Oceanswept (11 page)

T
he intimacy of the moment evaporated like sea mist in a hot sun. A heavy feeling found its way into the quiet night as Nicholas’s comment sunk in.

He did not want me. Well, maybe he did. But he couldn’t take care of me—or wouldn’t. A small part of me had started to imagine a dream with only Nicholas, a world where he would always be with me.

I tried to hide my hurt as I said, “I have thought of it, too, and I think returning to London would be the best course of action.”

“London?” he asked weakly. I couldn’t read his face.

I shrugged. “It is the only place I know anyone at all. Perhaps an old family friend would take me in.”

“London.” His voice was practical. “Makes sense.” After a long pause he continued, “You will need to get to Barbados or St. Kitts. You’ll find regular sailings to London from one of those ports.” He continued to trace delicate patterns my hand.

I felt hollow. My time with Nicholas had taken an unwanted turn. I wished to get lost in his solace. I wanted his sureness to comfort me and blot out the horrors of the day. I longed for his closeness, his warmth. But we were cold now, leagues apart though our fingers still mingled.

I hated thinking of what would come next. Returning to London was a dreadful notion, but it was the only choice I had. I did not want to think about it at all. I wanted to forget all that had happened today and what would happen tomorrow.

But Nicholas would not let me forget. He seemed all too eager to plan my departure. Hadn’t he just said he wanted to be the one to take care of me? Obviously, he only intended to care for me until he could pass the responsibility to someone else.

What had I been thinking? We were from separate worlds. He had his life at sea and seemed so content. I had nothing, not anywhere. Not even here. A frustrated ball of anger pitted in my stomach.

I pulled my hand from Nicholas’s grasp and stood. “If you will excuse me, I am rather tired.” I kept my words formal. I was crestfallen that things between us were not as I had thought. “I will show myself to the cabin. Have a pleasant night.”

As I turned to walk away, Nicholas called in surprise, “Tessa, wait.”

He sprang up and was instantly beside me, gathering my hand in his.

“Yes?” I answered passively.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I can’t help but feel that something is wrong,” he pressed, wide eyed.

That ball of anger in my stomach spread. I was a fool, falling for Nicholas and his erratic emotions. I was simply a pleasant distraction, but not worth keeping around. He could not alter his life just for me. It was foolish of me to expect that. And now he realized it too. I did not need to wait for his explanations. The rejection was already stinging. Why let it get any worse?

“Of course something is wrong,” I exploded, yanking my hand from his grasp. “You are a pirate. A romantic night under the moonlight won’t change a thing.” I continued my exit.

“Wait!” he called again, rushing to catch up to me. He stood in front of the ladder, blocking my way. “What just happened?”

“Please let me pass.”

“You’re upset. Did I upset you?”

Not answering his question, I moved to pass him on the ladder. He did not let me.

“Just talk to me. I know what you have been through today, but I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling—”

“I’ll tell you what I’m feeling. I am feeling…angry and sad and alone and…angry! You are so
infuriating
!”

“
I’m
infuriating? I’m not the one who just switched personalities.”

“Will you let me finish?”

Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Please, finish.”

I struggled to find the words. “I think I know you. And everything changes. You befriend me. You deceive me. You imprison me. You risk your life for me. And now this! After everything—after the things you’ve said and the way you made me feel…And now, now you’re treating me like a bale of cotton that you’ll keep in the hold until you can unload me at some convenient port! I can’t tolerate it anymore. I am
not
a bale of cotton and I will not allow myself—”

His lips crushed into mine, a solid arm cinching around my waist, pulling me into his firm body, kissing me deeply. The angry ball in my stomach grew larger, furious at his shameless arrogance. But I was too startled to protest. His mouth was hungry and rough. And so suddenly that it surprised me, the angry ball in my stomach evaporated into butterflies. Nicholas kept his eyes open, catching my gaze when I dared to look at him, sending shivers of excitement to my toes. His intensity overwhelmed me, and I was swept up in the splendor of his kiss.

When I finally pulled away, I felt dizzy. Before I could catch my breath—and my racing thoughts—Nicholas pulled me back in. I thought briefly of resisting, but instantly succumbed to his insisting kiss. I shut my eyes and my lips melted into his, finding a rhythm that pulsed with my blood.

