by Howe, Cheryl
He stilled at the realization. As silently as a creature of the night, he strode to the bed to gaze down into her face.
Her innocent features didn’t give him any answers to the thousand questions crowding his mind. As curious as he was, he’d honored her request not to be interrogated. But that was in the heat of the moment. Now that his head had cleared, he’d like a few explanations. Not that he minded her lack of chastity. In fact, it was a trait he cheered the abandonment of in the fairer sex. Nothing in her manner, however—in bed or out—spoke of a string of lovers. Her raw passion held no hint of artifice or experience. The man who had gotten to her before him had undoubtedly meant something to Miss Kendall.
It seemed Felicity had a few secrets of her own, and as much as the knowledge should have brought him relief, it unexpectedly made Drew see green.
Chapter Eleven
The cabin door banged open and interrupted Felicity’s passionate embrace of Drew’s pillow. Her gaze jerked up to find Hugh skipping into the cabin. Solomon followed, his hands occupied with a tray. Warmth spread to Felicity’s cheeks. She loosened her grip on the pillow she held to her face and pretended to fluff it.
Hugh regarded her quizzically, while Solomon avoided eye contact altogether.
“Why were you smelling that pillow?” asked Hugh in a combination of innocence and accusation that could only be believable in a child.
“Don’t be silly. I was only making the bed.” She glanced at the rumpled sheets and wished she had concocted something else to cover her shameful fondling of Drew’s pillow.
When she’d awoken to late morning sun pushing through the portholes, Drew had disappeared and their night together seemed no more than a dream. Yet the satisfied ache in her muscles, along with the heady fragrance of their erotic encounter, assured her every whispered word and frantic caress had been real. His scent on the pillow had rekindled the details and made her heart pound.
Hugh tried to yank the pillow she clutched to her chest away from her. “I’ll help you make the bed.”
She held the damning evidence above her head while she blocked his advance and his view. “That won’t be necessary, Hugh. My, what a feast you brought. Why don’t you help your father set the table?”
Hugh followed her suggestion without the slightest hint he noticed her discomposure. Solomon’s stiff movements as he banged the silver dishes told her any attempt to keep him from noticing the enormous four-poster bed’s tangled bedclothes would be in vain.
“My apologies for startling you. The captain thought you might be sleeping and didn’t wish you disturbed when I left your breakfast.”
She forced herself to look serene, if not innocent, when she strode toward the table. Her swollen lips and stubble-burned cheeks prevented any hope of that. “So much food and such elegant serving dishes. Do you two plan to join me?”
“Miss Kendall, I must say, in our short acquaintance, I’ve never seen you so cheerful.” Solomon’s dry tone deflated her smile. “Sleep well, did you?”
Hugh interrupted, saving her from choking out an answer. “I already ate. We stole those dishes. I helped. Will you teach me some more writing?” Hugh turned to his father, holding a tattered piece of parchment in his out-stretched hand. “Look at what I wrote, Papa.”
Solomon pulled his attention away from the stiff performance of his duties to glance at the paper his son waved in his face. Felicity swallowed hard, forcing herself to stand straighter Obviously Solomon suspected what went on last night and didn’t approve. She shouldn’t be surprised by his censure, nor should she expect to escape the consequences of her indiscretion. Try as she might, she didn’t care. Her body still tingled from Drew’s thorough attentions. A real smile crept to her face.
Solomon scanned his son’s work. His gaze met Felicity’s over the sheet of paper. He was not smiling, but the cool look of judgment had left his dark eyes. “Thank you for teaching Hugh. I would be grateful if you’d continue. Perhaps—that’s if you don’t mind—I could join in on the lessons?”
She felt her smile widen until her cheeks hurt. Solomon’s minor concession might well be the keys to a kingdom. Everything seemed so much more wonderful today. “I would love to. You’re welcome to watch, but you’ve no need to worry over my capabilities as a teacher. My education exceeds that of most women, or men, for that matter.
