Stormy Persuasion

by Johanna Lindsey

  With the advantage his now and not wanting to actually kill the man, Nathan said, “Give it up, man. Better than getting your head bashed in.”

  “Bugger off!” the man snarled, but desperation was in his expression, which warned Nathan the man was about to try something, and he did, flipping the dagger in his hand so he was holding it by the tip and raising his arm to throw it. Nathan only had a second to react, and the quickest way to get out of the path of that dagger or to stop it was to dive at the man.

  He did, plowing them both into the fence of the animal pen, which broke with their combined weight. They hit the ground, animals scattering and raising a cacophony of panicked noises. But Nathan pressed his broad chest against his attacker’s dagger arm so the man couldn’t move his weapon, if indeed he still held it. Letting go of the hammer, Nathan smashed his fist into the man’s face, once, twice, three times. Twice had been enough to knock him out.

  Nathan took a deep breath and sat up. The dagger was still within his assailant’s reach so Nathan shoved it out of the pen before he glanced down at his chest to see if he was wounded. The blade had sliced open his shirt and his skin stung. He’d been scratched, but not seriously enough to draw more than a few drops of blood.

  “Are you all right?”

  She was still there? He glanced up and saw how upset she looked and assured her, “I’m fine.”

  “But he attacked you. Why?!”

  “Damned if I know.” He got to his feet and dragged the man out of the pen before he added, “He’s not a member of the crew, obviously.”

  She was frowning down at the man. “He’s not a member of my uncle’s kitchen staff either. I know them all.”

  “Must be a stowaway then.”

  “But stowaways don’t try to kill people once they’ve been discovered.”

  She had a point. It was a minor crime that usually only got the culprit some time in the brig or forced labor until the ship reached land. Then most captains would simply let the stowaway go. The man’s aggression didn’t make much sense. He couldn’t have been in the hold since they’d left London. Nathan was sure of that. The animals would have given him away sooner, and sailors who came down here several times a day for provisions would have noticed him. The man had to have been hiding somewhere else and snuck down here when Nathan went to fetch his dinner.

  He grabbed a crate and used it to block the broken part of the fence so all the animals didn’t get out before he could repair it.

  Judith, watching him, suddenly gasped. “You’re hurt!”

  “No, it’s nothing.”

  “Let me see.”

  She rushed over to him. He rolled his eyes at her, but she was too intent on opening the tear in his shirt wider so she could check his wound. But it gave him time to realize she was a little more concerned than she ought to be about someone she wanted to see in prison. Was she so compassionate that she’d help anyone in need?

  She finally brought her eyes back to his. “It’s just a scratch.”

  He smiled. “I know. You should have run the other way when the fight started, but I’m glad you didn’t. The hammer tipped the scales in my favor. Clever of you to think of it.”

  She blushed. “I got angry that he wasn’t fighting fairly. I did think about hitting him with a plank of lumber first, but I had no confidence that my swing would be effective.”

  He laughed at the image that brought up. He seemed to be doing a lot of that around her—yet another reason why he liked her company. “Never thought I would end up grateful for that temper of yours or have to thank you for it, but you definitely have my thanks, darlin’.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He bent down and hefted the unconscious man over his shoulder.

  “Where are you taking him?”

  “Your uncle needs to be informed about this, so take your coat and go before the commotion starts. He could order the entire ship searched tonight for more stowaways, and I doubt you want to be found down here.”

  “Quite right. I’m leaving now. No need to wait on me.”

  He still paused at the stairway to make sure Judith was safely out of there before he went up. The possibility that there was more than one stowaway would explain why the unconscious man had jumped Nathan instead of just giving himself up. Had he been distracting Nathan from finding his partner? When Nathan reached the main deck, he dropped his heavy load.

  The man didn’t stir even a little, but Nathan couldn’t leave him there alone, so he simply yelled for the first mate. Only a few sailors were on deck at that time of night, but they came forward to investigate, one of them bringing a lantern.

