Stormy Persuasion (15 page)

“Now I’m craning my neck in the opposite direction,” Nathan complained. “At least
come sit over here.” He patted the spot next to him on the cot.

“On a bed? With you? That’s far beyond the pale of inappropriate and isn’t happening.”

“Close the door first. Who will know?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Stop trying to seduce me.”

He shot off the bed and didn’t stop until he was leaning into her. “But it’s working,
isn’t it? If you’re going to admit to anything, darlin’, admit you want me as much
as I want you.”

Oh, God, did she? Is that what these feelings were? No wonder she was so confused
and excited by him by turns. She’d never experienced desire before.

He’d pushed between her legs even though her skirt wasn’t wide enough to allow him
to get that close. She didn’t know how he’d done it until she felt his hand on her
outer thigh—against her skin. Steadily moving upward and bringing her skirt up with
it.

Simple instinct moved her hand to his to stop its ascent. And it worked, he just didn’t
take his hand away, and she would remember later that she didn’t either. She was too
deep in the throes of anticipation. Yet the fear of discovery was present, too, with
the door wide-open, when anyone could pass by and see them. But it didn’t occur to
her yet to simply push him away.

His cheek rasped across hers before he bent his head to breathe deeply by her neck.
“There it is again.” His lips brushed against her skin as he said the words, causing
gooseflesh to spread, leaving a trail of tingling sensations across her shoulders
and back. “The smell of ambrosia.”

“Jasmine,” she corrected breathlessly. “And vanilla . . . with a touch of cardamom . . .”

“Then it’s just you, that’s ambrosia.”

He leaned up, was suddenly staring deeply into her eyes. He did that for the longest
moment. Such intensity! As if he were trying to see into her soul. Then he kissed
her with such passion it took her breath away.

“I’m going to hate m’self for this moment of gallantry.” His words brushed against
her lips. “But if you don’t leave this second, I’m going to carry you to that bed.
That’s a promise, darlin’, not just a warning.”

Sanity returned with a vengeance, crimson embarrassment with it. But he didn’t move
back so she could get down from the bench without sliding against him. She heard the
groan as she did, just before she ran out of there.

She stopped at the end of the corridor near the stairs, and the trembling set in.
She put her back against the wall and closed her eyes for a moment. Her cheeks were
still scalding hot. What just happened?! But she knew, because once again she hadn’t
got a chance to ask a single pertinent question. He’d found the perfect way to avoid
that. He was chasing her away with sex. And what would have happened if she didn’t
leave? Would he really have made love to her?

Oh, God, she wasn’t even near him now and yet that single thought made her knees go
weak.

Chapter Twenty-Three

N
athan left the storeroom before he demolished it. What the bleedin’ hell was wrong
with him to let her go like that? She’d been his for the taking. He’d seen it in her
eyes. And a woman always got soft and friendly—and trusting—afterward. Which is exactly
what he needed. But getting angry at himself for letting her go pointed out just how
much of a fool she was turning him into.

The saner thought was that he needed to stay far away from her. He’d been managing
to do just that, knew very well she was trouble in more ways than one even before
her father convinced him of it. Yet he still couldn’t get her out of his mind, had
found himself thinking of her at all times of the day. He did want her. There was
no denying that. He just couldn’t have her, and he needed to keep that fact uppermost
in his mind.

They could
not
be left alone again. Today proved he couldn’t keep his hands off her when they were.
The only way to make sure she stopped tempting him like that was to give her the truths
she wanted so she’d stop seeking him out. So he went up on deck where he expected
to find her. She was there, looking calm and composed. He wasn’t, so he decided not
to approach her yet and moved to the stern of the ship and took out the extra spyglass
Artie had found for him. The first mate was there, too, doing the same thing.

Yesterday Nathan had seen the captain surveying the ocean with a spyglass as well.
But James hadn’t mentioned the ship that had been trailing them the night the stowaway
had escaped, and it hadn’t been sighted since then. He’d surprised Nathan by volunteering
information of a different sort, saying, “There’s a Yank aboard named Boyd Anderson
who you might want to have a chat with. Spends a few days seasick every voyage, which
is why you might not have noticed him yet. But he can steer you to the people you
need to discuss your plan with after we arrive. Might save you some time.”

“Appreciate it, Captain.”

“Don’t mention it. Some Yanks do come in handy occasionally—good God, I need to bite
my own tongue.”

And he’d left with that odd statement.

Now, Artie lowered his own spyglass and, noticing Nathan, asked, “You’ve been watching
for them, too, mate?”

“Curiosity compels me to.”

Artie nodded. “No further sightings. They either got what they were after, gave up—or
they know where
The Maiden George
is heading, so they don’t need to keep us in view.” Then he grumbled, “The day was
when we would’ve circled behind and boarded them—or blasted them out of the water.”

