Caution skittered down his spine and tingled through his fingers. “And if I refuse?”
Commander Blythe smiled and opened his arms wide. “You’re free to leave.” He leaned one elbow on the table, his gaze hard, unforgiving. “But choose carefully. I am a very powerful man.”
Rand stood, swallowed the rest of his rum, and set the mug back on the tabletop. The commander remained seated, his dark-blue gaze unblinking and intense. “I would love to comply, but I am a business man first. We both know I’m a smuggler...” Rand released the mug and straightened his spine. “But I’m not a traitor. Do have a good day, sir.”
Rand turned on his heel and headed for the stairs, leaving the bill of his drink to the commander. With nerves strung tight, Rand anticipated a warning shout from the commander, but none came. It wasn’t until he reached the entrance that the man called out his name. He paused, tensed, and prepared to spring out the door. He refused to face the commander, another subtle way of letting the man know who Rand believed was the real criminal in this establishment.
“Captain Whitton,” Blythe said, “we will meet again. And next time, conditions won’t be quite so...shall I say, comfortable.”
~ * ~
Two weeks later
Randall crumpled the missive in his hand as the crew loaded the supplies. He re-opened it again and peered at the contents. A name he hadn’t heard in years stared back at him.
The Duke of Danby requires your presence at Danby Castle for Christmas.
Why now? After all these years?
His grandfather’s name hadn’t been spoken since his father’s death sixteen years earlier, and he’d preferred it that way.
Danby had helped create Randall, a man who would do most anything for money, a man who didn’t give a fig for polite society, and a man who enjoyed pulling the wool over the Brit’s eyes for the simple fact that he imagined he was snubbing his grandfather instead.
Rage curled his fists tightly, and the crinkle of the paper seemed loud in the silence of the evening. For two weeks, he’d contemplated his decision to return home to England. He’d never stepped foot on English soil other than to dock in Portsmouth for business, and yet, he still considered himself British. The idea of returning now, sickened him.
However, he could swallow the bile long enough to make a few pounds off the trip. He’d always been able to turn anything into profit; it was a gift. And a curse.
Money could never fill the void in his life his grandfather had left there. Instead, he tucked it away, smothered it with a false sense of security, and pretended it didn’t exist. But the missive had brought all the old insecurities to the forefront, and now he must face a past he had long buried.
Rand whirled and headed for his cabin. He would set sail in two days. He’d finalized the deal today with his benefactor’s solicitor, and the sugar would be delivered by December as promised. He still had several months to decide whether or not to visit his grandfather while he was in England.
He refused to worry about it just yet. Business came first.
Clicking the hatch closed, dim lamp light spilled across the desk but barely reached the corners of the room. He froze.
Awareness crept over him in slow. agonizing inches. Someone else was in the cabin with him. His reached for his pistol.
“No need for that.” The voice came from the darkest corner of the cabin. Decidedly female, the sultry tone with the slightest British accent intrigued him.
“Who are you and what are you doing on my ship?”
Quiet laughter responded to his question. “Did I frighten you, Captain?”
Rand stalked inside and settled the missive on his desk. “It would take more than a mere female in the dark to frighten me, Madame.”
Lamplight flickered across the cabin walls, sending shadows scuttling like mice across the room. “Forgive me for the intrusion, but I must speak with you before you set sail.”
How did she know he was leaving? “Have we met before?” Suspicion held him immobile. Was this a trick from Blythe?
The rustle of fabric as the figure moved further into the shadows slithered to him like a serpent in the darkness. “No, not officially.”
“Then why don’t you come out of the shadows and introduce yourself?”
Another chuckle greeted him. Intrigued. Uneasy. Her breath broke the silence. Roses and sandalwood lingered in the air, drawing him closer and luring him in with little more than a promise of seduction. He breathed in, fascinated and yet wary. “Forgive me for being abrupt, but I’m a busy man. Why don’t we dispense with the pleasantries and come to the reason you’re in my cabin alone in the middle of the evening.”
