The Ransom (17 page)

A swath of gray illuminated the window. Dawn’s ribbon of light eased over the ledge and into the room before landing on the man. Taking a step back, she faced him, chin raised.

“I am no man’s treasure, Mr. Pirate! Besides, what would you know about deserving—”

She gasped, staring at his face. “What, pray tell, is that white paste on your cheek?”

Chapter 14

Alex clutched Juliana’s hand, halting her before she touched the white residue on his face and realized it was the paste Port Royal gentry used to make themselves appear pale and unblemished. Turning aside, he brushed it off. “’Tis only sand.”

Lud, he’d have to be more careful.

Fortunately, Gwen returned at that precise moment, giving Alex an opportunity to slip downstairs and make arrangements with ol’ Gengis, the tavern owner, for the room above, as well as procure some of the doxies’ help in caring for Abilene. After ensuring no further paste remained on his face, he returned, and under much protest from Miss Juliana, dragged her away from her friend.

“’Tis nearly dawn, and your footman has no doubt woken from his stupor and will be worried about you,” he announced as they descended the stairs.

She didn’t reply, just trudged numbly beside him down into the main room. Though a few hardy souls still nursed mugs of rum and a man in the corner mumbled a dour tune, most of the patrons lay draped over chairs and tables, unconscious. Snores replaced the raucous din of the night, save for a few lewd comments some of the pirates tossed their way as they passed—comments about their supposed “activities” upstairs—comments Alex hoped Juliana was too tired to hear.

Unfortunately, the lady didn’t miss much. Her tiny gasps and the red hue creeping up her face were evidence of that. The fresh morning air seemed to revive her as she halted on the porch and speared him with her gaze. “You should have corrected those men. They are now under the impression that we … that I …” She looked away, the red deepening on her face.

“That we know each other in the biblical sense?” He grinned.

“How dare you say such a thing?”

“We have spent the night together, milady. Why put on such airs?” The morning sun transformed her eyes into fiery turquoise.

Snorting, she proceeded down the steps and into the street. “I have a reputation to uphold, Mr. Pirate, even if you do not.”

“Milord Pirate, if you please. And trust me, ’tis best they think you belong to me.”

“I belong to no man.”

“I suggest you inform your betrothed of that immediately.”

Halting again, she tightened her lips in that frustrated, patronizing way of hers. “Mr. Pirate, you have been a great help to me this evening. A hero who came to the rescue of not only me but my dear friend Abilene. Though I fail to understand your reasons, I owe you my gratitude. But now, however, I fear we must part ways. You have your life here among the verminous hooligans, and I have my life”—she paused and stared into the distance—“somewhere else. Good day to you, sir. I shall find my way home.” With that, she spun in a swish of skirts and flounced down the sandy road.

What an adorable, delightful woman! Alex fell in step beside her, taking liberties with his gaze as the first rays of the sun slipped over the horizon and showered glittering light upon this angel who dared stroll through the streets of hell. A pink glow hallowed the delicate layers of her hair, while the luster of pearls woven amidst the strands faded in comparison to her tresses of spun gold. Roses bloomed on a face tinged by the sun, her flawless complexion marred only by the shadows hovering beneath her eyes. And what eyes! Azure blue with streaks of green that matched the color of the water caressing Jamaica’s shores. The blood splattered on her lavender gown only endeared her to him more. The woman was a saint. Alex felt like a filthy troll as he strolled beside her, a supplicant begging her favor.

And he’d never been good at begging.

Upon finding him beside her, she gave an exasperated sigh, but at least she made no further attempts to be rid of him.

