Lady Vixen (9 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

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Nicole
had watched the flogging without flinching, the boy's back a mass of torn and
bleeding flesh by the time it was over. The punishment was harsh, but Tom had
known the risks, and Nicole was uncomfortably aware that an iron hand was
necessary to enforce the rules the privateers lived by. She might have
disagreed with Saber's punishment, but she didn't hold it against him. No, it
was his disposal of the woman that sickened her.

The
flogging done, Saber's cold gaze had fallen on the woman. He stared at her a
long time, as if undecided what to do with her, and then his eyes had narrowed
when she misinterpreted his interest and threw him a coy look of invitation.
Watching her, his face expressionless, he said softly, "Take her below and
for this trip let the crew enjoy the services of a resident whore!"

The
woman's eyes had widened with shock, and pleading and screaming, she was forced
below by a group of leering and grinning crewmen. Then, knowing what was in
store for the woman, Nicole was well and truly sick. Saber, she decided
angrily, was a cold, brutal, unfeeling beast!

Nicole's
heart had bled for the plight of the whore. No woman, she thought fiercely, not
even a woman of the streets, should be forced to service unceasingly the
demands of the entire crew of
La Belle Garce.

Recalling
the incident in vivid detail, she fidgeted unhappily on the beach. It
distressed her still and gave her a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Men were such savages, she thought contemptuously. Then a slow slight smile
curved the wide, generous mouth—no, not all of them, not Allen.

Thinking
of Allen, Nicole's face broke into a pleased smile. Dear,
dear
Allen. It
had been Allen who had apologetically suggested to Saber that it wasn't
precisely quite the thing to have Nick exposed to
all
that went on in the
Captain's quarters. Saber had thrown Allen an icy golden stare, and then those
thickly lashed eyes had fallen on Nicole's interested young face. And no doubt
remembering the many times he had entertained ladies of less-than-moral
character in his room while Nick supposedly slept dreamlessly in the corner,
Saber's mouth had quirked in a lazily amused grin and he had ordered Allen to
find something nearby for the boy. Consequently, shortly thereafter Nicole
found herself the proud possessor of a small cupboard next door to the
Captain's quarters.

It
really had been a cupboard, but Allen had ordered the ship's carpenter to make
some minor revisions. And so Nicole had a tiny room just large enough for her
hammock and a small leather-bound chest in which she kept her few belongings.
As the months passed she was frequently thankful that Saber had taken Allen's
suggestion.

The
sun was becoming too hot to remain lying motionless any longer, and Nicole
stood up and walked slowly to the edge of the beach. The last vestige of fear
of shark attack left her, and she waded out till the silky water was nearly
waist high and then swam a short way out into the beckoning blueness. She swam
until she felt pleasantly tired and then lazily propelled herself toward the
shallows. Thinking herself to be unobserved, she was as natural and
unself-conscious as only the young can be, and laughing, she stood up, turning
her face up for the kiss of the sun, the green-blue waters swirling about her
slender hips like some glorious gown of shimmering satin. But Nicole was not
alone.

The
man who stood transfixed by the sight before him was hidden by the lush green
undergrowth of the tropical forest, and frozen into immobility he made no
sound. At first astonished and stunned, he could only stare at the tall
laughing girl in the water, her dark auburn hair like a damp mantle of sable
fire about her shoulders.

Nicole
had grown up into a tall, slender girl, a very tall girl, but not ungainly. She
was small boned and finely formed, with beautiful sloping shoulders and a high,
proud upthrusting bosom—not voluptuous, but still
very
womanly.
Observing the slender waist and delicately rounded hips, the watcher wondered
sardonically how anyone could have been in ignorance of her sex! And as she
waded to the white sandy beach, the long, supple legs flashing wetly golden in
the sunlight, his breath caught in his throat at the sheer, long-limbed beauty
of her. The smooth apricot-tinted skin was unblemished, and her full-lipped,
almost sultry mouth unleashed a desire to capture her in his arms and taste the
sweetness of those tempting lips. He started forward when a sound to his left
halted his step, and he recognized instantly the man who stepped out onto the
beach.