Nicholas stepped back abruptly, looked squarely in my eyes and said, “You are a complete lunatic. Sleep well.”

He strode past me casually and leaned forward on the bow of the ship without so much as a backward glance. I stared after him for a moment in complete disbelief, then dashed down the ladder, across the deck, and into the cabin.

M
y mind was reeling. I tore off my dress and flopped onto the bed. I shut my eyes tightly and willed myself to fall asleep, knowing it would be impossible. I deepened my breathing, hoping to settle my racing blood. A storm of emotions surged within me. I could still feel the pressure of Nicholas’s lips on mine and see the determination of his stare.

As I sorted through my jumbled thoughts and the words leading up to the kiss, my fury returned.

How could he just dismiss me like that, after everything that had happened today? He gambled his life to save mine, then acted as though it meant nothing. He said things I had only dreamed of hearing, then swept them aside like clutter on a table. 

And the kiss.

I had never been kissed. Not like that.

My lips felt as if they were on fire. I touched them to be sure they weren’t.

Nothing Nicholas did made any sense. Was his kiss a declaration? From any other suitor, I would unequivocally think so. But with Nicholas…I couldn’t be sure. He was a gallant swashbuckler and romance came naturally. Maybe he would be the same way with any girl on any given day.

I pressed my fists against my eyes. I hated feeling so helpless, so confused. Being near Nicholas altered my judgment the way a vein of ore upsets a compass. How could I sort my thoughts with him outside my door? I was at sea; I couldn’t just walk away.

Even if I could—would I?

As angry as I was with Nicholas, I only wanted to be with him. Why couldn’t I just go find him, talk to him, be with him?

Even if I could set aside my pride, would he want to talk to me? The way he turned his back on me after he kissed me…the memory made me burn. He took what he wanted when it was convenient for him, and I was left in that aftermath.

I pounded the lumpy pillow and rearranged myself on the wooden excuse of a bed. I fussed and fumed late into the night, trying to distract myself by reciting poetry from memory and conjugating Latin verbs. But when my mind was not preoccupied with some fully engaging activity, thoughts of Nicholas instantly appeared.

I replayed every conversation we’d had that day. And I replayed the kiss—frequently. Every time I remembered the heat from his mouth or his firm grip around my waist, my stomach flipped erratically.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway and Nicholas let himself into the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

Finally, he must have come to his senses and was here to offer an apology.

Mulling over whether or not I would accept it, I propped myself on an elbow.

Nicholas paced the tiny cabin, paying me no attention at all. He was absorbed in his own mind, breathing heavily. The scene of this tall man stooped over and pacing back and forth in this puny room would have been quite comical if I had not sensed his growing anger.

I waited another moment for him to let me in on this new game of his before asking, “What’s wrong?”

Only after I spoke did Nicholas glance at me. He seemed almost surprised that I was there, lying in the bed.

“Everything,” he responded darkly as he continued his truncated pacing.

I waited for further explanation but Nicholas did not offer one. “And
I’m
the infuriating one.” I flopped onto my back and pulled the covers over my eyes.

He sighed heavily. “The crew is having a meeting. Discussing the mutiny, voting in a new captain. I assumed that they would choose me.”

“And they didn’t,” I added when he failed to finish. “That must be very disappointing.” Maybe he’d notice my sarcastic jab.

Nicholas growled, turning towards me. His hands were in fists. “It is not about disappointment, Tessa. I do not
want
to be captain. But I am afraid of what will happen if anyone else
is
.”

“Oh.” My voice softened as I realized this wasn’t some kind of manipulative performance.

“I think they’ll put in a bloke named Diggot.”

“And he’s a problem?” I asked, keeping my voice hushed.

“Aye. A right suspicious fellow. He’s a bawdy old gossip, but he’s popular for reasons I have never understood.”

“Have you appealed to them? Explained about this Diggot fellow? Maybe they will listen to you. You’re quite popular yourself.”

“I’ve tried. It’s beyond that.”

“So you don’t like the captain. Put up with him awhile and as soon as the voyage is over, leave this crew and join another.”

Nicholas stopped his pacing long enough to stare me down with a look of severe condescension. “You don’t understand. This is a pirate ship. The crew doesn’t take kindly to an accomplice jumping ship and making nice with a group of enemies.”

“So go back to carpentry. You could have your own shop now.”

