Captain's Bride (14 page)

“I know that, lass. Deep down, Nicky knows it, too.
He wouldna be so damned miserable if he didna.”

“Where is he, Mac?”

“In his cabin.”

She hesitated a moment. “What if someone sees me?”
Mac chuckled. “Yer learnin’, lass. Yer learnin’. C’mon, I’ll walk
ye down.”

He escorted her down the passageway, checked to be
certain no one else was around, then waited near the stairs while
she knocked on the captain’s door. With her heart knocking against
her ribs, she licked her suddenly dry lips. When Nicholas, naked to
the waist, opened the door scowling, she almost turned and ran.

“Hello,” he said, quickly hiding his surprise. A
glance down the hall told him Mac had brought her, and he pulled
her inside. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he said, “even with
Mac.”

“I . . . I know,” she said. Then, seeing his bare
chest and broad shoulders, she backed away. “Please, Captain, don’t
misunderstand my intentions. I only came because I wanted to
apologize for any trouble I might have caused.” He could see she
was a little afraid of him and cursed himself for the hundredth
time that day. As he grabbed up his shirt, he indicated she sit
down in the squat oak chair while he took a seat on the foot of his
neatly made berth.

Glory remained standing. “Of course, that doesn’t
excuse your actions,” she added with a surge of spirit. Nicholas
almost smiled. “You behaved despicably, and I for one shall never
forget it.”

He’d had the very same thought himself.

“On the other hand,” she was saying, “I suppose you
were trying to make a point.” Her eyes slid away from his, and he
read her embarrassment. “I may be a little naive, Captain, but I’m
not a fool. Things are different where I come from. Women have
little to fear. I’ve never been around men like these. I just
didn’t understand.”

“And now you do.”

“Yes.” Her voice was soft. “Now I do.” She turned to
go, but he rose and caught her arm.

“Glory?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, too.”

She scoffed, remembering the last apology he’d made.
“Sorry I didn’t listen to you sooner?”

“No. Sorry I hurt you. I lost my temper and . . .
well, I just didn’t know any other way to make you understand.”

He looked more than a little contrite, and Glory
remembered the way he’d looked that night on the road—caring and
gentle and protective. Her glance moved to his mouth, no longer
harsh, but full and inviting. She wished he would kiss her as he
had before. Instead, she nodded and turned to leave.

“Will you join us at supper?” he asked, and Glory
felt a bubble of happiness swell inside her heart.

“I’d be honored,” she said, facing him again. She
could have sworn his gray eyes lightened.

“Until tonight, then.”

“Until tonight.”

The moment the door closed, Nicholas regretted his
impulsiveness. Why in blazes hadn’t he kept her at a distance? He
had been stunned to see her outside his door; he’d felt sure she
would never speak to him again. He was the one who should have
initiated the apology. Never had a woman deserved one more. But
saying he was sorry was not something Nicholas did well—and
certainly not often. Besides, he didn’t want her friendship. He
didn’t want to be near her again. Now he had no choice.

In the end he missed supper on purpose. Sent Josh
Pintassle in his place. After supper he’d seen the two of them
walking on deck, though he watched them from the shadows and they
hadn’t seen him. Glory seemed more reserved, and she rarely even
glanced at the crew. He guessed his lesson had done some good after
all.

“Tighten that halyard—the fore royal is luffing!” he
snapped to three men on the starboard watch. “Look alive,
soggers!”

“No use takin’ it out on them, lad.” Mac MacDougal
sauntered up beside him with an easy loping gait born of years at
sea.

“What in blazes is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if ye wanted to stroll the deck with the
lass, ye should’ve asked her.”

“Damn you, Mac, the girl’s got nothing to do with
this.”

“No?”

“Of course not. I’m changing course for Bull’s Head
Bay. I want to make the inlet by tomorrow night.”

“Goin’ to see Mistress Ginger, are ye?”

“Why not? We’re making good time. The men could use a
little shore leave and so could I.”

“But the lass has nothing to do with it.”

“Dammit, Mac, I told you before she hasn’t.”

“Aye, so you said.” He ambled toward several crewmen
who were hauling in line. “Bull’s Head Bay. Sounds like a fine idea
to me. Good night to ye, Cap’n.”