Solomon continued picking up the dishes left from dinner two days past. “You didn’t even get a proper meal yesterday. The captain put me in charge of feeding you and I’ve been neglectful. I made a tray for you last night, but—”
She interrupted before he went any further. “I understand, Solomon. No need for apologies.” After draping her rose-colored skirts over the cushioned seat, she lifted the silver cover from a plate steaming with poached eggs. Hunger pangs thudded against her ribs.
“I’m famished. Thank you both for the feast.”
Solomon relaxed visibly. “Those are real chicken eggs. Drew said to give you the best we had. There’s bread and smoked fish as well.”
“Thank you,” Felicity said through a mouth full of food. Usually she had better manners, but she seemed to be doing many things out of character these days. “Please sit. I’ll begin Hugh’s lesson as soon as I’ve finished eating.”
Hugh plopped down in the seat next to her. “Can I have another piece of paper? I want to draw an octopus. I’ve seen one before. Have you? The one I saw was dead and smelled like—”
“Hugh, let Miss Kendall finish her breakfast.” Solomon picked up the tray laden with dirty dishes. “I have some duties to attend to first, but please start the lesson without me. I’ll have to catch up anyway.”
She stopped devouring the eggs long enough to answer. “You haven’t missed much. I just went through the basics.” Solomon squared his already broad shoulders. The tension she noticed before returned. “I don’t know the basics, Miss Kendall. I was hoping you could teach me with Hugh.”
She tried to blink away her surprise, sure she’d misunderstood. “But you’re the quartermaster. Doesn’t that involve keeping records?”
“I have my own system that serves me quite well.” His words were delivered with such finality, she fully expected him to stalk from the cabin. Instead, he stayed where he was. “Still, I’d like to learn to read and write properly.” She felt like a fool. A runaway slave wouldn’t have had much opportunity to learn to read and write. Obviously, his request had come at great personal cost. Solomon wore his pride like a shield. “Of course. It would encourage Hugh if you participated in his lessons.”
Solomon nodded, then turned to leave.
“Solomon,” she called out. “Hurry back. I don’t know how much time we have before we reach Barbados, but we’ll need every moment to get you two reading and writing.”
He paused at the door. “We’re not going to Barbados. To the best of my knowledge, we don’t have a specific destination. We should have all the time we need.”
“What?” She slowly lowered her forkful of food.
“Is something wrong, Miss Kendall?”
“I thought... It’s just that I thought...” She wondered if the chill settling around her heart showed in her eyes. The hint of Drew’s possible betrayal pricked like a thorn. She hid the unexpected slice of pain behind a rush of bravado. “I assumed taking me home was the captain’s first order of business. I’m sure he’s as eager to have me out of his hair as you are.”
Solomon’s raised eyebrows signaled his skepticism. “We both know that’s not true. At least the part about the captain wanting to be rid of you.”
Drew might want her, but had he lied to obtain her? Her rediscovery of her buried sexuality had been all-consuming. It hadn’t occurred to her that Drew might deceive her just to make use of her body. Of course, she knew their liaison was purely physical. Unlike with Erik, whom she’d thought loved her and would marry her, she expected no such promises from Drew. Knowing this she assumed would protect her from the devastation of being rej
ected. Suddenly she realized there where far worse things than a broken heart. Instead of just gambling with her own future, had she gambled with her father’s as well?
She pushed away the plate of food, her appetite evaporated with the sting of reality. “I can’t eat. I’m worried about my father. I need to return to Barbados immediately.”
Solomon relaxed his stance, rattling the dishes on the tray. “We’ll see to getting you back as soon as possible. I’ll talk to the captain.” He turned to go.
She stopped him before he reached the door. “You’re anxious to be rid of me. Aren’t you, Solomon?”
Solomon shook his head. “It’s not for myself that I’m concerned. I am grateful for your interest in educating Hugh. My fear is for the crew—and that the captain is too anxious to keep you.”
Before Felicity could recover from his remark or question him further, Solomon left the room. She recognized compassion in the man’s eyes when she’d mentioned her father. He’d even offered to speak to Drew on her behalf. But was he friend or foe?
Hugh tugged on her arm. “Can I draw?”
