The Perfect Wife

by Victoria Alexander

  She stretched her arms wide above her head in a gesture that brought to mind the testing of wings by a rare bird just released from its cage. “They do, do they not? Although”—her hands dropped to rest on the flat of her stomach—“I had to locate new laces for the breeches. Sabrina seemed somehow to have misplaced them. How very odd.”

  “One wonders…”

  She ignored him. “At any rate, I rather like this apparel. It provides such a marvelous sense of—”

  “Freedom?”

  “That’s it exactly. Freedom.” Excitement danced across her face. “I find it glorious.”

  “I expect you’ll be hard-pressed to give it up when you return to London.”

  “Oh, I shan’t be returning home.”

  He cocked his head in surprise. “What do you mean, I shan’t be returning home?”

  She pinned him with a steady stare. “I daresay the King’s English is substantially different from that which you Americans speak, but I never suspected the differences would hinder comprehension. Which word did you fail to understand?”

  Abruptly uncomfortable at her cutting response, Matt drew his brows together in annoyance. “I understood what you said, I just don’t understand why you said it. And I’d wager your brother won’t either.”

  “My brother has little to say on the matter,” she said loftily.

  Matt snorted. “Your brother will have a great deal to say, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when he says it.”

  “Captain Madison.” Patience underscored her words. “I have lived my entire life thus far according to the dictates of my position in society. I have been an exemplary daughter, sister, and aunt. My only failure has been an inability to procure a husband who would suit. My only true excitement has been limited to the pages of my books. Books, Captain, have been my life.

  “It is past time to see for myself all I have read of. My father, for all his faults, and Nicholas would no doubt be more than willing to expound on those, has provided me with the means to an independent life. There are no conditions on the fortune he left me, no encumbrances, no trustees. I am, therefore, now the master of my own destiny, the captain of my own ship, as it were. I intend to sail it straight into whatever adventure lies ahead.”

  Unease churned in his belly. The woman was an innocent with no knowledge of the ways of the world. She needed to be set straight and fast. “So it’s adventure you seek. Be advised, this world, my world, is as different from your pampered, protected society as night is from day and a far cry from any book. Here adventure has its price.” He grabbed her arm roughly. “Danger is more often than not the bedfellow of adventure. Have you considered that? The harm that could befall a woman alone? The men who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of you?”

  She returned his heated glare with a composed smile. “Have you taken advantage of many women, Captain?”

  “What?” He jerked his hand back as if scalded. “What kind of a question is that?”

  She shrugged and sighed. “It seems our language barrier continues. I simply wondered if you are an example of the type of man you are warning me against. If you have had a great number of amorous encounters, romantic liaisons, lovers—”

  “That’s enough!” He stared. “I understand the question, I’m just not accustomed to having it asked from a well-bred lady.”

  “Very well. Then—”

  “Why don’t you ask your brother? From all I’ve heard, he’s had a considerable career with the fair sex.”

  Lady Wynnefred laughed, rich, mellow tones that lingered on the breeze. “Captain, I could never ask my brother this. He would no doubt choke on the words and end up dead at my feet in a fit of apoplexy.”

  Matt smiled ruefully at the image. He shook his head in surrender. “Why on earth do you want to know?”

  Her dark eyes gleamed. “I rather think I should know what to expect.”

  “What to expect?” Unease sounded in his voice.

  “Certainly. From those men I will encounter on my adventures. Men eager for my fortune and, no doubt, my virtue.” She stepped closer; her scent wafted around him, fresh and vaguely floral, her voice low and intoxicating. “Tell me, Captain.” She rested her hand on his chest. “What may I expect?”

  He stared into her eyes, flecked with gold, simmering and enticing. Eyes that beckoned and drew him into their bottomless depths. Who was this creature? A siren from beneath the waves? A sorceress from the heavens above? Fate?

  “Hell and damnation.” He groaned and pulled her into his arms. Her breasts crushed his chest; her lips greeted his. “This.”

  He should be gentle, she was so obviously unused to such treatment, but the eagerness of her response shattered his restraint and spurred his desire. Her lips parted beneath his and he savored the honey-sweet, sea-salt taste of her. His fingers entwined in the silky tresses at the nape of her neck and his hand splayed across the small of her back. She slid her arms around his neck and molded her body to his. He shifted his hips against hers and instinctively she responded, pressing closer in rhythm to the throbbing tension winding within him.

  Shock shot through him at their embrace, made all the more intimate by the feeble protection of the breeches between them. He pulled away, his breath fast and uneven. Her eyes were glazed with desire, her face flushed with passion. Her breasts heaved beneath her shirt and singed his chest where they pressed against him.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing.” His words rasped from his throat. “I suspect you have never been with a man.”

  She tilted her face toward his. Her sultry voice belied her words. “If you are questioning my virginity, Captain, it is intact.”

  He pulled a steadying breath. Deflowering virgins, even those past the first stare of youth and willing to boot, was not a job he sought. In spite of the larceny in his soul, he considered himself an honorable man. There was something distinctly dishonorable about bedding Bree’s sister-in-law. But, oh God, she was lovely and the passion within her tempted so close to the surface. So ready for the right man. “Lady Wynnefred—”

  “Wynne will do nicely,” her lips murmured against his neck.

