Sea Scoundrel (3 page)

Moments later, an angry, grumbling hoard approached him.

What now?

“Don’t want no women sailin’ with us, Cap’n. Women’s bad luck ‘board ship.”

Superstitious jack-tars. “Those women are paying premium prices to sail,” he said. “Don’t forget that on my ship, the bigger the purse, the bigger your cuts.” He waited, watched them consider his words. A couple nodded, but they were nowhere near satisfied. Though quiet for the moment, he knew he’d hear more about this in the days to come.

Damn.
“Double time, men. Make ready to harness wind.” Within minutes, rigging creaked and wheels turned; his vessel was coming to life.

Which, he had to admit, held a certain budding promise this morning, given his zesty anticipation. He hadn’t heard a word he said, Grant thought, as he leaned on the rail to observe the source of that zest while testing the stubble on his chin. There she stood, a brazen saucepot with auburn hair and green eyes, waiting for her chicks and charming his shiftless sailors without trying. Stubborn and quarrelsome, that red-head. And the very tendency in her made him want to respond in kind, to see how far she’d go

—which could be downright hazardous to his peace.

As Captain St. Benedict, he shouted orders toward the dock, and watched his men scatter.

Rag-mannered, crusty tars he’d dispatched in a trice, but how to manage a bold vixen, who smel ed of wildflowers and questioned the attraction of the male animal to large bosoms?

Angelique arrived carrying a pup in blue flannel, her parents trailing behind. “I don’t want to go to gloomy old London. I want to stay and marry Dickon,” came her greeting, or lack, thereof.

“Don’t be a goose, Angel,” her mama scolded. “Dickon is nothing but a fisherman. Now stop your pouting. You wil go to London with Lady Patience and marry that rich Marquess.”

Patience winced. While she hoped she could be as stern with Angel, mention of the Marquess diluted her pleasure in the lesson.

The mother kissed her ‘Angel’ as the scowling Captain joined them. Patience would think his glower natural, if she hadn’t been blinded by his earlier smile. “Here is Captain St. Benedict,” she said.

The Captain nodded. “Give your pup back, so you may board.”

Crocodile tears. “But Dickon gave him to me. Surely you don’t expect me to part with Dickon and Wel ington, too?” Patience knew if the Captain would be gentle, but firm, with Angel, he might convince her to leave the dog. “Captain, please,” she said, in an effort to warn him. “May I—” Angel’s mother poked her husband. The man blustered. “I say, Captain. Let the chit take the beastie. Won’t be a bother. Angel’l take care of it, won’t you puddin?”

“Of course, Papa.” She batted her lashes.

The Captain’s eyes narrowed. “Lady Patience, may I have a word with you?”

He seemed calm, but fury lay beneath his composure.

Curious that she noticed, in view of their short acquaintance. Patience turned to Angel’s parents. “If you wil excuse us.”

At their nod, she fol owed a short distance away, prepared to warn him. “Captain, don’t....”

He leaned so close, Patience saw each long lash shading eyes darker than a midnight sea. The crinkle lines at the corners of those eyes said he smiled often, which was not the case at this moment.

“Here are my rules,” he said, snapping her back to the issue at hand. “I am holding you personal y responsible.

You wil keep the beast in the cabin at al times—” He snarled. Snarled! “Except for once a day when I al ow it on deck. Then, you wil clean up after it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Don’t make the mistake of letting—”

“Do I
make
myself clear?”

“Captain, are you always so unpleasant?”

“Yes.”

Patience scowled as good as she got. “Perhaps that’s why you do it so wel .”

The Captain’s eyes widened, a smile breaking, despite his effort to stifle it.

He went to address Angel’s father, then Patience watched Angel’s family fol ow him to their carriage, where he unloaded Angel’s bags.

The Captain returned to her. “I’m anxious to get under way, Lady Patience. I’l send Shane right down.”

“You said that before, but
you
came back, instead.”

“I had a near-mutiny to handle. Some of my men don’t want women aboard.”

“Oh? I’m surprised. Most men would enjoy a pretty woman.”

“The rest of them want to do
exactly
that.” Patience felt her face warm, but didn’t know precisely why.

She wished Aunt Harriette hadn’t been so secretive about men and marriage. She was certain there were things she should know, especial y with husband-hunting in her future.

