The Blood Reaver

by Barbara Devlin

  “Captain Reyson, if I might beg a moment of your time, I would have a word with you.” The lady foremost on his mind joined him at the helm, and Murtaugh grinned. “While I am grateful for your assistance, and I do not wish to complain, I must insist you provide my mother with a suitable bed, because she cannot use a hammock.”

  “Miss Armistead, may I call you Rose? And you may address me as Turner.” Ah, it was just as he planned. She made the first move and sought his company, much sooner than he expected, and that boded well for him. “Red suits you.”

  “Captain Reyson, I do not think it proper to make you free with my name, when it is doubtful our acquaintance will extend beyond the trip to Charles Town.” She blushed. “And I have too much respect for you to greet you so informally.”

  “I have no interest in your respect.” Swift and sure, he took her hand in his, bent, and kissed the backs of her knuckles, and she shivered, as gooseflesh trailed up her arm. “And to me you are Rose, for as long as you enjoy my hospitality, or would you slight me?”

  “Of course, not.” Easily manipulated, she blinked, as she opened and then closed her mouth, and he could almost read her thoughts. “I apologize, Captain Reyson, as I meant no offense. I would be honored to make you free with my name, if you so wish, for the brief term of our association.”

  “I do wish, and I would have you call me Turner.” As she tried to withdraw, he held fast to her hand. “I promise it will not kill you. In exchange for your cooperation, I will have my men install a small bunk for your mother, but that is my lone concession, because wood is a precious commodity, should we suffer damage and require a refit, at sea. Have we a bargain, Rose?”

  “All right…Turner.” His name fell as a whisper from her lips, and the old long cannon in his breeches roared to life. It had been too long since he had a woman. “I shall abide your request for the remainder of our journey, if you make that minor adjustment for my mother’s benefit.”

  “You are a shrewd negotiator.” As was he. At last, he let her go free, and she took a single step in retreat. “Is there anything else I can provide to make your voyage more pleasurable?”

  “Pleasurable?” He chuckled at her slack expression. “I believe what you supplied is sufficient, excepting the bunk for my mother.” Then she thrust a small purse at him. “As agreed, half payment, in pounds sterling, for your service.”

  “Thank you.” After pocketing the boon, he studied a tempting curl, which danced in the wind, and he could not resist tucking the wayward lock behind her ear. Before he made an arse of himself, because she inspired all manner of wicked thoughts, he sought a distraction. “I will see to the bunk, myself. Shall we go below?”

  “I beg your pardon?” She clutched her throat. “You intend to enter my private cabin?”

  “How else do you expect me to oversee the renovation, personally?” And he would enter more than her chamber, only she did not know it. “Do you fear me, Rose?”

  “No.” She rocked in place. “That is to say, I did not realize you would take such interest in our accommodation, and I would not interfere in your usual duties, which I presume are far more important than my mother’s bunk, given you are the captain.”

  “But nothing is more important than the needs of my paying guests.” Wrapping an arm about her waist, he turned her toward the companion ladder and signaled the carpenter’s mate. “And you, my dear Rose, are my first priority.”

  “I am?” She gulped. “What of your other passengers?” The charming young woman glanced left and then right. “I did not see anyone else come aboard with us.”

  “That is because you and your family are my only paying fares.” He let that sink in, and her mouth fell agape, as they navigated below decks. “So, I have nothing better to do than cater to your every whim, Rose.”

  “Captain—”

  “Turner.” How he adored the flare in her gaze, when he corrected her. “If you recall, you agreed. Do you renege, Rose?”

  “N-no.” She huffed a breath. “I simply forgot our temporary arrangement. Be that as it may, I cannot accept such personal assurances, as it is not appropriate for a lady of character.” As she strolled past the galley, she peered over her shoulder. “We have just enough money to pay you what we owe you. If I find myself obligated to you, I have no means to settle the debt.”

  “I would not say that.” He admired the sway of her hips, as they neared her quarters. “Given your negotiating skills, and your ability to bend me to your will, I wager we could come to some understanding, to our mutual satisfaction.”