Felicity tried to shake off her troubled thoughts so she could focus on the child. “First I want you to recite the letters we learned yesterday.”
After the letter C, Hugh’s recitation fell on deaf ears despite Felicity’s best efforts to pay attention. She glanced out the window and guessed it to be close to noon. Drew would come soon. She would not listen to the dark voice warning her that he was just like Erik, was only using her for his own ends. The way Drew had made love to her should be proof enough of the two men’s vast differences. Drew had asked for her trust and she willingly gave it, and so much more. He would not promise to help her father, ravish her, then forget about the whole thing. Would he?
***
A moan slipped from Avery Sneed’s slack lips. Drew stilled his careful ministrations until the unconscious man relaxed. Again, Drew started to pull the blood-soaked bandages from the wound, wincing himself when the cloth stuck unmercifully.
“How is he?” asked a deep, melodic voice somewhere behind him.
Solomon’s silent approach startled Drew, but years of living by nothing but his wits had trained him not to show any outward reaction. He continued with his task, as if Solomon had not just appeared out of nowhere. “I didn’t think our lanky Mr. Sneed could look any more gaunt, but I was wrong.”
In the faint glimmer of sunlight seeping from the deck above, Avery Sneed resembled a corpse. With the added glow of a lantern, Drew could see that Avery struggled to take shallow breaths. Each slight shudder of his thin chest gave Drew hope. Most captains would have resigned themselves to his death. A gut wound was almost always fatal.
Their lack of a qualified surgeon lessened the man’s chances even more.
Solomon silently stood over Drew as he worked. The quartermaster had a way of tempering Drew’s streak of stubbornness with common sense. He knew by Solomon’s patient stance what the man wished to say—tending Avery Sneed was a futile endeavor. In this case, Drew didn’t think he would appreciate his friend’s dependable rationality.
“Shouldn’t you be instructing the navigator on our next course, Captain?”
“I came to check on Avery after I questioned the prisoners. The boy you assigned to take the surgeon’s place didn’t know what the hell he was doing.”
“And you do?” Solomon moved closer, examining the wound himself.
In the small airless room, the quartermaster’s unyielding presence suffocated Drew. The cabin used to store supplies was hardly suitable as a sickroom, but it was all they had for privacy, and at least it was quiet. Drew would have used his own cabin, but Felicity occupied it. Surely, Solomon had something to say about that too. Drew forced his thoughts away from Felicity and what had happened yesterday. He’d already badly neglected his obligations as captain because of his weakness for her. Felicity and the change in their relationship would have to wait.
Drew glanced at Solomon. “If you insist on hovering over me, you can put yourself to use. Hand me the brandy on the crate beside you.”
Solomon passed Drew the bottle. “Has Miss Kendall driven you to drink before noon?”
Drew ignored him and poured the amber liquid over Avery’s wound. The wounded man no longer had the strength to even whimper.
“Drew—,” began Solomon.
“Don’t say it. I know his chances aren’t good and we’ve lost plenty of crewmen before, but Avery’s been with us longer than most. If he isn’t going to get the benefit of a bloody surgeon, then I’m going to try to keep him alive as long as possible.”
He left out the part about his guilt over Avery’s injury. He’d been so concerned with not hurting the men of the Carolina, he hadn’t ensured the safety of his own crew. If Felicity wasn’t on the ship, he would have acted differently. Why, was something he was not ready to think about right now.
Solomon picked up the bundle of clean bandages sitting next to the brandy and gave them to Drew one by one. “I still need to know the course you wish to take. Did the prisoners give any clues to El Diablo’s location?”
“Well, that’s bloody unlikely since I’m El Diablo and they know it,” snapped Drew. As soon as he placed the clean strip of cloth over Avery’s wound, red devoured white.
“I meant the impostor, the man responsible for Marley’s death.”
“No. They thought I was insane, asking where they saw me last. It seems the bloody bastard has disappeared.” Drew thought to apologize for his outburst, but he was already doing too many things out of character—like apologizing and snapping at Solomon. “I haven’t slept much,” he added, a concession to his conscience.
