Hampton chuckled at the other man’s dismay. “I am sure you are, my pet.” Lazily he encircled her arm with his thumb and middle finger and lightly ran the circle down her arm to her wrist, then slowly back up. A shock seemed to run up her arm and she jerked it away, glared at both men, and stormed back to her cabin. Hampton’s eyes followed her retreating figure. Then he straightened and looked at the older man. “Well, then, have you decided to stay?”
“If you insist on imprisoning that girl, yes.”
“Excellent! You are most welcome. However, a word of advice: she is right, you know. She doesn’t need a champion; she fights quite well for herself. I don’t think she will particularly welcome any interference from you on her behalf. And I can guarantee that I will not welcome it at all. Now, if you will excuse me.” He nodded and turned on his heel, leaving the doctor staring after him dumbfounded.
After the Susan Harper had pulled away from the other ship and Hampton had satisfied himself that everything was in proper order, he retired to his cabin to freshen up before dinner. Katherine, from his entrance through to the end of the meal, maintained a deathly silence. Hampton, after a few attempts at speech, gave up the effort and said nothing more until he had finished his meal and made his log entry for the day.
Then he turned to her and said, “Well, my dear, are we to have another battle royal tonight?”
“No,” Katherine said coldly. “My revulsion for you obviously matters not at all to you. You are much stronger than I, and I have no hope of anything but being vanquished every time. No one is hurt but me. Therefore, I no longer plan to resist you.”
“Good girl,” he said, buoyed by his victory. “You are beginning to show some sense.” He paused. “Katherine, forgive me for mistreating you last night. I have a damnable temper. But it’s easily pacified; if you had but turned your charm on me a little, you could have easily cooled my wrath.”
“Oh, Cap’n Hampton, you are such a mahvelous, big, strong man—please don’t hurt little ole me,” Katherine mocked, simpering. “I am not the sort to wheedle and cajole and debase myself to such as you in order to make you act like a human being.”
“You learned your history, ma’am, but I think you must have failed your lessons in femininity,” he said smoothly.
“Oh, is it unfeminine to try to preserve my honor from a madman?” she asked innocently.
“Damn it, woman, you are mine, and you will obey me. I am a man, and a man rules a woman. I rule you.”
“No man rules me, unless I give him permission.”
“Indeed? Did you give me permission to use you as I did last night?”
“You filthy monster!”
“Apparently the men of your acquaintance have been mice who never stood up to you. But I am a different sort. You will do as I tell you.”
“Yes,” Katherine hissed furiously, her eyes narrow with anger. She reminded him of a jungle cat, and some primitive instinct surged in him, a desire to tame her, conquer her so completely that she would ask to submit to him. “Yes, I will do as you tell me. Whatever you say, I will do, because you can force me to do it. Physically, I am your slave, as you well know. But mentally I shall never give in to you. I won’t fight you, but I will not respond to you. I will never be yielding, never soft, never passionate. You’ll find me a cold and passive bed partner.”
“That I can well believe,” he snapped, “for you are a veritable snow queen now. God, woman, do you think I would bother with you if there were a real woman around? I had as soon make love to an iceberg! But since you are the only female available, I must make do with you.”
“I despise you. Remember every time you touch me that I loathe you, that your touch makes my flesh creep,” she rasped at him. “In my mind I will be defying you, resisting you, hating you. Though I obey your every order, we will both know it is only because your brute strength is greater than mine.”
He smashed his hand down on the table. “You are a selfish, spoiled little bitch. All your life everyone has jumped at your command, from your spineless father down to the lowest servant. You are imbued with your own superiority—cold, haughty, and self-righteous. No doubt you would have led your poor Yankee lieutenant a merry dance. But you’ll not do the same with me. For I intend to master you, dear girl. I am going to gentle you to my hand. I shall treat you as you should have been treated long ago. Do you understand me!”
“Pig!”
