Lucas searched for his patience and smiled in what he hoped was a conciliatory manner. “It’s late,” he said, “and the men have duties,” he added for good measure with a pointed look around the room.
“Psh,” she scoffed, waving her arm around. “The men are having a wonderful time. They work hard enough. They deserve it. Besides,” she continued, getting into her stride, “not everyone is here. Some are still at their posts, so no need to have a tantrum.”
A gasp this time from their avid audience.
Lucas clenched his teeth and prayed for deliverance from difficult women in their cups.
“Anna,” he said more firmly this time. “I am the captain of this ship. And the men have a couple of days left until we are at port, and they can enjoy themselves as much as they would like.”
“You are the captain of the men, Lucas,” she responded mutinously. “And I am not a man.”
“Believe me, sweetheart,” he answered now with a grin, “I know you are no man.”
The crew laughed and whistled, and Anna glared at them all, looking mortally wounded.
She took a deep breath, and it looked as though she were building up to being high up in the boughs.
“Well—” she started indignantly.
But Lucas had had enough.
Without another word, he closed the distance between them and reached up and hauled her over his shoulder in one swift move.
The cheers from his crew were deafening.
“Back to work!” he shouted over his shoulder as he left them.
“Lucas Townsend! Put me down this instant!” Anna was screeching, kicking her legs and punching his back.
She might as well have been tickling him with feathers for all the impact her fists had.
When they finally reached the privacy of his cabin, Lucas entered and kicked the door shut behind him. Only then did he put her on her feet.
“How dare you?” she gasped, her deep golden eyes spitting fire.
“How dare I what?” he retorted, his own temper not exactly cool in the face of her unreasonableness. “How dare I stop you from downing another bottle of gin? How dare I save you from a pounding head in the morning?”
“Yes!” she screeched. “Yes, to both of those things. If I decide to swim in gin, it is none of your business!”
“My business,” he said through gritted teeth, “is keeping you safe on this ship. Keeping you well. Making sure that when your brother follows you — and he will follow you — he finds you in one piece. Not like some drunken lightskirt who dances on tables in a room full of men.”
Anna gasped at his words, and he immediately regretted them.
How could he tell her that she had, once again, somehow become so important to him that even the idea of any harm coming to her nearly killed him?
“Anna, I didn’t—”
“You meant it.” She cut off what he was about to say as if she had read his mind. “You meant it because, no matter what I do, how I behave, you find me lacking.”
“No.” He immediately denied the claim, but she was either past listening to him or unwilling to allow him to interrupt.
“Well, you can think what you like of me, Lucas Townsend. But I will not be controlled by another man, do you hear? So…” She stepped forward and jabbed him in the chest. “…you can just find another woman to bully and order about the place. I will drink what I like and do what I like, and it will be none of your concern.”
He shouldn’t let her words get to him. He really shouldn’t. She was foxed and likely didn’t mean any of it.
Though, he had to admit, she didn’t seem particularly drunk.
“How much did you drink?” he asked, and she actually growled in frustration.
“You’re not listening to a bloody word I’m saying!” she yelled. She swore. “For your information, I had two drinks and no more.”
Lucas raised a brow in disbelief.
“Don’t look at me like that!” she shouted. “I am not drunk. It didn’t agree with me.”
Lucas had to bite the inside of his gum to stop from laughing.
He could only imagine her face when she tasted the strong brew. Sailor’s grog was notoriously not for the faint-hearted.
“Are you laughing at me?” she growled.
“Of course not. I am just glad you are well,” he responded calmly, hoping to diffuse the atmosphere.
Anna gave an extremely unladylike snort.
“Your audacity astounds me,” she bit out. “Your faux concern is neither needed nor wanted.”
“It is not faux concern,” he answered, his temper once again igniting. “For God’s sake, Anna. Do you think I want to see anything happen to you? It is my job to protect you.”
Anna rolled her eyes, and his temper flared further still.
“I care about you, dammit!” He raised his own voice.
“You had your chance to care about me!” she screeched back.
He resisted the urge to cover his ears. Somehow, he doubted that would go down well with her.
“And you lost it again when you left me waiting for you under that stupid tree.”
The silence after her outburst was deafening.
Lucas was so annoyed that it took a moment for her words to register. And when they did, the shock, the dawning horror sent him reeling.
“What did you say?” he asked, anger forgotten in light of what she had said.
If it’s true… if she really had been there, waiting…
“You heard me,” Anna snapped, seemingly unaware that her words had shook him to his core. “You cannot pretend to really care, Lucas. I thought perhaps you might, but I was fooled by you once before, wasn’t I?”
“Anna,” he managed past the sudden lump in his throat.
Lucas stepped forward and clasped her shoulders, peering into her eyes, searching for a truth that would change everything.
“What are you talking about?”