  At the door to her cabin, she knocked. “Mama, it is Rose, and I have Captain Reyson with me.”

  “Come in, child.”

  The older woman sat at a small table and daubed her nose with a handkerchief, as they entered.

  “Mrs. Armistead, I am told you are unable to manage a hammock, so I have summoned my carpenters to solve the problem.” He stepped aside, drawing Rose with him. “It will not take long, if you would prefer to wait in my cabin.”

  “Oh, I could never do that.” The mother appeared on the verge of swooning. “But I wonder if you could remove the cannon, because it makes me quite nervous.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” He shook his head. “But this is a working ship, and there are guns in every chamber.” Slowly, he trailed his hand along Rose’s side, until his fingers just grazed the crest of her breast, and she wrenched loose. “Are you all right, Rose?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Again, she flushed a lovely shade of red, and he could not contain a chuckle at her expense. “Mama and I are just fine, and we do not wish to keep you, so I thank you for your consideration.”

  “Believe me, you are no imposition.” When she held open the door, he smiled, and she compressed her lips in a thin line. In a low voice, he said, “Because I am most definitely at your service, Rose.”

  The first three days of the trip passed in a flurry of activity, as Mama and Clinton suffered the sickness associated with ocean travel, and Rose spent all her time caring for her family, not that she objected. To her disappointment and her relief, Captain Reyson made himself scarce, and she had not seen him since their questionable exchange, which still gave her shivers. But the stifling heat combined with Mama’s malady to suffocate Rose, and she yearned for a brief respite.

  Snoring softly in the small bunk positioned in the corner of the cabin, Mama rested comfortably, after casting up her accounts for most of the night. In silence, Rose tiptoed out the door. In the passageway, she walked to the next cabin, pushed open the portal, and checked on Clinton. Like Mama, he slept, so Rose closed the oak panel.

  Beneath her feet, the ship rocked to and fro, and she rolled her shoulders and fanned herself, as she strolled to the companion ladder. Several sailors acknowledged her with a dip of the chin, and she responded in kind, because they treated her with respect. When she climbed to the upper deck, she inhaled a deep breath of fresh air and sighed.

  Shielding her eyes, she surveyed the immediate area and noticed the captain standing at the rail. For a moment, she considered returning to her cabin, but something inside her compelled her to approach him. As she neared, he smiled, and she did the same.

  “Good morning, Rose.” His rich voice covered her like honey on a hot scone, and she decided she could study his blue eyes and thick lashes for a fortnight, and still it would not be enough. “I wondered when you would venture forth. How are your mother and your brother?”

  “Your surgeon treats them every day, and they improve, steadily.” Resting her arms on the rail, she admired the seascape. “It is so beautiful here. If I had a ship, I would never go ashore.”

  “You favor the life?” Turner scooted close, and his elbow just touched hers, which she suspected he did on purpose, because he seemed intent on startling her, so she resolved to maintain an air of indifference. “Did you often travel with your father?”

  “To be honest, this was my first voyage.” Beneath the surface of the water, she notice
d a shadow, and she imagined all manner of life. “But I often watched the ships from the window of my bedchamber, at home. Our house sits on a bluff overlooking the ocean, and I often fancied myself on one of those graceful vessels, journeying to some exotic place. However, until my father arranged the trip to Alicante, I had never left Charles Town, and I was so excited when we cast off.”

  “I take it you are not cursed with the sickness, as Thwaites tells me you had no trouble, and you helped him treat your family.” The breeze caught his long, dark brown hair, and she wondered how it would feel to run her fingers through his thick locks. “If you prefer, I might be able to empty another cabin, so you can rest.”

  “How thoughtful of you, but that is not necessary, because I cannot leave my mother alone.” With a finger, he grazed her arm, and she ignored her fast-rising gooseflesh and focused on some sort of bird, as it darted across the sky. “She is fragile, in the aftermath of my father and my elder brother’s demise. And Clinton remains weak. I fear the sickness may cause him a relapse, and he barely survived the last bout of the fever.”

