Pleasures of a Tempted Lady (31 page)

Meg shuddered. She should have predicted Caversham would find out all about Will. She’d been so stupid.

“I sent the
Defiant
on her merry way back to the West Indies for her next shipment while I hurried to Liverpool via coach,” Caversham continued. “I intended to catch you when you boarded Langley’s steamship. However, one of my spies saw you today at the packet offices buying passage to New York and then inquiring about inns in the area. By the time you left the Angel Inn tonight, we were already outside devising a plan to break in to your room. How easy you made it for me, Miss Donovan—you have eliminated the potentially embarrassing situation of me having to face your lover.” He gave her a cold smile. “It seems you have used Captain Langley very poorly indeed. You seduced him, didn’t you? You allowed him to think he was being the gallant and protecting you when you had plans to leave him all along. Either that or you knew I was close and you were making one final attempt to throw me off your scent.” Lifting his thin, long nose into the air, he sniffed several times. “Alas, all your efforts were useless. Even in the stench of this city, I could smell your nearness. I’m like a hound, you know. Nay, better than a hound. I was so very close to you in London. Just a day or two behind, was I not? Even with the bit of confusion with your sister, it was only a matter of time before I caught up to you once and for all.”

“Confusion with my sister?” she whispered.

“Ah. You didn’t hear about that?”

Weakly, she shook her head.

He held tighter on to her arm but continued to walk at a leisurely pace. “My keen nose led me to your twin at her home in St. James’s Square. Unfortunately, for a time, I believed she was you.” He shrugged. “It was a minor inconvenience.”

She groaned softly.

“Really, Miss Donovan, you never mentioned how very identical you and your twin are.”

“We’re not identical at all,” she said instantly, and then regretted it. It was never wise to naysay Jacob Caversham.

He drew her to a stop and politely inclined his head, once again gesturing back to his carriage following behind them at a snail’s pace. The brutes were back there, too, watching Meg closely, clearly daring her to try something.

“Now,” Caversham said graciously. “My carriage, if you please?”

“What do you intend to do with us?” she grated out.

“Why, I intend to raise my son to be a gentleman.”

Yes, like you, Mr. Caversham. Such a fine gentleman.

“And you”—Caversham’s voice lowered, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in the semblance of a smile that made her blood run cold—“I’ll deal with you once we’re out to sea.”

“Deal with you” meant that he planned to kill her, certainly.

He leaned forward, a gleam lighting his blue eyes in the darkness. “You know, Miss Donovan, Sarah once told me your deepest fear.”

She closed her eyes. He’d always known her deepest fear; had used it to threaten her over and over. And now
he was about to do it again, although this time she had the sinking feeling he intended to make good on his threat.

“I suppose it makes sense, since you would have drowned that day so many years ago had I not found you,” he continued. “I gave you eight extra years of life, but I think that’s enough. I think the best thing to do—the right thing to do—is to put you back where I found you. In the middle of the ocean. No land, no ships, no hope in sight.” His smile widened. “Now, my carriage, if you please.”

“No, thank you,” she said, her tone as brittle as glass. “I believe I’d prefer to stay here. On dry land.”

Caversham raised a single thin black brow. “What? You reject my hospitality? Come, Miss Donovan. I’m afraid you have little choice in the matter.”

She hefted Jake onto her hip and looked him in the eye, realizing that drawing the attention of the nearby pedestrians was her last hope. “I’ll scream.”

He gave her a pleasant smile. “You’ll regret it if you do.”

She knew he spoke the truth. And yet, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—go willingly into that carriage and certain death.

She lunged off the footpath and onto the road, running as fast as she could, calling out, “Help me! Someone, please help—”

One of the brutes caught her arm, spinning her around to face him. She recognized the butt of the pistol a split second before it smashed down on her head.

It wasn’t easy to find information about a single woman and child in a large town in the middle of the night. Where the hell had she gone?

Late that night, frustrated and empty-handed, Will returned to his quarters on the
Endeavor
and fell into a brief, restless sleep. At dawn he rose and began the search again.

His first stop was at the docks, where he scoured through the ships that took passengers and were leaving the area in the next few days.