Patience sighed in frustration. Other than the fact that no man would want her flat-chested self—and in Aunt Harriette’s opinion, she should be glad of it—her aunt had said nothing of what happened between a man and a woman.

The Captain examined her expression with a shake of his head. “You real y don’t understand a thing of what I just said, do you? And I’l bet you wouldn’t know a leer from a smile.

Damn. Wel , take my word; this isn’t going to be a picnic in Hyde Park, Lady Patience. We’re going to be together for weeks. The men have hardly been ashore this time ‘round.

That means it’s been ... Never mind. Just keep yourself and the rest of your beauties the hel away from my men.”

“Certainly, Captain.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “‘Certainly Captain’, she says, as if it were the easiest task in the world. Damned if I’m not stuck with a flock of innocents.” He narrowed his eyes. “Wel , innocent in some ways. Why didn’t these poor wretches give you money like the rest?” Angel’s fee had been settled in advance. “That’s my affair,” she said. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“You’re right. Your affairs are not my concern, thank the stars. I hope you realize, though, what a huge responsibility you take on.”

“Don’t worry, Captain St. Benedict, I’l take care of everything.”

“I don’t believe it for a minute. Bloody hel .” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Jasper!”

A sailor in the rigging looked down. “Yo, Cap’n.”

“Find Shane.”

Jasper saluted. “Aye, Aye.”

The Captain blew out a frustrated breath. “I’l draw and quarter the bloody agent who booked this fare,” he said to no one in particular. His look, when it final y settled on her, made Patience feel like a fly in his pudding. “I’m setting sail in fifteen minutes,” he said, and walked away.

A sandy haired sailor arrived shortly. “I’m to escort the ladies aboard,” he said with boyish charm. “Name’s Shane.”

Pleased there would be a friendly face among the crew, Patience turned to Angel. “Shane wil take you aboard now.”

Shane offered his arm, which Angel took.

“The last passenger should arrive any minute, Shane,” Patience shouted after them.

“Be right back ma’am.”

The Captain wasn’t pleased at how easily his brother had charmed the vixen. “She’s a lady, Shane,” he said when Shane stepped on deck.

“I can tel ,” Shane said.

“No, I mean she real y is a
lady
,” the Captain said. “As in

‘The Lady Patience.’ Don’t cal her ma’am.” Shane raised a brow. “The hel you say?”

“Shane,” Grant warned. “There’s a lady present.” Shane looked smug. “A lady? Or ... a
lady
?” The Captain bit back his curse. “Cal her, ‘Lady Patience.’”

“Aye, aye Cap’n.” Shane saluted and walked away laughing.

Grant tightened a backstay rope with an angry stroke. First mates who think they’re smart, a ship ful of lusty, superstitious tars, and one redheaded siren. A voyage to remember in the making!”

Patience’s relief at Rose’s arrival vanished when a woman, whose scowl could curdle milk, threw the carriage door open and pushed Rose out. “Get thee gone, daughter of Satan!”

Patience stepped forward, but Rose ral ied. “Please, Mama. Please let me stay. Don’t make me leave my—”

“Slut,” the woman spat, pushing her daughter away.

Rose crumpled to the ground as wheels of her mother’s departing carriage ran over her skirt.

Shane lifted Rose, supporting the weeping girl as Patience dusted shel fragments from her dress.

Rose composed herself. “Thank you, both of you.” Then she saw people watching and buried her face in Shane’s shirt.

“Have you nothing better to do than gape at a woman in distress?” Patience shouted, scattering the watchers. She fol owed Shane, his arm around Rose, and stopped to look up, beyond spiked masts and circling gul s.
You did this on
purpose, didn’t You? I’m to be taught a lesson, aren’t I?

But you’ve thrown me worse than this, you know.
She took a step, saw the captain waiting, cross-armed, at the top of the plank, and anticipation shot through her, rare and unrestrained. And her heart leapt.

Soon enough, cries of, “Hoist away,” and “Set sail,” turned to the moans and creaks as sails unfurled, snapped and bil owed, and Patience fol owed her girls toward the ladder to the low-ceilinged cabin deck.