  “Wynne, I don’t think—”

  “Captain.” She kissed him in a teasing manner on the base of his throat, and he swallowed convulsively. “I believe we are far past time for thinking.”

  “Wynne, I—”

  “Let’s not think, shall we?” She moved to the sensitive spot behind his ear and nibbled delicately.

  He shuddered. “I wouldn’t want your brother to say I seduced you.”

  She laughed softly. “I should be happy to correct him, as I am fairly certain you are not the one doing the seducing.”

  In one last attempt to dissuade her, he gathered his fraying senses, caught her hands with his, and pulled her to face him. “Wynne, this is not one of your books,” he said harshly. “There is no love here. This is passion and lust and need. Nothing more.”

  Her gaze locked with his, and slowly she raised his hand, still clasping hers, to her lips. Her manner bewitching and provocative, she rubbed his knuckle along her lower lip, her gaze never breaking with his. His blood pounded in his veins and his good intentions melted under her touch.

  He jerked her back into his arms and bent his mouth to hers. “You realize I will not marry you.”

  “No, Captain,” she said, scarcely a whisper against his lips. “I will not marry you.”

  He stared for a moment, released her, and stepped back. “I’ll be in my cabin tonight.”

  She smiled serenely, as if nothing had passed between them but an amusing conversation. Only the stormy fervor in her eyes revealed differently. “I shall no doubt see you later then. Captain.” She favored him with a polite bob of her head and turned her attention back to the sea.

  Matt nodded briskly, swiveled on his heel, and strode off. He ached with desire and did not welcome the long hours until evening. Her words echoed in his head. He wondered exactly what she
meant, why it nagged at him, and, more importantly, why he cared.

  No, Captain, I will not marry you.

  “Nicholas… we cannot … we must not … not here…” Sabrina gasped out the words, her protests sinking beneath a haze of arousal.

  Nicholas’s lips explored the crook of her neck. “This side of the deck is deserted tonight, my love; there is no one to see us here save the moon and stars.” He impatiently brushed the sleeve of her shirt over her shoulder, and chills shivered through her at the touch of his mouth.

  “Dear Lord, Nicholas, I have missed you.” She slipped her hand in the opening of his shirt and ran her fingers over the hard planes of his chest. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, and he moaned softly.

  “Sabrina.” He drew her closer, and her palms flattened between them. His mouth possessed hers, and her lips opened eagerly in response. Urgency consumed her, and she thrust her tongue to meet his, hungry and demanding. Her arms snaked around his neck, and she pressed her body tight to his, desperate for his heat. He shifted against her, his arousal insistent behind the layers of clothing that shielded one from another, man from woman, husband from wife.

  He pulled up her shirt, freeing her breasts to his plundering lips. He bent to taste, to savor, first one then the next. She gasped at the exquisite sensations and strained closer. Desire burned within her, and she wanted much, much more.

  “Nicholas… could we … here … now?”

  “Sabrina… how … could we not?” He fumbled for the laces at her waist. Blessedly they released and he slid his hand under her breeches, down her stomach to cup the moist folds at the juncture of her thighs. She moaned and sagged against him, her breathing ragged with need.

  “Hell’s bells, Billy, the cap’n ain’t gonna like that none.”

  The voices came from nowhere, nearly upon them, quelling their passion like a bucket of seawater. It would not do to be caught like rutting animals.

  Nicholas recovered first, struggling to right Sabrina’s clothing. She could do little more than lean against him, drained by desire and unfulfilled need.

  The sailors barely glanced at them in passing, too involved in their discussion over the captain’s displeasure at whatever minor disaster had befallen.

  Sabrina smiled weakly and pushed her disheveled hair away from her face. “I fear I am no longer the reserved lady you selected for a wife.”

  He released a long breath of frustration. “Damnation, Sabrina. I want to be alone with you. I need to be alone with you.”

  “It does seem the ship has become rather crowded of late.”

  “Erick occupies my cabin, barely conscious and weak as a kitten in the bargain. You share quarters with my sister and your daughter. Only that blasted Madison has a cabin for himself alone.”

  “He is the captain.” A captain who Sabrina suspected no longer spent evenings in his cabin alone. Last night she had spied Wynne sneaking out of their room, apparently under the assumption all were asleep. Sabrina noted her return barely before dawn. All day Wynne had wandered the ship with a secret smile on her lips and a faraway look in her eye. As for Matt, each time Sabrina approached, his manner was gruff and preoccupied, not at all his usual self. She was certain something had passed between the two and equally certain it would spell disaster to even hint at her suspicions to Nicholas.

  “You know him well, do you not?” His unexpected question jerked her from her thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Madison,” Nicholas said impatiently. “How well do you know him?”

  “Matt? Let me think.” She chose her words with care. “We were friends long ago. Although I have not seen him for many years, I still hold him in high regard. Somewhat like—”

  “I know, I know, like a blasted brother. We have been through that before.” His tone softened and his eyes glowed in the starlight. “He calls you Bree.”