  “Thwaites is a decent surgeon, and he has worked for me for a long time, so I do not think you should worry.” A large wave rocked the boat, and she stumbled, but Turner caught her about the waist and anchored her against his strong frame. “And Clinton has plenty of fight in him. I do not believe he likes me.”

  “It is because he does not feel good.” At Turner’s expression of skepticism, she laughed and tried but failed to loosen his hold. “Well, it could be that he does not trust you, but I would not take it personally, and I told Clinton he is wrong about you.”

  “I would say he is wise beyond his years.” In that moment, Turner released her, and she resisted the urge to retreat. “And you would do well to follow his example.”

  “Regardless of your warning, which I regard in jest, I do not fear you.” When he arched a brow and narrowed his stare, she again smiled. “You had every opportunity to harm me, if that was your intent, in the bar at Port Royal. Instead, you helped me, when you had no cause, as I possess nothing you could possibly want.”

  “Are you that sure of yourself?” He leaned against the rail and folded his arms.

  “No, Turner.” She lifted her chin and held his gaze. “I am that sure of you.”

  For a few minutes, he simply stood there, and then he gave his attention to the horizon. Given his distraction, she studied his chiseled cheekbones, firm jaw, and broad shoulders, and he struck her as some tragic hero in a Shakespearean play.

  “No one has ever believed in me, with reason.” His frown touched her all the way to her toes, and she found herself attempting to comfort him, though she knew not why, as she covered his hand with hers. “You should steer clear of me, Rose. I am not a good man.”

  “Of course, you are, else you would have left me to fend for myself.” She twined her fingers in his. “And you will never convince me otherwise, so do not waste your time.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that I extended my support because I want you?” He tightened his grip, and she bit her bottom lip, as she pondered his statement. No one had ever professed as much, and she knew not how to respond. “Because I am attracted to you? Have you any experience with men?” With his thumb, he caressed her skin, and countless sensations spread through her. “How old are you, sweet lady?”

  “I am eight and ten, on the shelf by most standards.” Swallowing hard, she reflected on the clumsy fumbling with Harold Mortimer, when he tried to kiss her, behind the horse barn, last summer. “And I am not sure what you reference, insofar as my experience with men, because I am a well-bred lady of character, and I would never shame my family and discredit our name. What do you take me for, Captain?”

  “Ah, I offended you, and we are back to titles.” He chuckled, and she wrenched free. “I apologize, Rose. I just wondered what you knew of men, because you insist you know me, and I would offer a word of advice.”

  “That is—what?” Not that she was interested.

  “If our positions were different, I would like to know you.” The prospect inspired so many possibilities, as he bent, propped his elbows on the rail, and rubbed his chin. “I think it would be quite something to know you.”

  “What is stopping you?” She imitated his stance. “We have weeks until we arrive in Charles Town. And I should like, very much, to know you, with your permission.”

  “Careful, because you know not what I reference.” His tone conveyed the hint of a questionable motive, but that did not deter her. “But make no mistake, as I desire you.”

  “I am not sure how to feel about that.” In truth, she found the revelation exhilarating, and her heart hammered in her chest, as no man had ever declared as much. Perhaps Mama was right. A sea captain demanded respect in social circles, and both Tyler and Donat held positions of esteem, in Charles Town and Alicante, respectively. Given Rose had to marry, it would be better to wed a man of her choosing, someone whose occupation provided the chance to travel the world. “Will you tell me of your history, Turner? From where do you hail?”

  “I come from a long line of mariners, called Britannians, ascended from a bastard son of Henry V, named Constantine Le Brecque. For years, my family has sailed the seas, with a band of outcasts, the rejected, hacking out a living, in order to survive.” He pointed at a bird, which danced amid the clouds. “We may not be the most honest of men, but we do not take money and cheat helpless women and children.” He met her stare, and she could not mistake his reference. “No matter what, I will deliver you to Charles Town, as promised.”