He stepped back, panting with anger. He stood for a moment, regaining cold, hard control. Then he sat down in a chair and lounged back against his desk, as Katherine continued to stand, glaring at him. His voice was calm when he spoke. “Undress.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I won’t.”
“I thought you vowed to obey my every command.”
She stared at him unmoving. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am perfectly serious and growing impatient. Must I remind you that you are completely in my power, that if you disobey me, I am capable of taking my whip to you?”
Her face paled and he smiled evilly. “Yes, my dear, don’t forget that I am a wicked slaveowner and well versed in such things. Or perhaps you would like for me to call in a few of my men to help you undress.”
With trembling fingers, she began to unbutton her dress, but she said through stiff lips, “You son of a bitch.”
“What do my mother’s morals have to do with anything?”
“Bastard.” She slipped out of her dress, then paused,
“Continue. Would you like for me to teach you new curse words, my dear? I may grow weary of having the same ones hurled at me all the time.” His voice was soft and dangerous.
Katherine stepped out of her shoes, then removed her hoop and her petticoats one by one, until she stood clad only in her chemise. She stopped and glanced at him uncertainly, but he said nothing, just kept his obsidian gaze on her. She swallowed hard, trying to force back the acrid fear that rose in her throat. Never had he seemed so hard, so cold, so cruel. Summoning up her courage, she tugged off her pantalets and then stockings, under cover of the thin petticoat. Then in one swift movement, she tore off her chemise and stood before him. Desperately she tried to conceal herself with her hands, blushing furiously, and averted her head to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Take your hands away,” his voice cracked out. “Why be so ashamed of your body? I see no deformity.”
She forced herself to drop her hands to her sides and with a great effort of will raised her head to stare back at him defiantly. He inspected her from head to toe, his insolent eyes taking in every detail. He lit a cigar to hide the trembling of his hands. Desire flooded through him but he forced his voice to be casual.
“Now come here.”
Seething, she obeyed him. When she stood by his chair, he tilted his face up to look at her and said, “Now, undress me.”
She looked as though someone had thrown freezing water in her face. “You can’t—I, I don’t know how!”
“Discover.”
Katherine looked at him helplessly, gulped, then knelt and removed his boots. She stood up again, but he did not speak or move to help her. Gingerly she leaned down and unbuttoned his shirt. He felt dizzy with the scent of her and the closeness of her bare breasts, swaying with her movements. Carefully she slid his shirt off one shoulder and arm and then the other, then flung it furiously on the table.
He watched her without moving and finally she said, “You will have to stand up.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Dammit, I’ll not beg you. If you want those trousers off, you’ll have to stand.”
Laughing, he rose. Tentatively she reached out, then snatched her hands back, then forced them back to his waistband. Accidentally she brushed his stomach and the lean stomach muscles jumped involuntarily. Her hand recoiled as if bitten by a snake, but he grabbed her hand and replaced it. His stomach was warm, the skin strangely soft to her touch, fuzzy with hair.
Her hands shook violently as she unbuttoned his trousers, very conscious of the male bulge beneath her fingers and what it meant. She pulled them to the floor and off his feet, then stood, eyes downcast, hands clasped tightly behind her back.
“You haven’t finished.”
“I can’t.”
“You will.”
Desperately she glanced at the drawstring of his underwear, then reached out and quickly untied it. But his close-fitting long knit underwear did not fall to his ankles, and she had to pull them down, which forced her to look at his naked legs and hips close up, even touch them. Nor could she avoid the sight of his swollen manhood.
“Get into bed,” he told her and she scurried toward it as if to a refuge.
He followed and crawled in beside her. Almost carelessly he began to stroke her body, running his hands all over her breasts and stomach and legs. Turning her over onto her stomach, he caressed her back and lingered over her buttocks, then stroked the backs of her legs, even reaching down to run a finger up the soles of her feet. Again he returned to her buttocks, squeezing, soothing, brushing with his fingertips. As he continued to caress her with his hands, she felt his lips begin to roam her back. His body slid lower along her, and she jumped with shock when he nipped gently at her buttocks.
