The Pirate and the Puritan

by Howe, Cheryl

  Solomon shook his head. “I think you’re making a mistake. Miss Kendall seemed eager to return to Barbados.”

  “Of course she wants to go back to Barbados. She thinks she can help Ben. But we both know she’d only end up causing trouble. It’s better for everyone involved if we keep her with us until this is over.”

  By the frown hardening Solomon’s face, Drew expected him to comment on the trouble Felicity was likely to cause onboard, but the man said nothing. Drew had thought of it himself. But the only reasonable thing was to hold on to her.

  His justifications eased the tension in his gut when he thought of sending Felicity away, either back to Barbados or Boston. He owed it to Ben to keep her safe, and knowing her propensity for rash action, that would best be accomplished by keeping careful watch over her. Ben might not be overwhelmed with gratitude regarding Drew’s seduction of his daughter, but Drew couldn’t think of that part right now.

  He turned to leave, weary of a subject that had plagued him since his blood had cooled and he’d realized what he’d done. His lack of regret for bedding Felicity worried him almost as much as his urgent desire to do so again.

  Solomon followed him out into the companionway. “When I spoke to Miss Kendall this morning, she seemed distressed to learn we weren’t returning to Barbados. She tried to hide it, but she was momentarily at a loss for words. I’m sure that doesn’t happen often.”

  Drew swung around to face Solomon, hoping he could hide his distress better than Felicity. “You talked to her this morning? What did you tell her?”

  Solomon shrugged. “Nothing, really. I certainly didn’t reveal you’re the infamous El Diablo whose name is a curse on every God-fearing man’s lips.”

  Drew rubbed his forehead. “Just try not to say much to her. She has a way of getting information you don’t intend to give her.”

  “I’ll manage. And you?”

  Drew reached for the ladder. “I told you I can handle Felicity, and I will.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Try to force some water down Avery. I’ll check on his dressing again this afternoon, then I need to get some sleep.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Solomon said.

  As Drew climbed up the steps leading to the main deck, the quartermaster called one last piece of advice. “If you plan on getting any sleep at all today, I would avoid using your cabin.”

  Ah, sweet , sweet Felicity, Drew thought. No, he couldn’t think about her right now.

  Chapter Twelve

  In the dim passage leading to his cabin, a shadow moved. Drew blinked, unsure of what he saw. The sun’s last rays, dancing brilliantly against the water before sinking into the sea, had left his vision spotty. Stepping into the darkness temporarily blinded him. Still, he swore someone watched him from the shadows. Solomon had been with him on the upper deck only moments before. Hugh was supposed to be splicing rope with another crewman. No one else should have been in this companionway.

  Drew shook off the premonition of danger, a reaction to too many years of being an outlaw. On his ship, he was safe.

  The fading sun spilled a shaft of muted light through the open hatch. It struck metal. A figure emerged from the shadows, pointing a pistol at his chest.

  A flash of instinct urged Drew to lunge at his assailant. Grabbing just beyond the glimmer of metal rewarded him with the feel of bones and skin. His opponent appeared too stunned to react. Drew yanked the man’s arm above his head, forcing the weapon out of range. In the same instant, Drew used his body to slam his attacker against the ship’s inner hull, pinning him with his weight. Full contact revealed his mistake. A soft feminine grunt escaped with an exhalation of breath.

  “Felicity?”

  “Drew.” Relief punctuated her voice and the sudden slump of her body against his.

  Every curve she possessed tormented his raw nerves. Vivid details of their lovemaking flooded his senses. His body grew taut, reacting with much too much enthusiasm to her nearness.

  “I thought one of the prisoners escaped,” he murmured close to her mouth. Before he could think better of it, he kissed her. He lost himself in the softness of her lips. His reasons for avoiding his cabin all day suddenly seemed unimportant. The smell and taste of her overcame any point in reasoning. He tore his mouth away from hers, looking for a place to support both their weights.

  The red glow of early dusk poured through the open hatch and banished his wayward thoughts. Anyone could glance from above deck and see him on the verge of devouring Felicity whole. He slowly woke from his drugged lust. Had she been pointing a gun at him?

  He had one hand on Felicity’s breast and the other low on her back, pressing her against his arousal. Peeling her off him was almost painful. Felicity’s arms had been draped around him. With his withdrawal, they fell to her sides.

  He grabbed the pistol dangling from her limp hand. “What the hell is this?”

  Felicity’s hooded gaze narrowed. Lips that were still slightly parted and wet from his kisses pursed. “I’m angry with you.”

  Drew stepped back and guided her into the privacy of his cabin. “Obviously. You can tell me about it inside. You know you’re not to leave the cabin.”

  She sidestepped his touch, entering the room of her own accord. Her sudden distance cooled everything like a dousing of winter rain. “Oh, yes, for my own safety. Well, it’s not so safe inside your cabin, either.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. But he knew full well what she meant. He teetered between anger and self-recrimination. Anger seemed the better way to fall. “I was the one who was almost shot. What is my crime? Not being a saint? I believe that makes two of us.”

  Felicity whirled around to face him. “You promised to help my father.”

