The Gift (7 page)

"Why did you call me Viking?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Because you look like one."

"Should I call you shrew?"

"Why?"

"You're acting like one."

She felt like screaming in frustration. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"You still owe me, Sara."

"Oh, Lord, are you going to harp on that issue again?"

His slow nod infuriated her. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. When Sara realized that fact her bluster of indignation evaporated. She knew then that she was never going to get him to make sense. The man was daft. The sooner she got away from this barbarian, she thought, the better. First, however, she would have to find a way to placate him.

"All right," she agreed. "I owe you. There, we are in complete agreement. Now then, please tell me exactly what it is you think I owe you, and I shall endeavor to make payment."

He moved forward so that he could catch her in the event she fainted on him again before he gave her an answer. "My name's Nathan, Sara."

"And?" she asked, wondering why he'd suddenly decided to tell her his name.

She was slow to catch on. His sigh was long, weary. "And you, Lady St. James, owe me a wedding night."

Nathan had thoroughly enjoyed her reaction to his announcement. Lady Sara wasn't at all subtle. He doubted he would ever have to worry about knowing what was on her mind. Nathan, conditioned to sneakiness all his life, found his straightforward bride refreshing. Loud, he added as an afterthought, but refreshing all the same.

After he took care of a few remaining details Nathan joined the last of the crew aboard the ship. Jimbo and Matthew were waiting on deck for him. They were both scowling, but Nathan decided to let them get away with their show of insolence. He had saddled the loyal men with the chore of getting Sara and Nora settled in their cabins.

"Did she finally quit screaming?" Nathan asked.

"When I threatened to put a gag in her mouth," Jimbo answered. The big man increased his frown and added, "She hit me then."

Nathan let his exasperation show. "I assume she isn't too frightened any longer," he replied dryly.

"I'm not so certain she ever was frightened," Matthew interjected. The older man grinned. "Didn't you notice the fire in her eyes when you dragged her into the offices? She looked bloody furious to me."

Jimbo reluctantly nodded. "After you left she kept shouting that it was all just a cruel jest. Not even her sweet-tempered aunt could calm her down. Your lady actually demanded that someone pinch her so she'd wake up and find it was all just a black nightmare."

"Aye, she did," Matthew agreed with a chuckle. "Felix took her to heart, too. For all his bulk, the boy isn't very cunning."

"Felix touched her?" Nathan was more incredulous than angry.

"No, he didn't touch her," Jimbo rushed out. "He tried to give her a little pinch, that's all. He thought he was being accommodating. You know how the boy likes to please. Your little bride turned into a wildcat as soon as he went for her. I wager Felix won't be so eager to obey next time she gives an order."

Nathan shook his head in vexation. He started to turn away. Matthew stopped him with his next remark. "Perhaps Lady Sara will do better if we put her in with her aunt."

"No."

Nathan realized how abrupt he'd sounded when both men smiled at him. "She stays in my cabin," he added in a much softer tone of voice.

Matthew paused to rub his chin. "Well now, boy, that could be a problem," he drawled. "She doesn't know it's your cabin."

Nathan wasn't at all concerned about that announcement. He frowned at Matthew, but only because the seaman had used the ridiculous nickname "boy" when he'd addressed him. Nathan knew his unspoken censure wouldn't do him any good, though. Both Matthew and Jimbo called him that insulting nickname whenever they were alone with him. They didn't think he was seasoned enough to merit the name "captain" in private. Nathan had inherited the pair when he'd taken over the vessel. The two men had quickly proven to be invaluable. They knew all the ins and outs of pirating and had shown him the way. He knew they thought of themselves as his guardians. God only knew they'd told him so often enough. Still, they'd put their lives on the line countless times in the past to save his backside. Their loyalty far outweighed their irritating habits.

Since the two men were staring at him with such expectant looks on their faces, Nathan said, "She'll find out soon enough whose cabin she's in."

"The aunt is in a poor way," Matthew said then. "I'd wager a couple of her ribs are cracked. As soon as she falls asleep I'm going to strip her raw and bind her tight around the middle."