  “Cor, you decked one of the cap’n’s London servants?” a sailor guessed. “Cap’ won’t be pleased.”

  “Fetch him and we’ll find out,” Nathan replied.

  Artie arrived and peered down at the man. “He don’t belong here. Where’d you find him, Mr. Tremayne?”

  Nathan explained to Artie what had happened, then had to repeat it all when the captain joined them. If Malory was annoyed that someone would dare board his ship without permission, he hid it well. In fact, the man’s face was without expression of any sort.

  “He’s not one of the crew, Cap’n, and from what Mr. Tremayne is telling us, he doesn’t appear to be a typical stowaway, either,” Artie pointed out.

  “No, he doesn’t.” James stared down at the man and nudged him with the toe of his boot to see if he was close to coming round yet, but the man didn’t move. “Did you have to hit him quite so hard, Mr. Tremayne?”

  “I dropped my hammer first” was all Nathan said in his defense.

  The slight quirk to the captain’s lips was too brief to tell if it was amusement. “Our conclusion that he’s not on board for the ride begs the question, what is he doing on my ship?” James said. “And why hasn’t someone fetched water yet so we can bring him to and ascertain that?”

  But the moment a sailor ran off for a bucket, Andrássy appeared with sword in hand, yelling, “How dare he endanger my family? I’ll kill him!”

  The count looked enraged enough to do just that as he ran down from the quarterdeck. Nathan leapt toward him to stop him.

  Looking annoyed, James did, too, shoving Andrássy back. “What the devil d’you think you’re doing?” James demanded ominously. “I need answers, not blood.”

  “But—are the women not in danger?” Andrássy asked, lowering his sword.

  “Bloody hell,” James snarled. “Just stay out of—”

  “Cap’n!”

  Nathan turned back and saw that the stowaway must have leapt to his feet, knocked down the only sailor still next to him, the one who’d just yelled, while they’d been distracted, and dived over the side of the ship. Nathan only saw the man’s legs before he disappeared.

  Incredulous, Nathan ran to the rail. “What the devil? Does he think he can swim back to England?”

  The others had come to the rail, too. One sailor shouted, “Should we fish him out?”

  “How?” the one with the lantern said in frustration as he held it over the rail. “Do you even see him down there? I don’t.”

  Nathan couldn’t spot the man either. Unlike last night when the sky had been clear, tonight a long bank of clouds covered the moon. More men arrived with more lanterns, but the light still didn’t extend far enough for them to spot the stowaway. Nathan could hear the sounds of splashing, which indicated the stowaway was swimming away from the ship. And then he heard something else. . . .

  “Oars,” he said to James. “There’s at least one rowboat nearby, so there must be a ship, too.”

  “Artie!” James started barking orders. “Get every man on deck armed in case this is a sneak attack. You two”—he pointed at the sailors—“get one of our smaller boats in the water and go after them. If it’s not an attack, I want that bloody stowaway back. Henry, get the man in the crew with the best night vision and send him up in the rigging. I want to know what’s happening down there.
”

  Nathan ran to the other side of the ship, but he still couldn’t see anything in the water. Moving around the ship, he did ascertain that the sound of the oars could only be heard on the side of the ship where the man had jumped. The sound was growing fainter, and finally it could only be heard from the stern.

  He was on his way to inform James of that when Walter, the sailor with the best night vision, who hadn’t needed to climb far to use it, called out, “Behind us, Captain!”

  James moved to the stern immediately with the crew following him. Artie handed him his spyglass, but James didn’t bother to use it. He glanced up at the thick clouds overhead instead and swore foully.

  But Walter yelled down again: “Just one rowboat, moving swiftly back to the big ship. Our boat isn’t close yet, Captain. Doesn’t look like we can overtake it.”

