Runaway was cantering over the bridge as Nathan drew his captive into an upright position. She promptly spat in his face, but he would not let his temper snap. "Try to act like a woman, not a brat," he advised coolly. "We have a long ride ahead."
"This time you have gone too far. When we reach France, I shall tell my father, and then you'll be sorry you didn't listen to me."
"Oh, we're not going to France."
"London, then!" Adrienne snapped.
"No, not London either."
Her sense of panic mounted. "Where, then?"
"I'm not ready to divulge that information yet, my dear chit. Just relax and enjoy the night air."
"I am going to kill you," Adrienne ground out, but her words were drowned out by the sound of Runaway's hoof-beats. They had gained the south road, and the stallion stretched out his legs in an even gallop.
Above Adrienne's head, Nathan Raveneau smiled grimly to himself. She had a lot of surprises in store, and he doubted that she'd be pleased by any of them.
* * *
Morning was breaking when the stallion and his two riders reached the outskirts of Southampton.
"Just a little farther, Runaway," Nathan soothed, stroking his neck. "We're nearly there."
Adrienne awoke, aching all over and immediately craving a bath. It seemed that her entire body was bruised and dusty. "Have we reached our destination?"
"The land portion is nearly over. We're going just below Southampton, to a tiny place called Hill Head. Soon enough we'll be able to get some rest."
"I must say, I'm fed up with your air of mystery! It's my life you're trifling with, and I don't appreciate your highhandedness one bit!" She wriggled in front of him, trying to achieve a measure of comfort.
"Hold still before you send us both into the road," he warned.
Adrienne craned her neck to look at him, and suddenly it dawned on her that something was missing. "Where are your spectacles? How is it that you can see?"
"Actually... I don't wear spectacles."
They reached the top of a hill overlooking the jade waters of the Solent, which separated the mainland from the Isle of Wight. As they descended into the tiny village of Hill Head, Adrienne was distracted from the beauty of her new, dawn-gilded surroundings by Nathan's admission. If he didn't actually need to wear spectacles, why then had he done so for many weeks? Deep inside, she had always sensed that he was not who he pretended to be, but now that stranger was holding her captive!
Her voice was more hesitant than before as she asked, "Has it all been a masquerade?"
"I suppose you could say that."
Adrienne's heart thudded. "Who are you, then?"
He was looking around as they came up in front of an old Tudor inn called The Anchor. "I'd really rather not discuss it at the moment. I'm looking for Dickie, the butcher's son. Do you remember him?"
Always, she had trusted him, in spite of everything. Had she been right? "What would Dickie be doing here?"
"I sent him ahead to make the arrangements for us. Ah, good, there he is!"
The lad emerged from the inn in the company of a short, redheaded fellow who looked oddly familiar to Adrienne. As soon as he called a greeting, she remembered. "Look! It's your cousin!"
"What? Oh, him. No, he's not my cousin."
"Have you spoken one true word since the moment we first met?" Her voice rose with frustration.
Nathan was jumping to the ground. As he reached up to help Adrienne down, he held her close to him and gazed into her uncertain green eyes. "Adrienne, you already know everything about me that really matters. As for the rest, the answers you seek will have to wait a bit. If it's any comfort, your father knows all about me." He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and smiled.
It was maddening to feel herself succumb to his spell, as always. The redheaded man was watching them with a knowing look in his eye, and it felt like a slap in the face to Adrienne. "I'll thank you to keep your distance, sir!" she told Nathan tartly. "Believe it or not, I am well able to resist your conceited attempts to charm me!"
His eyes widened, and then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Of course you are, my little spitfire!"
Zachary Minter sidled up beside them and winked at Adrienne. "Well, well, I think I am going to like you, Miss Beauvisage!"
"If I tell you that I am being abducted against my will, would you help me to escape from this brute?"
His face fell. "Oh." Zach turned quizzical eyes on his oldest friend. "Is she having me on?"
"See here," Nathan thundered, "I must ask Miss Beauvisage to stop these stalling tactics, and I must ask Minter to stop making foolish remarks! I am the captain, I'm tired, and I want to get on with the day's plans!"
