small movements here translate into large movements of the rudder. Just a little at a time."
With his hands on hers, Elspeth slowly returned the ship to her original heading.
"Well done, Countess."
His praise pleased her. "Thank you," she said. "I suppose I should stand aside and let you take over again."
"Why? You're doing superbly."
His hands remained on hers. Elspeth became aware of his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand. Her eyes moved from the compass to his caress.
"Watch the compass, my lady. You're drifting again."
She knew she was. Drifting further under his spell. She didn't care to correct that heading.
Elspeth slipped her hands from under his and turned, finding herself in his arms. His eyes burned more intensely than she'd ever seen them, even in his anger with Richard, he'd not been this...male.
"You should go now," he said, his voice raspy.
"I don't want to."
She so wanted to touch him as he'd touched her. She placed her palm against his cheek. With her finger, she traced his nose, his chin. His lips.
"Elspeth, you play with fire."
"I know." Did she? Was she truly aware of what she was doing?
Hal wet his lips and leaned forward, stopping a little way from her mouth. She almost moaned with disappointment. Then he closed the distance and pressed his lips upon hers.
His kiss played upon her mouth, lightly tasting and retreating only to return for more. When he fit his lips more perfectly to hers and wrapped her in his embrace, she knew nothing but his touch.
She wanted to please him, she yearned to please him, but knew nothing of such a kiss. All she had experienced before this was as an abomination of a sacred act. This tenderness laced with passion nearly undid her.
He demanded more, but she didn't know how to comply. His tongue touched her closed lips and she jerked back in surprise.
His arms fell to his side and he stepped away from her.
"I apologize," he said and she thought she saw a rosy blush color his copper cheeks.
"No, please. Do it again."
She saw the desire to do that in his eyes. But he only took another step back. Away from her.
"Go to bed, Countess."
Sudden mortification overcame her. She ran.
* * * *
Hal watched her run. He'd been right to stay away from her. Such a mistake wouldn't happen again. Avoiding her for the whole of the voyage on a fifty-foot long ship would test his ingenuity.
See how quickly he forgot his determination to leave her as he'd found her? Even now, his cock stood stiff and ready to initiate the lady to the pleasures of love.
Richard March deserved to die for treating such a woman as nothing.
Her taste lingered on his lips. He slipped his tongue over them to capture the smallest essence she'd left behind. He could allow himself that much at least.
Tomorrow, he would do better. Surely the captain of a ship at sea could occupy himself enough to ensure he was not tempted.
* * * *
Elspeth slammed the door behind her and collapsed against it, her breaths coming heavy from more than the exertion of running.
She'd run. Away from him. At least one of them had retained his sanity.
She closed her eyes, but it didn't erase the memory of how she'd thrown herself at him like a common whore.
Please. Do it again.
A sigh slipped from between lips still tingling from his touch even as a sharp pain jabbed her heart at how easily he'd been able to step away from her. His desire had been no less than her own, she would swear. Still, he'd made space between them, urged her to go away.
Never more than this moment had Elspeth wished for another woman to talk to, one who knew the ways of men, one who could counsel her, help her deal with this hopeless attraction she felt toward the pirate captain.
Her knees still shook as she walked to the window seat and flopped onto the cushions. The History of the French Revolution lay where it had fallen and she had no inclination to pick it up and continue reading.
Her mind was too full of dark eyes and strong hands.
He was so different from the men she had known. Most assuredly he was worlds different from the only man she'd known in a carnal way. And somewhere in her heart she knew Hal's methods of lovemaking were as different from her husband's as the men themselves were.
How she yearned to learn that difference. Yet, she and Hal were separated by the same distance. Their worlds were too disparate to believe there could ever be more between them than existed at this moment.
Still, she couldn't stop herself from dreaming.
She lay her head back and let herself remember and her heart weep for what might have been.
The Ladys Pirate Page 16