Captain's Bride (23 page)

Josh beached the first boat, and he and Mac jumped
into the water at the same time. Glory rushed to Mac’s open arms,
hugging him first and then Josh.

“Thank God ye’re both all right,” Mac said, grinning
and looking relieved.

“I knew the captain would make it,” Josh added with a
touch of admiration. The second boat pulled ashore just as the men
turned to greet their captain, and the rest of the crew swarmed
around to welcome him back.

Before the boat had run aground, Nathan jumped into
the surf, and Glory rushed into his arms, laughing and crying at
the same time. “Oh, Nathan . . . Nathan. Thank God you’re all
right. I was so worried.”

Nathan buried his face in her hair, stroking her
cheek and cradling her against him. For a moment he set her away,
combing her from head to toe with his glance to assure himself that
she was all right. Then he hugged her again.

“When the
Spider
went down, I thought you were
on one of the other boats,” he said. “I kept hoping and praying you
were safe. I didn’t find out what happened until the
Black
Witch
picked us up on a beach way south of here. I’ve been sick
with worry ever since. I’d never have forgiven myself if something
had happened.”

“I’m fine, Nathan. Captain Blackwell took very good
care of me.” Feeling a blush creep into her cheeks, she turned her
glance toward shore and saw Nicholas walking away from her toward
their makeshift camp, Josh and Mac close behind.

For the hundredth time since they’d been shipwrecked,
Glory wondered if she should have told Nicholas who Nathan really
was and why they were heading north. She’d been waiting for him to
speak of their future. But she’d waited long enough. As soon as
they reached the ship, she would explain everything. After what
they’d shared these past few weeks, she was certain he’d
understand.

“Gather up anything we can use and load it aboard
the shore boats,” Nicholas commanded several sailors as they
reached the primitive campsite. It was all he could do to control
the edge to his voice.

“Are you all right?” Josh asked. “I know things have
been rough—”

“I’m fine!” Nicholas snapped. “I just want to get off
this miserable stretch of land and back to the ship.”

Josh eyed his friend closely. Nicholas stalked some
distance away, then leaned against a pine tree as if to steady
himself. His face looked pale beneath his swarthy tan, the skin
stretched taut over his angular cheekbones.

Josh gave the necessary orders, and the men loaded
the supplies and headed back to the boats. As they marched along
the sandy beach, Josh heard several of the sailors snickering among
themselves while another made lewd remarks. None had missed the
implications of the tiny shelter with its single wide bed.

Worried at the turn of events, Josh drew his blond
brows together until they formed a narrow line. He wondered if
Glory could be the reason for the captain’s distress. When it came
to women, Nicholas Blackwell had never been one to stand on
principle. He’d wanted her from the start. On the island she had
been at his mercy. But Glory Summerfield was no easy conquest. Her
father had been a powerful man and one of the captain’s closest
friends. Surely Nicholas knew he would be forced to marry her.
Whatever the cause, the look on his friend’s face said something
was definitely wrong.

“Mr. Pintassle!” Nicholas’s harsh command broke
Josh’s reverie. “Look alive, man! Get those goods loaded and let’s
make way.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Mac McDougal slapped Nicholas on the shoulder.
“Simmer down, lad. Ye’ve been stranded here fer the better part o’
three weeks. A few more minutes will make no never-mind.”

Nicholas only nodded. He found it nearly impossible
to speak in a normal tone of voice. Even now he could see Glory
climbing aboard the second shore boat, holding another man’s hand.
When she’d rushed into Nathan’s arms, Nicholas felt as if she’d
thrust a knife into his heart.

Not since his childhood, not since his mother
deserted him, had Nicholas cried, but he fought to keep the tears
from welling now. His chest felt so tight he could barely breathe.
How could he have been such a fool? He wasn’t some green youth just
off the boat. He was a grown man. One who was supposed to know
women—he’d certainly pleasured more than his share! He had only
been with Glory a few weeks. How could he have let her get so close
to him? Let her convince him she cared?

How could he have come to love her so much?

