If only Andrew had spied all he had glimpsed.
“She is not like most women.”
He understood that only too well. “No, she isn’t.”
“And she likes chess. What are your plans for her once we arrive in Boston?”
He knew what he would like to do with her and long before they reached Boston, but his honor wouldn’t allow it. “I will find her a chaperone—maybe my aunt—and pay for her passage back to England and her family.”
“She plans to sign on a ship and work her way there.”
He spun toward Andrew. “She what?” He whirled back when he realized he had released the wheel.
“She plans to—”
“Never mind. I heard you the first time. She can forget that idea. She is returning as a paying passenger. I will take her there myself if I have to.”
“Morgan, you can’t.” Worry and confusion tinted Andrew’s voice.
Andrew was a friend, but he would not take orders from him. “And why can’t I?”
“Because you are marrying Susan.”
Again he had forgotten her. “Of course.”
Andrew studied him with a furrowed brow and a frown. “Morgan, you seem different lately. Not like your normal self. Ever since we found Arianna hiding on the ship, you seem to have lost control of your emotions, like your temper.”
He couldn’t let Andrew know how he felt. He couldn’t make sense of it himself. With his fingers, he brushed back the hair resting on his forehead. “I am worried about Harry. This waiting is driving me crazy.”
Andrew laid his hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Shark will attack, and when he does, we will rescue your brother. I am sure he is fine. Go get something to eat. I’ll take over here. All I did today was sit in a cabin entertaining a young woman.”
Jealousy again sprang to the front of Morgan’s mind ready to devour any man who touched her. “How did you do that?” Did he really want to know?
“We played chess.”
“Is that all you did?” He trusted Andrew—that was why he sent him—but he was a single male with no attachments. His stomach tightened into a tight ball and his teeth clenched as he awaited his answer.
“You know me better than that. The girl is injured. But maybe in the future…” He shrugged. “We’ll see what develops. I could escort her to England and make sure she arrives safely.”
Morgan struggled with a reply. “I don’t want to trouble you. She is my responsibility.”
“It would be no trouble at all.”
The smile in Andrew’s voice clawed into him. He didn’t want Andrew to take her back. He wanted to do it. He wished to be the one to turn her over to her father. And yet, he couldn’t.
A war raged within his head.
“When we arrive in Boston, I will decide what is to be done. I do know Arianna’s scheme is out of the question. I intend to tell her so.”
Chapter Ten
Arianna thought she would be fine alone. She was so tired she believed she’d fall asleep as soon as Andrew left, but when she closed her eyes, Briggs and what he did to her replayed in her head and her eyes sprang open. Every little noise caused her to jump.
She leaned over like an old lady and dug through her bag she had laid on the floor until she found her old stuffed cat. She hugged it to her breast. He could scare away dreams of rats. Could he do the same for nightmares that featured rats of a human variety?
The door creaked open, and fear leaped into her chest. She had to stop this. She wasn’t one of those prim and proper misses afraid of her shadow.
Morgan appeared and tiptoed to his desk. Relief and a joy she had no control over swept through her. “You’re back.”
He glanced at her in surprise. “And you are awake. Mr. Markham said you were sleeping.” He sat, opened a drawer, pulled out a stack of papers, and began to peruse them.
Apparently he wasn’t as glad to see her as she was to see him. “I’m tired, but I can’t fall asleep.”
“I told him he shouldn’t have left you alone.”
He still wouldn’t look at her. “It’s not Andrew’s fault.”
His head jerked up, his face tight. “You refer to him by his Christian name?”
She swallowed. “I’m sorry. He said I could call him Andrew in private.”
Morgan hesitated and then as if coming to a decision, he nodded. He turned away from her again and rearranged the documents.
Why was he ignoring her?
“I came to inform you that when we reach Boston, you are returning to England as a paying passenger. You are not working on another ship.”
She stared at his profile. Where was the kind, understanding man that had taken care of her yesterday? “Yes, I am.”
He spun to face her. The anger that surfaced whenever she defied him spread over his features along with something else that quickly disappeared. Fear? Not Morgan. “Do I have to constantly remind you I am the captain and make all the decisions?”
“Once we leave this ship, you no longer have any power over me.” She carefully wiggled into a comfortable position. “Can we discuss this later? I really am tired.” The anxiety stored within her had fled as soon as he entered the room, leaving her limp, relaxed, and weary, even if he did try to run her life.
His anger seemed to vanish, and concern took its place. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. We can discuss this when you are better. Get some rest.”
As if he was disinterested in her, Morgan dragged a journal in front of him, picked up a quill, dipped it in ink, and began to write. She closed her eyes, but though she was physically exhausted, her mind was not. Thoughts of Morgan intruded. Her eyes popped open, and she peered at his rigid form. Why was he so stiff and unwelcoming? Where was the man who kissed her? “What are you writing?”
“An account of the day’s events.”
What had he done while she played chess and rested? He must be tired. He couldn’t have gotten much sleep last night. She remembered tender hands and soothing words calming her at various times after her ordeal. His eyes were closed when she awoke, but for how long, and he couldn’t have been comfortable sleeping in a chair. Maybe that was his problem and the reason for the way he acted.
