Stormy Persuasion

by Johanna Lindsey

  “As I mentioned last night, Catherine has moods and isn’t always pleasant company,” Andrássy explained.

  And he didn’t want to subject his new family to that? Judith felt compelled to say, “I’ve seen her at her worst, but anyone with a severe headache can get snippy, myself included. Jack and I also had a nice conversation with her when she was feeling better.”

  “I wouldn’t call it nice,” Jack put in.

  “It wasn’t unpleasant,” Judith insisted.

  “Matter of opinion,” Jack mumbled for just her ears.

  James gave his daughter a quelling look before he said to Andrássy, “So you would describe your stepsister as hot-tempered? Many women are, including my Jack.”

  Jacqueline laughed, no doubt taking her father’s comment as a compliment. But Andrássy said, “I never thought of it that way, merely that she can be moody. A new home, a new father when she wasn’t reconciled to giving up finding her real father—it was a difficult time when she and her mother came to live with us.”

  “What happened to her father?” Katey asked.

  Judith stopped listening as the conversation turned to what Catherine had already told her and Jack. She hoped Jacqueline was noting, though, that the pair did pretty much have the same story, which made it even more believable. Who could make up something like that? But Nathan Tremayne came quickly to mind. He could. He seemed to be quite adept at tall tales, making himself sound like a hero instead of the criminal he actually was.

  She wondered if he had finished his job down in the hold. Likely no, since he probably wasn’t really a carpenter. Any man could wield a hammer, but did he actually have the skills to build a proper ring? Oh, God, she hoped her uncle and her father didn’t get hurt when they used the exercise ring and it fell apart beneath them.

  Why didn’t she just tell her father about the smuggler so Nathan would be spending the voyage in the brig where he belonged? She should never have agreed to a bargain with him, when it just gave him more time to get creative with his lies. Yet, if she didn’t have to keep him a secret from Jack, would she be quite this uneasy about it? And why the deuce did she want to come up with an excuse to leave the table so she could go down to the hold to check on him?

  She glanced across the table at Andrássy, who was saying, “It’s why she ran away so often when she was a child. She was trying to get back to America where she grew up, so she could look for her father.”

  “Instead of traveling all over the world looking for someone who could be long dead, why don’t you just marry her off?” Anthony suggested.

  “I would if I thought it would make her happy. But until this matter of her missing father is settled, I doubt she will ever be happy in a marriage.”

  “So you’re actually concerned about her happiness?” James asked.

  “Of course.” Andrássy seemed a little insulted to have been asked that. “The tantrums she had as a child were understandable. I don’t even mind her temper. As you say, it’s not something unique. Many women have one. It’s merely embarrassing when it erupts in public. That is all I wanted to warn you about, so you wouldn’t take offense if you witness any unpleasantness of that sort. Because of the fire, she has nothing and no one but me to depend on. But she is my burden, not yours.”

  “Are you going to rebuild?” Georgina asked.

  “Perhaps someday, but my wish is to return to Austria where I was schooled and continue my studies there. I paint.”

  “An artist?”

  “I dabble. I hope to do better one day. But I can do nothing with my life until I settle my stepsister’s.”

  “A burden like the one you’re shouldering can kill inspiration,” James said thoughtfully. “What I don’t understand is why you would go so far above and beyond when there isn’t even a blood tie between you. Don’t take offense, dear boy, but that smacks of coercion on her part. So I must ask, does she have some hold over you that you haven’t mentioned?”

  “James!” Georgina protested.

  But Andrássy actually chuckled. “I am glad you feel you can speak so plainly with me. But consider, I am the last of the Benedek line, but not the last of Maria’s line, and yet I would never have known that if Catherine hadn’t found my great-grandfather’s journal. So when she beseeched me to help her find her missing parent, I couldn’t in good conscience deny her when I was about to embark on a similar search myself. For family.” Andrássy looked around the table, a warm smile on his face. “You Malorys are so much more than I ever could have imagined. You’ve welcomed me without reservation.” Only Jacqueline looked a little guilty over that comment. “But my father made Catherine a member of my immediate family. Despite the turmoil, he never regretted doing that because her mother made him happy.”

