A Thoroughly Compromised Lady

by Bronwyn Scott

  ‘The cloak reeks!’ Dulci held the offending garment away from herself.

  ‘Put it on. We’ve got another stop to make. This is nothing. We’re just getting started.’ Jack gave her an infuriating wink. The damnable man was enjoying this!

  ‘You might not enjoy this so much when you hear what I have to say.’ Dulci reluctantly shrugged into the cloak, understanding the necessity for it. ‘A group of men in official-looking uniforms passed by. They weren’t British. It sounded like they may have been speaking Spanish. They can’t stop the ship from sailing, can they, Jack? They wouldn’t have any authority over a British ship departing from a British port.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘No, they can’t stop the ship. You’re right, they have no jurisdiction over it.’

  ‘But they could stop us,’ Dulci replied quietly. She saw immediately what Jack had omitted from his answer. If there was a warrant to detain Jack over a diplomatic concern, Ortiz could certainly raise a big enough fuss to have him removed from the ship; legalities of such an action could be sorted out later if enough paper and permits were waved in a chaotic situation.

  ‘They could stop me. They couldn’t stop you. There’s no reason to stop you, you’re a free citizen able to come and go as you please.’ Jack gripped her shoulders. ‘This is no time for heroics, Dulci. Promise me you will get on that ship and stay on it no matter what.’

  Dulci wanted to protest, but the truth was that she’d put Jack in more danger if she didn’t get on the ship. It wasn’t her nature to leave someone behind, but she would not risk another unnecessarily if she could do something to prevent it. ‘I hope it doesn’t come to that,’ she said solemnly.

  ‘It won’t, I have a plan.’ Jack’s levity returned. ‘We’re going inside that brothel over there. Stay close to me and don’t take that cloak off. We’re going in through the kitchen entrance at the back but still, we’ve got enough chances to take tonight without adding another one.’

  Ten minutes later, Jack thrust a bundle of clothes at her. ‘Put these on. You can use the bathing screen over there. Be quick.’

  ‘At least these don’t smell like gin.’ Dulci shot Jack a displeased look.

  She could do this, she told herself. She was brave. She could fence, she could take her carriage alone to warehouses on the docks, she’d participated in count less feats of daring, she could certainly do this.

  Dulci slid the cheap satiny gown over her head, her hands shaking as she did up the ribbon lacing in front. This was about real danger, this was not like her other dares. Nothing more than easily replaced guineas were at stake then. The dress fit well enough for its purpose although the bodice was tight and far too revealing, her breasts pushed up high to show all but their tips.

  Dulci folded her clothes and stepped around the screen, determined to make light of the gown, but she didn’t get a single joke past her lips. The sight of Jack trans formed was enough to render her speech less.

  A common sailor stood before her in ragged trousers and blowsy shirt that must have been white years ago. A patch covered one green eye, soot from the hearth shadowed his jaw and darkened his winter-wheat hair. She would not have recognised him if it hadn’t been for the careless smile he gave her. She took a step towards him and wrinkled her nose. ‘You smell terrible.’

  ‘Ready for a night on the town with ole Jackie, me luv?’ Jack replied, stuffing their clothes into a bag. He laid some coins on the kitchen table and thanked the cook who’d sent him upstairs for the garments.

  ‘I liked you better when you were a gentleman,’ the cook groused when Jack bent to give her a playful kiss.

  ‘Me too,’ Jack answered heartily, sweeping Dulci out into the street and closing the door behind him.

  ‘Pink becomes you, Dulci. You look right fetching in that gown. Perhaps you can make it the latest rage.’ Jack leaned on her, causing both of them to stumble like drunks.

  ‘Don’t tease me, Jack,’ Dulci hissed. ‘Anyone looking at me can practically see every inch of my “bountiful charms”. And I’m cold.’

  ‘All the better to see you, m’dear,’ Jack drawled, pointedly fixing his gaze on the imprint of erect nipples beneath the cheap cloth.

  Dulci swatted at him. ‘I am in no mood for your sordid jokes.’ She made to draw the gin-soaked cloak closer about her.