“What happened today? I miss the outdoors. I hate being stuck in this stuffy cabin.”
He didn’t raise his head. “You are injured.”
“I know that and so does my body, but my mind has difficulty accepting it.” She lifted her hand and gently touched her face. “Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone to see the way I look.”
“Arianna, I told you before, you are beautiful. Go to sleep.” He continued to scribble.
Her heart sank at his impersonal tone. The first time he had spoken the words, she believed him, but now she knew he only muttered them to make her feel better. She clutched her stuffed cat tighter as she stared at his head bent over his journal. Morgan couldn’t even bear to look at her. Her eyes misted and blurred. How badly had Briggs disfigured her face? She wasn’t vain, but she didn’t want to repulse people either.
She sniffed back her tears. “Captain Danvers.” He stiffened slightly. “Do you have a mirror I might use?”
His dark brown eyes met hers and widened. “Are you crying?”
“No.” Wet trails marked her cheeks, and she brushed them away with the back of her hand as she gulped back a sob.
His face softened, and concern broke through his mask. “Yes, you are.” He stood and crossed the room. “Are you in pain?”
She turned to the wall. “N-no.”
“Then what is the matter?” He slid onto the edge of the mattress.
She didn’t answer. Arianna didn’t wish for anymore false compliments. She knew the truth.
He cupped one side of her face and eased it toward him.
“D-don’t. I don’t want you to look at me.”
Morgan’s brows lowered. “Why?” His gaze caressed her swollen features. “You are lovely.”
It was so ea
sy to believe. He really was convincing, and she longed to hold on to his words. Why did he lie?
“No, I’m not.” She sniffed. “But there is nothing anyone can do about it.” Her body hummed. She loved the feel of his hand on her skin. It banished the aching discomfort. “Go back to your work.”
“I am the one who gives the orders.” He smiled. The pads of his fingers lightly stroked her cheeks.
She closed her lazy lids over contented eyes.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No, you are making my face feel better.” His hand roamed to her forehead, her brows, her nose, and her lips.
And then the wonderful feelings disappeared. She almost groaned in disappointment and longed to ask for more until his lips skimmed hers, brushing back and forth. She luxuriated in the sizzle that sparked between them.
When they became firmer and more demanding, she matched them, overrun by desire. His tongue dove inside and dueled and sparred with hers while his hand with a touch ever so light kneaded her breasts, shooting a spear of fire to the area between her legs.
And then it vanished, replaced by his harsh breathing and hers.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He tormented her more with his constant rejection. “Go. I know you don’t want to be here.”
“I won’t leave you by yourself. Even though you deny it, you are still nervous when left alone. I see the anxiety in your eyes, and you stiffen anytime someone comes to the door.”
He spoke the truth. She couldn’t refute it. But he didn’t have to be the one to stay. “Send Andrew down if he isn’t busy.”
She didn’t want him. She wanted Morgan, but she wouldn’t force him to remain when it was clear this cabin was the last place he wished to be.
His hands tightened into fists. “Do you prefer Andrew?”
She hesitated and then spoke the truth. “No, but at least I don’t repulse him with my face as I do you.”
His brows arched. “Your face doesn’t repulse me.”
“Then why can’t you look at me? And when you kissed me, you pulled away.”
“Oh Arianna, I couldn’t look at you when I came in because I knew I would do what I eventually did. I tried to stay as far away from you as possible, but it didn’t work. You are injured, and I don’t want to hurt you further. I meant what I said; you are beautiful. The bruises and the swelling will disappear in a few days.”
She petted her stuffed cat, and her sagging spirits soared. “Do you really mean it?”
“I don’t lie, and please call me Morgan when we are together.”
She smiled.
****
He looked at the animal she embraced and wished he could take its place. “What is that?” he asked, ready to change the subject from his kissing her.
“My cat. He protects me at night. I’ve had him since I was a little girl.”
“What were you scared of?”
“Rats. When I was younger and sailed with my papa, my brothers thought it was fun to scare me with them.”
It surprised him an animal as small as a rat could frighten her. She was fearless. At least she had been until Briggs attacked her. She would be once again. Her anxiety at being left alone would pass once she was well.
His heart went out to her as he pictured a young, innocent girl terrorized by her older brothers. But isn’t that what siblings did? Only he hadn’t. He had protected his sisters, brother, and mother after his father had left them destitute and worked to earn enough money to support them.
He knew the feeling of being scared and the need to support a family, even though he was a child at the time. It was what terrorized Arianna. But she had a father and brothers who would always take care of her. From this point onward, he wanted her to experience only happiness. She needed his protection not his lust. And he couldn’t ruin her and then leave her, which is what he would have to do if he bedded her. Susan was his future.
He stood, crossed the room, and gazed out the window to the west. The sight he hoped to see painted the sky. “Arianna,” he said returning to her. “I want to show you something.” He scooped her into his arms and strode back. He couldn’t bear to release her, so he slid onto the window seat and cradled her on his lap. “It is a beautiful sunset. The red sky means it will be a nice day tomorrow.”
