Starlight & Promises (12 page)

She found what she wanted when Christian picked her up and pressed that spot to his manhood. She felt his hardness and length—his heat—through her clothes. He rocked her against himself, and she believed she would die from pleasure. Dizziness overwhelmed her.

Her pounding heart beat against his. His masculine odors of leather and musk and something darker and utterly male. The heady flavors of wine and salt and mystical desire brought into her mouth by his tongue. Moonlight limned the blond highlights in his dark hair, and her image reflected in his half-lidded eyes, stormy with passion. The fire from him mingling and merging with her heat.

When he set her away, her limbs grew cold, her heart utterly alone.

Overly warm from her reverie, she threw off the blanket and flipped out of the hammock, landing on her feet. Having learned his lesson, Narcissus now slept on the window seat instead of in the hammock. She patted water on her face, and the heat abated. Glancing at the clock, she saw that an hour had flown by.

Where was Chris?

After dressing, she went topside to look for him. Not only was he nowhere in sight, very little was. Fog embraced the ship, shrouding the masts and sails in thick, gray sheets. Weak morning light bleeding through imparted a ghostly glow to objects and sailors about their duties. The fog lay so densely about her, she had difficulty distinguishing the dock at the end of the gangplank. Gulls cried from the quay. Even they were walking instead of flying to find their fish breakfast. She suspected the ship would remain in port this morning.

Samantha made her way to the galley and helped Jasper Poirier with breakfast. She now enjoyed her time with the ship’s cook. Though hard on her at first, Jasper warmed up as she learned her way around the cramped space and put genuine effort into unraveling the mysteries of cooking. He was Jamaican and British to the core, with an upper-crust, drawing-room accent that would put the stuffiest peer of the realm to shame. A sheen of sweat from the galley fires continually gleamed on his coal black face. Glistening black hair, braided into multitudes of tight, slim plaits, hung about his face, even with his chin. In one ear he wore a gold earring with a shark’s tooth dangling from it. One day he pulled up the leg of his trousers and showed her the scar on his calf he received while fighting off the shark. “Of course,” Jasper said in his cultured tones, “I daresay I had the last laugh.” He tapped the hanging shark’s tooth, set it swinging, and laughed heartily.

Samantha prepared a breakfast tray for Christian. First she asked around, but no one had seen him on deck. She carried the tray to his cabin and knocked. “Chris, I brought your breakfast.”

A string of shocking curses followed a loud groan, then, “Begone!”

She knocked louder. “Have you taken ill? Can I do something to relieve your discomfort?”

“Cease that infernal racket! And stay the hell away from me!” Heavy feet stumbled across the floor, and retching came from the depths of the cabin.

When she tried the door, it was locked, so she sought out Garrett and cornered him.

“Good morning,” he said with his usual captivating smile. “It appears as if we’ll not set sail until the next tide, if the fog lifts by then.”

“I took breakfast to Chris,” she said, skipping the pleasantries. “He yelled at me and has locked his cabin door. I’m concerned for his health.”

His gaze flicked to a distant point beyond her head. “I believe your best course would be to leave him alone today. I don’t imagine we’ll see him on deck for several hours.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “I thought I heard him vomiting. Is he ill?”

“You could certainly say he feels poorly. Don’t worry. I suspect his condition is minor and will pass quickly. Simply leave him be.”

She frowned. “Very well, if you are certain he is not seriously ill.” She left, returned to the galley, and spent the remainder of the morning peeling potatoes for luncheon.

By the time the noon meal rolled around, Christian had still failed to make an appearance, and Samantha searched for Garrett again. She had completed all her work and was in need of a task to occupy her.

“Will you teach me how to shoot a gun?” she asked him.

“Why?”

“If I was capable of defending myself, became competent with a rifle and a pistol, I would be more useful on the expedition. Chris would worry less about my coming along. Since we’ll not sail until the midnight tide, we have time to ride out of town where you can teach me the fundamentals.”

A touch of uncertainty appeared on his face. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Chris might not like it.”

She clasped her hands together in front of her. “Please? I want to surprise Chris with my marksmanship.”

“I suppose it would do no harm,” he said with a shrug.

While Samantha changed into a riding habit, Garrett gathered up the rifles, revolvers, ammunition, and other supplies. They hired horses from a nearby stable and rode into the countryside, farther inland and away from the fog.

Christian gained full mobility in the early afternoon. He had missed two meals, and his stomach cleaved to his backbone. It certainly had reason to complain. His innumerable trips to the chamber pot ensured its current empty misery. Along with the food he expelled, he finally purged the liquor from his system. Now only a splitting headache and bloodshot eyes attested to the night’s excesses.

He grimaced at the notion of food and had a bleary recollection of yelling at Samantha again. Shame pricked him, not a feeling with which he had a close acquaintance. The poor girl. He was either blistering her ears or climbing over her like an octopus. He owed her an apology and fully intended to pursue one as soon as he felt human again.

Before washing and shaving, he opened the porthole to let in fresh air and empty the chamber pot. The dense fog explained why the ship had not gotten under way. He dressed, climbed up on deck, and prepared to face the day, or what remained of it.