  ‘Don’t you dare, Dulci,’ Jack cautioned. ‘Your bountiful charms are going to be our salvation. If everyone’s looking at them, they won’t be thinking about us.’

  ‘It’s not funny, Jack.’

  Jack winked with his one ‘good eye’. ‘Of course it is, there’s something funny in everything.’

  But neither of them was laughing when they approached the ship. With an hour to go before it sailed, the docks around the boat were bustling with activity. Men strode up and down the gang plank with last-minute supplies. Early morning vendors were preparing for a new day of business. Fishermen were beginning to come in from night fishing with the day’s catch. Fishwives and doxies roamed among the men. Drunkards and whores stumbled home to sleep off excesses. Amid the bustle, Ortiz’s men stood at attention, questioning those who went past. To Dulci’s eye, going unnoticed looked daunting and nigh on impossible.

  ‘I don’t think anyone slips by them,’ Dulci whispered to Jack.

  ‘You’re right about that. But we aren’t going to slip, we’re going to be noticed.’ Jack wore a smug smile. If she hadn’t seen the concern in his eyes earlier, she would have sworn Jack was having fun, all dressed up in smelly clothes and only a step ahead of disaster. There was no trace of his doubts now.

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘We’re just going to walk right up the gang plank.’

  Dulci frowned. ‘Run. Walk. You come up with great plans.’

  ‘They work,’ Jack said simply, gathering her to him. ‘Now, kiss me once for courage.’

  He was still kissing her, sloppy and wide-mouthed, when they emerged into the street, tripping over one another, staggering over the hem of her gown, Jack’s hands wandering lewdly over her breasts, a hand occasion ally dipping to squeeze her buttocks. It was quite the sinful display and Dulci knew she looked well used by the time they made the base of the gang plank. A sailor bumped into them on the gangway and swore at Jack for drunken laziness. A few others shouted up ribald comments. Jack shouted back replies in a sailor’s cant Dulci didn’t pretend to under stand. She played her part feverishly, returning Jack’s kisses with wanton abandon, hanging on him with a whore’s desperation, which wasn’t too far from her own desperation, truth be told. Her heart hammered beneath her gown. At every step, she expected them to be stopped. Surely the guards would not let them pass unquestioned, but each step took them further from notice and closer to the safety of the ship.

  Down the wharf, there was a commotion, a clatter of hooves and a frustrated cry. ‘Don’t look,’ Jack commanded in her ear, nipping fiercely at her ear lobe. ‘Ortiz has arrived. But no worries, we’ve made it.’

  ‘Jack, is that you? You old dog!’ A booming voice that Dulci was thankful no one on the wharves could hear greeted them at the top of the gangway.

  ‘Andrew Merryweather, I cannot believe they’ve gone and made you captain!’ Jack returned, pumping the outstretched hand. ‘Finally, a bit of luck today.’

  ‘I got the whole report. All is in order. There’s a cabin ready for you and the king’s own writ and introduction have arrived. You can rest easy for a while now.’

  The captain’s gaze moved in her direction and Dulci tilted her chin up haughtily, gathering her pride. What must the man think of her? Surely he’d seen that little display on the gangway.

  ‘What do we have here, Jack? I wasn’t told there’d be another, ah, guest.’

  ‘This is Lady Dulcinea, the Earl of Stockport’s sister,’ Jack said meaning fully. ‘She was implicated in a rather nasty abduction attempt, which has left me no choice but to bring her along. You know Stockport would never forgive me if I left hi
s sister unprotected.’

  ‘Brandon’s sister, of course. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him. We’ll all have a lot of catching up to do.’

  Dulci felt the captain look at her with new eyes, polite eyes, and she bristled. It shouldn’t have mattered.

  ‘Right now, we would like to change and I need to send a note to Brandon. He’ll be worried sick if any of this reaches his ears before my news does.’ Jack jerked his head to indicate Calisto Ortiz on the dockside. ‘Perhaps we can cast off as soon as possible. We don’t want him trying to board the ship.’

  ‘We’ll be off within the half-hour. I will start immediately,’ Andrew promised, his humour high. ‘What a voyage this will be with you on board, Jack.’

