Of Noble Birth (23 page)

Trenton paused, as if
trying to put sufficient thought into his next words. “Nathaniel, a
couple of years spent picking the pockets of the unwary just to get
a bite to eat numbed my conscience years ago. I have felt no guilt
about stealing from the duke. And I’m not overly worried about
Newgate or whatever our final punishment will be if we’re caught. I
figure I’ll deserve it by then; I’ve always expected such an end
anyway. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t know if I’m the best
person to offer advice, but if living a pirate’s life is troubling
you, there’s no reason you can’t change.”

“Aye. I wish it were so
easy.” Nathaniel stared into space. “I can’t explain it or even
understand it, but there’s a part of me that has ahold of this
thing, and I can’t let it go.”

“What does that say for
Alexandra?”

Nathaniel steeled himself
against the pang of sadness that the thought of life without
Alexandra provoked. “It says nothing. I’m taking her back, just
like I planned.”

* * *

Nanchu was spooning clear
broth into Alexandra’s mouth when Nathaniel entered. She glanced up
as he shut the door, her eyes like saucers in her pale face, and
Nathaniel felt a twinge of guilt. Despite Nanchu’s assurances that
the bullet had passed cleanly through her shoulder without causing
any major damage, Nathaniel worried that the wound would not heal
well.

And he knew it should be
he convalescing in that bed from a bullet wound, not some poor
girl.

“This patient know what
good for her,” Nanchu said as Alexandra continued to obediently sip
soup from the spoon he held out to her. “Unlike young
man.”

“The marquess still won’t
allow the poultices?” Nathaniel asked in surprise.

Nanchu shook his head. “I
cannot force a fool from his foolishness.”

Nathaniel frowned. He’d
moved his half brother into the purser’s cabin where the boy could
be more closely watched, but the knowledge of who Jake was didn’t
help his popularity among the crew. The boy had as much pride and
arrogance as their father, but very little wisdom. “Then there’s
nothing we can do. Perhaps mettle alone will save his hand. It’s
saved me on occasion.”

Nanchu gave a snort that
let Nathaniel know he disagreed about the Marquess of Clifton
possessing any such redeeming trait. “Come.” He motioned Nathaniel
toward the bed. “If you please, finish here? Henry waiting in sick
bay. Need to check arm before his watch.”

Henry was a member of the
crew who had fallen from the rigging several days earlier and
broken his arm. Nathaniel didn’t doubt that the man needed
attention, but he hesitated to perform the task of feeding
Alexandra. It was easier to keep up a shield of indifference when
he wasn’t so close to her.

He glanced toward the bed,
frowned, considered making some excuse, then chided himself for
being weak-willed. Taking the bowl Nanchu held out to him, he moved
irritably into the doctor’s place.

“See she eats to last
drop.” Nanchu clasped his hands in a prayer-like attitude and bowed
his head in Alexandra’s direction.

Alexandra gave the doctor
a smile, and Nathaniel noticed how it made her face light up. The
dark rings around her eyes became less conspicuous. Her cheeks
bloomed with a bit of their usual color, and her hair, cascading
onto the pillows in wild disarray, looked as soft as silk and more
tempting to his hand than spun gold.

Nathaniel wondered what it
would feel like to entwine his fingers in those golden tresses and
pull, forcing her head back to receive his kiss. Then he wished he
could pass the bowl back to Nanchu and head to the deck or to
Trenton’s cabin—anywhere his heart was safe from melting. But the
little doctor had already left the room.

Alexandra glanced up at
him expectantly, long dark lashes making a perfect frame for her
big green eyes.

Nathaniel let his scowl
darken, hoping to discourage her from smiling again, or looking at
him, or doing anything else that might make him want to touch her.
She had complicated his life enough already. The revelations of the
day had burdened him alternately with guilt, anger, and
chagrin.

He filled the spoon and
held it to her lips, but it was difficult to concentrate on the
soup. She wore one of his own shirts, her dress no longer
serviceable after the rigors it had been through, and the swell of
her breasts beneath the cloth lured him to distraction. The thought
of her naked beneath his clothes made the blood pound in his ears
until suddenly he laughed, his voice ringing loud in the
silence.

“What is it?” Alexandra
asked.

Nathaniel didn’t answer;
he just grinned, remembering how he had thought himself a pervert,
a deviant, to be so attracted to his sister. Now he reveled in the
knowledge that he was completely normal after all—and decided to
seek a little revenge for the sleepless nights her impersonation of
Anne had put him through.

“What is it?” Alexandra
repeated, smiling with the contagion of his mirth.

“I was only thinking that
you must feel very strongly about me, to have taken that bullet the
way that you did.”

“I must?” Alexandra
laughed herself. “I don’t know why I was foolish enough to jump in
front of you, but I doubt it stemmed from anything more than
impulse.”

Her color deepened,
contradicting her words, and Nathaniel warmed to his game. Placing
the soup on the table, he sat on the edge of the bed and took her
hand in his. “You wouldn’t have saved my life if you didn’t care
for me.”

Alexandra snatched her
hand away, looking uncomfortable, as though she didn’t know what to
do at this odd turn in his behavior. “What I feel doesn’t matter.”
She glanced at the bowl of soup. “Aren’t you going to feed me any
more? Nanchu said I should eat it all—”

“You can try to change the
subject,” Nathaniel replied, gently caressing her arm with his
knuckles, “but I have a way of learning the truth.”

He admired the delicate
arch of her brows as she raised them. “I think you must be well
into your cups.”

