The Pirate and the Puritan (24 page)

“Felicity?”

“Drew.” Relief punctuated her
voice and the sudden slump of her body against his.

Every curve she possessed
tormented his raw nerves. Vivid details of their lovemaking flooded his senses.
His body grew taut, reacting with much too much enthusiasm to her nearness.

“I thought one of the prisoners
escaped,” he murmured close to her mouth. Before he could think better of it,
he kissed her. He lost himself in the softness of her lips. His reasons for
avoiding his cabin all day suddenly seemed unimportant. The smell and taste of
her overcame any point in reasoning. He tore his mouth away from hers, looking
for a place to support both their weights.

The red glow of early dusk poured
through the open hatch and banished his wayward thoughts. Anyone could glance
from above deck and see him on the verge of devouring Felicity whole. He slowly
woke from his drugged lust. Had she been pointing a gun at him?

He had one hand on Felicity’s
breast and the other low on her back, pressing her against his arousal. Peeling
her off him was almost painful. Felicity’s arms had been draped around him.
With his withdrawal, they fell to her sides.

He grabbed the pistol dangling
from her limp hand. “What the hell is this?”

Felicity’s hooded gaze narrowed.
Lips that were still slightly parted and wet from his kisses pursed. “I’m angry
with you.”

Drew stepped back and guided her
into the privacy of his cabin. “Obviously. You can tell me about it inside. You
know you’re not to leave the cabin.”

She sidestepped his touch,
entering the room of her own accord. Her sudden distance cooled everything like
a dousing of winter rain. “Oh, yes, for my own safety. Well, it’s not so safe
inside your cabin, either.”

“And what’s that supposed to
mean?” he asked. But he knew full well what she meant. He teetered between
anger and self-recrimination. Anger seemed the better way to fall. “I was the
one who was almost shot. What is my crime? Not being a saint? I believe that
makes two of us.”

Felicity whirled around to face
him. “You promised to help my father.”

“And I intend to. What were you
doing outside, anyway? I thought we understood each other.” Drew was relieved
that her first attack was something he had an excuse for. His reason for
bedding a vulnerable woman under his care was something he had yet to justify,
even to himself.

“By going back on your word the
moment you’ve gotten what you want. If that’s your idea of helping my father,
then we don’t understand each other at all.” Her voice cracked. Just as quickly
as she had faced him moments before, she turned around, showing Drew her back.

The thudding sound of his own
heart echoed in his ears. A combination of foolishness and overconfidence had
mistakenly led him to believe he could remain detached after he’d seduced
Felicity. What he’d expected her reaction to be, he couldn’t say. Or rather, he
hadn’t bothered to take into consideration. The soft purple fog of dusk drifted
through the windows, providing Drew with the illusion of cover in which to
watch Felicity. His anger at her leaving his cabin slipped in the face of his
own unscrupulous behavior.

He’d pacified distraught lovers
before, but with Felicity he was at a loss. A pretty bouquet of half-truths and
out-right lies whispered against her neck would enrage her. The truth was he
wanted to give her more than that, but he had nothing to offer. An apology for
taking advantage of the situation didn’t seem appropriate—especially since he
wasn’t sorry.

“Nothing has changed.” He stepped
toward her with the intention of placing a brotherly pat on her rounded
shoulder, nothing more. Though he hadn’t expected hysterics from her, he
assured himself he could deal with this. Realizing she wasn’t that much
different from other women gave him a shaky boost of confidence. Maybe now he
could put his own feelings in perspective.

His fingers barely grazed her
before she shrugged off his touch, stepping away. With her spine stiff, she
turned to face him again, a picture of composure. He was thankful for the
fading light that shielded him from her gaze, which experience warned would be
cold and cutting.

“Then why, pray tell, are we not
returning to Barbados to arrange my father’s release?”

“I won’t be much use to Ben dead,
and that’s exactly what I would be if I stepped foot on Barbados. Or is that
what you had in mind?”

Her balled fists indicated he’d
nicked her composure again. “How dare you? I’m not the one who has gone back on
my word. I’ve no need to defend myself.”