And, finally, he found something.

The clerk at the offices for the Black Ball Line said he’d seen a woman and child of Meg’s and Jake’s description last evening, just before he’d closed the office. They’d purchased passage on the
William Thompson
bound for New York this morning.

Will rushed straight to the ship, which was scheduled to have sailed ten minutes ago but hadn’t yet. Once there, he yelled up to the seaman tying off the shrouds. “Good morning, lad.”

The boy tipped his hat. “Mornin’, sir.”

Will met the boy at the top of the stair leading to the deck. “I’m looking for a passenger on your vessel.”

“Oh, aye? We’ve only a few this sailing.”

“A lady—Miss Donovan, and a young boy.”

“We’ve no ladies or lads aboard, sir. Sorry.” He turned away.

“Wait!” Will called. “Are you sure?”

“Dead sure, sir. There’s two couples what’s married, and six gentlemen on their own.” He frowned. “Though the cap’n did say we had a party that didn’t show.”

“Who?”

A sailor toward the bow called out an order, and the boy gave Will an apologetic look. “Sorry, sir, but I couldn’t say. You ought to ask the cap’n.”

He would. A seaman tried to stop him, but he talked his way past the man and found the captain on the bridge. The man looked him up and down disdainfully. “We are about to sail, sir. Please disembark immediately, unless you intend to purchase passage to New York.”

“Forgive me for delaying your departure, Captain.” Will knew how annoying that could be. “My name is William Langley. I need to know the name of your passengers who didn’t show today. It’s of the utmost importance, I assure you.”

The captain’s round face relaxed. “William Langley? Are you the Navy commander who distinguished himself at Gramvousa a couple of years ago?”

Will gave him a tight smile. “Yes. That was me.” God, how depressing was it that his one claim to fame involved such carnage?

The captain clapped him on the back. “Well, welcome aboard, Captain. It’s men like you who’ve kept the heathens from overrunning civilized society. I’m George Maxwell. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

“Er… thank you.”

“Now, what can I do for you?”

“I only need a minute or two of your time. I’d like to see your passenger list.”

“Well, then, you shall see it. It’s below.” He turned to the nearest seaman, a lanky young man who was all sharp points and angles. “Oy, Ogilvy! Go fetch the passenger list for Captain Langley here.”

“Aye, sir.” The man ambled off.

Maxwell squeezed his shoulder. “Tell me about it.”

“Tell you…?”

“About Greece. Gramvousa.”

“Oh.” Will swallowed. “Well, not much to tell, really. We went in and occupied the fort, while the French patrolled the surrounding waters.”

“And how did you rout the pirates?”

Will met the man’s eager gaze. “We killed them,” he said flatly. “All of them.” And Will himself had done a fair share of that killing after Briggs and Pratt had been injured. Briggs would carry that scar on his face for the rest of his life. Pratt had died in Will’s arms.

There was a moment of silence, and Maxwell’s arm dropped. “Ah.” He shrugged. “Well, you did no more than was required, I’m sure.”

Right
. They’d tried to run, tried to surrender. Will hadn’t allowed it.

They stood in awkward silence until Ogilvy returned with the passenger list. And there it was, last on the list: Margaret Donovan. He pointed at her name. “Is this the passenger who didn’t show?”

Maxwell frowned down at the list. “Well, yes. You can see, we note all the passengers who are present and accounted for.” He slid his fingertip down a row of checkmarks adjacent to the names, then glanced toward the dock. “Is she coming, or…?”

Will blew out a breath. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

He thanked the captain and disembarked from the
William Thompson
.

Damn it. This could mean one of two things. Either Meg was leading him on a false trail, or someone else had found her first.

Will had a sinking feeling it was the latter.

But how the hell was he going to find them? He hesitated, looking out over the busy docklands of Liverpool.

Where would Caversham take Meg and his son?

The morning fog broke, and light slashed over the water of the dock basin, making it sparkle silver, like Meg’s eyes, and the answer came to him.

Of course. Caversham would take them to sea.