A blustery wind ruffled the sails and a full moon
bathed the waters in glistening light as the ship approached Bull’s
Head Bay. Glancing at the tree-lined shore clearly visible in the
moonlight, Nicholas breathed a heart-felt sigh of relief. Off to
one side, tiny lights Nicholas recognized as the Bull’s Head Tavern
beckoned him ashore.

On the second floor of the house next door to the
tavern lived Ginger McKinnes, a buxom wench with hair as black as
the night sea and skin as fair as the whitecaps above it. An
evening in Ginger’s willing arms ought to soothe a little of the
tension he’d been feeling of late. He’d leave only a skeleton crew
aboard, and Joshua Pintassle had already volunteered to watch after
Glory. After a night ashore, they’d weigh anchor at dawn and with
any luck be back on schedule by the following day.

“Furl the sails and heave to,” Nicholas instructed.
The ship slid silently through the water; then he gave the order to
drop anchor. The great chunk of metal plunged into the sea, caught,
and the rode groaned as it tightened, bringing the ship to a
shuddering stop in the quiet swells of the cove.

Since supper had been served several hours earlier,
Nicholas having supped in his cabin, the men were eager to take
their leave. “I’ll expect to see you all back here before first
light,” Nicholas told them. “It’ll go hard for any man who
tarries.” He watched as the men hustled to lower the shore boats,
most wearing broad, knowing grins.

There was no more notorious den of cutthroats and
scoundrels than Bull’s Head Bay—nor a prettier lot of whores.
Ginger was one of the most expensive and most sought-after, but she
always made time for Nicholas. Tonight would be no exception.
Nicholas could hardly wait.

“We’re going ashore?” Glory asked, strolling up
beside Nicholas as more of the crew climbed over the side and down
the rope ladder to the small boats bobbing beside the ship.

“The men are.”

“Madame LaFarge is going, isn’t she? And
Rosa-belle?”

“Rosy’s been sick. She needs some time ashore. Madame
LaFarge intends to ply her trade.”

“I see.” Glory felt her cheeks flame. But Nicholas
seemed preoccupied, and she wondered if it had something to do with
the reason he’d missed supper the past two nights. It galled her
that he’d been ignoring her again.

“Joshua will be staying aboard,” he told her. “You’ll
be safe enough.”

“Why can’t I go ashore with you?” she asked, and
Nicholas glanced away, a little shamefaced, it seemed to Glory.

“Because I have business ashore. Besides, Bull’s Head
Bay is no place for a lady.”

“But surely I’d be safe with you,” she persisted.

“I’ll be too busy to protect your virtue.”

“But that’s not fair. The other women get to go. They
said we could all have a nice hot bath and—”

“Fair or not, you’re staying aboard and that’s
final.” He turned to Nathan, who was sitting on the deck finishing
his lesson with Mac on how to braid hemp into line. “Your mistress
is to remain aboard. Is that understood?”

“Yassa, Cap’n Blackwell.”

Glory silently fumed. Wordlessly, she turned from the
men and stormed toward the bow of the ship.

“Ah, let ’er go ashore, Nicky,” Madame LaFarge
cajoled. “She really wants to go. She kin have ’erself a nice hot
bath upstairs, then sit in the tavern with Rosy whilst I earn a
little pocket change.”

“Not a chance. That place is nothing but a den of
thieves.”

“She could wear one o’ me dresses,” Rosabelle put in.
No one would notice. She’d just be one o’ the girls.” Nicholas
groaned aloud. “Just one of the girls. That’s all I need. Julian
Summerfield’s daughter parading like the queen of Cock Alley.”

“Come on, Nicky,” Madame LaFarge pressed. “Loosen up.
Let the girl have some fun.”

“I said no, and that’s the end of it. I left strict
instructions with the night watch: Once we’re gone, no one’s to
leave this vessel.”

“Wouldn’t be you’re plannin’ on meetin’ Miss Ginger,
now, would it?”

“What I do with my time ashore is none of your
concern.”

Rosabelle giggled. “Kin hardly fault a man fer
wantin’ to relieve his need.”

“I guess not,” Madame LaFarge reluctantly agreed.
“That pretty little blond piece prob’ly has him plumb tied in
knots.”

Nicholas’s dark look blackened.

“Don’t seem right, though,” Madame LaFarge added,
“leavin’ Miss Glory behind jus’ so’s you can relieve the ache in
yer breeches.”

Nicholas stalked away.