"Captain of what?" Adrienne exclaimed.
"Just be silent until I tell you to speak!"
"Oh, guv'nor," Zach protested, "that's a bit harsh, isn't it?"
Nathan ignored him and turned to Dickie, smiling at the lad with an effort. "Do, please, pardon my friends. Miss Beauvisage has been without sleep, and she's not herself. Now then, Dickie, I want to thank you for your help; we couldn't have done it without you."
"My pleasure, sir!"
"I want to make a present to you of this beautiful stallion called Runaway. Will you give me your word to treat him with the utmost care? Here, take these guineas and spend some on yourself, and keep the rest to pay for his food."
Dickie's eyes shone with wonder. "It's a fortune! Me grandfather has a fine farm just outside of Winchester, sir. I can stable him there and visit every day. Would that be good enough?"
"Perfect." He ruffled the boy's hair. "Stop at the coaching inn a ways up the road and have Runaway watered and fed. And buy yourself a hot breakfast. Godspeed."
When Dickie had ridden away, up the cobbled street on the stallion's back, Nathan turned toward the water with a bittersweet sigh. "If there had been a way to take Runaway with us, so he'd be comfortable, I would have done it. I love that horse."
"You did the right thing," Zach assured him. "Now then, let's go. The long boat is waiting at the dock, and your crew is frothing at the mouth to see you, Captain!"
"God, what a horrific thought."
Adrienne had decided to keep quiet, to just listen and watch. Since Nathan wouldn't tell her anything anyway, she would probably learn more through careful observation. Still, the urge to ask about the ship and its destination was strong.
What sort of power had her father bestowed on this man? How could Nathan possibly presume to carry her off to an unknown destination against her will?
If she had thought it would do a bit of good to ask him, she would have done so.
Zachary Minter was kind to her as they rowed in the direction of a magnificently rakish packet that swayed gently in the ruffled waters. The ship was a stirring sight, particularly for someone like Adrienne who so keenly adored adventure and romance. A vessel like that was the stuff of her dreams.
"We aren't going to that ship, are we?"
It was Zach who puffed out his chest and answered, "Yes indeed, Miss Beauvisage, that is the Golden Eagle, and I am her first mate. I couldn't be prouder of my association with this ship and Captain Raveneau."
"Who is Captain Raveneau?"
Nathan threw the smaller man a menacing glance.
"Uh..." He cleared his throat. "That is, actually, my name."
They were drawing alongside the sharp hull, and a rope ladder was lowered. Stunned to the point of numbness, Adrienne said nothing but let the men help her ascend. Zach went first, and Nathan came behind, both watching for any misstep she might make, given her attire. However, she made the climb safely and swung her slim legs over the rail.
The crew was assembled on the quarterdeck, each man neatly outfitted and standing at attention. It was evident, even to Adrienne, that they were overjoyed to have their captain back on board. Nathan shook hands with each man, pausing to make a personal comment that let the seaman know that
he remembered and valued him.
Finally, when the greetings were finished, Captain Raveneau stood before the crew and said, "I cannot express the joy I feel this morning. During my weeks away, I have realized as never before how closely bound I am to this ship, you men, and this way of life. The prospect of a good long ocean voyage fills me with pleasure. Are you all ready?"
As one, they shouted, "Yes, Captain!"
"Good. Oh, by the way, this is Miss Beauvisage. She'll be sailing with us, and I expect every one of you to treat her with unfailing courtesy and respect. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Captain!" All the men were smiling from ear to ear.
"I suggest that we prepare to set sail, then. I am going below, and Mr. Minter will carry on." Nathan paused then and whispered something in Minter's ear before leading his captive below.
The atmosphere on the ship was tremendously stimulating for Adrienne. As she followed him toward the hatch that would take them to the berth deck, she decided that there really wasn't any adventure as thrilling as a sea voyage. She'd sailed on handsome ships like this before, but the captain had been her uncle or her father... not the mysterious Raveneau. Even his corrected name was provocative. The notion that she might not know what to expect, now that Nathan had stripped away his disguise, sent a chill through her.