Nicholas and the others returned to the beach and
climbed aboard the shore boats. As the men rowed toward the ship,
Nicholas glanced across the waves to where Glory sat beside the man
called Nathan. He’d draped one arm over her shoulder as if
protecting her from the sailors’ questioning stares. She smiled up
at him, her eyes filled with love. She didn’t even try to disguise
it.

Nicholas turned away, cursing his own stupidity. Why
had he let himself believe she was different? Why had he dared to
fall in love?

Nicholas set his jaw and clenched his fists. And
slowly, as he’d taught himself to do, he turned his agony into
rage.

The woman had duped him, tricked him into loving her.
To her what they’d shared meant nothing more than physical
pleasure. The man called Nathan was the one she loved. He’d seen it
as she rushed into his arms. He saw it now as she smiled into the
man’s handsome face. She’d been a virgin, all right. But she had
given him her virginity just to insure her protection. She’d used
him, made a fool of him in every way. She had probably been
laughing at him all along, thinking what an easy mark he was, what
a lovesick fool.

In that moment, if Nicholas could have put his hands
around her slender neck he would have choked the life out of her.
The rage he felt surpassed anything he had ever known. For the
first time he understood how a man could kill someone he loved in a
fit of temper—and how his father could have turned to drink to
forget the woman he loved.

Nicholas forced his gaze to the sleek ship bobbing at
anchor just a few hundred yards away. The pain he felt settled into
a slow aching throb as he forced himself under control. She isn’t
worth it, he told himself. She’s just a woman, like all the others
you’ve known. Just like your mother. All the hatred, all the
loneliness and despair he’d bottled up inside for all these years,
Nicholas now turned on Glory.

A quiet calm washed over him, and he turned in her
direction. She was laughing softly, the crystalline sound he had
loved suddenly grating on his ears. His mouth narrowed to a cold,
thin line, and Nicholas felt his icy calm turn to brutal
resolve.

Taking a deep steadying breath, he braced himself
against the side of the boat and watched the
Black Witch
growing closer with each stroke of the oars. A slow, mirthless
smile curved one comer of his mouth.

“Bring up the anchor rode, Mr. Pintassle. Let’s make
way.” Nicholas turned from Josh toward a man who stood beside him.
“I’ll be taking command from here on out, Captain Durant. And I
thank you for all you’ve done.” A tall, spare man with a seaman’s
full beard, Captain Durant stood at the helm in his immaculate navy
blue uniform, the brass buttons and gold braid flashing in the
afternoon sun.

“I wish I could have brought them all back safely,”
Durant said. “But Mac saw the missing boat go under. He couldn’t
reach them, but he’s sure none of them survived. There’s no point
in searching farther. All in all the casualties were exceedingly
low.”

Nicholas nodded. “A sinking’s always disastrous. I
just thank God there weren’t more.”

“Nicholas?” Glory stepped forward, holding the stiff
wool blanket over her ragged garments. Mac and Nathan walked up
behind her.

“Ah, if it isn’t my pretty roommate, Miss
Summerfield.” He turned his attention to his second mate. “Mac,
I’ll be escorting her ladyship to my cabin. You take her . . .
servant
below. If memory serves, he’s to spend the balance
of the voyage in the brig.”

Nathan’s head snapped up, and Glory sucked in a
breath. “Nicholas, you can’t be serious! After what he’s been
through, surely he’s more than paid for disobeying your
orders.”

“Mac,” Nicholas repeated.

Mac gave the captain a lengthy stare, then sighed
resignedly. “Aye, Captain. Ye best be following me, lad,” he said
to Nathan. “It won’t be fer long.”

Nathan touched Glory’s arm in a warning gesture,
giving her a look that clearly told her to let the matter be. Then
he followed Mac below decks.

“Come with me,” Nicholas commanded, his attention
focused on Glory.

“Nicholas, there’s something you don’t understand,”
she told him as she followed him along the deck.

He turned to face her. “I think it would be best if
you addressed me as Captain.” Before she could speak, he walked off
toward the aft ladder, descended, and continued down the
passageway. Glory trailed behind. Wordlessly, he opened the door to
the captain’s cabin, a splendidly furnished room much more spacious
than the one he had occupied aboard the
Spider
.