Chapter Nineteen

D
avid Briggs, when facing his crew, was an imposing rock of a man. Watching him, as he commanded obedience and doled out orders, was magnificent. Jessica sat primly, her hands clasped in her lap, as she listened to him speak to his underlings in the salon—a room adjacent to the galley and containing a long table flanked by two equally long benches.

“Finally,” he said, glancing at her and then back toward the three men who were the top-ranking sailors below him, “you’ll have noticed we have a passenger. It is our responsibility to see to her safety and comfort while she’s on board.”

She recognized young Mr. Jasper, who had been scowling at her on and off during the meeting. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, but where’d she come from? We haven’t seen her these past four days since we set sail.”

David sighed. “She is, in fact, a stowaway. She has
been with us since we left London, but she was hiding in Captain Langley’s quarters.”

More scowls turned on her.

“But,” David continued, the note of warning in his voice so dark even she wouldn’t dare disobey it, “you will treat her as her station requires. With respect and deference. That’s an order.”

The three men mumbled, “Aye, sir.”

“Furthermore, if you see any man regard Miss Donovan with anything less than the utmost respect, you will report that man to me, do you understand?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Good. MacInerny, effective immediately, you will join us for our meals in my quarters.”

Suddenly, MacInerny looked like he was fighting off a grin. “Aye, sir,” he said gruffly.

Now, why had he done that? Jessica thought, feeling petulant. She’d been looking forward to long meals with him, alone together in his quarters.

Well, drat it all. He’d effectively put a damper on the romance she’d planned for all those intimate moments together.

And why on earth was MacInerny smiling about it?

Oh, Lord, she was pouting. She forced her face into a more neutral expression.

“Dismissed,” David said. The men all left as she stood, balancing herself on the floor planks. The sea was rougher today than it had been on their journey so far.

In two strides, David was beside her, holding her arm to steady her.

“There now,” he murmured in a whisper that sent chills tumbling down her spine. “Are you all right?”

She smiled at him. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

“I’ll escort you back to Captain Lang—
your—
quarters.”

“Thank you, but I’d prefer to take some air on the deck for a while.”

He sighed. “You’re just asking for trouble, you know that?”

“Are you speaking of my virtue?” She smiled. “Because I’d say it’s hardly in peril. You just gave an order that every sailor must treat me with respect and deference, and only a fool would disobey you.”

“Especially in that matter,” he said, his voice a near growl.

“I sense… possessiveness,” she murmured, looking up at him from under her lashes.

“Miss Donovan, as usual, you are pressing your luck with me.”

“But aren’t you supposed to treat me with deference and respect?”

“That was an order for my
men
.”

“Ah, I see. It doesn’t apply to you.”

Leaning down to her ear, he spoke in such a low voice, she could hardly hear. “You have no idea how strongly you test me, Jess.”

She raised a brow.

“It applies to me,” he added, straightening. “However… unfortunately, I feel that I am the one most likely to break my own edict.”

She gazed up at him. She felt such…
tenderness
toward him. Why on earth she felt such an emotion when he was essentially suggesting he might ravish her, she had no idea.

“Why did you do that, anyhow?” she asked, frowning.

“Do what?”

“Order Mr. MacInerny to dine with us.”

“Good Lord, woman. Why do you think?”

She shrugged. “You’re being difficult? You don’t wish to spend entire meals in my company?”

He stared at her. “I can’t decide whether you’re sorely lacking in wits or just naïve.”

“I’d choose naïve, probably. Though I don’t think of myself as particularly naïve, I must say. I know all about coupling, copulation, French letters, com—”

His hand closed around her mouth. “Please. Stop.” He pushed out a short, sharp breath. “The reason I wish MacInerny to dine with us is because I have no desire to have you alone with me in my cabin.”

He dropped his hand from her mouth.

“Why on earth not?”

His eyes narrowed at her. “Ah. So you are naïve.”

Honestly… why? She wasn’t so very naïve, because she knew that if they were alone in his quarters, he’d want to seduce her… or vice-versa. What was so wrong with that? Didn’t he
want
that? She did. She fought to keep from pouting again. She wasn’t a pouter, but for goodness’ sake, the disagreeable man made her want to pout and stamp her foot and throw a tantrum.