Anna frowned, no doubt confused by the change in him. “Do you really want me to spell it out?” she choked out, and he watched as her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
She may not be drunk, but the alcohol had obviously loosened her tongue and heightened her emotions.
“Ever since I got on this ship, I have been trying to get you to care about me again, to remember that you once did care about me. But what is the point? You didn’t love me enough to stay with me then. Why would now be any different? And I’m tired of it. When you left me that night, that should have been the end of things, but my foolish heart has never stopped loving you. And you’ll never stop hurting me.”
He knew. With a sickening dread, he knew what she was saying was true.
But he still needed to hear the words.
“You wanted to marry me? Back then?”
She looked at him as though he had run mad, which he very nearly had.
“Of course I wanted to marry you,” she said with a sob. “That’s why I stayed under that blasted tree all night. And you never came for me.”
Her tears fell freely, and all he could do was hold her, even as she resisted him at first.
But after a moment the fight went out of her, and she sobbed into his collar.
For his own part, all Lucas could continue to do was stand there and let her cry.
With one little statement, everything had changed. And he had no idea what it meant for them.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ANNA SQUINTED AS the harsh sunlight glared down at her.
Her head was pounding, and her mouth felt dry as a desert.
But whether it was from the grog Lucas was so disapproving of or the tears she had given rein to last night, she couldn’t be sure.
She sat up and started when she saw Lucas standing still as a statue, gazing out the porthole.
Anna didn’t know what to say, how to act.
Last night had been one of the worst of her life. And she was thoroughly ashamed of herself.
They had decided
that they would leave the past in the past, yet she had flung it at him, used it as a weapon because she was angry at his censure.
She watched him warily.
He was fully dressed, and Anna didn’t remember him climbing into the bunk last night. She reached out a hand and felt the covers beside her. They were cool to the touch, so he’d either stayed up all night or gotten up hours ago.
The clock on his desk showed that the hour was still early.
He hadn’t slept. Anna felt a pang of guilt at that. Lucas was a busy man and he needed his rest.
Last night, she had cried for what felt like hours. Years of heartache seemed to have reared their heads and spilled from her eyes.
When her sobs had finally quietened, he had lifted her without a word to the bed.
Anna had felt too raw to even argue. She had turned away from him and buried her face in the pillow, wishing for the first time that she was back in England.
Jonathan and Gabrielle would be back by now. The chances were that Evelyn and Andrew had returned to Town, too, once they’d received her missive.
She could be surrounded by family, people who loved her, and lick her wounds in peace.
Instead, she was stuck here.
Anna’s eyes moved to the table, and she saw, with some surprise, that a tray with tea and toast was sitting on it.
Lucas must have fetched it. Perhaps that was what had awakened her, his returning to the room.
Well, she couldn’t sit there all day.
Squaring her shoulders, Anna prepared for battle.
“Good morning,” she said softly.
Lucas spun around at her words, and Anna almost recoiled at the look in his eyes. Rarely had she seen a person look so desolate, so sad. In fact, the only times she had was years ago, from Evelyn when Andrew had been shot, and when Jonathan had believed Gabby was dead, before she’d returned to his life.
“Lucas?” she said hesitantly.
“I brought tea,” he said in a gruff voice, waving his hand toward the tray on the table.
It didn’t seem as though he would say anything else, so Anna stood from the bunk, shaking out her terribly creased dress as best she could.
Her head felt a little woolly, but she was pleased to note that, other than that, she felt fine. Physically, at least.
Anna poured tea into the cup, noting that there was only one. She supposed then that they wouldn’t be enjoying a cosy breakfast together.
Feeling more saddened by the thought than was remotely sensible, she sat at the table and sipped at the hot brew.
There was a knock on the door, and she looked at Lucas to see if he would be bothered by the interruption as he usually was when they were alone.
Instead, he walked to the door and opened it without comment.
Anna was surprised to see a few of the crewmen enter, carrying the tub and pails of water.
Each of them bid her a cheery good morning, and even as she returned the greetings, the joviality was jarring in light of what had happened between Lucas and her the night before.
When the tub was filled and the men had been seen to the door by Lucas, he turned back to face her. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said gruffly, still with that same dreadful look on his face.
“Lucas—” she tried again, hating whatever this was between them.
He didn’t respond, just walked out and quietly shut the door behind him.
Once again, Anna felt her eyes fill with tears.
Things had been so wonderful: her days filled with anticipation, her nights filled with him and the heights he could and did bring her to. And now, she felt as though she had lost him all over again.
A bath, her morning ablutions, and another cup of strong tea helped Anna feel slightly better a while later.
She’d dressed in a, lemon muslin, relatively clean compared to her other gown, and brushed out her hair then tied it into a simple plait with a lemon ribbon.
Donning a shawl, Anna was just preparing to leave the cabin and make her way to assist Frank, when the door opened again and Lucas stepped in.