"Goddamnit,
Nick! How many times do I have to warn you? Anyone could come along and
discover you!"

Startled,
Nicole glanced up apprehensively, but seeing who it was she grinned. "Oh,
Allen, you fuss far too much. The ship is on the other side of the island and
the men never leave the town—they're too busy getting their fill of rum and
whores. Why on earth would they come this far?"

"That's
not the point! Someone could and then we'd really be in the soup. I've told you
time and time again that if you want to go bathing let me know, so I can at
least be on the lookout."

Grimacing
and completely unconcerned about her nakedness, Nicole grumbled, "I think
you worry overmuch."

Allen
shook his head disgustedly. "I don't think you realize the risk we're
running. Get some clothes on!"

Good-naturedly,
Nicole scrambled into the long cotton pants, and not taking time to bind her
breasts as she usually did, she slipped on her coarse white linen shirt.
"There, satisfied?" she challenged.

A
smile crossed his darkly tanned face and, a twinkle in his blue eyes, he laughed,
"Yes, I'm satisfied. But I think I'm man enough to much prefer you the way
you were! Now come over here and let me do something with that tangled mane of
yours!"

Obediently
Nicole walked over to him, stopping directly in front of him. He seated himself
gingerly on one of the boulders of the rocky outcrop that formed the encircling
arms of Nicole's cove and, forcing her to kneel in the sand in front of him,
proceeded to untangle the heavy auburn hair. Then ruthlessly he scraped it back
from her face and bound it tightly in a long braided queue that hung down her
back. Finished, he stood up and reached down a hand and helped her to her feet.
Gazing into the wide-spaced topaz eyes, their darkness intensified by the heavy
black lashes and golden sheen of her skin, he wondered uneasily how much longer
this masquerade could last. Her mouth was too sensitive and full to be manly;
her nose, with its straight purity of line, only broken by a slight, ever so
slight, tip at its end, was much too feminine.

The
fact that she had left off three years of her age originally helped enormously,
and he supposed a delicate youth of fifteen could look like Nicole. He smiled
at her, but couldn't help asking seriously, "How much longer do you think
you can continue to carry out this disguise, Nicole? Sooner or later, you'll
have to end it. You don't plan on turning into an old salt, do you?"

Nicole
hunched a shoulder and turned away from Allen's probing gaze. Staring off into
the ocean, her eyes squinting against the glare off the water, she said slowly,
"If I were to do as you say and return to England, I would have
accomplished nothing but to have given myself a five-year respite. I'm still
underage, female, and the Markhams would still have control of my person
and
my money! I have only two courses—to wait until I reach my majority or to
marry." Spinning around she asked with a teasing note, "Will you
marry me, Allen?"

Dumbfounded,
Allen stared at her helplessly and Nicole's laughter bubbled out at his
expression. "You see —I have no choice but to wait until I'm of age."

Realizing
his lack of speech was less than complimentary, Allen attempted an explanation
and found himself stammering to a halt before Nicole's amused stare. Her self-possession
occasionally alarmed him. She had no maidenly attributes, and thought as
clearly and hardheadedly as a man, so much so that sometimes Allen wondered
despairingly if she was even aware that she was a woman! He wasn't in love with
her, but he did have a great deal of affection for her and was as fond of her
as he would be of a younger brother—and sporadically even
he
was hard
pressed to remember she was a woman! But sometimes, as now, he was extremely
conscious that she was a female and a young woman of good birth, with a family
in England who must often wonder at her fate.

Nicole
had no coyness, no airs about her. She was straightforward and there was
nothing missish about her! No vapors and maidenly blushes, and he smiled in
unwilling amusement as he pictured the stunning effect that she would have on
proper London the first time she opened her beautiful mouth and uttered one of
the more colorful curses which she had learned from close association with a
crew of rough seamen. Throwing a companionable arm about her slender shoulders,
he guided her toward the path that ran through the forest. "You know,
young lady, if I thought it would work, I
would
marry you! But I'm very
much afraid you would lead me such a merry dance, I'd go to my grave long
before I plan to!"