“Nor do I, but you’ve already
condemned me. May I ask what offense has warranted my execution—not going to
Barbados or ravishing you?” Drew retrieved the pistol from his waistband and
held it out to her.

Blue twilight had overtaken the
room. Felicity had to move closer to see what he held. “I wasn’t going to shoot
you. I went to find you and took the pistol for protection. You told me your
ship was dangerous.”

“You knew bloody damn well you
weren’t supposed to leave the cabin, so why did you?” He felt the anger
creeping up his neck all over again and found it a welcome relief to being on
the defensive.

She lifted her chin, letting him
know she was not about to be intimidated by his show of temper. “Because you
were avoiding me. As you are now.”

“I had things to do, but I’m here
now, and I’ll explain if you let me.”

With a curt nod, she settled in a
chair at the table.

He had no idea what explanation
he would give. The truth in her accusation struck him hard. All day he’d told
himself he was too busy, but the reality was, he was afraid to face her. That
she could see through him so easily scared him more than he’d ever admit.

He pulled out the chair beside
her but was too anxious to sit. Instead, he leaned his hip against the table
and crossed his arms over his chest. While he thought of what to say, he gazed
at Felicity.

She had arranged her hair in a
tight knot and wore the same gown as she had the day before. Though it was
probably the most demure of the gowns in the trunk, if he lit a candle he’d be
able to see a good portion of her pale breasts. Leering at her wasn’t likely to
help his cause. Besides, darkness was better for confessions and lying. With
Felicity, a little of both was his best line of defense.

“Freeing Ben involves capturing
the man who killed Marley. If I return to Barbados without someone for them to
arrest, Ben could stay in jail for the rest of his life or hang right beside
me.”

She patted the knot imprisoning
her hair. “My father could already be hanged by the time you accomplish that
feat. Besides, you said everyone knows you aren’t really related to the Duke of
Foxmoor. Why should they believe you, even if you do manage to capture
El
Diablo
? They all know you’re a charlatan.”

A derogatory name he’d used to
describe himself, sometimes with pride, rankled from Felicity’s lips. Her
obvious lack of confidence in his abilities didn’t sit well either. Nor did the
fact that his plan didn’t sound any better to him than it did to her. But he
had no other solution. If he tried to break Ben out of jail, he’d no doubt be
captured. He was sure the Barbadians were planning for just such an attempt. As
vague as it might sound, finding out who killed Marley might give Drew a clue
as to his next step. But he wasn’t about to share his doubts with Felicity.

“Since you’re keeping record of
the facts, I am related to the Duke of Foxmoor. On all other counts, you are
correct. I’ve already been condemned, as has Ben, by association to me. If I
can give the Barbadians Marley’s killer, they can at least stop blaming us for
something we didn’t do.” He could also tell her that Ben knew of the
consequences of their association, and if Drew was captured during a pirate
raid, he’d never expect Ben to expose himself to come to his rescue. As much as
that was the way of his business, Drew found it difficult swallowing that
excuse, and he knew Ben would never desert him.

“But you’re still a—” began
Felicity.

Drew held up his hand. “I know
what I am, but being a fraudulent aristocrat is better than a murdering pirate.
Everyone will assume I tricked Ben as I did everyone else. She made a disgusted
sound in the back of her throat.

“At least convincing people of
your devious nature shouldn’t be hard to do.”

“This is about more than my plans
to help Ben.” Drew knelt before her. He needed to look into her eyes. She acted
as if she didn’t care if he lived or died, so long as he made sure her father
was safe. No doubt his daylong abandonment had hurt her. Women needed to be
reassured after they’d been made love to even in the best of circumstances,
which his liaison with Felicity certainly was not. Any self-respecting lover of
women knew that proper etiquette on the day after was crucial. He usually sent
a gift at the very least.

He lifted Felicity’s hands from
her lap and held them. “Are you angry with me for seducing you? I know you were
vulnerable after the news about your father. You needed a comforting shoulder
to cry on, and I suppose I had other ideas.”