They finally found Mr. Pell, who was, indeed, in a dither having woken to find Miss Dutton gone. The relief shouting from the footman’s bloodshot eyes was nearly comical. After assisting her into the carriage, and receiving a rather snub look from Mr. Pell, Alex watched them drive away. The carriage wheels cranked and screeched down the sandy lane, and he found himself longing for one last glance from Miss Juliana. If she would but look his way, it would give him hope that mayhap she harbored a smidgen of affection for him. He’d happily settle for such a trifle. Which was why he stood staring after her like a fool. The carriage was nearly at the end of the street when the lady turned in her seat, shielded her eyes from the sun, and glanced his way. Alex couldn’t help but smile. So, she
did
find him intriguing. It was a start. A start toward what, he had no idea, but just being with her made him feel like a better man. Mayhap it was possible, after all, that a lady like her could redeem a wicked pirate like him.

♥♥♥

Two days later, as promised, Juliana opened the door of her home and received a missive from a rather slovenly-looking fellow, who tipped his hat above a leering grin before turning and stumbling back down the steps. It was from Abilene. She was recovering, well taken care of, extremely thankful for Juliana’s help, but wanted her to promise she would never set foot down by the docks at night again. Not for her. Not for anyone. She signed it,
Affectionately your friend always, Abilene
.

Juliana wiped a tear away. ’Twould that the stubborn woman would accept more of her help, would come home with Juliana, allow her to care for her. Though how Juliana could feed another mouth, she had no idea. Business was down. A few of her father’s long-standing customers had switched to Masters Shipping for the transport of their goods. Nervous, no doubt, in the absence of her father’s presence in town. Dutton Shipping was but one summer squall or one pirate attack away from folding completely. How had Father stood the pressure?

Coughing spiked down the stairs from above. Not well, apparently. Was it the stress or his crotchety personality that had opened the door to such a gruesome illness? An illness that leeched away more of his life every day, according to Dr. Verns who had bled the man just that morning.

Folding the note, Juliana slipped it inside the pocket of her skirts and headed back toward her father’s study, where a stack of documents awaited her. Up at dawn, she’d barely gone through a quarter of the writs of lading, and it was already noon. Her eyes hurt, her neck ached, and she longed for a nap. But at least not everything was bad news. Rowan had nearly recovered from his beating, and now Abilene was on the mend as well. She quietly thanked God for the small blessings. Mayhap caring for the orphans and risking her life for Abilene had won her a speck of favor with the Almighty.

Unbidden thoughts of the Pirate Earl barged into her mind.
Again.
Truth be told, she couldn’t stop thinking of him. The way he’d protected her, called his surgeon, paid for the room, and hired women to care for Abilene. The way he looked at Juliana with those penetrating eyes the color of the deep sea—as if she was more precious than all the doubloons he’d ever pilfered. The way her insides inflamed when he’d caressed her cheek.
Shameful!
Why did he affect her so? She moved to the French doors and hugged herself, staring out into her mother’s garden.

Another knock on the front door spun her around. Restraining a growl at not having a butler—at least not when Abbot was down at the wharves—she headed back into the foyer. A few seconds later, she wished she hadn’t opened the door. Captain Nichols, a silly grin on his lips, removed his cocked black hat and bowed to kiss her hand.

“Miss Juliana, you are a breath of fresh air.”

She sighed. “I imagine you get more than enough fresh air on board your frigate, Captain.”

He rubbed his smooth jaw, his brown eyes assessing her. “Tis not the same as the invigorating sensation of seeing you.”

Nausea soured her stomach. “You flatter me overmuch, Captain. However, I fear I have no time for visitors today.” Especially not visitors prone to snooping around asking too many questions.

“Miss Juliana.” Nichols held the door firm against her attempt to shut it as his expression turned to one of pleading. “Pray, since you give me no choice, I must make bold. I insist you reconsider your engagement to that buffoon, Munthrope. I know you have no affection for him. Why, you never gave him a moment’s notice, even shriveled in disdain whenever you saw him. Faith now, this effort to make me jealous has gone too far.”

The flat line of his dark eyebrows indicated the man was serious. Juliana could not decide between feeling sorry for him or being angry at his overinflated ego. “You make too free with your opinions, sir. I cannot in good conscience allow you to continue under such a misguided perception. My engagement to Lord Munthrope is real, I assure you. And though I am sorry for your jealousy, in good sooth, I beg you to turn your affections elsewhere.”