  “I do not doubt you for an instant.” Fascinated by his story, she bounced on her heels. “Please, tell me more. Since you asked me, how old are you?”

  “I am nine and twenty.” The answer shocked her, as the age seemed ancient, but he looked young and fit. “And I was born in Perranporth, in Cornwall.”

  “How remarkable, as I have always wanted to see England.” Indeed, she envisioned all manner of wondrous adventures in the motherland, about which she had only read. “Have you toured London?”

  “Once, as a boy.” Sadness marred his handsome features, and she regretted posing the question. “After my parents died, leaving me orphaned and penniless, I worked the streets, in the city, to make money.”

  “So you have no kin?” She could not begin to fathom his situation. “You are alone in the world?”

  “I would not say that.” He turned and surveyed the crew, as they completed odd tasks. “My shipmates are my family, as I am theirs.”

  “And do you have a home?” As she pealed back one layer, she discovered another, and never had she found anyone so interesting. “Where do you live when you are not at sea?”

  “I have a home in Port Royal.” He shrugged. “It is not much, but it is comfortable, and it has a view of the ocean, so I am never far from the sea. In fact—”

  “Cap’n, I am sorry to interrupt, but we have a problem.” Eastman, the kind man who welcomed Rose when she first arrived at the Malevolent, shuffled his feet and averted his stare. “Several hogsheads sprang a leak, and we need to find fresh water.”

  “What about the cove, on that small island?” Rose shielded her eyes with her hand. “The one with the ship?”

  “What ship?” Turner came alert and snapped his fingers. “Tolly, fetch the bring-em-closer.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” The younger sailor darted across the deck and then returned with the item. “Here, sir.”

  “It is there, to the left, Captain.” She pointed, as he peered through the spyglass. “Do you see it?”

  “I do, now.” He lowered the spyglass and glanced at her. “Damn, you have good eyes.”

  Chapter Three

  The wreck appeared abandoned, as Turner surveyed the immediate area. Torn canvas fluttered in the wind, and the vessel listed hard a-larboard, but no one welcomed the Malevolent, and he lowered the bring-em-closer.

  “Cut out the sails. Helmsman, ease off a p’int to s
tarboard.” He scanned the beach but found nothing of significance. “Allen, the lead.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” The quartermaster dipped his chin.

  “What is it?” Rose inquired in a soft voice. “Do you believe someone is marooned?”

  “I am not sure, but I will take no chances.” And he would not risk his most valuable cargo, as she perched beside him. “You should go below.”

  “Why?” Of course, he should have known she would not cooperate. “Do you anticipate trouble?”

  “If we get into action, I would not have you injured.” Since she did not respond to polite requests, he decided not to temper his concerns. “You could be targeted and killed.”

  “What of those boats beneath the water’s surface?” She pointed in the opposite direction. “Do you think they are from the same ship?”

  Narrowing his gaze, he could not spy what she indicated, so he deployed the bring-em-closer. There, amid the rolling waves, he noted the submerged remains of three long boats, as well as a telltale glimmer that set his heart pounding.

  “Rose, as captain of the Malevolent, I command you to return to your cabin, and lock the door. Do not open it to anyone except me.” At her expression of fear, Turner wrapped an arm about her waist, pulled her close, tipped her chin, and brushed his lips to hers. That ought to distract her, as her cheeks shaded red. “It is all right. I will let no one harm you, but you have a way of distracting me, and right now I must do my duty. Do you understand?”

  “You kissed me.” She opened her mouth and closed it, and he laughed. “I have never been kissed. That is to say, not truly kissed.”

  “Rose, I promise to do so, again, if you will obey me, and do as I ask.” He led her to the companion ladder. “Go, and I will come for you when it is safe.”

  “Have I your word?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, not about the kiss. Not that I did not enjoy the kiss. Only, I am not supposed to engage in such behavior, not that I am offended. But you will fetch me?”