A knot formed in his chest when he failed to find Samantha. He questioned Delia, Chloe, Pettibone, and Gilly as well as the captain and crew. No one seemed to know where she had gone. His gut clenching, he recalled the previous night with startling clarity and not a small amount of guilt. Had he so frightened her with his lecherous advances that she fled the ship to escape him? She could be alone in town now—lost or hurt or
being
hurt by a gang of sailors bent on forcing their attentions on any unescorted woman to wander across their path.

With precious time flying by, he burst into the galley. “Jasper, have you seen Sam?”

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Jasper said. “I see you remain among the living.”

Christian glowered and combed a shaky hand through his hair. “Samantha?”

Jasper grinned, showing a wide expanse of perfect white teeth. “Why, indeed, I saw her earlier. She departed with Garrett. Didn’t say when they would return, but I would not expect them back before supper.”

With a growl, Christian whirled on his heel and stomped out of the galley. Nasty claws dug into his temper. While he was worrying himself to a nub, Samantha was gallivanting around the city with Garrett. She had disembarked without permission and hadn’t bothered to inform him or anyone else, other than Jasper, of her intentions.

A sudden thought struck him with the force of a broadside. She was with Garrett, the stud of the Western Hemisphere! The lad had no control when confronted by anything in skirts, and he would find Samantha an irresistible temptation. She had little experience with men, especially men like Garrett. Her naïveté could mire her knee-deep in trouble before she realized her predicament. Garrett wouldn’t restrain himself simply because Samantha was untouched. Garrett never considered the consequences before plowing ahead in pursuit of his own pleasure.

Christian fumed and swore vile curses, making the crew edgy. He stalked around the ship like one of the wild cats he studied. When they returned … Well, Garrett would be well advised to find a hole to climb into and Lady Samantha best hold on to the seat of her pantalets.

Samantha and Garrett found an isolated meadow surrounded by forest where the sun had burned off the fog. Garrett got right to work, setting out the weapons, showing Samantha how to load the rifle and sight the target. She had a good eye, but at first try, the rifle’s kick knocked her off her feet, onto her bottom, and bruised her shoulder.

“Brace yourself with your legs apart, knees slightly bent,” he said, going through the procedure more thoroughly this time. If he returned her with a dislocated shoulder, Christian would break his neck. “Position your left leg in front and shift your weight onto it. When you fire, keep the stock snug to your shoulder. The impact will rock your body back onto your right leg instead of slamming against you. You’ll remain on your feet with less damage.” He demonstrated. “The recoil will still smart. With your small frame, you have little upper body strength for serious shooting. But if you were forced to shoot something, or someone, you could.”

She tried a few more times until she complained that her arms ached and she could no longer hold the heavy rifle upright. He then taught her to shoot from a sitting position and while prone, lying on her belly on the ground. In this position, where she could brace her elbows on solid earth, she hit the target almost every time. When she could do no more, he disassembled the rifle and cleaned it.

They moved on to the Colt .45 revolvers. After explaining how to load the gun, Garrett said, “Stand the same way you would as if you were shooting a rifle. Hold the gun in your right hand with your arm out level with your shoulder, but relaxed, elbow slightly bent. Sight along your shoulder and hand in a direct line to the target. Squeeze the trigger, and when it fires, allow your elbow to bend as the gun kicks back. Your arm will fly up into the air over your head and absorb the impact.”

Samantha showed real talent, quickly mastering the handgun. When she wanted to practice the quick draws and shooting from the hip featured in penny dreadfuls, Garrett laughed. “You’ll hit naught that way, Sam, except perhaps your foot. For that sort of shooting you must be
exceptionally
good, and you’re far from that category yet. Give it a few years, and then you’ll be ready to rob trains.”

When they expended their ammunition, they flopped down on their backs in the dry winter grass to look up at the sky. Garrett chewed on a long grass stalk while Samantha described the shapes she saw in the clouds. “That one looks like Chris,” she said, pointing to an anvil-shaped cloud.

“That’s a thundercloud,” he said in a chiding tone.

“I’m well aware of that. ‘Tis big and stormy, black and seething inside.” She laughed. “And with a big head on top.”

“You know, Chris truly has your best interest at heart.”

She rolled onto her stomach, fastening her gaze on him. “How did you and Chris meet?”

“I robbed him.” He gave a short laugh. “At knifepoint, no less.”

“No, you did not!”

“Oh, indeed, I did. I was thirteen and had lived on the San Francisco docks for six years. I existed hand to mouth for a long time, scrounging what food and shelter I could find. Then I fell in with a gang of thieves. I suppose you could say they adopted me. At ten, I was rather appealing.”

She grinned. “You still are.”

He rolled his eyes and sent her a melting smile. “So I’ve heard and must agree.”

She punched him on the arm.

“Ouch! You pack a mean right cross. We could have used you in our gang.”

“Go on with your story.”

“They taught me everything I know. How to shoot a gun and fight with a knife, slitting a man’s throat before he knows what’s happening. Pickpocketing finesse and diversion tactics. The more gentle arts of brawling, drinking, and wenching. Eventually I became a second-story expert, gaining entry to houses thought impregnable. I can scale a wall like a spider. My exploits became legendary.”

“I would wager they did. What happened when you robbed Chris?”

“He broke my arm.”

She abruptly sat up. “He did not!”

He smiled wryly. “He did and most effectively. He grabbed my wrist and broke my arm over his knee. Never have I seen a man move so fast. I never saw it coming.”