“You don’t understand!” He said again, his voice getting louder. “I am a
criminal
. I can’t bloody well walk off this ship and become a respectable landowner with chickens and cows.
I don’t have that luxury
.”

I shrank back. “I understand,” I snapped. “You dislike the captain and cannot do much about it. It’s not ideal, but it’s not the end of the world.”

He wheeled on me, grabbing my shoulders. “Dammit, Tessa! He thinks you need to hang!”

His face froze in horror. He had not intended to say those words.

“Hang?” My voice cracked.

Nicholas stood and faced away. Quietly he added, “The crew agrees with him.”

My pulse thudded behind my ears. I imagined I would hear the sound even louder with a noose strangling me.

“Maybe we can delay it,” I thought out loud, my logic coming back slowly. “At least until we make port somewhere.”

Nicholas nodded, pressing his palm to his forehead. He was still avoidant; there was more he was not telling me.

“Nicholas.”

He glanced at me.

I sat up, tucking the blanket under my arms for modesty. “Please sit by me.”

He sank next to me on the bed, tense and agitated. I touched his hand and he was suddenly still.

“We can figure this out,” I said, “but you need to tell me everything.”

“I’m so sorry, Tessa. I did not mean to do this to you. I did not come here to shout at you and frighten you; I just needed somewhere to think. I am so
frustrated
! Things are out of control. Things I thought I could handle. And I don’t know what to do. Everyone can see that I have an agenda that is different from theirs. And they do not like it. I don’t know why. It doesn’t hurt them. But the more I resist them, the more distrustful they get. And when I try to keep quiet and go along easily, they steer things in a direction that is simply unacceptable. Everything I do…Nothing helps. It just keeps getting worse.”

We both sighed.

“So they still want to hang me. Can we delay a few days? Make it into port?”

“Maybe. Maybe there could be a retrial,” Nicholas mumbled to himself, sounding logical for the first time. “A new captain would need to levy the accusations, hold the trial, decide the punishment.” He met my gaze and said, “It might buy us a couple days. Maybe that might work.”

I nodded eagerly, trying to give Nicholas hope I did not feel myself.

“You would go back to the brig.”

I bit my lip. Maybe I would rather hang.

I nodded again.

“Maybe a raid. Yes, that would work.” Nicholas stood, his eyes flashing.  “I’ll order an attack on the next ship we see. In the commotion, no one would notice if you escaped. Skidmore would help.”

It was a miserable plan: attacking a random ship just to cause a diversion.

“No.”

He looked at me, confused. “Huh?”

“I cannot have that on my head. I cannot let you stage a raid just for me.”

“It will save your life!”

“But cost so many others! I could never live with myself.”

“Dammit, Tessa. I will not see you hanged. I’ll kill everyone in these blasted seas if it will keep you alive.”

I looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Find another way.”

“Fine. No raiding. But maybe we could lay chase as if we were going to. Give us a little more time.”

“As long as you guarantee the raid will fail.”

“They fail more often than you think. Especially with a new, pompous captain—bound for failure, really. I’d control the direction and take us near a port. It would be easy to convince Diggot to stop to sell our goods, make trade, and resupply. Yes. It will be perfect.”

“Then I could sneak away. You could help me. Somehow I would make my way to St. Kitts, find someone who would have known my father—the governor ought to help me and send me back to London if necessary.”

Nicholas stared at me incredulously.

“It might be a bit complicated, but it will work,” I reassured him. “I can do it.”

“Yes, you could,” he conceded, but I could tell he was thinking of something else.

“What?” I prodded, suspicious of the far-off gaze in his eyes. “You don’t think I can?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I can give you funds to sail to St. Kitts.” His voice was sullen. I sensed that something more was bothering him.

“There’s something else. What is it?”

He shook his head sadly. “I thought I might escort you.”

“Yes! That would be brilliant!”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can. If you think that I will not let you, that it would be improper—”

“It is necessary for me to stay here. Prevent them from pursuing you.”

“Oh.” I felt as sullen as Nicholas sounded.

We sat quietly, mulling over the haphazard plan. Nicholas looked at me, his expression pained. He leaned in close and pressed his lips against mine.

“I have to keep reminding myself that you do not belong here,” he murmured. “You are a lady. I can’t keep trying to turn you in to something you are not.”

“And what is it you are trying to turn me in to?”

“Mine.”