Stormy Persuasion (26 page)

Chapter Forty-Three

“Y
ou missed a spot.”

“This floor isn’t even dirty!”

“Because you’re keeping it that way.”

Nathan couldn’t take his eyes off Judith as she angrily stood up with her bucket and
came over to the side of his desk where he was pointing. Getting back on her hands
and knees, she grabbed the rag out of the water and slapped it hard enough on the
floor for the water to splash in his direction.

“If you wanted to polish my boots, you should have said so.” He turned in his chair
so she could reach his feet.

She glared up at him. “Enjoying yourself, aren’t you—a little too much?”

He grinned. “Actually, yes.”

He’d been embarrassed when she’d first entered his cabin the morning after they’d
sailed from Bridgeport. It had none of the luxuries she was used to and barely any
furniture. He couldn’t imagine what she’d thought of it.
The Pearl
was three-masted like her uncle’s ship, but not as long and not as wide. His cabin
might be located in the same part of the ship as the captain’s cabin on
The Maiden George
, but it wasn’t even half the size. His father hadn’t slept in his cabin, merely used
it as a chart room and a place to dine with Corky—and Nathan, when he was aboard.
Nathan had turned the cabin into his personal quarters and had added a hammock, which
was where he slept. One of Bostwick’s men in New London had put a cot in it, an alteration
that Nathan didn’t mind.

Nathan didn’t know the three Andersons, Warren, Thomas, and Drew, whom James had picked
to accompany them. He would have preferred for Boyd to join them, but he recalled
James saying that Boyd would be useless for half of the voyage because of his seasickness.
James and the three Anderson brothers were pulling their weight, though Nathan had
caught all of them giving orders to the other sailors, or starting to before they
remembered they weren’t in command on this voyage. For men who’d been captains for
most of their lives, it was a hard habit to break.

The first morning at sea Judith had made his bed, dusted his desk, swept his floor,
and fetched his breakfast, all without saying a word. She didn’t castigate him for
putting her in the position of a servant, she didn’t demand to know why he’d done
that, and she displayed no resentment either. She had seemed more the martyr, willing
to do whatever it took to rescue her cousin. She’d even appeared a little grateful
to him for helping them with the rescue mission. But Nathan didn’t want her gratitude.
Although he was keeping his anger in check, he still felt plenty of it—especially,
toward her.

He’d trusted her. That’s why the rancor wouldn’t go away. He’d never trusted anyone
quite like that, when the odds warned that he shouldn’t. She’d even made him look
at nabobs differently, showing him they weren’t all heartless snobs the way Angie’s
in-laws had been. Only to prove in the end that he’d been right all along.

Corky had given up his cabin for her.
The Pearl
only had three of them, and the Anderson brothers had claimed the other. Nathan didn’t
know where James was sleeping, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was in the corridor
outside Judith’s cabin, or even on the floor inside it. Nathan had given his word
he wouldn’t touch her and he wouldn’t, but James was still helping him to keep his
word.

The man never knocked when he entered Nathan’s cabin and made no bones about deliberately
failing to do so, unless he knew Judith wasn’t in there.
Then
he knocked. But when she was in the cabin and Nathan was, too, James showed up once
or twice. Unexpectedly. Quietly. He didn’t even provide an excuse for it! Nathan found
it annoying, but he wasn’t fool enough to ask him to stop it, when he knew very well
he’d crossed the line with his terms. It had been a moment of madness that James would
no doubt make him pay for as soon as James had his daughter back.

Ironically, Nathan shouldn’t even be here. He could have checked in other towns for
more sailors to hire for his crew instead of the town Judith was in. He should have
been on his way back to England and his own nieces, instead of embroiling himself
in Malory family problems. If only he didn’t know Jacqueline, gutsy, brazen, funny—and
Judith’s dearest friend. He could have said no if he’d never met Jack or hadn’t seen
that pleading look in Judith’s eyes there on the dock. . . .

And Judith hadn’t remained the silent martyr for long. Her testiness had showed up
the first time he ordered her to do something she wasn’t expecting to have to do,
such as washing his clothes or scrubbing his floor again today when she’d just done
it yesterday.

“This isn’t tit for tat a’tall,” she pointed out now. “I barely asked anything of
you.”