Still, Adrienne couldn't let him know any of this.
"Mind your head coming down the ladder," he cautioned before jumping to the gangway below. "It's dark."
"Are you taking me to the hold? Will I be clapped in irons?"
Raveneau laughed. "Not at all." He led the way along the shadowed passageway, past the galley and the crew's quarters.
"The Golden Eagle is bright and shining in spite of your absence, Captain!" She ran a finger over the oiled teak bulkhead and a polished brass railing. "Perhaps they don't need you after all."
"In case you were not aware of it, ships' captains have more important functions than overseeing the housekeeping," he replied in astringent tones. "And Minter knows what my standards are. He's a sterner taskmaster than he looks." After passing the galley and the crew's quarters, he paused in front of a paneled door. "Well, here's your new home—at least for a few weeks."
Adrienne stared at the spacious cabin revealed when he threw open the door. "But—these are your quarters!" Awash with sunshine that poured through the transom, the built-in carved bunk was big enough to sleep two comfortably, and the other furnishings were handsome. Slowly she went forward and ran her hands over the dark wood of the table that folded down from the wall, the heavy chairs, and the specially made chests that held all of Nathan's personal belongings and navigating gear.
"All the furnishings are made of Barbadian mahogany," he explained.
Questions crowded inside her. Had she known him at all, truly, during their weeks at Harms Castle? But she bit her tongue, remembering that he couldn't think he'd won. "You are so arrogant! How can you imagine that I would care about such matters at a time when I have no control at all over my destiny? I have been abducted and dragged over the countryside, through the night, on horseback, and now you have taken me to sea and locked me in your private cabin—for God knows what purpose!" Warming to the drama, Adrienne paced back and forth in her tattered gown, eyes ablaze. She waved a fist at him. "Sir Pirate, I demand that you release me!"
He dropped into a sturdy bowback chair, pulled off his boots, and rubbed his eyes. "Why don't you sit down and rest for a while?" Then, unfastening the latch that secured a deep drawer, he opened it and took out a bottle of cognac and a pewter cup. "You'll pardon me, I hope. It's early, but then I haven't been to bed."
Adrienne watched him pour a small portion and drink. "Rude. You're so rude! Will you not offer me a drop?" When he shrugged and proffered his cup to her, she marched over, took it, and swallowed. The liquor didn't burn as badly as she'd imagined it would. In fact, the warmth that spread through her body was soothing.
"Have a care. Too much and you'll be sick." Nathan caught her arm and drew her into the chair opposite his. "Minter's arranging for us both to have hot baths as soon as possible. Don't worry." He held up a defensive hand. "I'll take mine in the galley."
"Where are you going to sleep?" Adrienne spoke innocently, then watched as an unnerving glint crept into his aquamarine eyes. "You wouldn't dare! I forbid it!"
This made him laugh again. "Do you? Who bestowed such power on you? My dear, I hate to spoil your fantasy, but times have changed. No longer am I the hired lackey, the bourgeois oaf who could find nothing better to do with my time than traipse after you and Lady Thomasina. On this ship I am in command, and you must do my bidding."
The familiar tingling started at the base of her neck. Still, she glowered at him. "One would think that simple breeding would dictate that you—"
"Give up my cabin? You jest, Miss Beau. But, of course, if you would prefer to sleep with the rest of the crew...?"
"There must be somewhere else!"
"If there were, you would be there. Do you imagine that I am sharing my only private space by choice?"
"Take me home then! To France!"
"If you continue this campaign to try my patience, I may. We'll discuss all of that in greater depth after we have both washed and rested." Nathan stood up to go in search of Minter. "You see, I not only don't have time to go cavorting across France with you, I gave my word to your father that I would take care of you until your twenty-first birthday. We have an agreement, and I intend to keep my part of it."
"But why? If you explain to him the circumstances—"
Minter, Crenshaw, and a procession of lowly seamen filed in then. Two carried a large tin bathtub while the others lugged buckets of steaming water. Raveneau watched them from the doorway, conscious of Adrienne's question hanging in the air. He met her eyes over the heads of his crew members and flicked both brows up. "Let's just say that the reward for me is great enough to persuade me to put up with you, dear chit."