“What are you doing to me?”
He laughed a low, soft laugh. “Oh, wicked things, my love; things quite frowned upon in Boston.” He kissed her hips, her thighs.
“Please—no!”
“I plan to kiss you many places, my love,” he said thickly. “Look, I even kiss your dainty feet.”
“Matt—Captain Hampton!”
“Go ahead. Say my name. Say Matthew.” He hovered over her, his face buried in her hair. “I want to hear you say it,” he breathed into her ear. “Say it softly, caressingly, bitterly, loudly, reprovingly. I don’t care. I just want to hear it in your mouth. I want your teeth and tongue and lips to form it. ‘Matthew.’ ‘Matt.’” He shoved her hair aside to nibble at her ear and his body moved against hers. “To please me. Say it just once.”
“Captain Hampton,” she flared.
“Damn you, Katherine. See how I will say your name. Katherine. Kate. Kathy.” His lips roamed her cheek, twisting her around to kiss her deeply. “Katherine. I won’t stop until you answer me. Katherine. Lovely, infuriating. Beautiful. My Kathy.” He let her return to her back, all the while kissing her, murmuring her name.
She steeled herself against his hands and mouth and words. Once she had felt sorry for herself that she had never heard her name spoken ardently; now she felt close to melting at the sound. How could he be so changeable, so humiliating, so enflaming? It was torture to hold herself still, to keep from saying his name. As he entered her, she realized with horror that even though he purposefully humiliated her, she delighted in his possession of her. She wanted to move with him, against him, anything but remain cold, immobile, and silent. As soon as he withdrew, she rolled away from him to huddle against the wall.
“Get back here,” he said roughly, pulling her into his arms. “I’m not through with you.” Tenderly, softly he kissed her hair and face and mouth, then settled his head on her breast and immediately fell asleep.
Cautiously she touched his face, lightly running her fingers along his cheekbone and jaw. “Matthew,” she whispered into the dark silence.
Chapter 9
A loud knocking at the door awakened them both. “Captain! Yank ship south-southwest. Looks like Navy.”
Hampton was immediately alert. He left the bed and quickly threw on his clothes. Katherine sat up sleepily, fighting the fog in her mind.
“What’s going on?” she asked, yawning.
“It may be that your saviors have arrived,” he said shortly, pulling on his boots.
“The Navy?”
“Perhaps.”
“But what will you do?”
“Hope they have not crossed the path of the ship I let go yesterday. If they haven’t, we may be able to bluff our way through as the Susan Harper. But if they have encountered the crew of the Susan Harper on that merchant ship, they’ll know we aren’t and we’ll have to run or fight. If it’s a sailing ship, we can probably outrun them. If steam, we probably cannot. And they are bound to be better armed than we. Our only hope in a battle is that their captain is incompetent.” He paused and looked at her shrewdly. “Do you know much about the Navy? Names of ships, their captains, that sort of thing?”
She shrugged. “A fair amount about the ones we built. And of course Teddy told me about the Navy constantly.”
“Good. Then get dressed and come up on deck. Perhaps you can identify our friend.”
“What makes you think I would tell you anything if I recognize it?”
“Because you know I’d break every bone in your body if you deceived me,” he said pleasantly and turned toward the door.
She picked up the closest thing at hand, which happened to be a pillow, and threw it after him. It bounced harmlessly off the door as it swung to behind him. She slipped out of bed and dressed hurriedly, her curiosity about the ship overcoming her desire to defy his commands.
When she came on deck, she found Hampton gazing through his telescope at what was little more than a speck on the horizon. He turned to her and smiled.
“It seems that we cannot use your expertise yet.”
“How could they tell it was a military ship?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I think Peljo smells them out. I certainly can’t see her well enough. But Peljo’s seldom wrong, so I must presume it is Navy. I have ordered full sail; perhaps we’ll outdistance her before she suspects us. Or keep in front of her until nightfall when maybe we could lose her.”