This time, rather than look bleak, he looked fierce and determined, his eyes burning a blue fire, his jaw set.
Anna didn’t know what to say, so she merely stared at him, wondering at the change and hoping they could salvage something from this mess.
Lucas was gazing intently at her, almost glaring.
Is he angry? Is his anger preferable to his bleakness?
When she couldn’t bear it anymore, Anna decided to once more try to break the ice that had formed between them.
“Lucas, I—”
Her words seemed to set him in motion, and in one swift movement he was across the cabin, grasping her shoulders.
The air between them fairly crackled, and the atmosphere was so tense the words died in Anna’s throat.
There was a moment of complete, fraught stillness, before Lucas finally spoke. “Anna. I love you.”
Her whole world tilted on its axis as his words sank in.
And then he kissed her.
LUCAS’ HEAD WAS reeling with the consequences of what he’d just done, but with Anna in his arms and her lips so soft and pliant beneath his own, he couldn’t bring himself to care overly much.
All night he had thought about what she’d said, tried to think of some way to lessen the visceral pain ripping through him.
God.
What have I done?
All these years he’d hated her, or at least tried to.
The things he’d planned to do: leave her used and alone.
It turned his stomach.
He thought of his journals, even his most recent one, page after page of vitriol about this beautiful, caring, wonderful woman whom he had treated abhorrently.
The night of her family’s dinner, he’d insulted her in front of all her loved ones.
He felt sickened by it.
And humbled by her forgiveness.
For here she was, her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing her body to his, responding enthusiastically to his desperate kiss, and almost making him forget.
Almost.
With herculean effort, Lucas pulled away from her.
Anna gazed up at him, her eyes glazed and the colour of warm honey. They were also sparkling with unshed tears.
A cold dread settled into the pit of Lucas’ stomach.
Am I too late? Have I pushed her too far away for too long?
The idea that she would leave him, now that he knew something had gone horribly wrong for them, something that wasn’t her fault as he’d thought, was crippling.
But suddenly she smiled, and Lucas was able to draw breath again.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
So, of course, he had to kiss her again, pulling her so close to him he wasn’t sure where he ended and she began.
But, much as he could do this forever, and a whole lot more for that matter, they really needed to talk.
Once more pulling away from her — and this time actually stepping back so he wouldn’t be tempted by her warmth or the floral scent that seemed to surround her all the time — Lucas stared at her, not even knowing where to start.
“I don’t understand.” It was Anna who spoke first. “I thought, after what I said last night, you would be angry with me. I know we said we would leave the past behind, and it was silly of me to—”
“I haven’t left the past behind, Anna. I never have.”
She looked bewildered after his statement, and who could blame her?
It would seem that she’d spent the last eight years believing that he’d left her. That he’d never shown up that night under the oak tree.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
But the reason he hadn’t been there was because her father and Grant had had him beaten to a pulp and left for dead.
And it was time they both learned the truth.
Lucas gripped her hands.
“Anna, the reason I wasn’t there
that night was because your father and Peter Grant came to pay me a visit that day. They returned all my letters to me and showed me a note that they said came from you, telling me that you’d been toying with me. That you would never lower yourself to marry a shop boy.”
Anna gasped, the shock she felt evident in her eyes. And if Lucas had doubted her words last night, he couldn’t have then. She looked horrified. And it was genuine.
“Lucas, I would never—”
“I know,” he interrupted, desperately wanting her to forgive him for even believing it. “But, I was young, Anna. And I had never felt good enough for you. I knew what you were giving up to be with me.”
Anna was shaking her head, but he had to get this out. He had to tell her the truth that had been eating him alive for eight years.
Lucas swung away from her, not wanting her to see the vulnerability that was sure to be in his eyes.
“When they came with that letter, well, it was easy to believe. You did deserve so much better than me, Anna. You always have. You still do.”
She didn’t speak, and Lucas was terrified that if he turned around, she would be closed off to him. That her face would be filled with anger and disappointment in him.
Did I hurt her so terribly when I didn’t have faith in her love? Badly enough for her to never forgive me?
The feel of her hand on his back brought him round to face her once more.
“There was nobody better for me than you. Not ever. I stood under that tree for hours, terrified that something had befallen you. Then, terrified that you didn’t want me.”
Her voice hitched, and it twisted at his gut as though she’d run a dagger through him.
“I wanted to come and confront you. Hear it from your own lips,” he confessed.
“Then why didn’t you?” she cried. “For you would have seen me waiting for you, Lucas.”
The truth would hurt her. And he’d damned well hurt her enough. But if they were to sort their way through this mess, perhaps even find a way to have a future together, then they needed to be honest now, more than ever.
“I would have, but your father and his cronies made sure I wouldn’t be doing anything for quite some time.”
He could tell by the crease in her forehead that she didn’t understand.
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