“I have a proposition for you, Captain. One I’m certain you won’t refuse.”
“It’d better be one hell of an offer.”
She laughed. “Trust me, I know exactly what it takes to persuade a man like you.”
He lifted a single brow. “Indeed?” How did she know him? Caution held his tongue from revealing anything more.
“We already have a deal, Captain. I’m just here to make it a little sweeter.”
Sweeter? The temptation in those few words whispered in his ear. A rush of desire for a woman he couldn’t see coursed through him at the invitation in her tone. Blood surged through his veins and awareness crashed over him.
She materialized out of the shadows. His heart came to a sudden halt and then resumed at a thundering pace. The woman eased toward the desk and slid onto its surface before him, mere inches away, and caused his heart to flutter wildly.
Dark, chocolate hair spilled over one shoulder under a black beaver felt D’orsay hat. Her cut-away coat had a high collar, and the linen white shirt was fashionably wrapped with a cravat. The tight fitted waistcoat revealed a shapely form. The shock of seeing a woman in men’s fashion left him slightly speechless.
Not even the shadows could dim the brilliance of her eyes. They were light colored and powerful—even in the darkness.
She grinned. “I must congratulate you on the many successful runs you’ve had. I must say I’ve never worked with a more meticulous captain before. You’re a man after my own heart.”
Stunned silence followed until he could manage to swallow and respond. “I’m not quite following you...and frankly I find this vague conversation more than a little annoying. Perhaps you should be more forthright.”
Silence descended for mere seconds and a slow smile crept across her face. “You sealed a deal with my solicitor earlier this morning. You’re smuggling my sugar cane into South Hampton by December, and I’ve already paid you for it. Now, I’m here to offer you even more money than we previously agreed upon. What do you say? Do you think you’re up for a little challenge?”
~ 2 ~
Jewel Derington removed the black leather gloves from her hands. The good captain continued to stare at her. She hoped to ease some of the tension by adding, “You’ve worked with me for years, Captain, whether you realized it or not.”
“J.Derington, I presume.”
Technically the J stood for James, her father, but Whitton didn’t need to know that. “Jewel Derington, yes. And now that we’re officially introduced, let me move on with my proposal.” She stood and walked around his desk, settling into the leather chair. Propping her Hessians atop the mahogany surface, she smiled. “I need to get to England, and I’ve decided I’ll be traveling with my shipment this time.”
“You’ve decided?” Whitton laughed and crossed his arms across his chest. “You presume quite a bit, Miss Derington.”
“Call me Jewel,” she whispered as his dark eyes snaked up her legs, brushed her hips, and finally lingered on her mouth. Desire streaked through her body and settled into the pit of her belly.
“Jewel.” He tested her name on his lips, and she trembled under his intense regard. “Just what do I get out of his deal?”
She dropped her feet to the planks with a thud and leaned forwards on her elbows. “Blunt, and lots
of it.”
He leaned closer meeting her halfway across the desktop. “I have blunt, and lots of it.”
Standing until they were nose to nose, Jewel offered, “I can give you more.”
“I don’t want more.”
“Then what do you want?”
The question hung between them, unanswered, lingering within the hush of the cabin. Silence, utter stillness, filled the cabin. A sense of anticipation grew inside her. “There are a lot of things I want...” he whispered. His breath brushed against her face, and she shivered. “But I’m not taking you to London. For any amount of money.”
She leaned back, the line of her lips thinning. “Why not?”
Whitton couldn’t turn her down.
He whirled and headed for the door. Panic seized her as she raced after him, stopping him with her palms to his chest. “Wait! Just listen to me.”
The muscles in his chest flexed under her palms, and suddenly very aware of how close he stood, Jewel dropped her hands and took a step back. “I need to get to England to...” Her mind worked furiously to fill in the blank. “To meet my intended husband. He’s the buyer and will pick both myself and the shipment up at the docks. All I need is a ship to get me there.”