"The Winchesters did the damage, didn't they?" Jimbo asked.

Nathan nodded. "Which bastard brother was it?" Matthew asked that question.

"It appears that Henry was behind the scheme," Nathan explained. "But I would imagine the other brothers were aware of what was going on."

"Are we going to take Nora home?" Matthew asked.

"We're charted in that direction," Nathan answered. "I don't know what the hell else to do with the woman. Is she strong enough to make the journey?" he asked Matthew. "Or are we going to have to bury her at sea?"

"She'll do all right," Matthew predicted. "There's a tough hide underneath all those bruises. Yes, if I coddle her real nice, she'll make it." He nudged Jimbo in his side, then added, "Now I'm having to nursemaid two weaklings."

Nathan knew he was being baited. He turned and walked away. From behind Jimbo called out, "He's referring to you, boy."

Nathan raised his hand high into the air to make an obscene gesture before disappearing down the stairs. The men's hearty laughter followed him.

The next several hours were spent on chores for every hand aboard the Seahawk. The cargo was secured, the jib raised, the anchor weighed, and the eight cannons given a last spit and oiling before the command was given to sail.

Nathan did his part until his stomach became so queasy he was forced to stop. Jimbo took over command of the forty-two seamen when Nathan went below again.

It was a ritual getting seasick the first couple of days out. Nathan had learned to put up with the inconvenience. He was certain no one besides Matthew and Jimbo were aware of his problem, but that fact didn't ease his embarrassment at all.

From past experience he knew he had another hour or two before he was completely out of commission. Nathan decided to look in on his bride to make certain she was all right. If luck was on his side, she would be sound asleep, and the inevitable confrontation could be put off until later. God knew she should be exhausted. His bride had been awake for over twenty-four hours, and the tantrum she'd thrown when she found out that he was indeed her husband surely had worn her out. Still, if she wasn't sleeping, Nathan determined to have it out with her and get it over and done with. The sooner the rules were set down for her, the sooner she could come to terms with his expectations for their future together.

She would probably get hysterical on him again, Nathan guessed. He braced himself against the inevitable pleading and weeping and opened the door.

Sara wasn't asleep. As soon as Nathan walked into the cabin she bounded off the bed and stood there with her hands clenched at her sides, facing him.

It was apparent she wasn't quite over her fear or her anger yet. It was damp and stuffy inside the cabin. He shut the door behind him, then walked over to the center of the large square room. He could feel her staring at him when he reached up and lifted the square trap built into the ceiling. He propped the makeshift window open with a stick wedged into the third groove.

Fresh sea air and sunlight flooded the cabin. Nathan's stomach lurched in reaction. He took a deep breath, then walked back over to the door and leaned against it. In the back of his mind lurked the possibility that his bride might just decide to take flight. He wasn't in any condition to go chasing after her, and therefore he blocked the only exit.

Sara stared at Nathan a good long while. She could feel herself shaking and knew it was only a matter of time before her fury got the upper hand. She was determined to hide her anger from him, though, no matter what the cost. Showing any emotion in front of the barbarian would certainly be a poor beginning.

The expression on Nathan's face was one of resignation. His arms were folded in front of his chest, his stance relaxed.

She thought he looked bored enough to fall asleep. That didn't sit well. His intense stare was making her toes curl, too. Sara forced herself to stare back. She wasn't about to cower in front of him, and if anyone was going to win the rude staring contest, it was going to be she.

Nathan thought his bride seemed quite desperate to hide her fear from him. She wasn't doing a very good job of it, for her eyes were already getting misty, and she was trembling.

Lord, he hoped he was up to another round of hysterics. His stomach was railing against the pitch of the ship. Nathan tried to block the feeling and concentrate on the matter at hand.

Sara was a beautiful woman. The streamers of sunlight made her hair look more golden than brown. There was a pick of the litter in the Winchester family after all, he thought to himself.

She was still dressed in the unappealing dark blue gown.