  Then the clouds thinned, just enough for the moon to cast a dim light on the water. James quickly brought up the spyglass and said a moment later, “She’s three masted and fully rigged—and pulling about to show off her cannon.”

  “To fire on us?” someone asked.

  “No, she’s not close enough. I’m guessing it’s merely a maneuver to deter us from attempting to bring their man back for questioning. Artie, call our boat back. I’m not going to risk their lives if they don’t have a chance of overtaking the other boat.” Then James swore again as the light faded. “Bloody mysteries, I deplore them.”

  The comment hadn’t been directed at any one of them in particular, but members of the crew tried to figure out what had just happened.

  “Not piracy or they would have fired on us.”

  “Only one rowboat, so it wasn’t a sneak raid,” someone else said.

  “For that rowboat to be halfway to The Maiden George when the man jumped means that a rendezvous had to be arranged for sometime tonight,” Nathan speculated.

  “Since I am doubtful of coincidences, I agree,” James said. “But we have been at sea only two days. What could he have expected to accomplish in so little time?”

  “Sabotage,” Artie offered.

  “To sink us?” James shook his head. “Too drastic and forfeits innocent lives.”

  “Perhaps they don’t care,” Artie said, “But I’ll have the ship searched from top to bottom.”

  “If he was here for revenge, he might have been prepared to do the killing tonight and then jump ship.”

  “But you caught him first? I suppose that is possible, but my enemies tend to be impatient. The man would have tried to kill me by now if he wanted me dead. I suppose the crew can be questioned to find out if anyone else has a relentless enemy.”

  Nathan did, but Grigg wouldn’t send a man on a suicide mission to kill him even if he had discovered Nathan was on this ship, so he didn’t mention it. He suggested something not quite as nefarious instead.

  “It could be that the stowaway was retrieving something that ended up on the ship by accident. He might have thought he could find it in a couple of days and maybe he did. He could have been waiting for me to leave the hold where he was hiding, but I found him instead.”

  “That possibility isn’t wholly implausible, but it doesn’t explain his immediately attacking you instead of trying to talk his way out of the hold. He could have claimed to be a crewman or a servant. No one but the first mates knows everyone aboard my ship.”

  Which was how the man could have gotten around on the ship without much notice, to eat and do whatever else he was there to do, Nathan thought. But he was done guessing when that’s all they could do. It accomplished nothing.

  “Do we turn about then, Cap’n?” one of the men asked.

  “No, we’re not giving chase, not with my family aboard,” James said. “But I want constant surveillance of that ship that’s trailing us. If it approaches, I want to know about it. And set up shifts of armed crewmen to patrol the The Maiden George tonight.”

  “I’m beginning to hate mysteries m’self,” Nathan mumbled.

  James nodded and turned to his first mate. “I suspect this will go unsolved for the time being, but gather the rest of the crew and search the supplies for anything out of the ordinary. And every nook and cranny, for that matter, to make sure this wasn’t a joint undertaking. Give me the results as soon as you’re finished. I’m going back to my cabin.” Then James paused to turn to Nathan again. “Did you finish my ring, Mr. Tremayne?”

  “I’ll have it done within the hour, Captain.”

  “It can wait until morning. You’ve done enough for one day.”

  Nathan nodded. “You said ‘unsolved for the time being.’ Do you think they’ll continue to follow us if they didn’t get what they were after?”

  “Oh, I’m quite depending on it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Judith couldn’t believe she was going to do this. Again. It was so against her nature to sneak about like this. There had to be another way to talk to Nathan without stirring up any curiosity about it. But she couldn’t think of anything.

  She hurried down to the lower level, aware that she had so little time she might as well not even bother. It was midmorning already. She hadn’t meant to sleep this late and Jack would be looking for her soon if she didn’t oversleep again, too. She might, though, after coming to Judith’s cabin last night before she retired. Jack had had to share with her everything that she’d learned from her father about the stowaway, and Judith couldn’t even admit she already knew half of it. Darned secrets . . .

