The Jezebel (12 page)

“You are wrong.” He shifted then and turned to cup her face in his hands. “Very wrong. You are the most precious thing in this world.” His eyes glittered in the darkness, and his face was uncomfortably near to hers, his breath hot on her skin.

“Cyrus, you are embarrassing me.”

“And how it becomes you,” he responded, his tone low, his manner quite different to everything she had known before. He moved one hand to caress her waist. “You are not for the likes of him, my precious. Oh, no, I have much bigger plans for you.”

“You have plans for me?” She blurted the question, unable to hold it back.

Immediately, she wanted to retract it, but before she could say anything else, Cyrus answered by pressing his lips to hers.

Thoroughly shocked, she froze, and then pulled away. “Cyrus!”

“There is no need to be afraid,” he said swiftly, “not while you are with me. Haven’t I always told you that?”

She was far too shocked to answer.

The way he sank back in his seat and eyed her made her discomfort increase. He did not ask her forgiveness for his actions, nor did he apologize. And he kept his hand over hers, as if claiming her.

In that moment she realized it had been his intention all along to keep her as his own. Not as he had done to begin with, but as something else. Something that made her blood run cold.

From that evening on, Margaret’s senses were ever on high alert. Watchful and cautious, she didn’t draw away from her master, her keeper. Instead she allowed him the briefest intimacy in order to learn the exact extent of his so-called plans. His true intentions toward her hadn’t been honorable at all. Nor was the way he dismissed Mama Beth from their lives.

Like a butterfly from the chrysalis, Maisie’s transformation into a young woman was a fragile flight into a world fraught with dangers. But deep down she was still a Taskill, and she was strong. Which was just as well, because when she discovered the true depth of her keeper’s wickedness, she knew she had to break with Cyrus and forge her own path, no matter what new dangers it might bring.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Maisie, you managed to make your way across in Billingsgate.” Roderick nodded down at the plank. It had been set down as soon as they docked at Lowestoft earlier that afternoon, and had been well used between then and now.

The furrow in Maisie’s brow deepened as she considered it.

Roderick found he didn’t like to see her fretting. In fact, it made him quite restless and uneasy. He walked back across the plank to her side to show her how sturdy it was.

“It was dark in Billingsgate,” she grumbled. “And now I can see exactly how treacherous it is.”

She nodded down at the waters beneath. She was perched shipside, clinging to the railing at her back, looking down at the plank as if she wouldn’t be able to manage it. He noticed how lovely she looked, poised like a figurehead for the
Libertas.
A little too nervous for that role, perhaps. Nevertheless, it made him smile.

Had she really been this afraid in Billingsgate? Things had happened so quickly that first night it hadn’t occurred to him she would find it difficult. How determined she must have been to leave London. Why? It was his intention to dig to the bottom of it, but he had to get her on shore first so they might dine and talk in comfort and privacy.

“I will lead the way. Follow my steps exactly.” He made a point of taking it slowly so that the board did not bounce as much as it usually would.

When he reached the dock, he gestured at her to follow. “Trust me. What can go wrong? If you fall in, I’ll fetch you out.”

She gave him a horrified look that made him chuckle.

That seemed to urge her on. Grumbling to herself, she edged her way along the plank. When she got close to the dockside, she gained speed, and when she stepped onto solid boards there, she visibly slumped with relief.

“You will master the plank by the time we reach Dundee, and you can step off in Scotland with grace.”

“Perhaps.” She didn’t seem convinced. She had barely straightened up when Brady came bounding down behind her. Hearing him, she darted to Roderick’s side and held tight to him.

Taking advantage of the situation, he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Oh,” she said, when she caught sight of Brady, “how foolish of me.”

“Brady is away in a rush after his Yvonne.”

A woman’s voice called out beyond them.

They both turned to watch as the sailor and his woman greeted one another. Brady grabbed her in his arms and embraced her. Two small children stood by, watching. When encouraged by their mother, they stepped forward with offerings for their father.

Roderick glanced down at his companion. She appeared to be intrigued. “How did she know he was coming?”

“He sent word from Billingsgate. He pays highly to have someone ride ahead to deliver a note. As soon as we dock in England he sends word. Then she has the port master inform her when he catches sight of our masts.”

“Like two spinning stars closing on one another,” Maisie whispered. “It’s quite lovely to witness their reunion.”

Roderick had never thought so, for this reunion meant he might lose one of his best men. But he could see that a woman might be smitten with such a touching scene. “It is not without problems. Brady is a man of the sea. No sailor should be tethered to the shore by a woman, for it tears him apart inside.”