“So buy a ticket on a passenger ship, Miss Derington. My vessel is forbidden to females.”
Fury raced through her, but she tamped it back into submission. She had to convince him to take her with him. Her father’s life depended on her cunning ability to change the captain’s mind. “There are no vessels leaving in time, and I must get to London before Christmas to attend my wedding. Please, Captain, I promise you won’t even know I’m there.”
“Indeed?” He cocked a single, dark brow. “I find that hard to believe, Miss Derington. You don’t come across as the kind of woman a man can ignore.”
Heat crept into her face. “Perhaps not, but I can promise not to get in your way.”
“It’ll cost extra.”
“Name your price.”
Whitton’s gaze never wavered from her face. Those dark eyes traced her features, slowly, as if he was imprinting each detail to memory. She shivered despite the heat of the room. “I want the money up front and you in my bed for the entire voyage.”
Her gaze widened, and then her chin rose under his regard. He thought to scare her off. A smile of challenge slithered across her face. “Understood. You’ve just made yourself a deal, Captain.”
His jaw dropped in shock, and his gaze widened. Jewel took the opportunity and sealed the deal with a quick kiss. But when she moved away, he seized her by the upper arms and pulled her back, deepening the kiss. Jewel opened under the gentle assault and the flutter inside her belly flooded her with heat.
She broke the kiss and stumbled under weakened knees. Her hands clutched at his sleeves. The man was a master of seduction and the sudden urge to stay wrapped in his embrace assailed her. Alarmed, she backed away and wiped a hand across her mouth. She would have to be careful around this man. She couldn’t afford to let him get under her skin, especially when betraying him was a necessity.
“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Captain,” she gasped trying to catch her breath. “I’ll meet you at Tiger Head Cove in two days at daybreak. Don’t be late,” she said with a nod and tip of her hat.
Spinning on her heel, Jewel marched out of the hatch. She crossed the decks to the gangplank and made her way back to her carriage on the docks. “Little England,” as Barbados was known, lay silent as a sated whore. Waves washed against the docks with a whisper of wind and lights pattered across the surface of the ocean.
The only occupants on the vacant docks were a single drunk and the dual British guards posted at either end. Crickets broke the monotony of breaking waves with a twittering song which was her only companion as her boots thudded down the planks until she reached the carriage.
After slipping onto the velvet seats of the vehicle, she closed the door. Her gaze strayed to the ship’s rail where the dark silhouette stood watching her. She touched her lips briefly; the memory of Whitton’s kiss was permanently etched inside her mind. Settling back against the plush seats, she sighed and glanced at the figure across from her.
“He accepted?”
“Of course.”
A dark chuckle sounded from the shadows. “When do you leave?”
“In two days’ time, we’ll meet in Tiger Head Cove,” she answered. “I’ll need the money before then.”
“You’ll get your money in time.” Commander Blythe leaned forward. “How did you convince him?”
Jewel jerked up in response to his question. “Does it matter? The deed is done. I’ll deliver him to the designated spot, and you’ll hand my father back over to me as planned.”
The commander nodded. “You would be wise not to doubt my word, Derington. Your business operations here in Barbados would quickly come to an end the moment your contacts realized they had been dealing with a woman for the last three years instead of your father. I would hate to see such a prosperous business fail due to such an inconsequential reason.”
Jewel ground her jaw together. “You keep your end of the bargain, Blythe, and I’ll keep mine. Until then, kindly remove yourself from my presence.”
The commander laughed and slid across the seats to the opposite door. He opened it but hesitated. “He’d better make an appearance, Derington, or you will find yourself preparing for your father’s funeral earlier than you had first imagined. Until then, I bid you good day.”
The commander disappeared into the shadows in a flurry of dark coats, and she glanced back at the ship’s railing to find the captain had vanished as well. Alone, she tapped on the roof and fought off tears as the driver took off.