  The cabin was a little larger than expected, but still small—space was always at a premium on board any ship. But there was a wide bed, a table to function as a desk and a sea trunk bolted to the floor. Best of all, there was a little round window.

  There would be arrangements to make in regards to that bed, Dulci thought, eyeing the cabin. If Jack thought he had carte blanche to it and her in it, he’d best think again. There were issues that had to be hammered out between them. But that was for later. Right now, all she wanted to do was put her own clothes on.

  Dulci could feel the ship start to move beneath her feet as she finished dressing. Jack had already washed his face and hair and returned to his regular self. He’d given her a few minutes alone to complete her toilette in the cabin and now he was back, urging her to hurry, to come on deck as the ship slipped its moorings.

  ‘The sun is coming up, Dulci,’ he urged, grabbing her hand, nearly pulling her up the stairs to the deck.

  They found a place at the railing, out of the way of scurrying crew members. Fresh air blew across their faces, the sky pinkened over head. Jack was behind her, his arms about her waist, pulling her against him. For the moment, that was all she needed.

  ‘I can’t believe we made it.’ Dulci sighed.

  ‘I can. It’s been quite a night, hasn’t it?’ Jack was nipping at her ear again.’

  ‘You’re in satiable,’ she scolded, but she didn’t mind. Jack was safe. She was safe.

  The boat slid down the Thames. It would be a while before they reached open sea, but they were underway. There was no going back.

  Impulsively, Dulci raised her arm and waved to the shore.

  ‘Who are you waving at?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Calisto Ortiz.’ Dulci turned in Jack’s arms. ‘Just in case he’s watching.’

  Jack laughed. ‘Well, in that case, let’s make it good.’ He swept her into a kiss, and Dulci gave herself over to it. Soon the enormity of what she’d done, of what Jack had done, would sink in. She might even be appalled. But that was for later.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two weeks later

  More sensual surroundings Jack could not have better designed: the turquoise of the ocean sparkled beneath the sun, the breeze warm and gentle in his face as he stood on deck, Dulci a few feet ahead of him, unaware of his presence.

  He wanted to drink in the sight of her as she was right now in the moment—bare footed, her black hair loose down her back, the bright cotton of the Spanish skirt they’d purchased when they’d put into port fluttering play fully at her ankles. She wore a loose white peasant’s blouse, also courtesy of the local market they’d frequented, showing off her curves quite nicely. Absolutely a vision of loveliness. In the days they’d been at sea, she’d won the hearts of a sceptical crew easily and Jack yearned for her with a never-ending intensity. But he’d played the gentleman and strung up a hammock in their shared cabin, unwilling to take advantage of the situation although it was becoming tortuous to do so. This next task he had to perform would be tortuous as well. There were five weeks at sea before them and they had to talk.

  He moved forwards, his boots sounding on the wood planks of the deck. Dulci turned at the sound, a content smile on her lips. ‘Isn’t it beautiful out here, Jack?’

  ‘It can be,’ he answered, taking up a place at the rail with her. ‘It’s not so beautiful in the midst of a storm, although I know that’s hard to believe on such a glorious day.’ There was a hub of land fast approaching and Jack pointed to it. ‘That’s a nice deserted island; it has a sheltered bay. Andrew plans to put in there and take a day of relaxation. The beaches are sandy, the water is warm. We should reach it by this afternoon.’ Dulci’s face lit up at the prospect of some adventure.

  ‘We should talk before then, Dulci. Perhaps we should have talked days ago,’ Jack began.

  Dulci didn’t flinch. She kept her gaze fixed on the horizon and the approaching island. ‘I think we’re doing fine, Jack. The cabin is working out. You needn’t worry overmuch about my modesty.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about the cabin, Dulci. I want to talk about us, about you, really.’ Jack tried again. ‘Maybe I should begin with an apology. I’ve put you in a horrible position. I’ve ruined you quite thoroughly with this gambit of mine. Incomparables can’t run off to sea with gentlemen even if they are viscounts.’

  Dulci gave a slow nod of her head. ‘I am well aware of that, Jack. But what’s done is done and there’s no going back. We didn’t have much of a choice.’ She gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. ‘I was tired of being an Incomparable anyway.’