Maisie frowned. “You cannot believe that. He clearly loves her.”

“He does love her. That is exactly the problem.”

Maisie frowned at him, then watched as the couple hurried off, each with a child by the hand.

Offering his temporary companion his arm, Roderick adjusted the neckerchief he had put on for the occasion. He was not used to such finery, and he’d had to hunt high and low amongst the men and their belongings to find something suitable to borrow for the event.

They stepped out together, promenading through the small town. Roderick was proud to be seen with her. He had gone ashore before she was even aware they’d set down anchor, and sought out the best inn he could find to make arrangements.

“I have organized a room where we can dine in comfort,” he said, as they mounted the cobbled lane that meandered from the harbor into the heart of the town.

“Why, Captain Cameron, you are being most charming. That wasn’t part of our bargain, surely.”

“Oh, I shall hold you to the bargain, never fear.”

She smiled and glanced at him most seductively.

“However, I want us to talk, to know each other a little better. I am most curious about my lovely passenger.”

Her smile vanished. Roderick felt her withdraw. Even her grip on his arm loosened. That was not good. Perplexed, he gestured at the inn ahead.

Maisie nodded. She didn’t say anything, but looked rather pensive.

Once inside, he caught the innkeeper’s eye, and the man took them to a private room. It was small but well presented, with a dining table, two chairs and a stoked fire. Candles stood in a row on the mantel, as well as in wall sconces, and there was a thick woven mat before the fire that gave it an air of comfort.

“It’s lovely,” Maisie commented, and smiled.

He was relieved to see the pensive look had gone.

She went to remove her cloak, but Roderick stopped her, stepping behind her and placing his hands over hers on the silver clasp at her collarbone.

She glanced back over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

The look in her eyes heated him to the marrow.

Aboard ship she appeared ladylike, moving elegantly all the while. Even when the ship tossed, or she was half-stripped, or was undertaking menial tasks alongside Adam. Here in the relative comfort of the private room in the inn, where candles abounded and the log fire crackled and hummed, she seemed even more elegant, sparkling like a rare jewel before his eyes.

He held out a chair for her.

She had pinned up her hair, and the pale skin of her nape was revealed to him as she took her seat. Roderick stared down at her, and before he moved away, rested his hand on her shoulder a moment, needing to touch her.

Taking the seat opposite her, he was glad the room was so well lit. It meant he could admire her. The way her throat curved into her collarbone made him want to kiss her there. The swell of her breast at the edge of her bodice had the same effect.

The innkeeper brought mugs of ale and assured them they would enjoy a good meal. When he departed, he left the door to the room ajar. The cheer of the crowd in the inn beyond—whilst amiable and infectious—made Roderick want to have her completely to himself again, much as he did in his quarters aboard the
Libertas.
Later, though, he would have that and more, and the thought kept his lust well stoked.

“Tell me,” she said, “how did Brady come to have a woman here?”

Roderick thought back on when it was. “We set down anchor here around five years back, in order to careen the hull.”

When her eyebrows drew together, he explained. “The outside of the ship gathers unwelcome baggage, barnacles and weeds and all manner of strange creatures. When they make their home on the boards they slow us down. They can also make the ship more vulnerable to taking on water. We dropped anchor in Lowestoft in order to take dry dock, to hove down, do repairs and tar the boards.”

“I didn’t know there was so much involved in your way of life.”

“It never ends, that is the truth of it, but it’s a wild old life and we welcome it. Careening is just one of many tasks that have to be undertaken to keep the ship seaworthy. On this occasion we’d been in warmer seas off the coast of North Africa, and the task took longer than expected, and while we were here Brady met his Yvonne. After we left he was so miserable that we started to call on the port whenever we were nearby. After a year he married her and secured her a cottage. Now there are two bairns to feed, but he is happiest when we sail closer to this part of the world.”

Maisie considered Roderick with a half smile. “You are a generous captain.”

“It was not just me that made the decision. I sail with a partner. He has been on land these past six months on family business. Together we talked Brady around to this arrangement. He loves the woman, but he also loves the sea. He is a good first mate. We did not want to lose him entirely.”

“A woman can do that, draw a seafaring man back to land?”

“Oh, yes,” Roderick replied, with irony. “Losing crew to women is a hazard we have often encountered. Many a seafaring man will suddenly find his land legs if lust is involved. Worse still, if his mind is addled by romantic notions.”

Roderick had never understood it, but when he stared across at his companion he began to see how it could happen. Maisie Taskill could easily lure a man to land if she set her mind to it. Which was exactly why he should be keeping his distance, not spending every possible moment with her, and endeavoring to find out her history. Yet he couldn’t help himself. Natural curiosity, he told himself. That’s all it was.