After making a deal with the devil, Jewel feared she was risking more than her business. Indeed, would she make it out of this alive?
~ * ~
Randall’s opinion of the whole affair soured on his tongue like the taste of old ale, and yet, the moment Jewel Derington arrived two days later in Tiger Head Cove, his distaste completely vanished.
Emerging from the crawling jungle vines like an ethereal siren as the morning mist evaporated under the sun’s rays, she traversed the pathway to him. Two men followed in her wake like sentinel guards. Wind surged through the cove and whipped her loose hair about like a dark, billowing cloak.
Again she wore men’s attire, only she’d foregone the cravat, waistcoat, and overcoat, wearing only a white linen shirt. The opened vee of the neck revealed creamy skin beneath.
Curious attire for a woman, even a woman living on a remote isle. He couldn’t fathom the circumstances that would require such a drastic measure.
She followed the path to the beach. Rand counted two flintlock pistols at her waist, and her bandolier sported at least two more, plus a small lady’s boxlock flintlock. A saber swung by her side, and he imagined several daggers were hidden amongst the folds of her clothes. Seeking and finding her every hiding spot suddenly appealed to him.
Heat pounded over him and sweat trickled down his temple as he waited. The screech of seagulls split the early morning air.
Jewel stumbled over the pebbled terrain and plunged face-first to the ground. Rand smothered a chuckle as she bounced back to her feet as if nothing had happened.
The trio came to a halt before him. “Right on time, Whitton. As usual,” Jewel said. Color still lingered in her cheeks from her fall, which endeared her to him. He took pity on her and decided to pretend as though he hadn’t noticed her recent plunge into the dirt.
“Can’t really say the same for you,” he said.
“I thought to keep you on your toes.” Jewel gave a sharp whistle and a multitude of wagons rumbled down the pathway, passed by them, and headed for the beaches below. Her guards stayed close to the goods, leaving her alone with him. “Shall we?” she asked, linking an arm through his. They ambled along the narrow, tree-lined path as his crewman loaded the barrels of sugar onto the rowboats to b
e transported to his ship. Their boots brushed past overhanging orange hibiscus petals and leafy ferns. “I’m looking forward to our trip, Captain. Are you?”
He glanced down at her and frowned. “Not particularly, Derington.”
“Surely, you’re not going to be a grouch for our entire journey?”
His frown deepened. “Considering I got swindled into this entire debacle...absolutely.”
She laughed, tossing back her head, and he focused on the long length of her neck. An urge to kiss the skin behind her ears seized him. He turned back toward his crew, ignoring the stab of desire.
“Just how did I swindle you, Captain? You’ve been doing business with me for years.”
“I had no idea you were a woman. I would have never agreed to work with you had I known.”
She paused on the pathway yards away from the beach and faced him. “Was it so bad, working with a female? Was it truly so different than working with a man? Tell me did I wail and cry until I got my way? Or perhaps I swooned at every given opportunity to tug at your heart strings. Perhaps you would’ve preferred it that way—then at least you’d have known how to deal with me better.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Her jaw clenched tightly. “You never realized you were working with a female because I’ve run this business and our deals exactly as a man would. You’ve had no complaints about our previous transactions, and don’t give me any lines about silly superstitions and females aboard ships. I’m a businesswoman, Whitton. And a damn good one. I took a failing business out from under my father and made it into a thriving one in less than three years. If you have an objection to my gender, then feel free never to do business with me again. For I assure you, you will never again find another supplier with better prices than mine.”
He slapped his mouth closed and ground his jaw. The screech of a Macaw split the air as his hand tightened briefly atop hers. “Do not forget for a second that your business is flourishing because of my help. I made J. Derington. Male or female matters little to me, but honesty does. I’m the best in this business, and I’m fairly certain your competitors know it.”
Summons From the Castle, Regency Christmas Summons Collection 3 Page 7