Glory stepped inside. “I hate to put you out,
Captain
.”

“Believe me, you aren’t.”

Glory couldn’t believe his tone of voice: harsh,
brittle, almost jeering. “There’s something I need to tell you,”
she said simply.

“Really? I hate to miss your theatrics, but I already
know about you and Nathan.”

“You do?”

“I’ve known almost from the start.”

She felt a rush of relief. “I’ve been afraid to tell
you. Afraid you wouldn’t understand.”

“Ah, but I do, so you needn’t concern yourself any
further.” He strode across the room and opened an ornately carved
mahogany wardrobe. “You’ll find some dresses and underthings in
here. There’s a needle and thread in the top drawer of the bureau
if you need to make alterations. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have
work to do.”

“But what about Nathan?”

“He stays where he is.” Without a backward glance, he
turned and left the room, slamming the door just a little harder
than necessary, it seemed to Glory.

Stunned, she stared after him. What on earth was the
matter with him? Surely he was just preoccupied with his duties.
Their relationship couldn’t have changed that drastically in one
short hour. She would talk to him after supper, she resolved. Once
the ship was under way, he might be more relaxed. Perhaps he’d see
reason and let Nathan go.

Then she remembered the stern sea captain who had
commanded the
Black Spider—
a man far different from the
warm, giving man she’d come to love on the strand— and began to
have her doubts.

Nicholas didn’t come in to supper. Glory fidgeted
throughout the sumptuous meal served in the elegant officers’
wardroom. It was obvious the
Black Witch
was Nicholas’s most
prized possession. His flawless taste was evident from the massive
carved wooden beams to the ornate brass sconces on the walls.
Wishing he would join them, she let her gaze stray toward the door,
watching for him, waiting for him to come into the room and grace
her with one of his secret warm smiles.

Earlier, after he’d left the cabin, she had found the
dresses, just as Nicholas had said, and though they were several
inches too short, she was able to nip them in at the waist and make
them fit. She wondered what they were doing in his cabin and felt a
stab of jealousy that another woman had once shared his room.
Necessity forced her to wear the dresses, so she shoved thoughts of
whom they belonged to from her mind.

The gown she had chosen for supper was an elegant
green brocade. Worn off the shoulder, the dress had a soft sweeping
ruffle that trimmed the low neckline and nearly touched her elbows.
The dropped-V bodice accented her tiny waist. Glory had twisted her
pale blond hair into smooth chignons at either side of her neck and
the effect was astounding. She’d almost forgotten how pretty she
could look. She didn’t miss Josh’s appreciate glance, or the way
Captain Durant’s eyes drifted to the swells of her cleavage.

She hoped Nicholas liked her appearance. She was
worried about Nathan and more than a little worried about what
Nicholas planned for their future. She refused to dwell on the way
he'd treated her earlier. He was just preoccupied, nothing
more.

Josh and Captain Durant were excellent company
throughout the meal, which was also attended by the
Black
Witch’s
first mate, William Allen, a dark-featured, broadfaced
seaman in his mid-thirties.

As interesting as the men were, Glory had trouble
following their conversation. She was anxious to speak with
Nicholas, to settle things between them. Maybe tonight he would
offer marriage. She knew by now every man in the crew was aware
they’d shared a bed on the strand: She’d seen the looks and the
lewd smiles that passed between them. Surely Nicholas had seen
them, too.

Toward the end of the meal, Glory gave up watching
for him. She declined a glass of sherry, pleaded a headache, and
returned to her cabin. Disappointed and more than a little
frustrated, she began preparing for bed. She had just finished
brushing out her hair when a key grated in the heavy metal lock and
the door swung open.

Nicholas stood in the doorway, a brass whale-oil
lantern in his hand. Feeling the familiar rush of warmth he always
stirred, Glory smiled warmly and rose from her seat in front of the
ornate cherrywood-framed mirror. “I’m so glad you came,” she said,
walking toward him.

“Are you?” He lifted a winged black brow. Looking
away from her, he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Glory’s eyes widened as he tugged the shirt from his
breeches. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” he told her calmly.