Come the Dawn (32 page)

~ ~ ~

 “It’s the boy, Captain.” Perkins moved closer to the Frenchman, who was climbing down from the rigging. “The boy what
ain’t
a boy,” he muttered.

“What does he want now, a bath and a hot meal? Or maybe a presentation at court?”

“He wants
you.”

The Frenchman smiled faintly. “One can only wish, Perkins.” He shouted an order to one of his crew, wincing as he dropped back onto the deck.

“You’ve hurt your shoulder again.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Like hell, it is.”

The Frenchman scowled at his first mate. “What does my captive want me
for?”

“He didn’t happen to confide in me. But before you go, you’d better speak to that man called Frasier from London. He said he was from a jeweler called Parrish Brothers and has some important information. Something about diamonds,” the mate added.

“Show him aboard,” the captain said tightly.

~ ~ ~

The interview was conducted between two coils of rope and a mass of torn canvas sail. The Frenchman didn’t trust his visitor, a swarthy man with more teeth than hair, who seemed more interested in the
Gypsy
than in his discussion.

“What about these diamonds you mention?”

The Londoner pulled a knife from his boot and toyed with its silver hilt. “I heard you’re looking for good stones. Very special stones.”

“I might be.”

“Then I’ve got what you want. Diamonds you’ve never seen the like of before.”

The Frenchman’s eyes narrowed. “When can I see them?”

A shrug. “Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. It’s a matter of some … delicacy.”

“Delicacy be damned. Do you have jewels to sell or don’t you?”

“No call to get angry. I’m here, ain’t I? You’ll get word when they’re ready to show. But it’s solid sterling at time of sale.” His eyes hardened. “And no questions asked, understand?”

“You’ll find I pay better than anyone. And I’m not overly concerned with who the stones’ last owner was.”

“In that case, it will be a pleasure doing business with you.” Frasier stood up and resheathed his knife in his boot. “I’ll send word when it’s time to meet.”

“I am a busy man. How will I know when to expect you.”

His visitor smiled thinly. “You won’t. Meanwhile, it sounds like you need help controlling your crew, Captain.”

The Frenchman frowned, hearing muffled shouts from the other side of the deck. When he looked up, half of the
Gypsy’s
crew was huddled by the companionway.

“Or maybe it’s some of your
human
cargo you’re having trouble with.” The visitor’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that slender fellow with red hair who rode in on a finer horse than this sorry stretch of river has ever seen before.”

“Make your point.”

“My point? That a young gentleman of that description was recently seen in London, trying to sell one of the finest pink diamonds in the world. Curious, don’t you think?”

The Frenchman leaned back against the deck railing. “Curiosity, my friend, is what killed your English cat,
n’est-ce pas
? It might be better to remember that.”

As the shouts grew louder, Frasier pushed to his feet. “Just don’t get yourself taken up by the magistrate for murder.” His lips curved. “Or unnatural acts.”

The Frenchman scowled as he watched Frasier walk cockily from the ship. Something about the man irritated him, but if the offer was genuine, it could be of extraordinary importance. He would have to lay his plans carefully.

But first, he had a shouting, intractable Englishwoman to deal with.

When the captain strode across the deck toward his cabin, his crew scattered hastily. “What the devil’s going on here?” he growled.

“It’s the boy, Captain,” someone said helpfully. “Going to beat him some more, are you?”

The Frenchman’s scowl grew blacker. “About your business!”

“Aye, Captain.”

Outside his cabin door the shouts were ear-splitting.

The captain flung open the door. “Cease your howling!”

“It’s about time you came!”

The captain ignored her. He looked at Froggett and motioned curtly. “Out.”

“Now, just you listen here—”

“Do not tax my patience, old man,” the Frenchman snapped.

“Go on, Froggett. I’m not afraid of this snake.”

The old groom glared at the two grinning crewmen waiting to escort him back to the deck. “You sure, er, Jeremiah?”

“I’m sure.”

The old man was pulled away. The captain waited until the door was bolted and advanced toward his captive.

“Stay back.” India hefted a drawer from the chest.

“I don’t believe I will,
ma mie.”
The captain ducked as the drawer hurtled past his shoulder and hit the wall. His best powder horn and a dozen iron pistol balls went flying all over the floor.

His captive stumbled on the scattered balls and was thrown back against the bed. “S-Stay away. I’ll start screaming again otherwise. And
then
I’ll break your neck.”

The Frenchman was right behind her. His fingers feathered gently over her neck. “You’ve hurt yourself, little fool.”

“I’m fine,” India said tightly.

Hard fingers eased over her bruised skin. Then his lips slid over her ear.

India swallowed, feeling a curious heat unravel through her legs and inch upward. She tried to shove free of him, as her throat went hot and dry. “Stop doing that.”

He found the pulse that beat at her neck and palmed the skin gently. “Is it because you fear me?”

“No,” India lied. “I-I simply do not care to be mauled about, with a tongue thrust between my lips and, oh, cold fingers poking everywhere.”

“Who has done this?” The voice came sharp and angry as a gunshot.

“A great many, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I cannot remember.”

“You let these
imbéciles
with hands like hooves take such freedoms?”

“I was merely curious. There are things I wanted to know,” India said irritably. “What business is it of
yours?”

“What did you want to know?”

“What it felt like — that is, whether I would know if—” She broke off, unable to frame such thoughts in words. “Oh, you are only a pirate. How could you understand?”

“Perhaps I do,” came the rough answer. “Perhaps I understand more than you know.” His hands slid into her hair. “You want to know if you can feel the heat of a man,
non?
And whether you can make him feel that same heat.”

“Rubbish,” India said sharply. But she stood still just the same. The heat had begun to skitter up to her knees and showed definite signs of making its way even higher. “It is simply that moving around as we did, with my father always on the scent of some treasure or new discovery, I never had a chance to — that is, I never got to know if—”

“If you are a woman desirable, yes? If the sight of your lips can make a man’s legs go weak with wanting you? If the touch of your lovely breasts could send heat to his groin?”

“No! I never said—”

But the quest had gone too far. His fingers were deep in her hair and she was molded against his unrelenting body. “Shall I answer you now,
ma belle
? Shall I tell you that you can find your own answer here?” he said hoarsely.

A thousand questions plagued India, questions that she had never had time to explore with Devlyn before he’d gone off to Waterloo. It was madness, but her curiosity was stirred. Yet to discus such things was horribly wrong.

She stiffened. “Release me.”

“You wish for answers,
non
?”

“Not from you.”

“You feel the desire
.
Your blood already sings for my touch.”

“No!”

“You can find your answers. Kiss me and read them on my lips.”

India could not move, mesmerized by the heat of his eyes, the hoarse urgency in his voice. She tasted desire, hot and sweet.

For a stranger. For a pirate.

It made no sense. In fact the desire shamed her.

She tried to pull away, but he laughed darkly and tugged her against him, while the candle glinted on his golden earring. Angry, she struck out, her fingers trembling.