The Guise of a Gentleman (22 page)

A smaller door to the side opened onto a small bedchamber. Elise looked in the doorway without entering. A thick rug with an oriental design lay upon the floor. Outside a leaded glass window shimmered a glorious sunset.

Someone entered the main cabin. Elise whirled around. Two sailors nodded to her deferentially and set about pushing the desk against the wall and moving the table into the middle of the room. A third approached Elise. His tasteful clothing had a decidedly French flavor. He had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, and bright, alert eyes. Extended exposure to the elements left his face weathered and craggy.

He removed his hat. “
Madame
, permit me to introduce myself. I am Jean-Claude Dubois, first mate.” He spoke in the faint accent of a Frenchman who’d spoken English for many years. “The captain sends his respects and invites you to join him for dinner.”

With vague surprise, she realized she did not feel threatened by the Frenchman. He eyed her with curiosity, but without the open leer she’d seen on the other pirates. Another, younger sailor entered carrying a bucket. Though too young to grow facial hair, he towered over her, and his bare arms bulged with muscle.

“With your permission, ma’am?” He thrust his chin toward the bedroom.

Elise stepped out of the doorway, and the youth carried the bucket into the room. The sound of water being poured reached her ears.

The large boy padded out barefoot carrying an empty bucket. Was going about barefoot a common practice aboard ships?

“You may wish to wash first. Dinner will be served momentarily,” Mr. Dubois said. He paused. “
Madame
, do let me know if there should be anything we can do to make you comfortable.”

Numbly, Elise nodded.

He affected a brief bow and stepped back. She went into the bedchamber and closed the door. Leaning against the door, she listened to the footsteps outside the room, but no one came near. For good measure, she bolted the lock. It would not stop a truly determined man, but the act made her feel better.

On the chest, she found a small wash basin and a clean, dry cloth. Next to the cloth lay a silver brush, comb and a hand mirror in a matched set. Perhaps he kept such things for all the other women he carried off from ships he plundered. Villain.

A large bed occupied one corner of the room. Rich fabrics, blankets and pillows bespoke a preference for comfort and opulence. Odd, but that seemed to contradict the man she thought she knew. He’d always seemed to show a penchant for simpler things. That must have been part of the role he played. A ruse to break through the barriers around her heart.

The bed loomed large. She wondered how many women had shared that bed with him. Grinding her teeth, she turned away. Another thought halted her.

He might expect her to share it with him.

Could he be the kind of man to take by force what he did not receive by seduction? The gentleman she knew as Jared Amesbury certainly would not. He’d had opportunities to do just that and had not taken them.

But a pirate remained an unpredictable mystery.

In an act of practicality, she washed her face and hands. After removing the few remaining hair pins, she brushed her hair, slowly working out the tangles. She braided it and wound it into a coil at the back of her head. She had so few hairpins remaining that she could not fasten it securely, but at least she felt neater, as if she had some measure of control. Control. She almost laughed at that.

A scratch at the door and a hesitant, “Milady?” called her to dinner.

She opened the door to the fresh-faced lad who’d brought in the water. “I’m not a titled lady. Mrs. Berkley will do.”

Blushing, he ducked his head, murmured something, and stepped back to allow her to pass. The captain’s cabin had transformed into an elegant dining room. Candles flickered, silver shimmered, crystal and china graced the table. Platters of fragrant food waited, tempting her stomach.

Elise sensed Jared enter the room. Her heart pounded, whether from dismay or anticipation, she did not dare examine too closely. No sound came from behind her. She steeled herself and turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest, a hint of a smile hovering on his mouth.

The hardened conqueror on deck had vanished. He’d bathed and changed into a clean white linen shirt and leather breeches. The cut on his chin had been sewn with black thread, but was enough below his jaw line that it barely showed. The first signs of a beard shadowed his jaw. Tonight he walked barefoot like the boy and Dubois had. And yet, he looked so much like the Jared Amesbury she knew that she wanted to weep again. It was like seeing the ghost of a loved one.

She pressed her hand to her stomach and commanded herself not to fall apart. With lowered eyes, the youth pulled out a chair for her and waited. Too hungry to refuse, she accepted the offered chair. When she had comfortably settled, the boy poured the wine.

“Thank you, O’Brian, that will be all,” rumbled Jared from the doorway.

He pushed off from the wall and closed the door behind O’Brian. He approached like a great cat stalking its prey. She felt his gaze but refused to meet it.

His chair scraped as he sat. “I think you’ll find the food more suitable than usual. I insisted the ship’s cook work in a reputable tavern while we were on land in the hopes that he could produce something edible. His apprenticeship appears to have improved his skills.”

She heard the amusement in his voice, but refused to look at him.

“If you’d been on board the
Sea Mistress
before, you would appreciate the improvement,” he added.

She twisted the napkin in her lap.

“Perhaps it is the company that chases away your appetite.”

The softness of his voice drew her gaze. A teasing smile played around his mouth. He looked so like his former self that a lump formed in her throat and she had to fight back her tears. The tightness in her stomach made the thought of eating unappealing, despite her earlier hunger.

“I’m hungry. I cannot force you to eat, but I’m not willing to starve.” He dug into his meal.

She had no idea how long she’d been in a drug- induced sleep, but she was beginning to feel weak from lack of food. As the tempting aromas tickled her nose, her stomach reawakened painfully empty. Despite her wishes to appear mutinous, she tasted the first dish. Not up to her chef’s standards, but certainly quite good.

She pointedly kept her eyes off him and they ate the first course in silence. After the second arrived, Elise could no longer stand the silence.

