A Woman Made For Sin

by Michele Sinclair

  Reece said nothing. He only folded his arms and glared at her.

  Aimee glared back. “I am tired of letting you dictate the terms of our relationship, Reece Hamilton.”

  Reece could listen to no more. “We don’t have a relationship, damn it! I am simply a childhood fantasy of yours! It’s time you got over me, grew up, and sought a man who wants you in return.”

  “You were a childhood fantasy; and last Christmas, I did grow up. I was no longer dreaming of love—I was in love with you, and after the kiss we just shared, don’t bother denying that you love me. I won’t believe you.”

  “Not a wit of what you just said matters, Aimee. For nothing that happened then or now has changed who you are or who I am not. It certainly doesn’t change who your brother is. And when I return you safely to his charge, I am going to tell him of your escapades and he is never going to let me or any other sea captain within a hundred miles of you. Nor should he.”

  “I can handle Charles,” Aimee said dismissively and then stepped around him to once again look out at the sea. “But you mistake my demeanor for something that it isn’t. I am far from calm and my ire is just as roused as yours, I can assure you.”

  “Your ire?”

  “Yes. How do you think it feels to love a man who plans and acts on fear and the opinions of others, rather than his own?”

  Reece felt his mouth drop, but no words came out. His sky-blue eyes, however, had turned to ice. Aimee was unfazed. “I shall not endeavor to search for more palatable words to ease your pride. You know that you have been hiding and avoiding me every time you are in London. So, since you refuse to meet with me, I came to you.”

  Reece’s nostrils flared and his breathing became forced. “You did not come to me. I discovered you, near dead and frozen after climbing . . . in a storm . . .” In an effort to regain some control of his turbulent emotions, he raked his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. “I cannot even think about it.”

  “Then I suggest that you do not,” Aimee interjected. “And before you tell me never to climb the masts again, there is no need. I may have no fear of heights, but one terrifying experience on a ship’s mast is enough for a lifetime.”

  Reece was not mollified at all. It mattered not if she was eager or unwilling to climb the riggings. This was not her decision. It was his. “You are never—I mean never—to climb any mast, on any ship, of any size, for any reason, ever again.”

  “I just said I would not.”

  Reece was silent for a moment. Her agreement was sincere, but it was also swift. “Nor will you do anything else that should be done by a crewman.”

  Aimee made a dismissive gesture. “Now you are being ridiculous.”

  Anger forced Reece to his feet so he could pace. His expression was thunderous. “Ridiculous is finding my best friend’s little sister as a stowaway on my ship. Ridiculous is discovering she’s been living here for weeks. Ridiculous is learning that my entire crew knew you were on board and were teaching you how to do their jobs!”

  Aimee ran her fingers through her messed hair, removing some of the larger knots, pretending to be undisturbed by his tirade. “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?”

  Reece threw his hands up in the air and turned away from her to grab the edge of his desk. “What way?” he asked sarcastically. “Mad? Furious?” he added, turning around to capture her gaze. His blue eyes could freeze even salt water. “Maybe because I don’t like to be made a fool, and you made me one to my whole crew. Something I am not sure I will ever forgive you for.”

  For the first time, Aimee looked flustered. “I . . . I did no such thing. Your crew respects you just as they always have.”

  He pushed himself off the desk and walked toward her until she was pinned against the wall, his hands on either side of her head. “Do they, Aimee? Is it respect when two of my crew kidnap and beat a person without authorization? What about when they discover it was a woman they had nearly starved to death? Or how about a chief mate who decides to convince the whole crew to keep it all a secret? Because to me and to any other captain it looks like I’ve completely lost all control.” With his lips almost touching hers, Reece added, “Every man on this ship owes his loyalty to me, and yet so easily they relinquished it to you. But when they did so, it was only at your peril and theirs.”

  Aimee stared at him. Her entire face was flushed, her mouth swollen, and her green eyes reflected regret. Then she pulled in a slow, shuddering breath and closed her eyes, unable to look at him. Reece inhaled, taking a big, deep breath of her. He could feel his composure slipping as a slow wave of lust washed over him. Despite everything, the need to lean just a little closer so his lips were against hers was enormous.