“You thought he would stay with the
Libertas
if you did this to help him?”

“Gregor thought it would be the case, but I think we may lose Brady yet. He gets melancholy when we are away too long. It is better for a seafaring man not to grow attached to one woman.”

Maisie sat back in her chair, a curious expression on her face. “Gregor?”

Roderick thought he’d offended her with his plain speaking, but it was Gregor’s name that had caught her attention. “Gregor Ramsay is the man I share joint ownership of the vessel with. He is in Fife at the moment, settling a score.”

She shifted in her chair and tapped her chin with one finger. “The name. Something about it seems familiar. I am fairly sure I don’t know it, but I have the oddest feeling I should.”

How would she know Gregor Ramsay? Roderick wondered. “Did you hail from the East Neuk of Fife? Perhaps you heard of him there?”

She shook her head. “I was born in the Highlands. I have never spent time in Fife.” She lifted her shoulders. “No matter.”

“The Highlands, aye. That accounts for the wildness I witness when you lose control of your senses.”

“I have no idea what you are referring to, Captain.” Her smile and the flash of her eyes assured him she did.

“What took you to England?”

For several moments she didn’t speak at all, and she looked wronged. It was as if he’d asked her a terrible thing. When she did reply there was tension in her voice. “Something that turned out to be a very big mistake.”

“We all make errors.”

“That is true enough.” There was wariness in her tone.

“This life is not easy, nor is our path laid out straight and fair.”

She nodded, then lifted her mug of ale and sipped from it. “No, but I did not make the error.”

Roderick pressed on, his curiosity rife. “Who did?”

Again, she thought about her response at length, then gave a forced smile. “The man who thought he could bend me to his will and keep me.”

Roderick lifted his brows. Apparently she’d had a suitor, one she hadn’t given her virginity to. Yet she’d given it readily enough to him. A puzzle lay therein. It was the sort of puzzle that he and some of the men would enjoy debating at length while they shared a flagon of rum on a night and made entertainment for themselves. More intriguingly, she showed a deep determination against being kept by a man. Any man, or just this suitor?

“You have an unusual strength of spirit,” Roderick commented.

“For a woman?” she retorted.

“Aye. And more than many men, too.”

She looked away and into the flames in the hearth. “I had to be strong.”

“Why so?”

She flashed him a warning stare. “It is better that you know nothing about me. I have said too much already.”

Irritation built in Roderick. “I do not agree.”

It was more than idle curiosity now. He had a bad feeling about the things she said, and their physical union—whilst only a temporary arrangement in lieu of a fee—made him believe he had a right to know.

“I have given you my body, nothing more.”

Unaccountably, her glib comment made him feel even more irritated. “As your captain, I have your life in my hands. You should trust in me.”

“I trust no man.” Her stare was bright and determined, and Roderick felt her strength of will. She wanted him to feel it, he knew, for it was a warning.

He frowned. One moment they were at ease with one another, then this disagreement had arisen. “I don’t claim to understand the fair sex,” he stated. “I never have. But you, madam, only serve to show me that I never will.”

Affronted, she responded by rising to her feet. “You cannot hold all women to account on the actions of one. That is unfair and unreasonable.”

“Why not? It is the way you treat men. You said so yourself, moments ago.”

Color rose to the skin on her cheekbones. In her anger, she was even more beautiful. Despite the tension between them, Roderick found himself roused by her, and if they had been in his cabin he would have had her on her back in a flash.

Mercifully, the door opened and a serving wench bustled in with a cauldron of stew set upon a wooden board. Steam rose from it.

Roderick nodded across at Maisie. “Sit yourself down.”

She pursed her lips and stood her ground, as if unwilling to obey.

He held up his hands. “I will pry no more.” Once she took her seat again, he could not resist adding, “Although you are willful and you are wrong to mistrust me.”

She folded her arms over her chest and glared across the table at him.

The stew was set down between them, and a second serving woman brought bread, bowls and spoons. Even after the wenches had gone, Maisie held her position most deliberately.

Roderick’s belly grumbled. He reached over and dished up the hearty stew into each of their bowls. “Come now, eat. You won’t get a meal this good aboard the ship.”

“You didn’t have to point that out. I have already gleaned that much knowledge myself,” she retorted.

Roderick gave a dry laugh.

When she looked his way, she snatched up her spoon.

The food was good and they were both hungry. They ate in silence, but still Roderick studied her, wondering.