“I didn’t think you’d slept at all.”
Drew waited for the rest. Thankfully, it didn’t come. “You can tell the navigator to plot a course for the Bahamas. If the bastard isn’t hiding out there, someone else will know about him.”
Solomon angled Avery so Drew could wrap the dressing around his thin chest. “The Bahamas are overrun with other pirates. Do you really think it’s one of the Brethren who’s impersonating you?”
A member of the Brethren—the name by which the loosely knit brotherhood of pirates referred to themselves—was a definite possibility for the source of his troubles. Of course, a more logical source came to mind, but Drew refused to consider it. His noble father might be a lot of things, but not a murderer of old men and women. “Who else? Nobody becomes a pirate for the fraternity.”
While Drew added a second bandage, Solomon held Avery in a sitting position. “But why kill Marley?”
“Why not? Marley was advertising his windfall loud enough. He was an easy target. And with flotillas of His Majesty’s warships scouring the trade routes, new sources of revenue have to be found.”
Solomon gently guided Avery back to the table. “No. Marley’s murder was personal. They wanted to point the finger at you. Someone knows about your connection with the New England Trading Company. I know it seems extreme and complicated but your father—”
“No.” Leave it to Solomon to read the fears Drew wouldn’t even admit to himself. “He’s a bloody duke. They don’t have to murder people. They can just snub them out of existence.”
Drew tied the ends of the bandage and continued. “Perhaps Marley spoke of Lord Christian’s connection to El Diablo to someone besides my father. I suspect Marley was killed for either money or revenge. Spreading rumors that El Diablo committed the murders was a logical solution to hide the crimes. And I think our culprit has to be a pirate—or at least have the heart of one.”
Drew had long ago eliminated any of the pampered planters on Barbados from his list of suspects. Philip Linley might be put out with Drew for bedding his wife, but the man wasn’t a killer of innocent women.
Drew immersed his bloodstained hands in a bucket of salt water. “Maybe I’m wrong and the impostor’s not a pirate. But whoever he is, he needed a pirate crew to carry out the deeds he wanted don
e, and the Bahamas would be the best place to find one. I’ll see to the navigation myself.”
Solomon blocked Drew’s exit. “Have you considered the culprit may be a certain Spaniard after revenge? They don’t like it when you escape from their prisons or seduce their daughters.”
Drew grinned for the first time since leaving Felicity’s arms late last night. “I’m well aware of that possibility, Mr. Quartermaster. That’s why I’ll do the navigation. And I’m steering us as far away from the Spanish Main as possible.”
Solomon finally stepped aside to let Drew brush by. “What of the men we took from the Carolina? We can’t keep them in the hold indefinitely.”
“We’ll drop them off in Nassau. There’s a semblance of civilization in New Providence since Woodes Rogers became governor. From there, they can find a ship back to Barbados. The longer it takes them to spread word of our acquaintance, the better it will be for Ben.”
Solomon stopped him before he slipped through the door. “And Miss Kendall? Are you going to drop her off in Nassau as well?”
“I can’t leave her there. It’s still overrun with the worst dregs of humanity. It will take Rogers more than a few hangings to clean that place up entirely.”
He hadn’t been fast enough to escape Solomon’s probing questions about Felicity. Drew leaned against the door jamb, bracing himself for an argument on a subject he wasn’t entirely clear on himself.
Solomon didn’t disappoint him. “We’re still close to Antigua. You could leave her there. It’s a British colony. She’ll have no trouble finding her way to Barbados with coin enough to get her there. We could also find her a trustworthy companion.”
“And lose two days? I don’t have time to waste. I have to find a pirate for the British to hang before they decide Ben will do.”
There it was. Drew didn’t want to think about it, much less admit it out loud, but there it was. He wasn’t going to let Felicity go. She’d worked her way under his skin, and the joining of their bodies only made his desire for her stronger. He didn’t know if the same unnavigable current pulled her to him as it had him to her, but there could be no other explanation for the change in her, or his desire to keep her close and safe—even against his better judgment.