“But you could have, darlin’. You can’t imagine how many sleepless nights I had, thinking
of all the ways you could have taken advantage of me.”

She blushed furiously. He relented and put his feet back under his desk before she
actually reached for them. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she began scrubbing
around the corner of his desk. Beautiful as she was in a dress or a gown, she looked
quite fetching in her boyish garb, which was all she’d been wearing on his ship. Right
now he had a glorious view of her derriere, which was outlined nicely by her britches
as she leaned forward to swab the floor. It was getting harder and harder for him
not to touch her, particularly when he saw her in such an alluring pose and she got
so close he could smell her, as she was now. He had to be a masochist to put himself
through this when he still wanted her so much, just so he could squeeze out a few
more days with her before they parted and he never saw her again.

Glancing up at him again, she suddenly asked, “Who let you out of the brig?”

Pleased that she was still curious about him, but angry because of the subject she’d
just raised, he realized she was doing it again, stirring contradictory emotions in
him. But he wasn’t surprised. She had no idea of the depth of emotion she’d tapped
in him. He’d never given her a clue about his feelings, not even that amazing night
when he’d made love to her. But the truth was, he was afraid he’d fallen in love with
her. That there was no hope for a future with her and had never been fueled his anger.

“I wasn’t awake to see who it was, but it obviously wasn’t you,” he said bitterly.

She started to reply, but changed her mind, started to again, but again closed her
mouth.

His brows snapped together as he watched her. “What?!”

She glanced down at the floor and said so quietly he barely heard it, “I was going
to.”

“Going to what?”

“Let you out. I waited until everyone was asleep. I waited too long. You were already
gone.”

He snorted. “How convenient for you to say so now.”

Her cobalt eyes rounded in surprise as they met his again. “You don’t believe me?”

“Why would I?”

“Perhaps because I’ve never lied to you? I’ve lied
for
you, but never to you, well, at least nothing of import that I can recall.”

“Import? What does that even mean?”

She shrugged. “I might have lied about members of my family, but family secrets are
family secrets, you understand, and they are not to be revealed except by those members
involved and at their discretion. Certainly not at my discretion. You, on the other
hand, lied to me. Or are you going to maintain at this late point that you were never
a smuggler?”

“D’you really think I’d answer that? You, darlin’, can’t be trusted.”

She stiffened, obviously insulted, but he couldn’t miss the hurt that briefly flickered
in her eyes, too, which twisted his gut. He started to reach for her, but caught himself
at the last second. That damned promise . . . And like clockwork, James opened the
door—and frowned when he didn’t immediately see Judith.

But she stood up, guessing who had arrived without knocking, and with her bucket in
hand, told Nathan stiffly, “The floor is finished and it’s time for your lunch.”

She hurried out of the room without glancing at her uncle, but James didn’t leave
with her. He came forward slowly, his ominous demeanor predicting payback might be
coming sooner rather than later.

“I know this isn’t your fight, Tremayne, which is why your terms were outrageous—”

“No dire predictions, please. I’m not abusing her in the least. And you are mistaken.
I was compelled to come along.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize I was so persuasive.”

Nathan barked a laugh. “You aren’t. But my reasons are my own. As long as nothing
happens to this”—he picked up a document from his desk drawer and dropped it back
in—“then when I return to England isn’t an issue.”

“And that piece of paper is?”

“Proof that I accomplished my mission.”

“I’m all the proof you need, old boy. Or in case I don’t survive this, my family is.”

“No offense, Lord Malory, but I prefer the document that was demanded of me.”

“I begin to see . . . stipulation for a pardon?”

Nathan laughed again. “You are amazing. Your deductive reasoning astounds.”

“So you don’t care to own up to why you need a pardon? You don’t need to. I’ve led
an eventful life, seen more things than I ever cared to. Even though you will be sailing
home with your ship, the fact that you must still deliver written proof that you accomplished
your goal speaks for itself. You’re aiming for a promotion or a pardon, and since
you aren’t a military man . . .” James sauntered back to the door, but paused a moment
to glance back. “I liked you from the start. Decking my brother, for whatever reason,
took guts. I hope I’m not going to have to end up killing you.”

Nathan leaned forward. “Did
you
let me out of the brig on your ship?”