  “Is it as simple as that? Obligation, responsibility, and a debt you feel you owe?”

  “Sounds like something that would rope you in, James,” Georgina said with a pointed look. “Oh, wait, it already did, or aren’t those the same reasons you agreed to help Gabrielle Brooks?”

  He chuckled. “Guilty.”

  “Not to mention, ending up in a pirate’s prison because of it.”

  “Point taken, George.”

  No one jumped in to explain that byplay to Andrássy, but then it was a touchy subject that the Andersons, wealthy shipbuilders and owners of a large merchant fleet, now had ex-pirates in the family on more than one shore. One long since retired (Georgina’s husband, James) and the other turned treasure hunter (Drew’s father-in-law, Nathan Brooks), but still, both guilty of wreaking havoc in their day.

  Judith steered the conversation back to Andrássy’s efforts to help his stepsister, telling him, “I think what you are doing is admirable. You’ve given Catherine hope, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I believe so, but I fear she has yet to learn patience.”

  Jacqueline opened her mouth, but Judy pinched her under the table, knowing that her cousin was about to say that they’d already experienced the woman’s impatience, and that she’d got it into her head that a Malory with Gypsy gifts could help her more than Andrássy could—which wasn’t going to happen and didn’t need to be discussed.

  Judith said to Andrássy, “It may not be a quick undertaking, but you may find that it changes her for the better. You might consider pausing your journey in Bridgeport to allow your sister to have a little fun before you continue on.” She stood up then. It was as good an opportunity as she was going to get to slip away before everyone else finished eating. “Now if you will all excuse me, I didn’t get as much rest today as Jack did. I’m rather tired.”

  “Of course, poppet,” Anthony said.

  But before Judith left, she leaned down and whispered in Jacqueline’s ear, “I got your foot out of your mouth. Don’t put it back in as soon as I leave.”

  Jack merely snorted.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Only two lanterns were left burning in the hold, both by the exercise ring, but Judith didn’t find Nathan there. The ring wasn’t finished but the platform was. The tarpaulin had even been tacked to it, and two of the four posts were secured to the corners. It only needed the other two posts and the ropes strung between them, so Judith figured he thought he could finish that quickly in the morning before James came down to inspect it.

  Judith was disappointed that Nathan had quit working for the day as this might well be her last chance to speak with him alone. She supposed she could ask him for instruction on some nautical matter during the voyage, maybe even get him up in the rigging where they could speak without being overheard. But then she’d have to wear those unflattering clothes Jack had had made for her, and besides, Jack would say that she could teach her anything she wanted to learn about sailing—unless Judith confessed her interest in Nathan. That wouldn’t be giving away the secret, would it? Course it wouldn’t. Once Jack got a look at the man, it would be blatantly obvious why Judy was interested in him.

  She might as well turn in for the night,
but she moved over to the ring to examine it first. She thought about climbing up on the platform to make sure its floor was as sturdy as it should be, but it was a bit too high off the floor for her, so she just pressed down on it with her palms.

  “Couldn’t stay away?”

  She swung around with a gasp. Nathan was sitting on the floor between two crates, one of which still had her coat draped over it. He was leaning back against the bulkhead, holding a plate in one hand and a fork in the other.

  She slowly walked over to him, noting that at least he had his shirt back on, and yet her heartbeat still accelerated. “I thought you’d gone.”

  “Only long enough to fetch some dinner. Damn fancy grub for a ship, too. Definitely not what we were served on the short trip from Hampshire to London.”

  “There probably wasn’t an actual cook aboard yet. The one we have now isn’t a seaman. My aunt and uncle sail with their own servants, most of whom boarded in London.”

