Sea of Desire (14 page)

“Aye.” Abner scrubbed his hands down the
leather apron covering his breeches, smearing it with more blood,
then reached for the bottle of rum. He swallowed loudly...
appreciatively. “But I be a burly man, and you but a slip of a
lass.”

Merideth couldn’t help the laughter that
escaped. Abner had first told her that when she’d offered to hold
down a tar whose leg was broken. She’d but looked at him, grabbed
the sailor’s shoulders as gently and firmly as she could, and held
on while Abner set the bone.

The good “doctor” had repeated his comparison
several times during the ensuing hours... each time Merideth helped
with some task he deemed unsuitable for her. And each time his
black eyes sparkled a bit more.

“I’ve an idea,” he said now. “What if we both
rest ourselves a spell?”

“Do you think we should?” Merideth quickly
scanned the hold with its cargo of wounded and dying.

Abner’s gaze followed hers. “Won’t do any of
them a speck of good if ye drop over, now will it?”

“No.” Merideth tucked a loose curl behind her
ear. “But I’m a far cry from dropping over.”

“Maybe so. But I ain’t. Besides, that appears
to be Tim with some victual.”

Merideth turned to see the boy coming down
the ladder balancing a tray on his hip. Rushing forward, she
grabbed up the bucket he carried.

“ ‘Tis some fresh water for ye,” he said.
“And some gruel. Ain’t hot,” he added with a grimace. “Cap’n said
no fires till we’re outa this mess.”

“Out of it?” Merideth’s surprise was obvious.
“I thought we were simply holding on until morning.” Keeping afloat
until the British came aboard. That was certainly what
she
thought they were about.

“Phew,” Tim snorted, and Abner rolled his
eyes. “She doesn’t know the cap’n very well, does she?”

“Actually I barely know him at all... and
that’s fine with me, but I fail to see what that has to do with
anything. From what I understand, we are sinking and have no mast
to hold sail. It seems obvious our only choice is to surrender.”
She was counting on it. She’d been working this long night away,
knowing in her heart that the morrow would see her safe and sound
upon an English vessel bound for home.

Now Tim’s and Abner’s expressions—as if the
two were privy to a wonderful secret—deflated her feelings of
anticipation. “What is it? Why do you find the notion of
surrendering so humorous?”

The boy looked at the man, who merely
shrugged.

With a mim movement of his shoulders, Tim
spoke. “Cap’n, he patched up the leak. Used a stretch of canvas and
tied it on hisself.”

“So what if we aren’t sinking. We’ve no way
to move.”

“We’re moving right now,” Tim countered.
“Them Limeys gonna wake up at dawn and find us nowhere at all.
Maybe they’ll think we just sunk under their noses.”

“I... I don’t understand.” All of a sudden
the hold seemed very warm.

“We used our sweeps to get away,” Tim
chuckled.

“Sweeps?”

“Oars, yer Ladyship. Cap’n had us muffle ‘em
with bits of sail to keep the noise down, then we stuck ‘em through
the oar ports and rowed away in the dark. And all the while crews
were up in the shrouds jury-riggin’ the sails.”

He seemed proud enough to bust about his
captain’s achievements—sneaking away from the cocky enemy. And
Merideth... Merideth felt sick. They weren’t going to be captured
by the British. She was going to remain a captive of the horrible
Captain Blackstone. Gray dots swam before her eyes, and her stomach
recoiled. She glanced about for a place to sit, but her two
companions were faster.

“Me God, she’s a gonna swoon clear away.”

“Here, yer Ladyship, sit yerself here.”

“Sittin’ ain’t enough.”

“No, really.” Merideth held up her hand in
protest, but her head was forced down between her spread knees
anyway.

“What’s going on in here?” As if on cue,
Jared stepped into the hold in time to see Abner and Tim kneeling
beside Merideth Banistar.

“Her Ladyship took sick,” Tim explained,
giving Jared no more than a glance.

“She did, did she? ‘Twas my impression she
was to be helping with the wounded rather than adding to the sick
list.”

“I’m fine, really.” Merideth bobbed her head
up and Abner caught it with his wide-palmed hand, shoving it back
down.

“She ain’t well, Cap’n. But it ain’t her
fault. She done a powerful lot... especially for a little slip of
a—”

“I said I’m fine and I am.” Merideth bounced
out of the chair before Abner and Tim could stop her. She wasn’t
going to let the despicable captain think she was some whiny female
who fainted at the first sight of blood. Unfortunately, her abrupt
movements didn’t allow time for her head to adjust to the idea of
standing.

She’d barely taken three steps toward the
captain when everything went black.

“What the...” Catching her before she hit the
deck was a reflex action.

The first thing Merideth saw when her eyes
drifted open was the captain’s broad, bare back. He was standing
beside his sea chest, unfolding a clean shirt—a shirt she had
washed. Blinking, she tried to remember what had happened. Why was
she lying on the cot in Captain Blackstone’s cabin, watching him...
change his clothes?

His breeches were wet, clinging to the taut
muscles of his buttocks and thighs. He reached down to unfasten the
flap and Merideth gasped in her breath.

The captain turned quickly, spearing her with
his green gaze, and suddenly all that had happened—the battle, her
fainting—came flooding back.

“Well, I see you’ve come around,” he said
with a lift of his raven brow. Apparently he had decided against
stripping from his breeches, for he was rebuttoning his pants. But
the dampness made them just as snug in front. Merideth swallowed
and forced her gaze away from the muscled thighs and the obvious
bulge at their apex.