James’s expression didn’t change, not even a little. It was annoyingly devoid of emotion
of any sort. “That would mean you owe me a favor, wouldn’t it?”

“You aren’t going to answer?”

“Me? Do good deeds?” James laughed as he left the cabin.

Nathan stared at the door for a moment, frustrated. That was a detestable habit Malory
had, of leaving things up in the air like that. Of course he hadn’t done the deed,
when he was the one who’d put Nathan in that brig in the first place. The Malorys
now knew that Catherine was their thief, but they hadn’t known it when they were all
on
The Maiden George
. Nathan was
not
going to look for a reason to be beholden to that man. He much preferred it the other
way around.

Chapter Forty-Four

F
our days out and they still hadn’t sighted the ship they were trying to catch. James
had said it could take upward of a week to reach St. Kitts, less only if they were
lucky with the currents and the wind. They’d been sure that overtaking Catherine’s
ship en route would be the only way to rescue Jack without a loss of life—on their
side. But obviously the other ship’s head start was an advantage they couldn’t overcome,
so an alternative plan had to be considered.

To that end Judith had a purpose other than delivering Nathan’s breakfast when she
arrived at his cabin this morning. He was standing at his desk, but he immediately
glanced at her, his eyes lingering for a long moment, before he looked down again
at the charts that were spread out on his desk. James’s charts of the Caribbean. They
had been soaking wet when Artie had fetched them from
The Maiden George
before they had sailed. But now that they had dried out, they were still readable.

“Only one plate again?” Nathan said before she could broach her subject. “You don’t
follow orders very well, do you?”

She smiled. “Eating with you isn’t appropriate—while I’m acting as your servant.”

“I’m not releasing you from your job as my cabin boy.”

“Did I ask you to?”

“No, you didn’t—and why haven’t you?”

She was surprised. This was the first time he’d revealed that her complete compliance
with his demand might have baffled him. But she would never admit how thrilled she’d
been to be included in his terms. She’d been a little nervous at first, but that hadn’t
lasted long when it became clear that he only wanted her to perform the customary
chores of a cabin boy. He had no way of knowing that the work she was doing actually
made her feel as if she was helping in a small way to get Jack back.

In answer, she said, “So you could tell me no? That’s quite all right, thank you.”
Then she quickly mentioned, “We’re getting close to St. Kitts. Strategy needs to be
discussed with my family. I suggested we have dinner tonight here in your cabin so
you could be included.”

He raised a brow. “A little presumptuous of you, wasn’t it?”

She gave him an innocent look. “You don’t want to be included?”

“With
you
serving dinner? I can imagine how well that will go over with your family. How many
of them will I have to fight off before they get around to discussing anything?”

“I won’t rub their faces in your orneriness. Tonight I’ll eat with you.”

He laughed. “Is that what I am? Ornery?”

“Better than acknowledging that you’re getting revenge against me.”

“Never that, darlin’.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“A simple need for a cabin boy.”

She twisted her lips in annoyance that he wasn’t any more willing to tell her his
real reason for making her his servant than she was willing to say why she didn’t
mind. She went over to make his bed. She could
feel
his eyes still on her. It was almost as if he were actually touching her. And why
didn’t he?! Yes, he’d promised her uncle he wouldn’t, and James had assured her that
he and his brothers-in-law would mutiny if Nathan did, but she’d never expected Nathan
to adhere to his word so literally.

Then he suddenly said, “I woke up this morning with a crick in my neck that isn’t
going away. Come over here and see if you can work it out.”

Her eyes flared wide. She straightened and turned slowly to find him sitting at his
desk now. She asked carefully, “What about your promise to my uncle?”

“I’m not breaking it. Your uncle said I can’t touch you, but he didn’t prohibit you
from touching me.”

Her stomach fluttered at the thought, but she was worried about getting that close
to him, worried that she couldn’t do what he’d asked without touching him the way
she wanted to touch him. Her breathing quickened before she even reached him. When
she stood behind him, staring down at his wide shoulders, she felt a rush a warmth
and desire for him. She had to pretend it wasn’t
him
she was touching. She closed her eyes and tried that, taking care to keep her fingers
on his shirt.

“I can barely feel you.” He rose from the chair, turned toward her, and starting unbuttoning
his shirt.

