“I am glad that you came with me,” she had whispered the previous night and he had felt as though all the breath had been knocked from his body when he had heard those words. After she had spoken he had waited to feel the familiar chafing of responsibility and the urge to be free. It had not happened. Hell, he was even beginning to like the thought of being with Joanna, and that was more frightening than the most dangerous physical adversity he had ever been in.
His body tightened with something that felt like tenderness. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he put out a hand to touch Joanna’s cheek.
He touched fur instead. Recoiling, Alex saw that Max had at some point insinuated himself between their bodies and was curled up in a warm, happy, snoring ball. The dog opened one eye, gave Alex a look of profound triumph and went back to sleep.
The bugle call sounded again, its note sharp and urgent. Something was wrong, Alex thought. He rolled out of the bunk and stood up, grabbing his clothes and dressing haphazardly. He could hear shouts from above now and the pounding of feet. Joanna had woken and was sitting up in the bunk, the covers clutched to her breast. She looked confused and sleepy and scared.
“Alex?” Her voice was blurred with sleep. “What is happening? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Alex said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.” He bent to give her a hasty kiss. Remembering that it took her about two hours to dress, he added, “Perhaps you should get up, though.”
He staggered up on deck and emptied a pail of cold water over his head. Dev, looking as fresh as a daisy, Alex thought sourly, pressed a beaker of cocoa into his hands.
“You’re too old to drink so much rum,” his cousin said unsympathetically. “You look like death. Or perhaps it is that you are too old to indulge in other excesses—”
“Enough,” Alex snapped. He looked across to where Owen Purchase was deep in conversation with the coxswain. “What’s the emergency?”
“Sea ice,” Dev said succinctly. “The wind turned a half hour ago and the ice is forcing us in to the shore.”
Alex walked across to the side. The wind was cold and keen today and the sky gray. He could see the difficulty; the northwesterly was forcing the slabs of ice ahead of it, pushing them toward the ship, fencing Sea Witch in against the rocky shoreline. A mere fifty yards to the west the water was clear, a mocking, shining path away from danger. But they could not reach it and within a half hour, he thought, they would either be completely trapped in the ice or they would be wrecked on the rocks.
“What do you think?” Purchase spoke urgently to him from close by.
“We don’t have any choice,” Alex said grimly. “If we wait, we’ll either run aground or be crushed.” He glanced across to the open sea. “We’ll have to cut our way through to open water and we’ll have to do it now.”
He heard the captain draw a sharp breath. “I’ve never done that before,” Purchase said. “It’s bloody dangerous. The ice is unstable—”
“I’ve done it before,” Alex said, “and it isn’t as dangerous as sitting here waiting to be shipwrecked.” He nodded to Dev. “Bring the saws.”
As Dev sped away, Alex turned to see that Joanna had come up on deck. He stifled a groan, wishing he had told her to stay in the cabin rather than get up and get dressed. He had no wish to deal with female hysterics at a time like this.
“Alex!” Joanna came across to him and put a hand on his arm. Her face was pale. “What is going on?”
“Nothing,” Alex said. “Go back below.”
He spoke abruptly and he saw Joanna’s chin come up and her face set into stubborn lines. There was a spark of anger and obstinacy in her blue eyes.
“No,” she said. “I shall not. Not until you tell me what is happening.”
“The ship is trapped in the ice, Lady Grant,” Purchase said. “Lord Grant is going to cut us a path through to the open sea.”
Joanna flicked a look at him then focused back on Alex’s face.
“Isn’t that rather dangerous?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Alex said. “It is. But if I don’t do it we will all perish.” He heard Purchase give a murmur of protest, not at the truth of his words but at the brutal way he had expressed himself.
Joanna’s face paled even further. Her eyes burned as bright blue as sapphires now. Alex watched her, waited.
“You might drown,” she said, and it was not a question. She looked again from him to Purchase and beyond them to the waiting crew: Dev with the ice saws, men with ropes and ladders. Alex saw her shiver as she picked up on the tension in the air. His blood beat hard with anticipation and the need to be gone, to get the job done.
“I had not thought that I would be a widow again so soon,” Joanna said. “It is not to my liking.” She grabbed Alex by the coat and pulled him close. Her breath warmed his lips.
“Be careful,” she said in a fierce whisper. There was something in her eyes that made his heart leap. She pressed a kiss on his cheek, released him and moved over to the rail, making it plain that she was prepared to stay there all day.
The men were grinning and Purchase gave him the ghost of a wink. “Seems you have something to come back for, Grant,” he said.
“Yes,” Alex said. He glanced across at Joanna. Someone had brought her a blanket and a cup of cocoa and she sat huddled up in a corner of the deck, a small but dignified figure. She was watching him. Something caught and burned inside him.
Something to live for…
For too long he had not believed there was anything truly worth living for.
Dev threw the rope ladder down and he went over the side.