  He pushed himself off the wall and took a step back. He would not give in to his desires again. “If anything happened to you, do you know what would have happened to them? Not their jobs, but their future? What that would mean for their families?”

  The shock of what he said hit her full force. “But you . . . you would not have let that happen. Charles would not—”

  “Lead the march to end every man’s life aboard?” he answered for her. “And do not doubt that the first person he would leg shackle would be me.”

  Aimee swallowed. “You cannot believe that. Charles and you are friends.” She shook her head and hugged herself. “No, you are just saying this because you are mad.” She began to pace. At first her steps were hurried, but then they suddenly slowed. “That’s it. This is about pride. Your pride,” she said and came to a stop. “You are angry, not with the men, not even with me. You just have an insatiable need to be in control of everyone and everything about you. But you don’t control everyone and you most especially don’t control me.”

  Reece faced her without expression, without moving a muscle. “That’s where you are wrong, Lady Wentworth. As long as I am captain of this ship, I absolutely control everything and everyone—including you.” He glanced at the closed door. “Hurlee!”

  Within seconds the large, fair-haired man entered. He sent a quick look of remorse to Aimee. The action only infuriated Reece more. “Take her next door.” Then he turned to Aimee and said coldly, “You are to remain in the chief mate’s quarters until we reach Savannah.”

  Chapter 17

  October 26, 1816

  “Mmm, this is very good, Jean-Pierre. You truly have a gift,” Aimee said, putting the fork down.

  “And you will not eat.”

  Aimee bit her bottom lip. “I will. I promise. Just right now my stomach is somewhat upset.”

  JP made a scoffing sound and crossed his arms. “Never before ’ave you complained of being seasick. Not when you were brought on board, not when we turned to ze open waters, not even during a bad storm. And suddenly you want me to believe you are not well enough to enjoy my food, mademoiselle—or am I supposed to call you somezing else? Don’t you English say Your Grace to someone of your rank?”

  Aimee shook her head. “My brother holds the title of marquess. I’m no one, really, and certainly no one whom you need to address a certain way. In fact, it is you and the men who get the titles out here on the sea. And those are the best kind, for you earned them.”

  JP rolled his eyes. “Well, you are special to us.”

  “I doubt that I am to Mr. Collins. I think I have created quite a problem between him and Mr. Hamilton.”

  “Collins took a tongue-lashing, but if rumors are correct, ’e gave one as well. But I doubt you will be seeing ’im anytime soon.”

  Aimee bit her inner cheek at the thought of Collins being in trouble because of her. “I am so glad you came to visit me. Seems that everyone is very busy since the storm.”

  “Ha!” snorted JP. “Zey want to see you, my lady, but ze captain, ’e refuses to let zem. ’Urlee let me in because I was bringing you food and I told ’im zat ’e would only get ’ard tack if ’e did not open ze door.”

  Aimee looked worried. “If Mr. Hamilton finds o
ut, you will find yourself at the mercy of his wrath.”

  JP shrugged. “Ze captain likes my cooking and knows zere are few wiz my skills willing to live on ze sea. And if I am wrong, zen I ’ave little doubt I would ’ave issues finding anozer position somewhere else.”

  “What about the Poulsen brothers? And Mr. Kyrk? How is he faring?”

  A grimace overtook JP’s expression. “Lamont and Shiv will soon be fine. Mr. Kyrk’s injury was far more serious, but it looks like ’is leg is going to ’eal. But it will take time before ’e can work like ’e did before. ’E is actually much more worried about you, considering what ’appened. All ze men are.”

  Aimee’s eyes widened in shock. “Mr. Hamilton surely told them that I am fine.”

  JP shook his head. “Not exactly. ’E just said zat you woke up. Nozing more, which is one of ze reasons I insisted upon seeing you today. Ze men are anxious to learn if you are truly recovered.”

  Aimee frowned at him in concern. “Don’t they realize the danger I’ve put them all in? That in less than a few weeks they could all find themselves unemployed?”

