Seductive Wager (30 page)

“You’ll have closets full of gowns even Valentine will envy,” Brett said, regaining his good humor. “And I’m going to give you a very special present for having to wait so long.”

Kate’s eyes grew huge and she gazed at him in surprise. “A present? You’re going to give me a present?” Suddenly they filled with tears that ran down her cheeks. She tried to brush them away before Brett could see them, but she was too late.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled.

“It’s nothing,” she said, turning her head away. But he took her chin in his hand and lifted her face until he could look into her eyes.

“Tell me the truth. Why did you cry?”

“I don’t know why,” she said, half angry at him for pressing for an explanation. “It’s so stupid.” She gave a loud, defiant sniff. “I haven’t had a present in so long, I guess it was just too much of a surprise. I used to get them when I was little, but Mother always kept the nice things for herself. After she died, I didn’t get anything at all. Martin never gave anyone presents.”

Being an only child and raised in a household that centered entirely on himself, Brett had not been brought up to give much thought to the desires or happiness of others, but he had since learned enough about women to realize this was a nearly inhuman way to treat a young girl.

“Everyone should get lots of presents. When we get back to London and announce our marriage, I’m sure we’ll get more than you ever thought possible. They’ll keep coming for weeks until the house is full of them. You’ll probably be so tired of writing notes you’ll never want to see silver wrapping paper again.”

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” she laughed with a watery chuckle.

“Worse! But you can always make Charles do the dirty work. He excels at keeping track of things.”

“You know, you really are a terrible man.”

“Maybe, but not so bad I’d make you wait until we get back to London for your present. As soon as we dock, we’re going to turn the town inside out for something you’d like. Even a fishing village ought to have at least one decent shop.”

Kate was delighted with the prospect of going shopping, but it made her uncomfortable to have him be so generous and thoughtful. He didn’t know she wasn’t going to go on being his wife after they reached England—she found it hard to remember it herself when he acted like this—but she wouldn’t think of that yet. She knew she was being a coward, but the weather was divinely beautiful, she was hungry for her lunch, and Brett was striving to be a charming companion. For the moment at least, she was at peace. It couldn’t last, it seemed nothing good ever did, but she wanted it to stay like this as long as possible.

The weeks that followed went quickly for Kate. The weather stayed clear and unseasonably warm, and she spent much of her time on deck enjoying the sun with Brett. He continued to demonstrate an interest in talking to her, amusing her, and discovering what pleased her. She began to look forward to these talks, and her feelings of anger toward him gradually disappeared. She started to think of him as a cheerful and relaxing force and began to look forward to being with him. She discovered he had a sense of humor and didn’t mind being teased as long as she was careful. He refused to talk about himself or his family, but he seemed to take pleasure in satisfying her curiosity on many different subjects and would take great pains to be sure she understood his explanations.

In spite of her attempts to keep her feelings under control, she felt her love for him growing day by -day until it filled her with a perpetual warmth. She wondered that every man on the ship didn’t take one look at her shining eyes and know she was more in love than ever. It was all she could do to contain it, to not break down and talk to Charles or Mark to relieve the pressure of keeping such a secret to herself. She would have given anything she owned for one hour with Valentine and a chance to say all the number of things bursting to be said.

She continued to keep her own counsel and to respond to Brett as normally as was possible for one in a state as near to heavenly bliss as a mere mortal could achieve, yet every day it became harder to hold to her resolution to leave Brett when they reached London. Her quandary grew deeper and deeper, but she cast it in the corner with all the other things she didn’t want to think about just now. Her return was a long way off. Surely
something
would happen that might change things before then.

On cool, windy days she had access to the captain’s books and quite a few games and puzzles. At first, she didn’t know what to do with the last two, but Brett took her education in hand and soon she was fairly good at chess, quite capable of playing a decent hand of cards, and had waded through two books on ships and sailing. Brett also continued her training with the pistol, sword, and knife. One day she amused and cheered the sailors by putting a ball through the center of a playing card.

She didn’t feel particularly comfortable with a knife, but she preferred throwing it to stabbing the target directly. No matter what they fixed up for a mark, it always made her think of human flesh, and that gave her a creepy feeling all over.

“Human flesh is what you’re supposed to aim at,” Brett said, impatient with her hesitation. “You’re defending yourself against attack, remember? If you get squeamish over a little blood, you might as well give up altogether.” But Kate continued to work on her toss and gradually improved her skill to the point the sailors began to take bets among themselves as to how close she could come to the target.

But none of them ever considered speaking to her unless it was necessary, or behaving with anything but the greatest respect in her presence. Brett kept a vigilant eye on the crew. One look at those black eyes and they knew he would kill anyone who dared to so much as lay a finger on his wife. They didn’t need any hints from Charles or tales told by the captain to convince them of his ability to defend Kate’s honor. They had watched him, too, as he showed her how to handle her weapons, and no one overlooked the fact that he
never
missed the center of his target with either pistol or knife. There was no reason to doubt his equal skill with a sword or cutlass.

Practice with swords was confined to their cabin. “It’s too windy on deck, and the salt spray can cause you to lose your footing,” Brett had told her, but the real reason was Kate had to gather her skirts tightly about her so they wouldn’t get in the way of her movements. This provided a much-too-clear outline of her body for the crew’s scrutiny, and Brett wouldn’t allow that. Recently he had taken to having her wear pants. At first he had given her a pair of his own to wear, but they were much too long and too large. “You look like a kangaroo in its mother’s pouch,” he howled with laughter the first time he bullied her into putting them on.