“Would you be so kind as to reveal to me your intentions?” Her tone came out more plaintive than she’d hoped.

He lowered his fork. “My intentions?”

“Toward me.”

He sipped his wine and leaned back in his chair. Holding the glass, he regarded her a moment before he spoke. “I intend to show you every courtesy and make your voyage aboard my ship as pleasant and comfortable as possible.”

“And how long do you plan to hold me on board?”

“My dear Mrs. Berkley, I am not holding you. You are a guest, not a prisoner.” The outer corners of his eyes crinkled.

“I am here against my will.”

His lips twitched. “You’d rather I left you aboard Leandro’s ship?”

Her shoulders slumped. “No.”

“I thought not.”

“Then, if I’m not a prisoner, you’ll take me home?”

“All in good time.”

Desperation edged through. “I need to get home to Colin.”

He paused. “I’m confident he’s receiving the best possible care from your ever faithful servants. You will be returned to him soon, not to worry.”

She swallowed. “Unharmed?”

The humor left his face. “Do you believe I’d turn my men loose on you?”

She cringed. She had feared he’d keep her for his own pleasure, but the thought of those savage-looking men overpowering her left her sick. “Would you really do that?”

He frowned. “Of course not.”

“Then what do you mean to do with me?”

He pressed his lips together briefly. “Allow you full use of my ship. These quarters are for your comfort while you remain on board.”

“Alone?”

“Well, you are using my cabin,” he drawled, looking her over with a wicked grin. “Where do you expect me to sleep?”

She leaped to her feet. “If you think I’ll share your bed with you, you’d better come in wearing armor or you’ll find a knife in your ribs!” She picked up her butter knife and brandished it at him.

He laughed. “Good girl. Nice to see your spirits returning. That passive, timid creature a moment ago barely resembled the Elise Berkley I know.”

She blinked, her indignation fading. Then she realized what he’d done and she grew angry all over again. “You! You deliberately provoked me.”

“Of course. I had to shock you out of your shell somehow.” He grinned. Then his face softened. “Fear not. Once I’ve escorted the
Venture
to a safe place where she can undergo repairs, I’ll take you home. That is, if you still wish to go there after seeing the liberty afforded by the open seas.”

She sank back into her chair. “Take me home, I beg you. Colin will be terrified when I’ve turned up missing.”

He let his breath out slowly. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I wish I could take you home immediately, but I’m commandeering the
Venture
and she needs repairs. We damaged her in battle and she looks as though she hasn’t been in dry dock in a decade. I can’t send them off in her alone and unprotected. There are so many unsavory characters who might take advantage of a crippled ship, you know.” He grinned at his own joke.

She was not amused. “Are there any worse than Black Jack?”

His tone light, he said, “Worse? I suppose that depends on your point of view. Leandro was worse. Our former captain was worse. I killed both, so I’ve done the world a favor by ridding it of them.”

She shuddered at how casually he spoke of taking another man’s life. Although, she could not mourn Captain Leandro’s passing. “Is that what you plan to tell the real Jared Amesbury’s family?”

He stilled. “The real Jared Amesbury’s family?”

“I overheard you in town talking to one of your men. You admitted that you’d killed the real Jared Amesbury and have been using his name when it suits you.”

He appeared to carefully choose his words. After a furtive glance toward the door, he replied, “There are times when having an alias becomes necessary.”

“Is murder necessary?”

He met her gaze evenly. “I have killed more men than I can remember. Many in the war. Others since then. Some today. It happens in battle.”

“Then you do not deny that you are indeed the pirate Black Jack.”

“I do not deny it. I’ve been a pirate for the past three years, ever since the war ended.” Gravely, he drank the rest of his wine.

“Another alias?”

“Does it matter?” All trace of humor vanished from his face. Even his eyes lost their sparkle.

“So you’ve stolen and lied and killed. All for a bit of treasure.”

“We are all pawns in some greater game.” He stared off at some unrevealed memory. “If it means anything to you, I’m retiring now that I’ve completed this last task.”

“And how many died from ‘this last task?’”

“A great number, no doubt.”

Her mouth fell open. “How can you be so complacent about human life?”

“Some things cannot be changed,” he replied grimly. “A price must be paid for everything.”

The next course arrived. After the servant—or perhaps sailor would be more appropriate—had left, she picked at the food.

“Elise.” He waited until she looked up. “You have seen me at my worst and at my best. You’ve even seen me grieving. Whatever man you glimpsed in those moments is still here,” he tapped his chest with his fingertips. “I believe you found him not objectionable then.”

“That was before I knew all this.” She made a sweeping motion that took in the ship. The truth seemed almost too horrible to admit. Tears filled her eyes.

He reached over and lifted her chin. She glared at him. Her tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks.

“I never thought I’d see the immovable Elise Berkley reduced to tears,” he whispered.

“I trusted you. But everything about you is a lie.” She sat with tears streaming down her face, absolutely lost. She hated her weakness, her helplessness, her inability to control her emotions. The man she loved never existed. He’d been an illusion. A fraud. A lie. The loss cut more deeply than if he had died. “You killed a man in cold blood and stole his name.”

“I’ve never killed in cold blood. Lives have been lost, but only in the heat of battle.”

She let out a huff but it came out more like a sob.

His voice gentled. “I will return you home. Unmolested. No one you love, or even know, will be hurt.”

A true sob broke through. She turned away and put a hand over her face.

“Elise ….”

“Please. No more.” She stumbled into the sleeping chamber, shut the door and leaned against it. She heard the outer door open and then close.