  Jack gave a snort of disbelief. ‘You? Tired of ruling London? I don’t believe it, Dulci.’

  Dulci turned at his challenge and leaned back against the railing. ‘Believe it, Jack. I’ve been tired of it for some time. Frankly, I’m surprised I lasted this long, but maybe I was afraid to let it go when it really came down to it. Being an Incomparable is difficult work: all the gowns, always looking fresh, and all those silly young men.’ Dulci rolled her eyes. ‘All those puppies needing their egos stroked and a woman to laugh at their jokes. It was fun at first, a great game. But then my friends I came out with began to marry and have their own families and I was more and more alone every year.’

  ‘The races? The dares?’ Jack prodded, fascinated by this look into Dulci’s thoughts. ‘Am I to believe they were all products of your boredom?’

  ‘I like a challenge.’ Dulci’s eyes held a teasing glint. ‘Maybe that’s why I put up with you.’

  ‘I am a good kisser,’ Jack replied. He was already thinking about what he’d like to do once they reached the island. He’d stopped here once before with Andrew and knew of a private cove where he and Dulci could get up to all kinds of sinful decadence.

  ‘That’s all I expect, Jack. Good kisses.’ Dulci was all seriousness now, returning to the topic at hand. ‘I’ve been thinking these past weeks about my future. If British Guiana is promising, maybe I’ll stay. I don’t think London will ever be the same, at least not for me. But whatever I decide, it will be my decision. You don’t have to be responsible for me, Jack. You don’t owe me anything. You saved me in London and I won’t repay you for that by trapping you into something you don’t want.’

  The island neared and Jack felt a sense of disappointment swamp him. She didn’t want anything from him? Didn’t expect anything beyond the immediate adventure to hand? That should fill him with elation, but it left him with a certain emptiness he couldn’t explain. Did she think he wasn’t capable of offering more? Such a thought wounded his male ego. But he had five weeks to change her mind, to show her he could offer more than sin and seduction. If he wanted.

  Ah, that was the real question. Thankfully he had five weeks to sort that out too. Was he actually in love with Dulci Wycroft? Maybe it was finally time to name the amorphous emotion that had floated through him since the night she’d downed an intruder with a candlestick. If he could name it, then maybe he could decide what he ought to do about Dulci. Regardless of the answers yet to be revealed, the five weeks started today.

  The ship sailed smoothly into the sheltered bay and the island lay before them, pristine and quiet. There was the sound of the anchor chain being lowered as preparations
were made to go ashore. Dulci had been strangely silent during the process, her head averted, taking in the island to the exclusion of all else, fully lost in thought. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one wrestling with the un nameable something between them. But unlike him, it appeared that Dulci had arrived at some sort of conclusion for the present.

  Dulci boldly moved against him, her arms twining around his neck, the familiar scent of her filling his nostrils with her nearness. She reached up to whisper in his ear, ‘Take me to the island, Jack.’

  His body reacted fiercely and immediately at her invitation. His voice was hoarse with desire when he answered her, gruff and impatient with his need, ‘Come on, then, Dulci, they’re lowering the boats.’

  Sin and seduction aside, all she wanted was to be with Jack. She’d decided at the rail that morning she was done with the awkward limbo their relationship hung in. She was thoroughly ruined in rumour, she might as well be thoroughly ruined in truth. Dulci Wycroft the Incomparable had tumbled from her pinnacle. It might as well be for a good reason and Jack was the best reason she could think of. Her body craved him and the wildness he un leashed in her. This passion would not last for ever. Jack was not capable of that, had never professed to be. But she would take what she could have and be satisfied with it. Sharing close quarters with Jack had rendered her entirely aroused in a most un lady like way. The island seemed to provide a perfect antidote for what ailed her.

  The island was any woman’s romantic paradise. She’d not bothered with shoes when they’d climbed on a boat to row ashore and now her feet sank into the pleasant warmth of the sand as Jack led her apart from the group, saying only, ‘I know a spot.’

  Dulci was all too happy to let Jack take her hand and lead her around the headland of the island, the ocean waves lapping occasionally at their feet. Jack carried his shoes in his other hand, having stopped to take them off and roll up his trouser legs once they were out of sight.