Judith groaned to herself yet couldn’t take her eyes off him, and when he removed
his shirt and hung it over the back of the chair, her gaze roamed from his muscular
chest down to his belt buckle.

“Now, try it again.” When she looked up, she saw a half grin on his face. He was enjoying
this!

Judith took a deep breath, deciding to make him as uncomfortable as she was in this
intimate situation he’d concocted. She put her fingers on the soft skin of his neck
and rhythmically moved them up and down, and then lower to the tops of his shoulders.
His hair brushing against the backs of her hands was so sensual she almost gasped
at the sensation! While she might have started out stroking him, soon she was kneading
his shoulders, deeply massaging them, then lightening her touch to a caress. She heard
him groan and then sigh. Soon she was lost in her ministrations, which were clearly
giving him pleasure, lost in thoughts of what could happen next. . . . She leaned
forward and asked, “Can you feel me now?”

“This wasn’t—” Nathan shot out of the chair. “Leave. Now!”

Judith ran out of there, straight to her own cabin, and stayed there until the flush
left her cheeks and her hands stopped trembling. Contradictory man! She hoped his
sore neck got worse—no, she didn’t. Or did he even have a sore neck? He’d sounded
a little smug when he’d told her she could touch him. Had it just been a ploy that
had backfired on him? That thought had her feeling a little smug now. But she didn’t
return to his cabin before dinner—with her family.

That could have turned out much worse than it did, but the Andersons were actually
neutral where Nathan was concerned, even though Judith was their brother Boyd’s sister-in-law
and Georgina’s niece. Judith had seen to that by assuring them she didn’t mind helping
with the “cause.”

But Nathan’s cabin wasn’t exactly designed for guests. His table only sat four and
was so filled with the food that arrived that no one tried to eat at the table. And
the discussion had already begun.

Thomas and his brother Drew were leaning against one wall as they ate. Warren, James,
and Judith used three of the chairs, while Nathan remained behind his desk.

“You can’t just turn yourself over to them,” Thomas was saying to James. “When we
get there, we must find out where they’re holding Jacqueline
before
they know we’re there.”

“Dock elsewhere?” Drew suggested.

“That won’t be necessary,” Warren put in. “Catherine is the only one who will recognize
any of us, but she won’t know this ship.”

“Enter the town disguised then?” Thomas said.

Warren nodded. “Long enough to find one of them that we can question.”

“When Jack might not even be there?” James said.

“What are you thinking?” Warren asked.

“They are directing me there just for further instructions. That doesn’t mean that’s
where they are going.”

“And what’s the point of that?” Thomas asked.

“To get me on a different ship—alone.”

“Don’t do it, James,” Thomas warned. “You can’t just give them the only leverage we
have. You.”

“I still think if you can figure out who Catherine’s father is, then we can ascertain
how to foil him,” Drew insisted. “Think, man. Who wants revenge against you so badly
they’d go to this much trouble to get it?”

“We already ruled
him
out, and it’s pointless speculating. I stepped on too many toes in my day, yours
included. I can’t honestly count the number of enemies I have on this side of the
world.”

“Yet most of them think Hawke is dead,” Warren reminded James. “That alone narrows
it down.”

“Who’s Hawke?” Nathan asked.

Silence greeted that question, but a few Andersons glanced at James to see if he would
answer—or lay into Warren for mentioning that name. But James stared at Nathan for
a long moment before he said, “It was a name I used to go by when I sailed these waters
years ago.”

“When you were a pirate?” Nathan persisted.

Worse silence. Tense silence. Judith groaned to herself, almost blurting out that
she
didn’t tell Nathan that. But James actually laughed. “Like you were a smuggler?”

Nathan snorted. “Touché.”

“But I
am
the black sheep of my family,” James continued. “And for a time I felt compelled
to protect them from my antics by using a false name. Couldn’t give them more reasons
to disown me, you understand, when they already had so many.”

Nathan tipped his head to that vague reply. “Then might I point out that you’re overlooking
the obvious? If you’re going to sneak around St. Kitts, grab Catherine while you’re
at it. Then you have a more palatable exchange.”

There was full agreement with that idea. But James also pointed out, “That’s if her
ship is even there. They might merely have someone planted there to direct me elsewhere.
But we have contingencies now, so we are at least prepared for numerous outcomes.”