"I
wish you would marry me, Allen," Nicole said slowly. "Are you certain
you couldn't bring yourself to do it? After all, we deal together admirably,
and I know you could oust the Markhams."

Allen
only shook his head at the coaxing note in her voice. "Nicole, Nicole,
what an unnatural girl you are! Don't you dream of falling in love?"

Astonishment
halted her steps and perplexedly she stared at him. "But I
do
love
you! I love you better than anyone in the whole world!" she protested.

Gently,
Allen said, "That's the wrong kind of love, Nicole. Someday you'll know
what I mean, and then you'll understand when I say what you feel for me isn't
enough."

Frowning,
she looked at him doubtfully and Allen flicked her lightly on the nose.
"Don't worry about it," he said softly. "Forget it. You'll learn
soon enough what I'm talking about, once I get you into some proper
clothes."

Inclined
to argue, Nicole opened her mouth to pursue the subject. But Allen gave her a
determined shove and reluctantly she moved down the path.

And
to lighten her mood Allen laughed, "Come along, young Nick, I've got a
surprise for you—one I hope you'll like."

They
wandered slowly out of sight and hearing of the hidden watcher, and after a few
minutes the man stepped from the concealing greenery onto the path. Though he had
not been able to hear their conversation on the beach, he had observed closely
their air of intimacy. There was an unpleasant smile about his chiseled lips as
he thought grimly that young Nick wasn't the only one due for a surprise!

CHAPTER 6

Nicole
and Allen, completely unaware that they had been observed, continued on the
little dirt path through the lush tropical undergrowth until they reached an
area where the forest stopped and signs of encroaching human occupancy could be
clearly seen. The forest had been hacked back to make way for the fields of
tall green sugarcane, and here and there in the distance a house or building
gleamed white against the vivid backdrop of bright blue sky and a multitude of
shades of green. Skirting the field where they had come out of the forest, they
eventually reached their destination—a small single-storied lime-washed house.

The
house belonged to the overseer, a Scotsman, one Ian MacAlister, whom Allen had
met about the same time Saber had discovered the not-inconsiderable charms of
Louise Huntleigh, the only child of MacAlister's employer. And while Saber paid
lazy court to Louise, a deep friendship developed between Allen and MacAlister.
Consequently, whenever
La Belle Garce
put into the Bermudas and Allen
was free of his duties aboard ship, he spent his time with MacAlister, most
times with Nicole in tow.

It
hadn't taken too many visits for the canny Scot to stumble across the secret
that Nicole and Allen attempted to hide. But beyond muttering that they were
both daft to continue such a masquerade, MacAlister turned a deaf ear and a
blind eye. If the bonnie lass wanted to be a lad, it was none of his concern.

If
Ian was prepared to turn a blind eye, Marthe, his woman, a small and comely
quadroon, who was also Louise's maid, was not. The whole situation affronted
her sense of propriety, but a harsh look and a stern command from her beloved
Ian stilled the words of censure on her lips. But for all Marthe's obvious
disapproval, she had a soft heart and secretly admired Nicole's cool
effrontery. When Allen approached her to help him, she was more than willing to
fall in with his plan.

Entering
the coolness of the interior of the house, Nicole glanced curiously around the
room, searching for anything that could possibly be Allen's surprise. But the
house, with its highly polished dark wooden floors and the soft white walls,
appeared as it always did.

Rising
from the cane-backed chair in which she had been seated, Marthe, wearing a
crisp white gown, smiled encouragingly at Nicole. Ian, his ever-present pipe
clenched tightly between his teeth, a twinkle in the light blue eyes, laughed.
"My, my, lassie, between the two of them they'll maze ye brain with all
those fripperies Marthe had been gathering."

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