“Watch your step, ladies,” the Captain said, taking hands as the girls stepped down. “It’l get easier with practice.” As Patience prepared to descend, she knew he was waiting for her to fal , again, so when he made to take her hand, she snatched it back ... and fel against him, every soft inch of her against every hard inch of him.

His eyes were so intense, warmth stole over her. This was worse than his hand caressing her foot. Her breasts nuzzled his stomach; her stomach met his ... oh, much worse.

She tried to extract herself graceful y, but he held her tight, the twinkle in those eyes belying his innocence. The brute was enjoying this. She pushed him. “Let me go, you rogue. I should realize by now, not to expect anything but insolence from you.”

He let go. “My Lady, you wound me.”

She stepped back. “I’d like to. I real y would. But I haven’t a weapon to hand.”

His chuckle fol owed her down the companionway.

The girls’ bickering permeated the heat of Patience’s ire.

“Mama wants me to marry him,” Angel said. “Lord Andover wil want an original. He’s bound to pick me.” Sophie, looking wounded, stared at her friend. “How can you say such a thing when you know very wel that my mama has her heart set on the Marquess for me? This whole trip was her idea.”

Patience bristled at their childish display. “Hush, girls. I think Lord Andover is too elderly to want any of you. He was an old rakehel when I was a babe.”

The only sound that could be heard was the Captain’s il -

mannered snigger. Patience turned, surprised to find him behind her. “Captain St. Benedict, wil it be a practice of yours to be present for every awkward moment this entire trip? I feel as if some ancient curse has befal en me. Surely you have other duties that cal to you.” His smile rankled. “On the contrary, Lady Patience, my most pressing duty at this moment is to see you settled.

And bearing witness to your discomfort has become the highlight of my day.”

“The highlight of mine would be if you fel overboard.”

“Unlike you, I am not awkward on my feet.
I
would have to be pushed.”

“I wil see what I can do.” Patience snapped her skirt.

He angled his head. “As you wish.” He might as wel have dared her
.
And, as if the gauntlet had not been passed, he indicated the room. “This is one of your cabins. As you can see, your things are here; you may sort them later. Your second cabin is directly across the way. Fol ow me.” Angel closed Wel ington inside with their trunks and fol owed everyone across the hal . Patience examined the tiny cabin. “Captain, we are five women with but two smal beds. Surely there are quarters better suited to our needs.” She made for the companionway.

The Captain ordered the girls to, “Stay!” and fol owed.

Patience opened the last door to find a large cabin with two double-width bunks. This must surely be the most beautiful place on the ship, she thought as she examined the cabin in detail. Thick, slanting beams of sunshine entered through six, multi-paned windows across one entire wal . As sunlight passed through the etched glass, the beams broke, and prisms of bright color shone on the polished wood furniture and sailing instruments placed strategical y about. “This wil do nicely.”

“It wil not!”

“Do I detect one of your autocratic rules coming on, Captain?”

He shut them inside, the door cutting them off, it seemed, from the rest of the world, and he stepped close. His scent, already familiar to her, was as comforting as it was disquieting.

“This, my Lady,” he said. “Is my cabin. The second bunk belongs to Shane.” He gave her an assessing glance, then, lids lowered, he reached up to finger the lace at her col ar.

Patience was certain her throat swel ed, for she could not seem to swal ow.

“If you would care to share,” he said, his voice husky. “I could be most accommodating.”

“Share your cabin?”

He stepped a bit closer. “My bunk.”

His words, like cold water in her face, hit Patience ful force.

“You insult me, Captain.”

“On the contrary, Lady Patience, you should be honored. I never offer to share my bunk.” He examined her, almost surprised at what he saw. He touched an errant curl at her shoulder, hesitated then lowered his hand. Some inner struggle seemed to overtake him. “I apologize, my Lady,” he said, and opened his cabin door indicating that she should precede him.

They returned to the girls.

Patience examined the tiny quarters with as much relief over her location as displeasure over its size. “Why do you take passengers if you have only two cabins? It makes no sense.”

“When my ticket agent is in his right mind—” He sighed.

“Though I suspect his son, Dan, of—”

“The agent
was
young.”

“I was afraid of that. You see, the
Knave’s Secret
is a cargo ship, but I like to take one or two passengers on occasion.

Tradesmen make interesting companions on a voyage. We discuss business, investments, topics that make the days pass. But unfortunately, this trip—”