  JP leaned in close and whispered, “I cannot say for certain, but I doubt ze captain will cut anyone for being nice to you.”

  “You did not see him, Jean-Pierre. The anger . . . the coldness.” Aimee shivered at the recollection. “I’ve known Mr. Hamilton for many years and I’ve never known him to be so hostile to not just me, but everyone. He truly believes I’ve turned his crew against him, and if he is right, then his fury with me is justified. But he is wrong, isn’t he? The crew are not more loyal to me than to him?”

  JP took in a deep breath and then exhaled. “Oui, ’e is wrong. Ze crew is loyal to ’im, but zat is not what ’e is fighting against. Zere is somezing about a woman men will always rally to, my lady, especially when she appears to be in need or unhappy. Loyalty is not a factor, and zerefore it doesn’t factor in our decisions.”

  “So then, Mr. Hamilton was at least partially correct. My being around the men is disruptive and I should stay away.”

  JP shrugged. “We all know you are ’ere and alone. It’ll eat away at ze men, wondering ’ow you are. I’ll tell zem of zis meeting, but unless zey can see for zemselves zat you are well and unhappy, zey will slowly grow agitated. What would be best is for ze crew to know ze captain was seeing to your needs.”

  “I’m not sure there is anything I can do. Mr. Hamilton has made it clear that I must stay away from the crew and from him.”

  JP sighed again. “Then let’s just ’ope the men can last two weeks until we reach Savannah.” He pulled open the door to let himself out. “I’ll be back, my lady. Take ’eart. Maybe something or someone will convince ’im to change ’is mind.”

  Reece watched through the crack in the door as Aimee slowly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear to reveal the delicate nape of her neck. The sight was both sensual and provocative. His body stirred and Reece grew annoyed. His reaction smacked of possessiveness. But she was not his and everyone on board now knew it, which left a man’s mind to wander. And while Reece refused to claim Aimee, he detested the idea that he was at the same time giving up the right to challenge any man who desired her for his own.

  JP turned to leave and Reece quickly took a step back from the door to avoid being seen. He did not doubt for a second that the crotchety old cook knew that he was in his cabin and able to overhear everything that was said next door. JP had made his point. Maybe the men’s reaction to Aimee was not a question of loyalty, but rather human nature. And that nature made the men need to know Aimee was not just alive, but well. But what JP also proved was that Aimee was not just any woman.

  The men had brought women aboard the Sea Emerald before, and though several of the crew had become smitten, a few never had. JP was one of them. So were Shiv Poulsen, Kyrk, Carr, and Afton Acker, an able-bodied seamen who didn’t much care for women even on land. All five men were nearly hostile to women aboard the ship, JP and Kyrk being the most hostile of them all. And yet it was JP who risked all to check on Aimee and Kyrk who was more worried about her than himself.

  Aimee was more powerful and addicting than opium, which meant one thing. He absolutely was correct in keeping her completely away from his men.

  “Lord Aldon!” Chase called out, glad to have finally found where his wife was. The staff at the main house had been surprised, almost flustered to see him there at Abileen

  Rose, asking about his wife. Finally, the housekeeper came and told him that he might not want to wait in the parlor, but go out to the stables.

  Lord Aldon looked up from where he was crouched down, examining one of the legs of a prize horse. Getting to his feet, he said in a tone that matched his surprise, “Chaselton! What brings you here?”

  Chase paused just inside the stable doors, trying to interpret his father-in-law’s genuine shock to see him. He had left midmorning and had been riding nearly nonstop to get there by nightfall, and had not sent word ahead of his visit. Chase’s letter would not have been delivered until the day after his arrival, and he had hoped to surprise his wife. “Well, Aldon, I suppose I came here for the reason you would expect—to see my wife and then bring her home.”

  Lord Aldon raised a single brow. Then he stripped off his gloves and pointed to the stable doors. Once they were outside and out of earshot of any stable hands, he said, “I consider myself a lucky man when some fathers would not. I love my daughter immensely and enjoy her company, as her interests and mine thankfully overlap to a large degree. And while I will always welcome her home, even for unplanned visits like this past one, can I assume that whatever unhappy circumstances led to my daughter spontaneously needing to spend time with me, will not be repeated?”