“Really?”

The first mate snapped his mouth shut and marched off, obviously unwilling to elaborate—or
realizing he shouldn’t have said that. Nathan turned to pursue the subject, but spotted
Judith instead. She wasn’t looking his way but was watching the fencing match between
her cousins on the main deck. Leaning against the rail, her back to it, her arms crossed,
her red-gold locks were whisked about her shoulders and back by the wind. She was
so engrossed in the match that she might not even know he’d come on deck. He could
keep it that way—if his feet didn’t have a will of their own.

He stopped two feet away from her and watched the fencers for a few minutes. It immediately
became apparent that Jacqueline Malory wasn’t just amusing herself; she actually knew
how to use that thin rapier in her hand. The lunges and feints, the quick responses,
she wasn’t giving Andrássy much of a chance to do anything other than defend himself.

Incredulous, Nathan asked, “Just what sort of tutors did you girls have?”

“Normal ones.”

“Normal for whom? Pirates?”

Judith burst out laughing.

He glanced at her. “What was funny about that?”

“You’d have to know the particulars,” she replied, still grinning. “So tell me, when
you were a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?”

“Is that a trick question I shouldn’t be falling for?”

“No, but when Jack played that wishing game, she decided she wanted to be a pirate.
Of course, she’s outgrown that notion. Thankfully.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, quite.”

“Yet it appears she mastered one of the skills of the job.”

Judith giggled. “I know.”

“Did you as well?”

“Goodness, no. We shared the same tutors since we live close enough to. We merely
altered the weeks and subjects, one week at my house for literature, geography, and
several languages, then the next week at her house for history, mathematics, even
a smattering of political science, then my house again, et cetera. We just differed
in our personal curriculum. She was interested in fencing, pugilism, and becoming
a crack shot, all of which her father was happy to teach her. I was interested in
needlepoint and learning to play an assortment of musical instruments. And you?”

“The rudiments of a general education taught at a local church. But I don’t believe
that she took up pugilism. There’d be no point, since it’s not something she could
ever make use of.”

He caught the smile on Judith’s face, which she wasn’t directing at him since she’d
yet to glance his way even once. Then she confided, “I would agree with you if I hadn’t
seen her in the ring with her older brother. Jeremy can easily hold his own in a fight.
He is like a younger version of my father, but she was still able to beat him. Speed
and a few tricks can counter size and brawn.” Then Judith laughed. “Of course that
only works once. Onto her tricks, Jeremy didn’t let her get away with it twice.”

Jack might be a few inches taller than Judy, but Nathan still couldn’t picture what
she had just described. But it did make him wonder if Judith might be good at lying,
too, or just good at exaggerating. She still wouldn’t look at him. Didn’t trust herself?
He started to smirk but ended up groaning to himself. He
had
to stop thinking she was as attracted to him as he was to her. It might even just
be a ruse on her part to get him to confirm her suspicions. And why didn’t he think
of that sooner?

A pretty older woman appeared on the quarterdeck, elegantly clad in a hooded, green
velvet cloak that she no doubt wore to protect her coiffure from the wind.

“Your aunt George?”

“Yes,” Judith replied.

Noting the woman’s serene expression as she watched the fencing, he said, “She doesn’t
mind her daughter’s antics?”

“D’you really think she could be unaware of the lessons Jack had from her father?
Of course she doesn’t mind. She’s proud of all of Jack’s accomplishments, from never
missing what she aims at with a pistol to her grace in a waltz—speaking of which,
do you know how to waltz?”

Startled by the question, he quickly turned to look at her and saw she
still
wasn’t looking at him. It was starting to annoy him. “Why would I? If you’re going
to dance, it should be fun.”

“You think waltzing isn’t fun?”

“Course it isn’t, it’s just what you nabobs do to make sure you don’t work up a sweat.
I’ve seen it. There’s nothing fun about it.”

“You won’t think so after I teach you how. We’ll have the lesson here on the deck.”

He snorted. “Not bleedin’ likely. You can’t single me out like that.”

“I won’t. I’ll get Jack involved and a few other sailors, so it will merely appear
as if we’re just amusing ourselves to counter the boredom of the voyage.”

“Do whatever you like, but you can count me out of nonsense like that.”

“On the contrary, I’m going to call in my beck-and-call card and insist you learn
some manners—at least how to treat a lady. We’re merely going to start with the waltz.”

“Why? Once I’m off this ship, I’ll never be around ladies again, so your lessons will
be pointless. And besides, d’you think I’m not aware that a lady is never left alone
with a man? That she has a chaperone at all times? Maybe it’s you who needs some lessons,
darlin’.”

