And then there was no softness, only blood in a thin line that trailed over bronze skin. There was low laughter and a fine gold earring glinting in the light of a single lantern.
~ ~ ~
India sat up with a ragged cry, sleep still clutching at her.
A dream. But why did it feel like so much more?
She tugged the blanket to her chest as if it could hold back her pain and her memories.
~ ~ ~
“So, Perkins, what business have we so far today?” The captain of the Gypsy stood on the foredeck, letting wind rake his hair as he studied the restless track of the river stretching to the sea. Today the same kind of restlessness flashed in the Frenchman’s eyes.
Perched on a coil of rope, the first mate scratched wind-hardened cheeks and frowned. “Someone to see you about a set of diamonds. Fabulous, he swears. Someone else who says he can show you a secret passage through the Tower to the Crown Jewels. For a price, of course. An offer to buy that white horse from you.” The man’s lips twitched. “And three offers to buy the boy what rode in on the great beast.”
“Buy? Perkins, you astound me.”
“I bloody doubt it, Captain. Beggin’ yer pardon.”
“And who were these, er, buyers?”
“The usual river scum, along with a man from a bordello up by Whitechapel.”
The captain laughed bitterly. “We are now a thorough nest of vice, to be sure. And how much did they offer for the boy?”
“The highest was two hundred pounds for the horse and twenty pounds for the boy. For work in the bordello, that is.” Perkins’s eyes narrowed. “As if you’d consider selling the lad.”
“No? I am a man of vile reputation, Perkins.”
The first mate snorted.
“You are in a black mood today.”
“Not as black as I outta be. Since when are we taking in captives aboard the Gypsy — especially boys what ain’t boys?”
The Frenchman’s brow rose and he scratched thoughtfully at his heavy black beard. “Is there a point to your question, I ask myself?”
“What are we doing with a female below deck? Is that clear enough for you?”
“Doucement,” the captain said quickly, looking about to be sure they were alone.
“Well, I’m tired of douce this and patience that. I keep things quiet here while you go running off to London and God knows where else, and for what, I’m asking? You’ve found three sets of diamonds already, and another two of emeralds. But that isn’t what you want, is it? So what are we doing here, pitching at anchor when we could be hauling fine burgundy over the Channel or horses from Galway Bay?”
The Frenchman’s face went very hard. “No questions, my friend. It was our agreement when the voyage began, and it must remain a condition still.”
“Oh, I ain’t asking outright, Captain. You’ll tell me when the time’s right. But I can’t be patient forever. Meanwhile, I don’t hold with no females on board. Bad luck and trouble will come from it, mark my words.”
“Trouble. This one, she will be that, of a certainty.” The pirate raised the knife he’d taken from his captive and studied its honed blade. “But she stays awhile longer, my friend. Bad luck or no.”
Perkins scrubbed at the deck with his toe. “What do I tell them that’s waiting to see you?”
“No to the emeralds. No to the Crown Jewels in the Tower. And no to the first two offers to buy my cocky red-haired boy. Who will remain a boy,” he said warningly to Perkins.
“Aye, Cap’n. It’s your game. But what about that last rogue? Him that’s from the bordello?”
The Frenchman’s eyes hardened. “Tell our friend from Whitechapel that if he ever shows his face along this stretch of the river again, I will personally see to it that his filthy ears are shaved from his equally filthy head. I will see the fellow about these so-called fabulous diamonds in ten minutes.”
Perkins chuckled. “Any other orders?”
“Just one, enfin. The door to my cabin stays locked, no matter what. Do you understand me?”
“Aye. But there’s trouble to come,” the wiry sailor said darkly. “You’ll see. As sure as there’s a wind from the east and fog before nightfall.”
~ ~ ~
India was lying in wait for the captain an hour later, with the last drawer from the chest clutched in her fist.
When the door bolt hissed free, she aimed for where the captain’s head would be.
And barely had time to catch herself as Froggett appeared in the doorway.
“Whatever are you doing now, Mis—” The old man cleared his throat. “Er, Jeremiah.” He was shoved into the cabin and the door bolted behind him.
“I was trying to escape! Have they hurt you, Froggett?”
The groom studied the broken glass on the floor and the unmade bed. “No, I was treated well enough. So was that white horse of yours. But what in thunder’s been going on here? Did that Frenchman—”
“No,” India said quickly. “Not that he didn’t want to. And not that he won’t try again,” she said darkly. “The arrogant snake knows I’m a woman, Froggett. And somehow he knows I’m a Delamere. We must escape.”
“What about your great plan to get information from the Frenchman? Told you how it would be, didn’t I? Deviltry and mayhem, and us left prisoners in the middle of the bleeding river with no one to know we’re even gone.”
India sighed. “You were right, Froggett, I admit it.”
“That Frenchman’s a cunning sort, all right. Sees everything, though he acts like he doesn’t. And there’s a bad lot of people coming in and out here.” Froggett looked at India, who was rubbing her sore hip. “What’s amiss?”
“It’s nothing. I hurt my side when I fell on a piece of glass.”
“Don’t know who’s more dangerous — you or that pirate,” the groom muttered.