  Chase inhaled. It had been a number of years since his father’s death, but he knew he was being given a fatherly lecture. Lord Aldon was not a man of Town, preferring the country and his horses as company, but that did not make him any less sharp to the ways of men and women. Chase understood his meaning clearly, and while a part of him bristled at being lectured, he did appreciate its subtle and brief nature.

  “I can assure you, Aldon, that the unhappy situation leading Millie to stay here with you was unique and shall not be repeated.” Chase wanted to add, if your daughter would just behave. But he did not.

  “That is good,” Aldon nodded, clapping Chase on the back. The older man was of average height, but his wide shoulders and solid physique diminished the appearance of a difference in their heights. “Let’s go back to the house and I will have Millie’s things brought down.”

  Chase shook his head. “I did not come by coach, to save time. I just came to see my wife and if possible, borrow your coach to take us down to Dorset. Her things can join us whenever her maids can get them ready.”

  Aldon stopped in midstride. “You came here to see Millie?” he asked, clearly perplexed. Millie had left for her friend Jennelle’s a week ago, and in all that time she had not informed her husband? Whatever had happened between them was far more serious than he had originally believed, for it was quite unlike Millie to hold a grudge for so long.

  “This is where I have been sending my letters. They have not been returned,” Chase said crisply. His father-in-law’s question filled him with dread, for there was only one reason he would ask it—Millie was no longer at Abileen Rose.

  Lord Aldon resumed walking, increasing the pace and length of his stride. “Millie must have given instructions to the housekeeper.”

  “And why would she need to give such instructions?” Chase pressed.

  Not intimidated in the least by the bite in Chase’s question, Lord Aldon answered him. “Most likely because you hurt her greatly and she did not want to tell you herself just where she went.”

  Chase scowled. Lord Aldon had shifted from intimations to actual accusations, and damn the man for being right. “We had a . . . misunderstanding concerning one of her bolder pastimes.”

  Aldon nodded in complete unde
rstanding. He was well aware that his daughter was considered “undisciplined” in comparison to most well-bred young ladies. And for a nobleman’s daughter she was positively wild. But he did not care. In his opinion, too many women were overly compliant and boring. It was his wife who had shown him that life was much better lived and enjoyed unreservedly and with passion. His wife was no longer with him, but she lived on through Millie. In her youth, he had refused to let anyone suggest her love for life and adventure be suppressed. But he had not always been so understanding. It took some painful lessons for him to learn to appreciate just why he loved his wife so and that if he tried to change her, subdue her inclinations, he was destroying the very essence of her that filled him with joy and love.

  Regrettably, it was not a lesson that could be shared. One had to learn it firsthand. As he had come to learn it, so would Chase. A personality like Millie’s required acceptance—not taming. In time, she would learn when to control her tendencies, but it would not be through instruction—and certainly not by sending her away.

  Lord Aldon stepped up to the house and the door opened for him and Chase to enter. Handing his gloves to the doorman, he headed back to the library, his favorite room. He poured himself a small glass of port and then one for Chase, deciding the man needed one whether he realized it or not.

  “I knew when Millie came that she was unhappy and that something had happened between you two.” Aldon put up a hand to keep Chase from interrupting. “It happens to every couple, especially those who actually are attached to each other. I did not ask because I did not—and still do not—want to get involved. However, it did pain me to see her so unhappy day after day.”

  Chase swallowed. He had thought sending Millie away to Abileen Rose and her father would lighten her spirits, not further dampen them.

  “So while I did not ask the cause of her depression,” Aldon continued, “I did encourage her to take action. Eventually, she would have done so anyway, for Millie has never been the type to sit by and watch others tackle difficulties she considers to be hers. So I encouraged her, thinking it best to give her a little guidance and support, for as you know, when thwarted, she will take action anyway, and it always takes a far more precarious form.”