  “And I intend to. What were you doing outside, anyway? I thought we understood each other.” Drew was relieved that her first attack was something he had an excuse for. His reason for bedding a vulnerable woman under his care was something he had yet to justify, even to himself.

  “By going back on your word the moment you’ve gotten what you want. If that’s your idea of helping my father, then we don’t understand each other at all.” Her voice cracked. Just as quickly as she had faced him moments before, she turned around, showing Drew her back.

  The thudding sound of his own heart echoed in his ears. A combination of foolishness and overconfidence had mistakenly led him to believe he could remain detached after he’d seduced Felicity. What he’d expected her reaction to be, he couldn’t say. Or rather, he hadn’t bothered to take into consideration. The soft purple fog of dusk drifted through the windows, providing Drew with the illusion of cover in which to watch Felicity. His anger at her leaving his cabin slipped in the face of his own unscrupulous behavior.

  He’d pacified distraught lovers before, but with Felicity he was at a loss. A pretty bouquet of half-truths and out-right lies whispered against her neck would enrage her. The truth was he wanted to give her more than that, but he had nothing to offer. An apology for taking advantage of the situation didn’t seem appropriate—especially since he wasn’t sorry.

  “Nothing has changed.” He stepped toward her with the intention of placing a brotherly pat on her rounded shoulder, nothing more. Though he hadn’t expected hysterics from her, he assured himself he could deal with this. Realizing she wasn’t that much different from other women gave him a shaky boost of confidence. Maybe now he could put his own feelings in perspective.

  His fingers barely grazed her before she shrugged off his touch, stepping away. With her spine stiff, she turned to face him again, a picture of composure. He was thankful for the fading light that shielded him from her gaze, which experience warned would be cold and cutting.

  “Then why, pray tell, are we not returning to Barbados to arrange my father’s release?”

  “I won’t be much use to Ben dead, and that’s exactly what I would be if I stepped foot on Barbados. Or is that what you had in mind?” />
  Her balled fists indicated he’d nicked her composure again. “How dare you? I’m not the one who has gone back on my word. I’ve no need to defend myself.”

  “Nor do I, but you’ve already condemned me. May I ask what offense has warranted my execution—not going to Barbados or ravishing you?” Drew retrieved the pistol from his waistband and held it out to her.

  Blue twilight had overtaken the room. Felicity had to move closer to see what he held. “I wasn’t going to shoot you. I went to find you and took the pistol for protection. You told me your ship was dangerous.”

  “You knew bloody damn well you weren’t supposed to leave the cabin, so why did you?” He felt the anger creeping up his neck all over again and found it a welcome relief to being on the defensive.

  She lifted her chin, letting him know she was not about to be intimidated by his show of temper. “Because you were avoiding me. As you are now.”

  “I had things to do, but I’m here now, and I’ll explain if you let me.”

  With a curt nod, she settled in a chair at the table.

  He had no idea what explanation he would give. The truth in her accusation struck him hard. All day he’d told himself he was too busy, but the reality was, he was afraid to face her. That she could see through him so easily scared him more than he’d ever admit.

  He pulled out the chair beside her but was too anxious to sit. Instead, he leaned his hip against the table and crossed his arms over his chest. While he thought of what to say, he gazed at Felicity.

  She had arranged her hair in a tight knot and wore the same gown as she had the day before. Though it was probably the most demure of the gowns in the trunk, if he lit a candle he’d be able to see a good portion of her pale breasts. Leering at her wasn’t likely to help his cause. Besides, darkness was better for confessions and lying. With Felicity, a little of both was his best line of defense.

  “Freeing Ben involves capturing the man who killed Marley. If I return to Barbados without someone for them to arrest, Ben could stay in jail for the rest of his life or hang right beside me.”

  She patted the knot imprisoning her hair. “My father could already be hanged by the time you accomplish that feat. Besides, you said everyone knows you aren’t really related to the Duke of Foxmoor. Why should they believe you, even if you do manage to capture El Diablo? They all know you’re a charlatan.”

  A derogatory name he’d used to describe himself, sometimes with pride, rankled from Felicity’s lips. Her obvious lack of confidence in his abilities didn’t sit well either. Nor did the fact that his plan didn’t sound any better to him than it did to her. But he had no other solution. If he tried to break Ben out of jail, he’d no doubt be captured. He was sure the Barbadians were planning for just such an attempt. As vague as it might sound, finding out who killed Marley might give Drew a clue as to his next step. But he wasn’t about to share his doubts with Felicity.

  “Since you’re keeping record of the facts, I am related to the Duke of Foxmoor. On all other counts, you are correct. I’ve already been condemned, as has Ben, by association to me. If I can give the Barbadians Marley’s killer, they can at least stop blaming us for something we didn’t do.” He could also tell her that Ben knew of the consequences of their association, and if Drew was captured during a pirate raid, he’d never expect Ben to expose himself to come to his rescue. As much as that was the way of his business, Drew found it difficult swallowing that excuse, and he knew Ben would never desert him.

  “But you’re still a—” began Felicity.

  Drew held up his hand. “I know what I am, but being a fraudulent aristocrat is better than a murdering pirate. Everyone will assume I tricked Ben as I did everyone else. She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat.