From her place behind the galley, Glory fought the
urge to shove him overboard. So the black-hearted rake was meeting
his harlot on shore! He hadn’t meant a word he’d said.
Sorry
. That was a joke. Nicholas Blackwell hadn’t been sorry
a day in his life!

Standing alone in the darkness, Glory watched the
captain’s boat depart, carrying Mac and the last of the crew, while
Joshua made a final turn around the deck. One small boat still
bobbed near the anchor rode. Through her haze of temper, Glory made
a decision: She was going ashore at Bull’s Head Bay. She would
dress up just as Rosabelle suggested, then find the girls at the
tavern. She’d show Nicholas Blackwell he couldn’t order her around
just to satisfy his lusty appetites. It wouldn’t be difficult—with
Nathan to accompany her.

Secretly she hoped against hope she’d run into the
tall sea captain. She’d let him know once and for all he was not
going to dominate her the way he did his crew!

“Nathan, you
have
to take me! If you don’t
I’ll go alone.”

“I don’t like this, Glory. The captain says you’re
supposed to stay aboard.”

“The captain says, the captain says. I’m sick and
tired of doing what the captain says. Don’t you want to see what
it’s like? Where’s your spirit of adventure?”

“Since when did you develop this yen for excitement?”
Nathan wanted to know, and Glory grudgingly admired his
perception.

Adventure was the furthest thing from Glory’s mind.
She wanted a bath, but mostly she wanted to see for herself the
kind of woman Captain Blackwell preferred to her. “Will you take me
or not?” Glory asked.

“No. It’s against the captain’s orders.”

“Fine, then I’ll go alone.” She lowered her chin and
glowered at him furiously.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” When she opened her mouth
to answer, Nathan cut her off. “Never mind. I’ll take you. I’ve
never said no to you in my life. Why should I start now?”

Glory smiled in triumph. “I’ll meet you near the bow
as soon as Joshua retires for the night.”

Nathan sighed resignedly, nodded, and slipped into
the darkness.

Joshua Pintassle returned to Glory’s side.

“I’m awfully tired, Joshua,” she told him. “Would you
mind terribly if I turned in early?”

He looked disappointed. “I suppose not. Though I was
really looking forward to your company.” When she didn’t weaken, he
walked her down the aft ladder to her cabin. She smiled up at him
angelically, walked quietly into her room, and closed the door. The
minute she heard Josh enter his cabin, Glory rushed to where
Rosabelle’s few tattered dresses were hung. Two had been let out to
accommodate her now large girth, but one, a gaudy orange and white
satin creation with stiff white petticoats, awaited the day she’d
be small enough to wear it again.

Glory slipped out of her stylish black day dress and
into Rosabelle’s colorful gown. The gown was a good deal too small,
pushing her breasts suggestively above the bodice and showing too
much ankle beneath the hem. Glory swallowed hard. Knowing what she
must look like, it was all she could do to keep her resolve. But
she let her pale hair down, fluffed it out, and grabbed her cloak.
She’d stay hidden within the folds of the cape, and as she walked,
the color and fabric of her gown would imply she was no more than a
working girl. Satisfied with her plan, she refused to dwell on the
other implications.

Climbing the ladder to the deck, she glanced around,
but took no more than a few steps before a masculine voice stopped
her.

“Evenin’, Miss.” It was the night anchor watch, a
youthful man with shaggy brown hair who stood a good four inches
taller than Glory. Pulling her cloak around her, she prayed he
hadn’t noticed the odd clothing she wore beneath.

“Good evening.” Glory’s heart pounded. Of all the
rotten luck. Now that the man had seen her, there was no way around
it—she’d have to enlist his aid or forget their plan. The man could
be prowling the deck half the night.

“My name’s Glory,” she said, batting her thick dark
lashes. “What’s yours?” The man smiled so broadly Glory counted two
missing teeth, though the sailor looked no more than twenty.

“I’m called Ripley. Ripley Sterns.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sterns.” She extended a
slim-fingered hand, and the sailor accepted it almost reverently.
“You know, Mr. Sterns—” she began, then paused for effect. “May I
call you Ripley?”

Mutely he nodded.

“I feel so foolish, Ripley. Why, I hardly know you,
yet here I am, about to ask for a favor.”

“A favor?” He seemed almost pleased.

“Yes. You see I have to get to shore.”