Felicity tried to yank her hands
away, but he held them tight. “You didn’t seduce me. I seduced you, and don’t
lump me in with all your other women. You’ve no right to assume you know what
I’m about.”

“You’re jealous. Felicity, I’ve
known many women in my life, but you’re different than—” The shake of her head
gave him an excuse to stop babbling. He feared he was about to confess
something to her he’d barely admitted to himself.

“Spare me your honey-coated
promises.” Her tone made it clear she found nothing sweet in anything he said.
“We both were in full control of our senses. I don’t expect anything from you
other than your honesty in dealing with my father’s predicament.”

He dropped her hands and stood,
which took more effort than he’d expected. Her chilly composure broadsided him.
Well, he’d not been in control of anything when he’d made love to Felicity. He
was out of his mind with lust and continued to do bizarre things every time he
found himself in her presence. She didn’t appear plagued with the same
affliction. His concern over having a fawning female on his hands hadn’t left
room for him to consider his own rejection. Or maybe it had, and that was the
real reason he’d stayed away from his cabin. Leave it to Felicity to use such a
vulnerable part of his anatomy against him. Now he had a good idea how a few of
his clinging mistresses had felt when he’d discarded them.

If this was the way Miss Kendall
wanted to play, he could do it better. “So, how is it you came to be in such
control of your faculties in the bedchamber, love?”

Felicity studied her hands in the
darkened room. Cracking her icy demeanor gave him only a moment’s satisfaction.
He really wasn’t much of a gentleman, though he did know enough not to bring up
a lady’s past. Whatever Felicity’s previous experience with men, he was sure it
was limited, and his mention of something she obviously went to great efforts
to hide probably embarrassed her deeply. It was an underhanded maneuver carried
out in an attempt to salve his own wounded pride.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said
that.”

Drew went to light a lantern, but
the tremor in Felicity’s voice stopped him. “I suppose you deserve to know.
Most men would expect an explanation.”

“Not necessarily. I only asked
because I was surprised.” He gently placed his hand on her shoulder in silent
support. Her deception might have been a good thing or he’d have had her in his
bed sooner. Dealing with the aftermath earlier in their relationship would have
been worse than this. She’d have shot him for sure.

She exhaled loudly before she
began to speak. “It happened only once, when I was much younger. My mother died
shortly before I discovered men—or should I say, they discovered me? I had no
one to talk to about such things. I was raised in the Puritan church, and all
the women I knew were of the same mind.”

“Not a place for a girl
burgeoning to womanhood to ask for guidance in matters of the heart.”

“The matrons had much advice to
give—all of it condemning everything about me. They thought me too
head-strong.”

He straightened, with exaggerated
surprise. “No!”

Felicity smiled, almost laughed.
“Yes. They were right, though. I fell in love with the most handsome man I’d
ever seen. Impulsively and foolishly, I gave myself to him. He broke my heart
and stole money from my father.”

“Handsome, was he? What did he
look like?” Drew stalked around to face her. He stopped himself from asking if
the bastard was more appealing than he. He didn’t like this turn of events.

“Erik was blond, blue-eyed, tall.
He looked like an angel.”

Drew wished he’d never started
this bloody conversation. “Surely those are the exaggerated perceptions of a
giddy young girl. Blond men have a tendency to look effeminate, weak.”

“He didn’t, but that doesn’t
matter. He made me feel like a grown woman, and I was eager to be one in every
way. I was a fool.”

“No. You were innocent and he was
a bastard. Where is he now?” If he was anywhere in the vicinity, Drew had a
mind to pay a call on the fop. He’d see how his blue eyes looked rimmed in
black.

“I don’t know. He left Boston
shortly afterward. He promised to marry me but said he wanted to prove himself
to my father first.”

“Thank God the scoundrel left
before you were stuck with him. You were lucky.”

“No, I wasn’t. He worked for my
father, and later Master Marley discovered he’d been embezzling from the
company. He used me to disguise his deeds.”

Drew reached down and took her
hand. This time she gave it willingly. “Don’t worry, sweeting. Not much got
past Marley. Your angel had to have been very sly. It wasn’t your fault.”