  “At least convincing people of your devious nature shouldn’t be hard to do.”

  “This is about more than my plans to help Ben.” Drew knelt before her. He needed to look into her eyes. She acted as if she didn’t care if he lived or died, so long as he made sure her father was safe. No doubt his daylong abandonment had hurt her. Women needed to be reassured after they’d been made love to even in the best of circumstances, which his liaison with Felicity certainly was not. Any self-respecting lover of women knew that proper etiquette on the day after was crucial. He usually sent a gift at the very least.

  He lifted Felicity’s hands from her lap and held them. “Are you angry with me for seducing you? I know you were vulnerable after the news about your father. You needed a comforting shoulder to cry on, and I suppose I had other ideas.”

  Felicity tried to yank her hands away, but he held them tight. “You didn’t seduce me. I seduced you, and don’t lump me in with all your other women. You’ve no right to assume you know what I’m about.”

  “You’re jealous. Felicity, I’ve known many women in my life, but you’re different than—” The shake of her head gave him an excuse to stop babbling. He feared he was about to confess something to her he’d barely admitted to himself.

  “Spare me your honey-coated promises.” Her tone made it clear she found nothing sweet in anything he said. “We both were in full control of our senses. I don’t expect anything from you other than your honesty in dealing with my father’s predicament.”

  He dropped her hands and stood, which took more effort than he’d expected. Her chilly composure broadsided him. Well, he’d not been in control of anything when he’d made love to Felicity. He was out of his mind with lust and continued to do bizarre things every time he found himself in her presence. She didn’t appear plagued with the same affliction. His concern over having a fawning female on his hands hadn’t left room for him to consider his own rejection. Or maybe it had, and that was the real reason he’d stayed away from his cabin. Leave it to Felicity to use such a vulnerable part of his anatomy against him. Now he had a good idea how a few of his clinging mistresses had felt when he’d discarded them.

  If this was the way Miss Kendall wanted to play, he could do it better. “So, how is it you came to be in such control of your faculties in the bedchamber, love?”

  Felicity studied her hands in the darkened room. Cracking her icy demeanor gave him only a moment’s satisfaction. He really wasn’t much of a gentleman, though he did know enough not to bring up a lady’s past. Whatever Felicity’s previous experience with men, he was sure it was limited, and his mention of something she obviously went to great efforts to hide probably embarrassed her deeply. It was an underhanded maneuver carried out in an attempt to salve his own wounded pride.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Drew went to light a lantern, but the tremor in Felicity’s voice stopped him. “I suppose you deserve to know. Most men would expect an explanation.”

  “Not necessarily. I only asked because I was surprised.” He gently placed his hand on her shoulder in silent support. Her deception might have been a good thing or he’d have had her in his bed sooner. Dealing with the aftermath earlier in their relationship would have been worse than this. She’d have shot him for sure.

  She exhaled loudly before she began to speak. “It happened only once, when I was much younger. My mother died shortly before I discovered men—or should I say, they discovered me? I had no one to talk to about such things. I was raised in the Puritan church, and all the women I knew were of the same mind.”

  “Not a place for a girl burgeoning to womanhood to ask for guidance in matters of the heart.”

  “The matrons had much advice to give—all of it condemning everything about me. They thought me too head-strong.”

  He straightened, with exaggerated surprise. “No!”

  Felicity smiled, almost laughed. “Yes. They were right, though. I fell in love with the most handsome man I’d ever seen. Impulsively and foolishly, I gave myself to him. He broke my heart and stole money from my father.”

  “Handsome, was he? What did he look like?” Drew stalked around to face her. He stopped himself from
asking if the bastard was more appealing than he. He didn’t like this turn of events.

  “Erik was blond, blue-eyed, tall. He looked like an angel.”

  Drew wished he’d never started this bloody conversation. “Surely those are the exaggerated perceptions of a giddy young girl. Blond men have a tendency to look effeminate, weak.”

  “He didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. He made me feel like a grown woman, and I was eager to be one in every way. I was a fool.”

  “No. You were innocent and he was a bastard. Where is he now?” If he was anywhere in the vicinity, Drew had a mind to pay a call on the fop. He’d see how his blue eyes looked rimmed in black.

  “I don’t know. He left Boston shortly afterward. He promised to marry me but said he wanted to prove himself to my father first.”

  “Thank God the scoundrel left before you were stuck with him. You were lucky.”

  “No, I wasn’t. He worked for my father, and later Master Marley discovered he’d been embezzling from the company. He used me to disguise his deeds.”

  Drew reached down and took her hand. This time she gave it willingly. “Don’t worry, sweeting. Not much got past Marley. Your angel had to have been very sly. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “You fooled Marley.”

  “But I’m a tricky devil. A master of deception.” Of course, he hadn’t fooled Marley, but revealing that now wouldn’t improve Felicity’s mood.

  Despite his self-restraint, or rather his need for self-preservation, Felicity continued to frown. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Instantly, he understood. He massaged her palm with his thumb. “I’m not like him. I admit I love women, but I don’t use them to carry out my evil schemes. I can do that all on my own.” At least he could be honest about that.