  She found Nathan putting his tools away. The exercise ring was finished. And he’d already repaired the animal pen. A few more minutes and she would have missed him.

  He confirmed that, saying, “I was just leaving. Didn’t think you were going to pay me a visit—and what the devil are you wearing?”

  “Clothes that are easy to put on. My maid let me oversleep and I was too impatient to wait for her to come back. As it is, I don’t have much time to spare.”

  The way he was staring at her britches brought on a blush. She’d tucked them into midcalf-high riding boots, but the britches weren’t thick. Jack liked her clothes comfortable, which usually meant soft. So Judith didn’t tuck in the long, white shirt, allowing it to fully cover her derriere instead, but she did belt it. She had no doubt she looked ridiculous, but that’s not what his green eyes were saying.

  “You’re actually allowed to dress like that?”

  “On board ship, yes. I wore breeches the last time I sailed years ago. My mother agreed. Better than a skirt flapping in the wind.”

  “For a child, maybe, but you’re a woman now with curves that—”

  “Stop looking!” she snapped.

  He laughed. “There are some things a man just can’t do, darlin’.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you deliberately wasting what little time I have before Jack starts wondering where I am?”

  His eyes came back to hers. “Doesn’t work out well, you having me at your beck and call, does it? Not if you have to arrange it around your cousin.”

  She’d already figured that out but did he have to sound so amused about it? “If you have somewhere else to be, by all means—”

  She didn’t get to finish. He actually put his hands on her waist and set her on the crate next to him. It was a bit high for her to have chosen as a seat, leaving her feet dangling a few inches off the floor. But then he sat down on it next to her! It wasn’t wide enough for two. Well, it was, but not without their thighs touching.

  She might not even have noticed it if she were wearing a skirt and petticoats, but in the thin, black britches, she could feel every bit of his leg against hers and the warmth coming from it. She could feel the warmth of his upper arm, too, as it pressed against hers, since he wasn’t wearing a jacket. The position was far too intimate, reminding her of how it had felt being pressed to his half-naked body yesterday when he’d kissed her. . . .

  That pleasant fluttering she’d experienced yesterday showed up to fluster her further. She starte
d to get down until she realized that sitting side by side, she wouldn’t have to look at him and get snared by his handsome face and sensual eyes. If she could just ignore that they were touching. If she could not wonder if he had put them in proximity because he wanted to kiss her again. She groaned to herself. She was never going to get any answers from him if this attraction kept getting in the way.

  “Where did you grow up?” she blurted out. There, one simple question he couldn’t possibly evade.

  He did. “Does it matter?”

  Staring intently at the exercise ring in front of them, which was well lit with two lanterns hanging on its posts, she demanded, “Is this really how you’re going to adhere to the Bargain?”

  “Well, if I say where I was raised, you’re just going to take it wrong.”

  “Oh, good grief, you grew up in Cornwall?” she guessed. “Yes, of course. The one place in England well-known for smugglers. Why did I bother to ask?”

  “I warned you’d take it wrong. But Cornwall has everything every other shire has, including nabobs, so don’t paint everyone who resides there with your suspicions.”

  “Point taken.”

  “Really?” he said in surprise. “You can actually be reasonable about something?”

  “I favor logic, and that was a logical statement about a region.”

  He snorted. “I’ve given you lots of logic—”

  “No, you haven’t, not on matters that pertain to you personally. So did you learn carpentry before or after you took to the seas?”

  “It’s my turn.”

  “What? Oh, very well, ask away. I have no secrets to hide other than you.”

  “I rather like being your secret.”

  Why did that bring on a blush? Just because his tone dropped to a sensual level didn’t mean he intended it to. Or it could mean he did. The man could be trying to deliberately discompose her. Or was he getting as caught up in this attraction as she was? The thought made her feel almost giddy. If he wasn’t a criminal—but he was, and she had to keep that firmly in mind.