For once she failed to respond.
* * *
It was the best bath Adrienne had had in weeks, perhaps since the last time she'd gone home to Chateau du Soleil. To soak in a big tub was heaven, and there was plenty of hot water and a lovely piece of lilac-scented soap. Adrienne scrubbed every inch of her body, then washed her hair, ducking under to rinse away the froth. While submerged, she blew bubbles. When she finally popped out, hair and water streamed over her face and down her breasts.
"You scared the devil out of me!" Nathan Raveneau stood over the bathtub, freshly washed and dressed and looking as if he'd seen a ghost. "I was about to reach in and grab whatever I could find of you! What the devil were you doing in there?"
Belatedly Adrienne put a hand over each wet, round breast. "I was... playing. Like a fish."
"Oh, for God's sake!" He retraced his steps to the doorway and gathered a pile of lacy clothes off the floor. The diversion provided a good opportunity to catch his breath, for even he had been caught off guard by the sudden attack of panic.
"I won't be made to feel guilty for frightening you, since you had no right to come in while I was in the bath—naked, after all!"
Nathan stalked back, towering over her, a bundle of feminine garments spilling awkwardly from his arms. "I'll have you know that I knocked first. When you didn't answer, I called to you, then only opened the door an inch or two. Can you imagine my reaction when I saw no sign of you in the bathtub and bubbles rising in the water?" He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw for emphasis.
"I suppose I can, since you wouldn't get your fantastic reward from Papa if I drowned!" Her catlike green eyes strayed to the gowns he carried. "You make rather a silly sight with all that muslin and lace framing your face, sir. Before you leave me, perhaps you should explain."
"I brought you some clothing that ought to fit. If you think me too silly, I can toss them out and you can wear the gown you arrived in—"
"No!" Chilled by now, Adrienne slid down in the tub. It was faintly gratifying to
note that Nathan's eyes skimmed the water, searching for a blurry glimpse of her nakedness. "Put them on the bed. Thanks to my abrupt departure from Harms Castle, I own less than a beggar!"
Nathan dropped the clothing on the bed on his way to the door. There he glanced back and said in parting, "You know that you're a baggage, don't you?"
"Of course." In spite of herself, Adrienne gave him a spellbinding smile.
"They're cooking a meal for us. I'll join you shortly to eat, and then I intend to sleep, possibly until tomorrow."
When he had closed the door, Adrienne got out of the bath and dried herself thoroughly. Her skin felt silky and her hair luxuriant as it fell over her back in a damp mass of chestnut curls. The clothing beckoned from the bed, and she examined each garment with mounting curiosity. There were gowns of soft muslin and silk, spencers and cashmere shawls and gauze scarves, and the underclothes were sensuously exquisite. Adrienne's eyes widened as she found beautiful petticoats, chemisettes, white cambric pantalettes, and silk stockings of the finest quality. Whoever had owned them had confidence in her body, for the garments—while flawless in taste and quality—were designed to display every inch of their owner's charms.
Who had left these clothes behind with Nathan? A spark of jealousy caught fire in Adrienne's heart. Had he had this wardrobe made for his lover? Her cheeks flamed hotter with each thought.
Slowly she donned fragile pantalettes and a stylishly simple round gown of gauzy cream muslin. It dipped low, revealing half her breasts, with only some lace edging to distract the eye. The morning sun was warm, and Adrienne decided to go without a fichu. Dressed, she glanced at the other garments on the bed and imagined another woman wearing them, clinging to Nathan and enjoying the admiring caress of his gaze. Her heart beat faster.
Adrienne's hair was still damp and her cheeks pink when Nathan returned. While stewards set a table and carried in the meal, she noticed the change in his own garb. No longer did he wear frayed clothes that looked as if they'd been in his wardrobe for a decade. Now his shirt was snow-white linen that set off an expression more relaxed and confident than Adrienne had ever seen on him. Gone were the old-fashioned breeches, replaced by sleek nankeen pantaloons that were the color of fine champagne. His freshly washed hair gleamed blue-black in the wide beam of sunlight.
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