JOANNA WAS COLDER THAN she had ever been in her life. She felt as though her hands, despite their fur-lined gloves, had been frozen to the ship’s rail like a bird on a twig. The chill was bone deep, enough to turn the blood cold.
She could not believe that the beautiful country she had fallen in love with the day before had turned into this spiteful, gray wilderness with a lowering sky and a biting wind edged with snow. Their progress out of the ice field had been tortuously slow. She had watched, her heart in her mouth, as Alex and Devlin had balanced on the ice floes, cutting what looked like a tiny clear path through the slabs that imprisoned them. As the water opened up, Owen Purchase eased the Sea Witch forward inch by slow inch, the sails trimmed to catch a breeze to help them whilst at the same time trying to make sure the wind did not drive them farther into a frozen wasteland. Every creak, every groan of the ship seemed magnified as the ice scored along their sides and closed in behind them as they passed. And always out of reach, the tantalizing clear blue ribbon of water that would see them to freedom.
“You have been out here all day,” Lottie scolded, appearing at one point in three layers of sealskin and with a bowl of hot broth for Joanna clasped firmly in her hands. “Come belowdecks before you catch an ague.”
“I cannot,” Joanna said, teeth chattering. “I need to know that Alex is safe.”
Lottie had gone away and Joanna had drunk the broth and tried to warm her hands on the bowl, and then, despite the cold, she thought she must have fallen into a doze, for she was not sure how much time passed. She was awoken by a grinding, splintering crash; the ship shuddered and then lurched forward as the wind cracked in the sails overhead, pulling them at last into the open sea. There was a shout from the bows, men were running, the rope ladder went down again and then Alex and Devlin were pulling themselves back over the side, and the crew were laughing and slapping them on the back as the ship turned into the wind and set a course north.
Joanna took a step forward, stumbling a little with cold and stiffness. Across the wide deck Alex saw her and stood quite still for a moment. Then he was beside her, grabbing her by the arms, fury in his eyes, but beneath it puzzlement and another emotion that made her heart miss a beat.
“Have you been out here all day?” he snapped.
His coat was soaking wet and ice-cold beneath Joanna’s fingers. There were snowfl
akes on his eyelashes.
“Yes,” Joanna said.
“You could have frozen to death!” Alex roared. A muscle was working in his jaw. “Have you no sense?”
“About as much as you,” Joanna said, “standing here berating me when you should be belowdecks getting out of those wet clothes.”
They stood staring at one another for a second in bafflement and anger, and then Alex grabbed her and kissed her so hard her head spun, then more gently, tenderly, the kiss melting into a conversation without words that made Joanna unutterably glad that she had not broken faith with him. When he let her go Alex kept hold of her hand, turning it against his heart. He did not say anything and he was still frowning, but he did not let her go.
Joanna felt icy cold and burning hot both at the same time, vibrantly alive, her emotions in turmoil. She knew she was falling in love with Alex. Her head had warned her against it but her heart had not been listening and had taken the leap. Even as she felt his fingers entwine with hers and watched the snowflakes melt against his cheek she felt herself sliding deeper, more helplessly in love.
He is another adventurer, whispered the voice in her head, and even though she knew Alex was not like David, she shivered. Not so long ago she had wanted him gone so that she could forget the wicked deception she was practicing on him. Now she ached for him to stay with her even though she was haunted each day by the knowledge that their marriage was based on a sham. She was trapped.
TWO DAYS LATER THEY SAILED into the shelter of Isfjorden.
“We shall be starting at seven tomorrow morning,” Alex said, drawing Joanna to one side after the customary evening dinner of stewed beef and biscuits. “The ice is too thick at present for us to sail into Bellsund Sound, so we will drop anchor here and travel overland.”
Joanna, he thought, looked distinctly displeased. “Seven o’clock?” she said, sighing. “To think that in London I rarely set foot out of bed before eleven!”
“I’m afraid that you will have to be a great deal more prompt than that tomorrow,” Alex said. “And you and Mrs. Cummings will have to travel in the supply cart. It will not be what you are accustomed to, but there are no carriages—and barely any roads—in Spitsbergen.”
“I shall ride,” Joanna contradicted him. “I have had the most perfect habit made for me in London and I do not intend to waste it. There are breeches so I can ride astride, and a fitted military-style jacket—” The rest of her description was totally lost on Alex, banished by the vision that her words had conjured up.
Joanna was going to be wearing breeches and riding astride?
In all his plans and thoughts about this trip and the difficulties he would encounter along the way, Alex had not calculated that there would be any fashion-induced ones. He looked at Joanna and tried to imagine the effect that her figure in a pair of breeches and tight jacket might have on Purchase’s crew. He was all too aware of the effect that the mere thought was having on him. For three nights he had slaked his lust in his wife’s bed and yet the desire he felt for her was not diminishing in any way. In fact, since the day she had stubbornly insisted on keeping watch whilst he and Dev had freed the ship from the ice, his need for her had been edged with something far deeper and more complicated. Even before that he had felt himself slipping into uncharted waters and had been powerless to prevent it. Now his need for her drove him to seek out her company even if it was only to take a turn about the deck together in fine weather, or to talk, or to play chess. She always beat him. He was resigned to it by now.