  “A childhood name. Americans seem quite fond of informal family names.”

  “It suits you.” He paused for a moment. “But you were involved in some kind of business dealing with him, were you not?” He tossed the query off indifferently, as if the answer did not matter. Unease shivered down her spine. He was seeking something beyond a simple answer to the outwardly innocent question.

  “Oh, la, Nicholas.” She winced to herself at the insipid phrase. “That was all so very long ago, I scarce remember any of the details. My solicitor handled much of the endeavor for me.” The lie tripped easily off her tongue in as convincing a manner as she could manage. How many more would she have to tell?

  He seemed satisfied with her response and nodded thoughtfully. “In your dealings with him, did you ever wonder if he might be involved in something illicit? Did he perhaps mention smuggling?”

  “Smuggling?” She forced a carefree laugh from a throat at once dry and tight with tension. “Why ever would you ask that?”

  He shrugged and pulled her back into his arms. “Bits and pieces of a puzzle I have fought to unravel for the past decade. A failure, I fear, on my part that I wish to rectify.”

  “Failure?” She leaned against his chest and tried to slow her rapid breathing to the beat of his heart.

  He sighed. “Surely you do not want to hear—”

  “Oh, but I do.” She had to learn how much he knew, how much he suspected, for Matt’s protection and her own. But it was more than the need to safeguard her secret. Since the moment she’d discovered her past connection with Nicholas, curiosity had gnawed at her. What were his remembrances of that fateful time? Had he dreamed of her through the years as she had of him? Or did he despise her as a criminal and possibly a traitor?

  “Very well.” He paused as if gathering his memories. “It was during the war. A period when I was charged with the apprehension of a daring band of smugglers. I was unable to complete my mission.” He fell silent. “They were led by a woman.”

  “A woman?” Her breath caught in her throat. “How very odd.”

  He rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. “She was extraordinary. Clever and courageous. Ultimately I had to admire her.”

  “You admired her?” she said faintly.

  “Once. She was unlike any woman I had ever encountered. Intriguing and unique.” His embrace tightened. “She haunted my dreams now and again. Until I met you.”

  “Me?” Sabrina held her breath.

  “You too are unique.” He laughed. “I find I have quite enough to handle with one unusual female on my hands. There is no room left, even in my dreams, for another.”

  Her heart leaped with joy, then plummeted. His words were pretty enough, but he was a man accomplished in plying women with fine phrases. He was well versed in lust but untouched by love, and very likely so he would remain. She’d already accepted that fact; she merely had to keep it in mind.

  Foolish though it was to pursue his suspicions of Matt, Sabrina pressed forward. “What does all this have to do with Matt?”

  “I believe he was involved with her.”

  “I imagine Matt has been involved with countless women through the years,” she said, the lightness of her tone belying the taut edge of her nerves. “Why do you believe he has something to do with your mysterious lady?”

  Nicholas was silent, and Sabrina stifled the impulse to pull out of his arms and search his gaze. As much as she wanted to see the expression on his face, she did not dare reveal even a hint of the fear his comments aroused. She longed to read his thoughts in his eyes, but she could not permit him to read hers.

  Nicholas’s words were measured and considering. “It came to me while I was recovering. The name of the ship, this ship”—fear squeezed her heart—“is that of the woman. Lady B. It cannot be a mere coincidence.”

  Her voice was little more than a whisper. “The ship was named for his sister, was it not?”

  “Hah. Madison has no sister, I would wager on it.”

  “None save me.” The words escaped unbidden from her lips and her breath caught.

/>   Nicholas chuckled softly and pulled her closer. “You are his sister only in the depth of his affection. No, I feel certain the ship is named for the woman. And if I have Madison I shall soon have her.”

  Panic crept into the back of her mind, and she struggled to keep it at bay. “And then?”

  Nicholas hesitated. “And then … bring her to justice? Clap her in irons? Toss her into Newgate and throw away the key? I don’t know. Yet. I only know her apprehension would set to rest an unresolved question in my life. Close the book, if you will, on a chapter whose ending has been left unwritten for a decade. I will redeem myself.” He laughed harshly. “If only in my own eyes. If, of course, I can find her.”

  Sabrina swallowed back the terror rising in her throat. What would happen to her, to them, if Nicholas ever learned he already had?

  Chapter 15

  Egypt was at once more and less than Wynne expected. The country was far less civilized than she had anticipated, considering the land’s inhabitants had once ruled the known world. For an Englishwoman unused to travel and accustomed to modern conveniences, Egypt presented unforeseen challenges. They were forced to leave the ship in Abukir Bay in sweltering, dusty, Alexandria and board a bargelike boat for a nearly five-day journey through the lush Nile delta, upriver to Cairo.

  The Nile flowed at a leisurely pace, as if having seen man’s triumphs and failures for eons, it somehow knew the futility of speed and the inevitability of time itself. Life along the banks of the ancient land existed much the same as it had hundreds, even thousands of years ago. The sluggish pace gave Wynne the chance to observe for herself what she’d only read of and a fascinating, if somewhat relaxed, introduction to her new life of adventure. And each engrossing detail was duly noted in her ever-expanding journal.