  “All the luxuries of home, eh? But now I’m never going to be happy with my own cook again.”

  She smiled at his grumbling tone. “You actually have one? I thought smugglers only make short jaunts across the Channel and back, hardly long enough at sea to warrant needing a cook aboard.”

  “I wouldn’t know. But I’ll take your word for it, since you seem to know more about smuggling than I do. But have a seat. You can watch me eat while you tell me about my life.”

  Sarcasm, and quite blatant, too. Yet his tone was friendly, his lips even turned up in a grin. So he was merely teasing her again?

  “I came for my coat,” she said, though she sat down on top of it again anyway.

  “I was going to return it to you.”

  She raised a brow. “How, without giving away that I was down here?”

  “You don’t think I could have found you alone?”

  “Not when I’m with Jack most of the day and we’re with our family in the evenings, so, no, I don’t think so.”

  He chuckled. “I have a bed in the carpenter’s storeroom. Well, at the risk of stirring up a hornet’s nest, I’ll mention it’s just a cot.” He waited, but she wasn’t going to address the cot issue again and merely snorted at his assumption that she would. So he continued, “But I’ve claimed it as my own for a little privacy. You’re welcome to visit any night you feel like—”

  “Stop it. You might find this all very amusing, but you should recall, you still have a noose hanging over your head.”

  “Breaking a bargain? Really? Thought you nobles had more honor than that.”

  “It was a silly bargain—”

  “But it was struck—even sealed. Ah, there’s that blush I remember so well.”

  “You are insufferable.”

  “No, I just have a lot on my plate, including you. And if your word is as wishy-washy as a mood, then it’s not reliable, is it?”

  “I’m keeping it, but only for the duration of the voyage as we agreed.”

  “That wasn’t the stipulation.”

  “That was a foregone conclusion,” she stressed, not giving in on that point. “But don’t worry, you’ll have time to disappear after we dock.”

  “Think you’ll want me to by then?”

  The question implied they were going to get much more intimately acquainted. His tone had even dropped to a husky timbre! It jarred her and brought all sorts of questions to mind that she should be asking herself, not him. She was too attracted to this man and out of her depth to deal with it. It had held her back from doing what she should have done the moment she realized who he was. It had impelled her to strike the Bargain. But she couldn’t let that last question stand.

  “You and I won’t—”

  His short laugh cut her off. “I merely meant, by the time we dock you’ll be convinced that I’m innocent and not the blackguard you wrongly think I am.”

  Was she using her suspicion as an excuse to keep herself from giving in to this attraction? No, he was just good at stirring up doubt.

  She reminded him pertly, “Our bargain was for the truth. Do you even know how to tell it?”

  “Course I do, darlin’. But d’you know how to recognize it when you hear it?” Yet he didn’t wait for an answer, not that there was one when his tactics were so evasive. Instead, he got back to the subject he didn’t get to finish that morning. “So tell me how a woman gets a nickname like Jack?”

  “Because it’s not a nickname. It’s the name her father gave her at birth.”

  “Really?

  “Of course the fact that her maternal uncles, who James doesn’t like the least little bit, were all present at the birthing might have influenced his decision a tad, but he couldn’t be swayed to change it.”

  “He’s that stubborn?”

  Judith smiled. “Depends on who you ask, but in this case, he was absolutely inflexible. However, Jack’s mother, George, made sure—”

  “Good God, another woman with a man’s name?”

  “No, Georgina is her real name. James just calls her George. Always has, always will. But she made sure Jacqueline appeared on her daughter’s birth record. Nonetheless, among the family the name Jack had already stuck.”

  “I’m guessing that explains the odd name of this ship, The Maiden George?”