“Our circumstances are—unusual. Or would you rather I ask my questions in front of
an audience?”

“You’re doing a good job of pretending I’m invisible right now, aren’t you? We’re
talking and we’re not alone. Keep it that way and I won’t think you’re seeking me
out for more—”

“Stop it!” she cut in with a hiss. “The things you say, you
know
they are inappropriate.”

He chuckled. “But it doesn’t appear that we need to be alone for me to say them. Or
would you like me to leave until you have someone else standing here with us? An actual
chaperone? Like you’re supposed to have?”

He probably shouldn’t put her on the spot like this. She might be blushing now, but
she was unpredictable, too, and adept at turning the tables on him.

“I wasn’t suggesting the lessons on proper etiquette begin immediately,” she said
stiffly. “In fact, right now you’re going to tell me why you looked so sad the night
I thought you were a ghost.”

“We’re back to that?”

“Yes, we are, and no evasion this time.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“A
nswer me,” Judith demanded when Nathan stood there without saying a word.

He said instead, “I wonder what Artie and Henry are arguing about.”

“You’re changing the subject?” she said incredulously. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Exasperated, she followed his gaze. “You’ve been on the ship long enough to know those
two are always arguing about something. It means nothing. They actually enjoy it.
What you may not know is they are not only
The Maiden George
’s first mates, but Uncle James’s butlers at his house in London. Yes, they share
that job, too. They’re also best friends, though at times, like now, it appears otherwise.
They used to sail with my uncle. When he retired from the sea—”

“He used to sail regularly?”

“When he was young, yes, for about ten years. But as I was saying, Artie and Henry
retired from the sea with him and became his butlers.”

“Two butlers? Is that normal?”

“Not at all normal. But my uncle James isn’t a conformist. Artie and Henry were going
to draw straws to see who’d be first mate this trip, then decided to just share this
job, too. Now—”

Nathan interrupted with the guess “The captain used to be a pirate, didn’t he?”

She gasped. “How—did you arrive at such a ridiculous notion?”

“Something I heard Artie say about blasting things out of the water in their day.
And you just admitted your cousin aspired to be like her father.”

“I said nothing of the sort! Do
not
put words in my mouth.”

She couldn’t believe he’d guessed so accurately, but that was one thing about her
family that was kept strictly in the family and was going to remain that way. James’s
days of being Captain Hawke, gentleman pirate, as cousin Regina liked to refer to
his former profession, were long since over. He’d even faked Hawke’s death when he
finally returned to England to make peace with his brothers, though that run-in with
the pirate Lacross a while back had let a few of his old cronies know he was still
quite alive and well. But Nathan wasn’t going to be told any of that.

She demanded, “So you think of pirates instead of the military? Yes, of course, a
smuggler would.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Then don’t make statements designed to enrage me. If you want to know about my uncle,
ask him yourself—if you dare be that bold. But first, you’re going to answer me. Why
were you sad the night we first met?”

He sighed. “I wasn’t. Disappointed, yes, and if I’m admitting things, a little angry,
too. My maternal grandmother had just passed on. I didn’t know her well, hadn’t even
seen her since I was a tyke. She lived alone in London, I lived with my parents in
Cornwall. My father and she didn’t get along, and she wanted nothing more to do with
us after my mother died. So I was surprised when her solicitor tracked me down to
hand me a deed to that property.”

“Are you saying you actually
do
own the manor?”

“I told you that when you were a child. If I
had
been there this other night when you intruded yet again, I would have done the same
thing—simply told you to get out, that you were trespassing.”

“I’m to believe this
now
? You had your chance to make the claim of ownership when I asked before. You didn’t
because it’s obviously not true.”

“It’s a bleedin’ wreck of a house.”

“One that comes with a lot of land. My cousin Derek would even pay you a fortune for
it, so you’d never have to work again.”

“Maybe I don’t want to sell it.”

“Maybe because you don’t really own it!”

He suddenly raised a brow at her. “Why so angry, darlin’? Because you found another
trespasser in that house, or because you didn’t find me when you hoped you would?
Are you angry that I’m not your ghost?”

She almost sputtered, but took a quick, deep breath instead. She wasn’t even sure
why she’d just gotten so angry. Merely because he hadn’t confirmed sooner that he
was related to Mildred Winstock, who was an aristocrat by birth?

But he wasn’t waiting for her to answer him. He continued with a shrug, “It’s nothing
to be proud of or boast about that I own a house that’s falling apart.”

“You didn’t know it was a ruin until that night, did you?” she guessed.

He barked a short, bitter laugh before he said, “No, I actually went there to take
up residence. It was just after the fight I had with my father, which I’ve already
mentioned to you.”

“Which led to your leaving Cornwall, yes, but you never said what that fight was about.”