Kate threw the pants at him. “Since you forced me to wear these indecent things,” she scolded, “it’s not fair to laugh at me.” But that only caused him to laugh harder. “I hope you get a stomachache,” she said spitefully.

The next day he handed her a pair of Mark’s trousers, which fit her much better. She still felt like a shameless hussy whenever she put them on, but at least she didn’t stumble over the rolled-up legs or have great bunches of material lumped at her waist. She took off her shoes and skipped around the cabin brandishing her sword at everything in her path, reveling in a freedom unknown to girls of her class. Her rearing had always been unconventional, but this latitude was now accompanied by the personal attention of a man and an active interest in her as an individual. It was a new and wonderful experience. She didn’t know how to account for it, but she hoped it wouldn’t end.

And why shouldn’t she take advantage of it, she asked herself? Once they returned to England, it would all come to an end. She knew she would never find anything like it again. So she banished all caution and refused to look back, determined to extract every ounce of pleasure she could.

There was no need for them to experience the privation of ocean-going vessels that had to purchase everything they needed months ahead, and the ship put into port regularly to replenish its stores of food and water. No one was at war with England, and all the French, Spanish, and Portuguese ports were open to them. They never stayed for more than a few hours, but that was long enough for Kate to walk almost every street, staring in windows and peering into the recesses of shops for anything she might be able to use. She bought large numbers of French and Spanish books even though she could barely read the latter language. She had become an accomplished seamstress during the years she lived with Martin, and she purchased some exquisite embroidery as well as occasional laces, silks, and muslins.

After each stop she would retire to her cabin with her purchases and cover the floor with patterns and material. She enlisted the help of Mark and Charles, even Brett on occasion, begging and cajoling them until they agreed. She would cut, pin, and sew for hours on end until she emerged with a simple gown of fine craftsmanship. In this way she gradually built a wardrobe of suitable dresses trimmed with embroidered lace, velvet ribbon, and, once, even a small piece of fur. They were extremely flattering to her slim figure, and she received some nice compliments from Brett and the captain.

Though she still got angry whenever she remembered how she was forced to marry Brett, it had become important that he admire her. She didn’t like to admit she now dressed to please him, but she never failed to look for the glint of appreciation in his eyes. Though she might deny it—indeed, she invariably did when he made her angry—she looked forward more eagerly each day to the nights spent in his arms. But it was not enough to know she pleased him in bed. She had come to look for, to expect, to
depend
on the look of appreciation in his eyes whenever she appeared on deck or at dinner. In pulling him away from whatever was occupying his mind at the moment, she felt she was increasing her hold over him; only belatedly did she realize she was increasing her dependence on him at the same time.

You’re a giddy fool, she told herself severely. You swore that no man would ever own you, yet now you run about doing anything you can to make him smile at you. He doesn’t have to
force
you to submit; you cant wait to do it yourself. But she never listened to herself any more. She knew her behavior would only intensify the heartbreak to come, but since it was going to come no matter what, she was determined to take every pleasure she could from the present.

One afternoon Kate lay dozing in the hot sun. Her eyes were half open, and through the glare she absently watched a sailor as he moved noiselessly along the deck. He was always looking out to the sea and she found his slow steady movement back and forth almost hypnotic. Lazily she followed the line of his gaze, but they had met very few ships of any kind on this trip, and she wasn’t surprised when she saw nothing but sky and water. He called out something she didn’t understand to a man in the crow’s nest, and he called to someone on the other side of the ship, but his answer was lost in the breeze.

Kate opened her eyes and tried to rouse her dull brain. What were these men doing? At the beginning of the voyage she had been able to enjoy the deck in comparative privacy, but for the last several days, two men who did none of the usual work had been stationed on opposite sides of the ship. They appeared to spend all their time looking out to sea, occasionally using a telescope, but most often talking to the sailor in the crow’s nest.

An uneasy question grew in her mind and nagged at her so insistently it destroyed her contentment. Finally she abandoned her chair and went in search of Brett.

“I’m sure it’s just part of the routine,” Brett answered, reluctant to admit there was anything unusual going on. “Maybe the captain is looking for a ship headed back to England. Whatever the reason, I’m sure it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m simple-minded,” Kate replied irritably. “Those men haven’t been there before—I know because I’ve been on deck every day—and they’re not watching for an English ship. Whatever it is they’re looking for, they mean to see it before it sees us. They’re using telescopes.” Brett realized Kate’s suspicions had been thoroughly aroused and she would only become more upset if she weren’t told.

“We’re approaching Africa and some unfriendly waters,” he explained. “The whole coast is under the nominal rule of the Turkish sultan, but in actuality it’s controlled by the rulers of four countries. Below that, they break up according to tribes and ancient loyalties to carry on their ancient trades, one of which is piracy.”

Kate’s hands flew to her mouth. “Pirates!” she repeated in a horrified whisper. “But they won’t attack us, will they, not a ship of the English government?” Her mind was filled with the gruesome tales she had heard of the torture and rapine practiced by pirates of the East.

“The captain says not. We’re a large ship carrying no valuable cargo, so we have nothing to tempt them, but it’s always best to take nothing for granted. We aren’t armed for combat, and we have only two small guns for defense.”

“But what about the Navy? You told me the British Navy patroled the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. Surely they wouldn’t attack with them close by.”

“The Navy does what it can,” Brett assured her, “but they can’t be everywhere, and some ships do get captured. But try not to let yourself worry. There is almost no chance they would be interested in us. We’re too big to be a likely target. Most pirate ships are small, sorry little boats that have no size or guns. They depend on surprise, slipping up on their victims unawares and boarding them before they can run away or mount a defense. But our captain is alert. There’ll be at least one guard on duty around the clock until we reach Algiers.”