Her heat seeped into him. Her long neck with the mole below the earlobe tempted him. But he retained a firm grip on his emotions. He had already kissed her once. A dishonorable thing to do when her defenses were battered. Taking advantage of her condition was something his father would have done, and he didn’t want to be like that man in any way. “If you would like, in the morning, I will carry you up on deck where you can breathe the fresh air.”
She hesitated for a long moment. “That would be nice, but I don’t want anyone to see my face, and I just have your shirt on.”
“I will rig a private area on the quarterdeck where no one can stare at you. If you wear my coat over the shirt, it will conceal the upper part of your body, and I’ll wrap soft, woolen blankets around the lower half. I wouldn’t allow you on deck unless you were decently clad.”
“I am all too aware of that fact.”
Morgan didn’t want to part with her, yearned for her to remain in his embrace for the rest of the night, but she needed her sleep. He stood with her cradled in his arms, walked to his berth, and laid her down. “Go to sleep.”
She snuggled into the covers and closed her eyes.
He sat down and watched over her.
****
Morgan was good to his word, and for the next week, he brought her to the quarterdeck and sat her in an area enclosed on three sides by tarps where she could gaze out at the sea, smell the invigorating, salt air, and feel the wind blow against her face.
She was never by herself. At night, Andrew and Morgan ate with her and later entertained her until she fell asleep. When she awoke in the morning, Mark was sitting in the cabin.
Morgan made no more inappropriate advances, and they were never alone except when they slept, he in the hammock and she in the bed. He wouldn’t hear of the reverse. He seemed to be always pushing Andrew into her presence, and his first mate didn’t protest. Andrew was a nice man, but she didn’t possess the same feelings for him that she did for Morgan.
It was for the best Morgan had lost interest in her, although whenever he passed by and didn’t look or smile in her direction, sadness encompassed her heart. She loved how his hands caressed her skin, the smell and taste of him, his kindness when he knew she needed it most, and even their arguments, which had dwindled, but would probably begin again when she talked to him tonight about resuming her duties.
Her face was almost back to normal, and she no longer needed a person to stay with her. The fear that had taken hold after Briggs’ attack had slowly dissipated as she healed. She was once again self-sufficient and whole.
She gazed up at the men in the ratlines silhouetted against a darkening sky. How she would love to be among them. Since her bodice and skirt had been destroyed, she had donned her comfortable and useful pants and shirt, and Morgan hadn’t protested.
“Arianna, Captain Danvers wants you to go below. A storm is coming upon us fast. Mark will stay with you in the cabin.”
She jumped to her feet. “Andr— Mr. Markham, let me help. Captain Danvers will need all hands on deck.” She straightened and squared her shoulders. “I have returned to my original strength, and I’m going mad, sitting all day with nothing to do.”
“Arianna, it is not my decision. Captain Danvers ordered it, and I think it best.”
She refused to cower in the cabin while everyone else risked their lives to keep the brig afloat. “Then, I’ll speak with him about it.”
He shrugged. “You can try, but it won’t do any good.”
She scanned the deck and immediately spied him. He was the tallest person on the ship, but she could find him in a crowd of four hundred. Her gaze
always seized upon him, drawn by a force she couldn’t name. She recognized his endearing mannerisms, rigid carriage, and commanding movements.
Determined to make Morgan listen to her, she stalked up to him. “Captain Danvers.” With a frown, he turned from studying the sails to face her. “I wish to resume my duties.”
“Didn’t Mr. Markham relay my orders for you to go below? If not, I am telling you now, and I don’t want any arguments.” He spun from her as if she had already left, preparing the ship for the coming storm.
Did he think he could rid himself of her that easy? “Captain Danvers, you will need my help.” She spread her legs farther apart to brace herself as the brig climbed and then pitched over heightened swells. “I am fully recovered from my injuries.”
“Mark,” he yelled over the rising wind.
The boy appeared at once, his eyes shining with respect and admiration for his captain and ready to carry out his orders.
“Escort Arianna below and stay with her until the storm blows out.”
Mark’s face fell. She was sure he wanted to fight this storm along with the rest of the crew, not watch over a female. But he would obey orders. “Aye, Captain.”
“Morgan.”
He whipped his head around and glared at her.
She hadn’t meant to use his Christian name. It had slipped out with the desperation to make him listen. “I’m sorry. Captain Danvers, you need me.”
A myriad of emotions jostled in his dark, intense eyes before he quickly squashed them. “Mark, take her below, now.”
“But—”
Mark gripped her upper arm. “I have my orders, Arianna. Please come with me.”
Morgan walked away. He had commanded, and he expected her to comply. Forgotten. Not needed.
And as always, through her whole life, she would have to fight to prove she was worthy of notice, but she didn’t want Mark to be reprimanded for her disobedience, so she allowed him to lead her to the cabin.
****
Morgan’s gaze clung to Arianna’s straight back and the sway of her rounded hips in those damn pants as she marched away. Anger tightened every muscle in her, but he couldn’t battle the storm while he worried about her welfare. Cocooned in his cabin with Mark she would be safe unless the ship went down and then every life would be in peril. But he wouldn’t allow that to happen. He would not permit one man or woman beneath his protection to die.
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