“I had better ask Purchase to send only those men with us who are old or infirm,” he said now. He looked at her and shook his head. “We shall see how long you can endure being in the saddle,” he added. “This isn’t like riding in Hyde Park, you know.”
Joanna arched her brows at him in a look of challenge he was beginning to know. “You said yourself that I was a country girl,” she said. “I’ll wager I can last as long in the saddle as you.”
“Fifty guineas says you shall not,” Alex said.
She turned and put both hands against his chest. “I’ll win,” she promised, smiling. “Again. You’ll see.”
The following morning Alex wished he had wagered on how long it would take Joanna to get ready rather than on whether she would be able to ride for the entire day. Purchase sounded reveille at six; an hour later there was no sign of either Joanna or Lottie Cummings.
“I do not suppose,” Alex said grimly to Dev, “that there is the slightest chance of Mrs. Cummings being ready to travel within another hour?”
“Not the slightest,” Dev said, grinning. “You had best call up reinforcements and send Frazer in.”
Lottie appeared within an hour and a half, and after waiting a further thirty minutes, Alex stormed down the companionway and into Joanna’s cabin without knocking.
And stopped dead.
His wife, her hair in one long thick plait, was sitting on the edge of the bunk wearing the most provocative outfit he had ever seen her in. Merely the sight of her perched there was sufficient to bring back heated images of every night they had spent together, enhanced now by her outrageous riding habit. Buff-colored pantaloons were molded to her shapely thighs. The navy-blue jacket was nipped in at the waist and seemed to strain over the curve of her breasts. Alex’s mouth went dry. His mind went completely blank. His body clenched.
“Am I late?” Joanna said anxiously, misreading his expression. “I am so sorry. I cannot get the boots on.”
She gestured toward a pair of shiny black hussar boots with jaunty tassels.
“It’s like trying to force a greased pig into a rabbit hutch,” Frazer said sourly from his place on the floor. “Cannot be done, my lord.”
Shaking his head, Alex got down on one knee and with much pushing and pulling he and his steward finally inserted Joanna into her boots.
“Even Mrs. Cummings was ready before you,” Alex said as he helped her to her feet. He looked at her. Now she was standing up, the outfit seemed even more outrageous than before, for the jacket was short and the pantaloons skimmed over the curve of her bottom. Rolling his eyes at Frazer and resisting the urge to cover her up with a blanket, Alex ushered her out of the cabin.
By the time Joanna had mounted the steps to the deck and then climbed down the side of the rope ladder into the longboat, it seemed that every sailor on the Sea Witch had found a reason to pause in their work and watch the disembarkation. It was fortunate, Alex thought grimly, that the sea was calm and the ladder was not rocking too violently, because at least the exercise was over relatively quickly even if it did leave him wishing to plant several men a facer for the way in which they were staring at his wife. Owen Purchase and Dev, barely able to hide their appreciation, rowed the longboat across to shore. Lottie, clearly envious of the attention Joanna was drawing, was pointedly ignoring Dev and made a big fuss about having to climb out on the shingle. She insisted that Purchase carry her up the beach to where the horses were waiting so that she did not splash her riding habit.
“What on earth is that?” she asked disagreeably, pointing at one of the shaggy ponies that the Russian Pomor guide had brought down to the beach for them. “It certainly isn’t a horse!”
“Highly bred horses would break their legs in this terrain,” Alex said, “whereas these tough little ponies are bred to it. Have you changed your mind about riding now, Mrs. Cummings?”
“No,” Lottie said hastily, giving Purchase a charming smile and pressing her body blatantly against his as he lifted her into the sidesaddle. “I want to see the country.”
“You will only see half the country if you ride sidesaddle, Lottie,” Joanna pointed out as Alex bent to give her a leg up. “Would you not prefer to try to ride astride?”
“Not on a horse, I thank you,” Lottie said, making Dev blush.
Joanna swung expertly up into the saddle, leaving Alex looking at Dev in blank astonishment. She took the reins from the guide and thanked him very prettily in Ru
ssian. Alex’s jaw almost hit the floor and the man’s face cracked into an appreciative smile.
Catching her husband’s look of utter incredulity, Joanna blushed. “Merryn taught me a few phrases of Russian before we left England,” she said. “I thought it would help. Though I’m not very good,” she added. “They probably will not understand me at all.”
Alex felt stunned. He also felt a little ashamed of himself that he had assumed Joanna to be so wrapped up in herself that she would not even think of learning the language. He saw Owen Purchase give Joanna a smile and a strange possessive pride and an equally strong jealousy gripped him like a vise. He brought his pony alongside hers, cutting the other man out.
They rode all day. The weather was fair, Spitsbergen looking as beautiful as Alex had ever seen it. The breeze was soft and from the south. Tiny yellow poppies grew through the black rocks.
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