“Stop being so gloomy and help me think how we can get away from here.”
“Reckon you’ll have to use that stone you’ve got hidden in your boot.”
“I was thinking the same thing. A pity to waste it.”
“A bigger pity not to waste it,” the groom said darkly. “I don’t care to stay here and rot. Or worse.”
“I suppose you’re right. But he mustn’t know it is here, or he will never let us go. I’ll say that I hid it ashore. He will have to send me to find it, and I’ll insist that you come. Then we will make our escape.”
The old groom looked skyward. “Heaven help us both, if that’s your plan.”
“Do you have something better in mind?”
Froggett scowled.
“I thought not. So we may as well get it over with.” India strode to the door and banged loudly. “You, out there! Fetch the captain and look lively about it!”
~ ~ ~
“It’s the boy, Captain.” Perkins moved closer to the Frenchman, who was climbing down from the rigging. “The boy what ain’t a boy,” he muttered.
“What does he want now, a bath and a hot meal? Or maybe a presentation at court?”
“He wants you.”
The Frenchman smiled faintly. “One can only wish, Perkins.” He shouted an order to one of his crew, wincing as he dropped back onto the deck.
“You’ve hurt your shoulder again.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Like hell, it is.”
The Frenchman scowled at his first mate. “What does my captive want me for?”
“He didn’t happen to confide in me. But before you go, you’d better speak to that man called Frasier from London. He said he was from a jeweler called Parrish Brothers and has some important information. Something about diamonds,” the mate added.
“Show him aboard,” the captain said tightly.
~ ~ ~
The interview was conducted between two coils of rope and a mass of torn canvas sail. The Frenchman didn’t trust his visitor, a swarthy man with more teeth than hair, who seemed more interested in the Gypsy than in his discussion.
“What about these diamonds you mention?”
The Londoner pulled a knife from his boot and toyed with its silver hilt. “I heard you’re looking for good stones. Very special stones.”
“I might be.”
“Then I’ve got what you want. Diamonds you’ve never seen the like of before.”
The Frenchman’s eyes narrowed. “When can I see them?”
A shrug. “Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. It’s a matter of some … delicacy.”
“Delicacy be damned. Do you have jewels to sell or don’t you?”
“No call to get angry. I’m here, ain’t I? You’ll get word when they’re ready to show. But it’s solid sterling at time of sale.” His eyes hardened. “And no questions asked, understand?”
“You’ll find I pay better than anyone. And I’m not overly concerned with who the stones’ last owner was.”
“In that case, it will be a pleasure doing business with you.” Frasier stood up and resheathed his knife in his boot. “I’ll send word when it’s time to meet.”
“I am a busy man. How will I know when to expect you.”
His visitor smiled thinly. “You won’t. Meanwhile, it sounds like you need help controlling your crew, Captain.”
The Frenchman frowned, hearing muffled shouts from the other side of the deck. When he looked up, half of the Gypsy’s crew was huddled by the companionway.
“Or maybe it’s some of your human cargo you’re having trouble with.” The visitor’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that slender fellow with red hair who rode in on a finer horse than this sorry stretch of river has ever seen before.”
“Make your point.”
“My point? That a young gentleman of that description was recently seen in London, trying to sell one of the finest pink diamonds in the world. Curious, don’t you think?”
The Frenchman leaned back against the deck railing. “Curiosity, my friend, is what killed your English cat, n’est-ce pas? It might be better to remember that.”
As the shouts grew louder, Frasier pushed to his feet. “Just don’t get yourself taken up by the magistrate for murder.” His lips curved. “Or unnatural acts.”
The Frenchman scowled as he watched Frasier walk cockily from the ship. Something about the man irritated him, but if the offer was genuine, it could be of extraordinary importance. He would have to lay his plans carefully.
But first, he had a shouting, intractable Englishwoman to deal with.
When the captain strode across the deck toward his cabin, his crew scattered hastily. “What the devil’s going on here?” he growled.
“It’s the boy, Captain,” someone said helpfully. “Going to beat him some more, are you?”
The Frenchman’s scowl grew blacker. “About your business!”
“Aye, Captain.”
Outside his cabin door the shouts were ear-splitting.
The captain flung open the door. “Cease your howling!”
“It’s about time you came!”
The captain ignored her. He looked at Froggett and motioned curtly. “Out.”
“Now, just you listen here—”
“Do not tax my patience, old man,” the Frenchman snapped.
“Go on, Froggett. I’m not afraid of this snake.”
The old groom glared at the two grinning crewmen waiting to escort him back to the deck. “You sure, er, Jeremiah?”
“I’m sure.”
The old man was pulled away. The captain waited until the door was bolted and advanced toward his captive.
“Stay back.” India hefted a drawer from the chest.
“I don’t believe I will, ma mie.” The captain ducked as the drawer hurtled past his shoulder and hit the wall. His best powder horn and a dozen iron pistol balls went flying all over the floor.
His captive stumbled on the scattered balls and was thrown back against the bed. “S-Stay away. I’ll start screaming again otherwise. And then I’ll break your neck.”