  “Yes, James’s original ship was named The Maiden Anne, but he sold her when he retired from the sea. This one he had built when Jack’s mother wanted to take Jack to Connecticut to see where she was born. An unnecessary expense, really, when George and her brothers own Skylark Shipping, which is a very large fleet of American merchant ships, and at least one of them is docked in England at any given time. But as I mentioned, my uncle doesn’t exactly like his five Anderson brothers-in-law. He refuses to sail on their vessels short of a dire emergency. And now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

  He stood up abruptly at the noise suddenly coming from the animals down at the end of the hold. She looked in that direction, too. Probably just a rat scurrying past them, or a cat on the prowl for one. But Nathan set his plate down on the other crate and went to investigate anyway.

  Not exactly adhering to the Bargain of tit for tat with questions, she noted with some annoyance, which she would point out when he came back. But he didn’t come back. . . .

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nathan didn’t expect to find anything in the back of the hold. He just didn’t want to lose his advantage in this bout of verbal sparring with Judith, which would have happened if she started interrogating him again so soon. He preferred to keep her distracted from the facts as long as possible, or at least until he could better ascertain her reaction to them.

  He hadn’t decided if he should appeal to her sympathy—if she had any—with some truths he could share? Or admit everything, including that he owned the house in Hampshire and had a pardon waiting for him? Unfortunately, he didn’t think she was likely to believe either. But if he told her too much and did convince her that he was innocent, their bargain would come to an end and he’d lose her company. And he liked her company. Liked teasing her, too. Liked the way her mouth pursed in annoyance. Liked the way her eyes could spark with anger or humor. Definitely liked the way she’d felt in his arms. Bleeding hell, there was nothing about her that he didn’t like—other than her stubborn insistence that he was a smuggler. Why was she so certain? What was he missing?

  He was jumped the moment he passed the crate where the man had been crouched in hiding, and it was his own damn fault for having his mind filled with Judith instead of the matter at hand. And it was no scrawny runt either that tackled him to the floor. He was nearly as big as Nathan. In the brief glimpse he’d caught of him, he’d seen a young man with queued-back blond hair and dark eyes, who was barefoot but not poorly clad in a shirt made of fine linen and a fancy gold-link chain at his neck. Nathan didn’t recognize him as a member of the crew, and he doubted one of the servants Judith had mentioned would attack him.

  The noise of their hard landing startled the chi
ckens into squawking and set one of the pigs squealing. Nathan was only startled for a moment before instinct kicked in. He rolled, taking the man with him, and got in one solid punch before he was thrust back and the man scrambled to his feet. But he didn’t run. He pulled a dagger from the back of his britches and took a swipe at Nathan just as Nathan got to his feet. He felt the sting of the blade on his chest, but didn’t look down to check the damage. His anger kicked in full force because of it.

  He’d never been in a knife fight before and had no weapon on him to counter it. He could have improvised with a hammer or a file, but his toolbox was too far away and he would likely get that dagger in his back if he ran for it. He positioned his arms instead to block the next swipe, but doubting that would be effective, he just tried to stay out of reach instead. But that wasn’t going to be possible for much longer.

  Weighing his options, he saw they were sorely lacking. Knock the dagger out of the man’s hand so he could have a fair fight with him, which he knew he could win, or send Judith for help if she hadn’t already run out of there. The second option didn’t appeal to him in the least, and he would be dead before assistance arrived. Then a third option slid across the floor and stopped near his feet. His hammer.

  The man spotted it, too, and quickly stepped forward with his dagger extended to move Nathan back from it. There was no time to think, but there was no way he was giving up the opportunity Judith had just given him. He turned his back on the man, dropped to the floor, and, bracing his hands on the floor, kicked backward. He didn’t connect with his attacker, but it startled the man sufficiently to give Nathan the time he needed to grasp the hammer and rise to his feet, swinging it. He connected with the man’s shoulder and the man stepped back. Nathan had the upper hand now and they both knew it.

  He took the offensive with some steady swings. Sparks flew when the hammerhead struck the blade, but the blond man held fast to his dagger, although Nathan had him moving backward. He’d soon be out of room to maneuver with the animal pen behind him, but he might not know that yet.