Pushing to her elbows, Merideth ignored him
as he moved to the cot; she looked instead out the transom windows
to where the first blush of dawn had tinged the sea a pearly pink.
They were moving all right, and, by the look of their wake, at a
goodly speed. And there was no sign of the British vessel. “You’ve
escaped again, I see.”

“It’s something I seem to do passably well.”
His grin flashed; the dimple appeared, but it just as quickly
disappeared as a cynical expression darkened his face. “Almost as
well as you swoon. Is that something you practiced back in
England?”

“I never fainted before you happened into my
life. And I hardly think one time qualifies me as accomplished at
it.” Merideth held his stare and tried to swing her legs over the
cot’s side. There wasn’t any room to get up without brushing
against him. “Would you mind moving?”

“Abner thinks you should stay abed for
awhile. And this wasn’t the first time. On the beach at Land’s End
you very prettily swooned away. Of course, that’s when you were
trying to gain my sympathy.”

“How foolish of me not to realize the emotion
was foreign to you.” Merideth shoved against his leg, but he didn’t
budge. He just stood there, arms crossed over his hair-covered
chest.

“I told you Abner thinks you should
rest.”

“Why should you care what he thinks? I’m
quite sure my
pretend
swoon has afforded me enough time to
lie about.”

The hint of a smile tilted the corner of his
mouth and lit the depths of his eyes. “I rely on Abner when it
comes to the health of those on my ship. Besides, he mentioned that
you worked very hard last night. He thought ‘twas only natural the
blood finally got to you.”

“But then
he
apparently thinks my
faint was genuine?”

“Aye.”

“Unlike his captain.”

“Genuine or no, it doesn’t change the fact
that you tended the wounded last night.” He stepped away to
retrieve the clean shirt and Merideth bounded from the bed.

“Well, for your information, caring for the
men did not cause me to swoon.” He turned, looking at her in
surprise. Obviously he had thought she’d be happy with the chance
to stay in bed. “It was discovering that you weren’t to be
captured... this time... that made me ill.”

Merideth advanced on him till she had to tilt
her head to look him in the eye. “Knowing I had to remain in your
loathsome presence.”

Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Being rid of me is
easy enough. Just tell me what I want to know.”

“For the last time, I don’t
know
anything.”

“Then there’s nothing more to discuss.”
Turning on his heel, Jared slammed out of his cabin, realizing too
late that he still wore wet breeches from working on the hull. But
he refused to turn back, especially when he passed Tim in the
passageway, heading toward his cabin.

“Abner wanted me checkin’ on her Ladyship,”
the boy began before Jared cut him off.

“She’s just fine!”

Scratching his head and wondering at his
captain’s brusque manner, Tim watched him stalk off, his breeches
wet, his chest and feet bare. He was still pondering it when he
entered the captain’s cabin.

“I’d a thought the cap’n would be feelin’
tip-top, seein’ how we done snookered them British.”

“Maybe he fears you’ll be attacked again. The
ship must be in pretty bad shape.” Merideth hoped she didn’t sound
too pleased by the prospect. But Tim dashed her hopes with his next
words.

“Not much chance of that happenin’. We’ll be
salutin’ the fort at the head of Morlaix Roads within the watch.
Then there’s nothing more to do but sail up the river.”

“That’s where we’re headed? Morlaix?”

Tim nodded. “That’s where we take our
prizes.”

Including her. Merideth sighed. Perhaps it
was better they were here. Someone in France had to believe she
knew nothing about a traitor. Someone had to listen.

But even as she tried to believe the best, a
creeping doubt made a chill run down her spine. What if they didn’t
believe her? What if her father
had
been involved in treason
and had somehow pulled her into it?

He wouldn’t do that, Merideth thought. But
her conviction wasn’t as strong as it had been. Whatever Jared
Blackstone was, a killer or not, he believed she was involved. He
truly believed it.

Shutting her eyes, Merideth leaned her
forehead against the glass panes. For better or worse, they would
soon be in France.

“What do you mean he’s not here?”

Jared stood on the steps in front of the
half-timbered house and stared at the wizened, tight-lipped woman.
She simply screwed her face into more of a grimace and started to
close the door.

“No, wait, please.
Pardon
. I did not
mean to be so abrupt.” It wasn’t this woman’s fault that Daniel
Wallis wasn’t here. And even Jared’s manners usually weren’t this
lacking. He’d never been as polished and courtly as his brother.
But his mother had taught him better than to yell at elderly
ladies.

Smiling, Jared tried again. “
Pardon
,”
he repeated. He never had picked up more than a few words of
French. “I am a friend of Monsieur Wallis... his cousin. Do you
know where he is?”

“
Non
.” This time she did shut the door
of the boardinghouse where Daniel had stayed, and Jared let
her.

Damn.

What was he to do with her now?

Jared strode down the rue du Mur, toward the
docks, wondering just where in the hell Daniel could be. Jared’s
instructions had been explicit.
Procure the name of the traitor
from Lord Alfred and return to me here in Morlaix
.

It had seemed so simple at the time... though
Jared hadn’t liked the idea of it. “I’m a privateer... a sea
captain,” he’d said. “Spies and intrigue are not for me.”

But Daniel had countered smoothly... knowing
just the words to say to get Jared to agree to his scheme. “You and
John were more alike than you realize. Believe me, I grew up with
both of you. If he were here, he’d do this without hesitation.”