The Frenchman was right behind her. His fingers feathered gently over her neck. “You’ve hurt yourself, little fool.”
“I’m fine,” India said tightly.
Hard fingers eased over her bruised skin. Then his lips slid over her ear.
India swallowed, feeling a curious heat unravel through her legs and inch upward. She tried to shove free of him, as her throat went hot and dry. “Stop doing that.”
He found the pulse that beat at her neck and palmed the skin gently. “Is it because you fear me?”
“No,” India lied. “I-I simply do not care to be mauled about, with a tongue thrust between my lips and, oh, cold fingers poking everywhere.”
“Who has done this?” The voice came sharp and angry as a gunshot.
“A great many, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I cannot remember.”
“You let these imbéciles with hands like hooves take such freedoms?”
“I was merely curious. There are things I wanted to know,” India said irritably. “What business is it of yours?”
“What did you want to know?”
“What it felt like — that is, whether I would know if—” She broke off, unable to frame such thoughts in words. “Oh, you are only a pirate. How could you understand?”
“Perhaps I do,” came the rough answer. “Perhaps I understand more than you know.” His hands slid into her hair. “You want to know if you can feel the heat of a man, non? And whether you can make him feel that same heat.”
“Rubbish,” India said sharply. But she stood still just the same. The heat had begun to skitter up to her knees and showed definite signs of making its way even higher. “It is simply that moving around as we did, with my father always on the scent of some treasure or new discovery, I never had a chance to — that is, I never got to know if—”
“If you are a woman desirable, yes? If the sight of your lips can make a man’s legs go weak with wanting you? If the touch of your lovely breasts could send heat to his groin?”
“No! I never said—”
But the quest had gone too far. His fingers were deep in her hair and she was molded against his unrelenting body. “Shall I answer you now, ma belle? Shall I tell you that you can find your own answer here?” he said hoarsely.
A thousand questions plagued India, questions that she had never had time to explore with Devlyn before he’d gone off to Waterloo. It was madness, but her curiosity was stirred. Yet to discus such things was horribly wrong.
She stiffened. “Release me.”
“You wish for answers, non?”
“Not from you.”
“You feel the desire. Your blood already sings for my touch.”
“No!”
“You can find your answers. Kiss me and read them on my lips.”
India could not move, mesmerized by the heat of his eyes, the hoarse urgency in his voice. She tasted desire, hot and sweet.
For a stranger. For a pirate.
It made no sense. In fact the desire shamed her.
She tried to pull away, but he laughed darkly and tugged her against him, while the candle glinted on his golden earring. Angry, she struck out, her fingers trembling.
But they met only hot skin.
“No,” she cried, even as desire crept through her blood. “Not for you.”
“For another man then?”
“Yes, and he is a perfect gentleman. Usually. Sometimes at least.”
His laughter echoed. His callused hand slid around her hips and locked them together, hardness to heat, male to female.
His fingers massaged the tensed muscles at her spine and India shivered in spite of herself, knotted muscles turning soft at his knowing ministrations. How many woman had he touched to know such dark skill?
“And what of these other imbéciles with hands like hooves. Do you stop them? Do you cry your pleasure sounds for them, when they touch you just so?” His hand slid lower, molded to the swell of her hips.
“No,” she rasped.
“M
e, I do not understand. No, you do not stop them or no, you do not cry out with pleasure for your English lovers?”
“Neither, you pig. You abject, depraved, infuriating goat carcass.”
Soft laughter teased her skin, heated air playing through her hair. “How glad I am to hear it, sauvage. For it must be only for me, comprends-tu? Only us together like this, one dawn to the next.”
“You are mad! When my father and brothers find what you’ve done, they’ll murder you. But first they’ll tie you up and strip away your skin, the way the dacoits do in India. Then they’ll take hot coals and—”
She was stopped by the pressure of his hard body, squarely atop her, driving her down onto the bed. He clicked his tongue softly. “Your tongue is like a whip. You must scare away many men this way, non?”
His barb hit her with shocking force, because it was far too true. She had always had to guard her tongue, to hide her temper and her adventurous nature. Otherwise, there was constant censure and tittering, along with the endless, draining gossip that London society seemed to thrive upon.
“So it is true, enfin.”
Damn the man, did he miss nothing? The words hurt though she had never admitted that to anyone, even to herself. “No, it’s not true, curse your villainous reptile heart!” India struggled furiously, trying to dislodge his powerful body, but it was pointless. He only gave slightly, moving with easy power.
“I think you must make up your mind. Either I am a goat carcass or I have the heart of a reptile. Even me, who is ignorant of science, knows I cannot be both, my beauty.”
India twisted wildly, but the effort only drove her into the heated length of him, where straining muscle could no longer be mistaken.
Her breath caught.
“But I have given you your answer. You read it in my body, which already rises hot and hard for you. Enfin, you are a woman in every sense desirable.”
India caught back an angry cry and wrenched one hand free, then drove it straight to his chin, where it landed with an angry crack. When he pulled away, she scrambled wildly to her feet.
“Very beautiful, you are,” he whispered. But now there was a hint of danger in the words.
Come the Dawn Page 25