Nathaniel had enjoyed more
than his usual mug of rum for dinner. Everyone had. There was
precious little to eat, and drink filled the belly. But he doubted
the alcohol had half as much effect upon him as the softness of
Alexandra’s skin. “I’m drunk only on desire,” he
admitted.

Alexandra’s eyes flew
wide, like those of a startled child, as he retrieved her hand and
kissed the tip of each finger.

“What are you doing? I’m
not well,” she said breathlessly.

Nathaniel smiled, enjoying
her discomfiture. He let her go, but only to shift his position on
the bed so he could hover over her.

“You’re beautiful.” He let
his hand delve into her thick curls as he had longed to do.
Twisting the shining tresses around each finger, he pulled gently
until Alexandra’s head tilted back and her breath fanned his
face.

Nathaniel expected her to
object, but she didn’t. She merely closed her eyes, like someone
savoring the feel of the sun on her cheeks.

He bowed closer. Alexandra
wore no cologne—she had none—but her skin smelled slightly of soap.
After the heavy perfumes many women wore to camouflage the reek of
everyday perspiration and dirt, the mere absence of such appealed
to him. He nuzzled her neck and ear, taking in the clean, sweet
scent of her.

“I want you,” he said,
longing to kiss her.

Alexandra’s lids fluttered
opened. “Don’t,” she whispered, but the word held no conviction,
and she didn’t resist or pull away. She waited, her mouth slightly
parted, watching him beneath her lashes.

Nathaniel bent his head
until his lips lightly touched hers. Velvety soft, full and
promising, her mouth moved beneath his own until he could control
himself no longer. His grip tightened on her hair as he parted her
lips, then he groaned in pleasure when she allowed his tongue
access to her own.

Alexandra’s hand climbed
up his arm to circle his neck, and Nathaniel had to struggle to
keep his passion in check. She was injured; he didn’t want to hurt
her. Forcing himself to use some restraint, he left her lips to
travel kisses across her cheek and nibble at her earlobe with his
teeth.

“Wait...” She gasped as
his tongue darted into her ear. He blew gently on the wetness it
left behind, feeling a degree of satisfaction when her body
quivered against him.

“Alexandra, sweet
Alexandra, how you have plagued my dreams,” he whispered,
alternating between sucking her earlobe and slipping his tongue
into her ear again.

“Nathaniel—” Her hands
reached for his hair and tugged him back for another kiss. As he
drank from the wetness of her mouth, he feared he’d lose himself
and simply drown. His body was making commitments his mind could
not keep, yet he felt as powerless to resist as a leaf tossed
against the wind.

It took all of his focus
to pull away. When he did, Alexandra’s face was flushed, and he
could hear the soft pant of her breathing.

Suddenly Nathaniel was
angry—angry with Alexandra for complicating his life when he least
needed it, angry with his father for filling his heart with hatred
until he had no chance at love, but mostly angry with himself for
walking too close to the flame of his attraction. He wanted
Alexandra, so much that it rankled to deny himself. Yet he couldn’t
take advantage of her innocence, especially after all she’d been
through because of him. She wanted things he could not give her: a
husband and a family. There was no place in his life for a woman.
There was room only in his bed.

Quickly putting the
distance of several feet between them, he moved away. “You’re a
witch, fair maiden,” he murmured, admiring Alexandra’s stormy eyes
and her hair, tousled by his own hand. Then, afraid her beauty
would weaken his resolve, he turned and left.

Slamming the door behind
him, Nathaniel strode briskly down the companionway, heading up on
deck. He needed the chill night air to cool his body and his mind,
but movement in the hall behind him made him turn. Rat approached,
carrying a lantern and singing some bawdy song about a sailor and
his woman as he hurried toward the hatch, no doubt intent upon
gathering with some of the others to do more drinking.

The little man froze when
he recognized Nathaniel. “Cap’n? Is somethin’ wrong?”

Even from several feet
away, Nathaniel could smell alcohol on Rat’s breath and guessed
he’d already had a great deal more than his daily share of rum.
“Where are you coming from?”

“I just took my turn
standin’ watch over the marquess. This voyage ‘as certainly turned
into a family affair, eh?” Rat’s grin led Nathaniel to believe he
knew, or at least suspected, Alexandra was not Anne. It looked more
like a leer in the shifting light of the lantern.

Instantly alarmed,
Nathaniel asked, “Who put you on the schedule?” He wanted to keep
Rat as far away from Jake—from Clifton—as possible, and he’d
thought he’d made that sufficiently clear to Trenton
already.

“Daniel took sick, so I
told ‘im I’d take ‘is watch.”

“He took sick, or he drank
himself into a stupor?” Nathaniel asked.

Rat laughed. “Well, ‘tis
not far from the same thing, aye?”

The knowledge that his
orders had been undermined stoked Nathaniel’s wrath like a fresh
log on a roaring fire. “Why didn’t you get Trenton’s approval
first?”

“I was only doin’ the
bloke a favor. Didn’t think it’d be necessary.”

“You were wrong. It’s very
necessary. If someone can’t take their turn, I want you to come
find me. Do you understand?”

“Aye, but—”

“Just follow orders,”
Nathaniel ground out. “You got that?” Unable to abide Rat ever
since the incident with Alexandra in his cabin, Nathaniel pounded
his finger into the smaller man’s chest.

“What’d I say? What’d I
do?” Rat cried in alarm, stepping back.

When he heard the
defensiveness in Rat’s voice, Nathaniel dropped his hand. He was
overwrought and probably just looking for a target, but it goaded
him that Rat had been left in charge of his half brother. Nathaniel
didn’t trust the little thief. Trenton and the others had to be
more careful.

“Go below and get some
sleep,” he admonished, and Rat fled.