The neckline was too damned low, in his opinion. He thought about mentioning that fact to her later, after she'd gotten rid of some of her fear, but her sudden frown changed his inclination. It was imperative that she understood who was in charge.

He stood in the shadows of the door, but she could still see the long, wicked scar running the length of the side of his right arm. The white mark against such bronzed skin was noticeable. Sara stared at it a long minute while she wondered how he'd come by such a horrible injury, then she let out a soft little sigh.

He was still dressed in a pair of indecently snug fawn-colored britches. It was a miracle to her that he could even breathe. His white shirt was unbuttoned to the waist, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and the casualness of his attire irritated her almost as much as his sudden frown. She thought about waiting until later to tell him that one simply didn't wear such unseemly attire when one was traveling aboard such a fine vessel, but his intense frown changed her inclination. It was imperative that he understand what was expected of him now that he was married.

"You dress like a tavern wench."

It took a full minute for the insult to penetrate. At first Sara was too astonished to react. Then she let out a loud gasp.

Nathan hid his smile. Sara didn't look as if she was going to weep. In truth, she looked like she wanted to kill him. It was a nice beginning. "You're falling out of your neckline, bride."

Her hands immediately covered the top of her gown. Her face was flaming red in the space of a heartbeat. "It was the only dress that was dark enough to conceal me when I walked along…" She stopped her explanation as soon as she realized she was actually defending herself.

"Conceal?" Nathan drawled. "Sara, it doesn't conceal anything. In future you will not wear such revealing gowns.

The only one who sees your body will be me. Do you understand me?"

Oh, she understood all right. The man was a cad, she concluded. How easily he'd turned the tables on her, too. Sara shook her head. She wasn't about to let him put her in such a vulnerable position when he had so much accounting to do.

"You look like a barbarian," she blurted out. "Your hair's much longer than is fashionable, and you dress like a… villain. Guests traveling aboard such a fine boat should keep their appearances impeccable. You look like you've just carried in the crops," she added with a nod. "And your scowl is downright ugly."

Nathan decided he was finished with foolish banter and homed in on the true matter at hand.

"All right, Sara," he began. "Get it over and done with."

"Get what over and done with?"

His sigh was long, weary, absolutely infuriating to her. She desperately tried to hold onto her temper, but the urge to shout at him was making her head pound and her throat ache. Her eyes stung with tears. He had so much explaining to do before she would ever consider forgiving him, she thought, and he had damn well better get on with it before she decided his sins were too mortal ever to be forgiven at all.

"The fit of weeping and begging," Nathan explained with a shrug. "It's obvious to me that you're afraid," he continued. "You're about to start crying, aren't you? I know you must want me to take you back home, Sara. I've decided to save you the humiliation of pleading by simply explaining that no matter what you say or do, you're staying with me. I'm your husband, Sara. Get used to it."

"Will it bother you if I weep?" she asked in a voice that sounded like someone was choking her.

"Not in the least," he said. It was a lie, of course, for it would bother him to see her upset, yet he wasn't about to admit to that fact. Women generally used that kind of information against a man and burst into tears every time they wanted something.

Sara took a deep breath. She didn't dare speak another word until she'd gained control of herself. Did he actually think she would beg? By God, he was a horrid man. Intimidating, too. He didn't seem to possess an ounce of compassion.

She continued to stare at him while she gathered her courage to ask him all the painful questions she'd stored up inside her for such a long time. She doubted that he would tell her the truth, but she still wanted to hear what he had to say for himself.

He thought she looked ready to cry. Sara was apparently back to being terrified of him, he decided. Hell, he hoped she wouldn't faint again. He had little patience with the weaker sex, yet found he didn't want Sara to be too frightened of him.

In truth, he felt a little sorry for her. She couldn't possibly want to be married to him. He was a St. James, after all, and she had been raised a Winchester. She had certainly been trained to hate him. Poor Sara was just a victim in the scheme, a pawn the daft king had used to try to right the differences between the two feuding families.

Still, he couldn't undo the past for her. His signature was on that contract, and he was bound and determined to honor it.