Spite appeared in his eyes. “As you already have, my dear?” He shifted his stance and raised a wooly eyebrow. “Word about town is you’ve been seen with the ignoble Pirate Earl. Late at night and even”—he curled his lip—“before dawn.”

Blast that Mr. Pell! Juliana flattened her lips and made a note to chastise the footman for his loose tongue. “I never took you for a man who dabbles in gossip, Captain Nichols.”

“Then, it is not true?”

“Do you take me for the type of woman who associates with pirates? Now, if you please.” She started to close the door, when Rowan’s voice boomed from behind her.

“He’s not come to see you, dear sister.”

Gripping the banister, her brother limped down the stairs, wincing with each step, and halted beside her, a playful grin on his bruised face. Despite his black eye and swollen nose, he was the epitome of fashion from the heels of his Turkish shoes to the gold-laced edges of his silk cravat. “The captain and I have business to discuss.”

Alarm prickled her skin. “What business could you possibly—?”

Captain Nichols brushed past her and entered the foyer, greeting her brother with a dip of his head. “Mr. Dutton, thank you for seeing me.” He glanced at the carved crown molding circling the room then up the mahogany staircase. “And how is your father these days? I heard he was ill.”

“You heard incorrectly, sir. He is quite well, I assure you.” Juliana shut the door, forcing a causal tone. “However he is overwhelmed with work at the moment. I’m sure you understand.”

“Rowan, may I have a word?” She gave a tight smile toward her brother before facing the captain. “Captain Nichols, would you care to wait in the sitting room?” She gestured toward the right, where two doors opened to a colorful, sunlit room.

The naval officer pursed his thin lips. “Wherever is your butler? ’Tis unseemly for you to be answering your own door.”

“Surely as a Post-Captain in his Majesty’s Navy, you can navigate to the sitting room without him?” She smiled sweetly.

“Of course.” He gave a stiff bow and marched away as Juliana dragged her imbecilic brother aside, not caring when he winced in pain.

“Why did you agree to see that man in our home? Are you daft?”

Rowan swept aside strands of light hair from his face and smiled. “Daft? I believe we established that long ago.” He kissed her cheek. “But ’tis you who will lose your youthful beauty with all this unnecessary fretting. Why, dear sister, you already have shadows beneath your eyes. We wouldn’t want Lord Munthrope—excellent catch, by the way”—he winked—“to change his mind. ”

“I care not what Lord Munthrope does, and I have shadows beneath my eyes because I forfeit my rest to keep this family afloat!”

“And you are doing an excellent job at it. Excellent, I say. Now, if you’ll allow, whatever business Nichols has with me, I’m sure it has nothing to do with you.”

“I doubt that. Do you realize—” Juliana slammed her mouth shut, forcing back her rising fury. “Do you realize that the captain has been most curious about our shipping business and our family as of late? Always asking questions, sticking that pointy nose of his where he has no right?”

Rowan shrugged and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Don’t vex yourself so, Sister. The man is harmless. His curiosity stems from his interest in you. Once he accepts your betrothal to Munthrope, he’ll relent, to be sure.”

“What if he sees me in father’s study behind his desk doing his work? What if he notices our depleted staff? Hears father’s sickly cough? He should not be here at all. If he continues to visit, he’ll wonder why father never comes out to greet him.”

“Becalm yourself, dear sister, I have the situation in hand.”

“What you hope to have in hand is the dear captain’s money. Of that I am sure,” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t like him paying off your gambling debts. I’ll not allow it, do you take me?”

Rowan fingered the lace at his cuffs. “Would you prefer I be tossed into the bay?”

“I would prefer you not gamble away our fortune.” She settled herself. “Can you not see I’m trying my best to provide for us? I could use your help, Rowan. At the very least, if you would not resist me.” She sighed in weariness at the same look of remorse he always gave her. “We must pay Nichols back. I cannot be in his debt.”