Katherine stayed on deck for a while, but soon hunger lured her down to the cabin to eat. Afterward she read for a while, though her thoughts constantly intruded. She ran over and over how he had humiliated her, degraded her for the past two nights. And just because she had dared to stand up to him. No doubt he expected her to throw herself at his feet, as countless other women probably had. Piqued because she did not, he had decided to abuse her. He used her as if she were a thing, an inanimate object, almost as if she didn’t exist. She pressed her fist against her trembling lips to hold back her tears. Wasn’t it enough that he impose himself on her physically? Why did he have to hurt her mentally and emotionally, too?
Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a polite rapping at the door. Katherine swallowed her tears and went to answer it. Dr. Rackingham stood outside; he had come to begin the chess games they had promised each other. He was a good player and, though she played rather distractedly at first, she soon settled down to her usual form, and they passed the morning quite enjoyably. She asked him to join her for lunch and he accepted. The meal was pleasant and they found themselves talking and laughing companionably. When Hampton arrived to eat his lunch, he found them at the end of their meal, chuckling over some story of the doctor’s. The captain bowed politely.
“Excuse me, my dear. I did not know you were entertaining.”
“Dr. Rackingham kindly stopped by to relieve my boredom,” she said airily. “He and I have been playing chess all morning.”
“Ah, then you have spent a more pleasant morning than I.”
“Do you play, Captain Hampton?” Rackingham inquired.
“Sometimes.”
“Perhaps we could have a game ourselves some evening.”
“I would enjoy that, Doctor.”
“Though Miss Devereaux plays so well, you will probably find me a poor substitute.”
“Yes, Miss Devereaux is indeed a worthy opponent,” he said, shooting her a mischievous glance.
Mason entered with Hampton’s food, and the doctor excused himself to return to his quarters for his daily nap.
After he left, Hampton said, “You seem to have made a new conquest. Be careful or you’ll make me jealous.”
Sh
e looked at him, startled, and saw that his eyes were twinkling. “Must you always be making fun of me?” she said coldly.
He smiled. “If Dr. Rackingham were not at least sixty years old, I would probably be deadly serious.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean.”
“Only that I am very possessive, and I want no other man sharing your favors.”
“Well, since I was obviously happy and enjoying myself, you can be assured that he did not do the sort of things you do to me.”
He winced exaggeratedly. “A direct hit, Miss Devereaux.” He ate in silence for a moment. “She’s gotten close enough for me to make her out. Peljo’s right—she’s military.”
“What kind of ship?”
“Sail. Very sleek, built for speed. Faster than we are and sailing full speed ahead. Several years old, I think.” He went on to describe in detail the sails, masts, body design, and equipment.
Katherine listened interestedly, building a picture of it in her mind. “If it’s out of Boston, I know of only three like that, the Pandora, the Susquetack, and the Dorsey.”
“Do you know their captains?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know who commands the Dorsey. The Pandora’s captain is a New Yorker, I forget his name—something Dutch. I don’t know anything about him. But that’s the best ship; we built her ten years ago—she’s solid and fast.”
“What about the Susquetack?”
“I know her captain—Harold Camberton. He’s professional Navy. Lieutenant Perkins thinks highly of him.”
His gray eyes turned icy. “And am I to trust Lieutenant Perkins’s judgment?”
“It matters not at all to me whether you do or not. Whatever you may think of him personally, no matter how stupid you may think he is to want to marry me, he is a very good sailor and he knows ships. I think he’s a fairly good judge of men also.”
“Then what does Lieutenant Perkins say about him?”
“That he’s strong, solid, steady, tenacious, respected by his men. He’s not flamboyant. He’s conservative in battle, but not prone to making mistakes. Slow, but persistent. He doesn’t dazzle, but he’s tough.”
Gregory, Lisa Page 17