“I’d rather not talk about that. It’s painful enough that I never saw my father again
before he died.”

Was that true, or was he just being evasive again? She glanced at him to check the
expression on his face and got distracted by how handsome he was. He wasn’t wearing
a bandanna now, and with the sun shining brightly, his hair looked pure white again
as the wind blew it every which way, including across his face, which he didn’t seem
to even notice.

Something in his expression was angry, but mixed with melancholy, too, which compelled
her to finally say, “I’m sorry.”

“So am I. At the time, I was angry enough to break ties with him and live on my own,
but only because I thought my grandmother had left me the means to do so. What a joke
that turned out to be.”

“Surely not intentional.”

“No, I doubt she ever stepped foot in that house herself and didn’t realize she was
leaving me nothing but a shambles. It had belonged to my grandmother’s grandmother,
but according to my mum, my grandmother had been born in London, raised in London,
and never left London. It was probably just a nice excuse for why my grandmother never
came to visit us in Cornwall, instead of telling me the truth, that the old bird hated
my father.”

Judith was inclined to believe him, which warned her she probably shouldn’t. He might
be making all this up to elicit her sympathy. He hadn’t admitted to owning the house
the first time they’d spoken on the ship. And he hadn’t mentioned it in any of their
earlier conversations. Then she realized she could confirm whether what he’d just
told her about the house was true.

“What was your grandmother’s name?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Actually, it does. I know who the last owner of record was. If you don’t, then—”

He glanced at her sharply and demanded, “Are you this suspicious with everyone?”

“Just smugglers,” she said without inflection. “And I notice you’re not offering up
a name.”

He snorted. “Mildred Winstock. And now you can tell me how you know my grandmother.”

She was surprised how relieved she was to have proof that he was telling her the truth.
Now their earlier encounters in Hampshire were beginning to make sense to her. His
owning the house explained the lock on the door and his claiming to know the house
better than she did, even the cot that he’d added. Only his telling her not to say
she’d seen him there was odd. And his accosting her. That wasn’t how a property owner
behaved. Or that he didn’t want the lantern lit again so she could see who he was.
So try as she might to exonerate him in her mind, she still couldn’t, not when so
many clues pointed to illegal activities.

“I didn’t know your grandmother,” she explained. “My cousin Derek tracked down the
identity of the last owner of record so he could buy the house.”

“Why?”

She was hesitant to tell Nathan the truth, but he had to realize what an eyesore his
property was, sitting next to a grand ducal mansion. So she said in a roundabout way,
“He wants to give it a proper burial.”

“It’s still standing.”

“Barely.”

“I know better’n anyone the condition it’s in, but I’m not selling it just so your
lordly cousin can tear it down. It’s the only thing I have left from my mother’s side.”

She tried to sound cheerful for him as she suggested, “Then repair it.”

“I intend to.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound surprised? It’s the only reason I mastered carpentry.”

Her eyes widened. Derek would probably donate whatever Nathan needed, anything that
would improve the view from the back of his home. “You’ve had five years to get started.
If it’s a matter of materials—”

“It was, but not anymore. I’ve been stockpiling what’s needed, stashing materials
in that hidden room so no one would run off with them when I’m not there. I just wasn’t
in a hurry to get started with the repairs until recently. I did some work on the
roof, I just haven’t tiled it yet. I could redo it all in cheap slate, but slate doesn’t
belong on a house like that.”

“You want to match the clay tiles that are currently on it?”

He nodded. “What’s left of them. Just didn’t realize how expensive clay is. And didn’t
expect this trip to add to the delay.”

“What changed recently to prompt you to start repairing the house?”

“I’m not alone anymore.”

Her eyes flared. “You have a
wife
!?”

He burst out laughing. It drew a few eyes their way, Georgina’s and Jack’s in particular.
Jack even slipped up because of it, giving Andrássy his first chance to take the offensive.
Jack’s sound of exasperation could be heard across the deck.

Nathan noticed, too, and said uncomfortably, “I should leave.”

“What you
should
have done was tell me you’re married
prior
to kissing me,” Judith said furiously. “I
despise
unfaithful husbands!”

He raised a surprised brow at her, but only briefly. He was still glancing about the
deck to gauge the damage done from the attention she’d drawn to them. But he said,
“That’s a bit heated for an assumption, darlin’. Jealous?”

“Not in the least!”

“Then stop yelling at me and look away,” he warned, but then suddenly hissed, “Bleedin’
hell. Meet me up in the crow’s nest tonight and I’ll explain why you’re mistaken.
But I’m not staying for this.”

This
was James and Anthony. They had just appeared on the quarterdeck and were standing
with Georgina now, one on each side of her. But neither was watching the fencing match.
They were looking directly at Judith and Nathan instead.