A Captain and a Rogue (Mills & Boon Historical)

by Liz Tyner

  Thessa pulled at the shirt, indicating her male clothing. ‘We had to swim to the ship and were rescued in the water. They had no extra dresses.’

  The captain turned and she saw the look he gave her. In a brief second, something from his gaze burst heat into her body. Her heartbeats tumbled into a rhythm she could feel to her fingertips. She could not look at him directly because she must continue to breathe.

  ‘I’ll need a hackney in the morning...’ Benjamin ran his fingers through his hair. ‘The women need clothing so they will be able to leave the house.’

  The servant closed his mouth, turned his view from them and gave a nod to Benjamin. ‘They’re both a head taller than Dolly and a stone lighter so they couldn’t borrow from her.’ He scratched his chin. ‘But my sister can round up some female wear soon enough. When she’s not sewing, she buys clothes sometimes and mends ’em well and sorts ’em out and sells them.’

  ‘That sounds perfect. They would be able to travel to my brother’s house and surely his wife has enough dresses now that she could share until they have their own.’

  Broomer gave a respectful nod to Thessa and Bellona. He backed to the doorway to leave, but Thessa didn’t think it was so much subservience as hero worship of Benjamin. ‘I’ll get Dolly started on helping me and it’ll only take us a whisker shake to get the pitchers filled for the washbasins. Dolly’s making the tea now. If the ladies would like, I can show them a room to settle in.’

  In moments, Broomer had shown them each to a room, but Bellona hadn’t stayed in hers. She hurried back to speak with Thessa in the red-and-gold room.

  Thessa imagined the tester bed grand enough for any goddess and she had never seen so much cloth in any one room. Even the window coverings were more elaborate than any dress she’d ever had.

  ‘Did you notice the harpoon in the corner of the grand room?’ Bellona asked.

  ‘I saw,’ Thessa said. That room had many reminders of the sea, filling her with realisation that the captain’s heart and mind stayed at sea even when he was on land.

  ‘It would make a fine weapon. If I had a weapon, then I could protect us. No man could force us to marry, or keep other men away from us just because he wants no one but himself to touch us.’ She frowned. ‘I would have liked to have seen Stephanos defeated. I thought we had escaped, but he could have taken you before I knew it. I still imagine all the things I could have awoken to find.’

  ‘We must put our other life behind us,’ Thessa said. But she knew it wouldn’t be easy for either of them. Everything she’d seen was so different than her home. She couldn’t have imagined so many people moving about. Even the water was different—without catacombs nearby and the rocks jutting from the sea.

  She’d looked through her father’s sketches once and seen drawings of houses and people who did look as if they’d spent the day playing the pianoforte. And now she was standing in a home with servants, and even though she wore men’s clothing, Broomer hadn’t looked at her as if he’d thought her beneath him. He’d treated her just as grandly as he treated the captain.

  When she looked around the room, she could see she’d left behind the world of pirates and quick death. On the ship, she’d known all along that a storm could come and take them all.

  And if this was the simple house, she could not imagine how her sister’s home must look. Nor where her father might live, but she didn’t care about him, except to let him see she was no longer a child who could be ignored and disparaged. She could toss away the seafaring garb and wear the clothing of a lady. She was not some vermin crawling in the corners of life.

  ‘This is a safe world with people who are seemly. We won’t need weapons. We must be proper. We are ladies.’ Thessa said. ‘Our sister is here. The people are different than on Melos. Look at this house. There is no straw, no barn and the carriages... So many of them...’

  *

  Benjamin sat with them during the evening meal. Thessa hadn’t been hungry. The cook hadn’t used any thyme or basil and nothing tasted familiar.

  It was a simple meal with simple conversation, yet, she knew Benjamin was just as aware of her every movement as she was his. Neither of them spoke more than a few times and not once to each other.

  Bellona did not pause for more than a few words during the entire evening, even after they’d moved to the library, asking questions of everything from the royal family to how one found a hackney cab.

  Finally, Bellona had taken herself off to her bedchamber. But Thessa couldn’t force herself to leave Benjamin’s presence.

  When Bellona left, the captain turned to Thessa. ‘I’ve always been fascinated with the way mermaids are imagined by artists and I’ve amassed as many paintings as I can. My bothers have moved the artwork out from time to time but I’ve always had them returned. I’d like to show them to you.’

  Benjamin stood and held out his arm. Thessa took it, but something of his house, and all the collections she could tell he’d amassed, made her think of her father’s ways. Her father had been driven by painting and she wasn’t certain Benjamin didn’t favour the sea just as her father favoured art.

  She walked the hallway to his room and his voice was quiet, companionable as he spoke.

  ‘The tale of women who could call up storms to sink vessels, having the power over wind, caught my attention. I suppose to an able-bodied seaman, to feel at the mercy of the seas, sometimes he might like to think it’s not merely a storm or a tempest, but something he might be able to control. If he can keep the mermaids happy, then he can continue to sail. And that an earthly being could direct winds...that lore catches a sailor’s ears.’

  She speared him with her glare. ‘Women bring less bad fortune to a ship than men. Men have been on every ship that has ever gone to the depths. Few women.’

  Ben didn’t answer, but opened the door to his chamber and let her step inside.

  He felt like a little boy who was going to show a princess his favourite toy soldiers and he stilled, watching her examine the things which had once meant so much to him.

  To stand in his room, at her side, feelings covered him as strong as an enormous wave washing over him, but, instead of feeling that he couldn’t breathe, he felt he could take in all the best parts of the world with just a gentle inhalation.

  Even in the duck trousers, her womanliness showed in the delicate line of her neck and the way the shirt pulled against her as she moved. Her hair needed about a score more of pins to hold it in place and each tendril framed her face.

  His heart pounded and he could hear the rustle of fabric when she turned to look at the walls.

  He raised his hand, letting only his fingers brush her stiff shirt, and ran his fingertips up her back, and he didn’t move elsewhere, just watched the slow upward slide of his hand until he reached her shoulder and stopped. He’d never felt he could spend years fascinated by nothing else but gazing at a woman, but with Thessa he could.

  ‘That’s rather—odd.’ He knew she’d spotted the huge painting of the mermaid barely wrapped in seaweed. His brothers had surprised him by having the picture commissioned as a jest. But he liked the painting, jest or no. He’d fallen asleep many nights in the town house, staring into the dark shape of the painting.

  The only art in the room not dealing with a sea creature was the quite plain larger one—nothing more than a rendition of the ocean’s horizon—he’d bought after seeing the painter’s work at Somerset House.

  Had he not been so captured by the sea, he might have been an artist. The life-like images they could create with a pencil and a scrap of paper fascinated him. His proof of that was the quick sketch, about five inches by eight, that Thomas Rowlandson had managed for him of a plump, leering mermaid. He’d found the artist at a gaming table and had wagered and wagered until Rowlandson lost, then asked for a drawing instead of coin. Rowlandson had thought Benjamin quite foxed, but Benjamin had carefully planned the moment.

  Thessa stepped sideways and turned to Benjam
in, but she didn’t increase the distance between them. ‘Are all captains searching for mermaids?’ she interrupted his thoughts.

  He shook his head.

  Thessa spoke. ‘You have more of a fascination with the creatures than I realised.’

  ‘I did.’ He touched her cheek.

  ‘Do you wish for me to be a mermaid?’

  ‘After I met you, I realised imaginary women aren’t quite as lovely as I thought. You surpass them all.’

  He memorised the shape of her lips, never wanting to forget them. The red bow: perfect. Taking her cheeks in his hand, he brushed a kiss against her lips and, this time, another thought jarred him. ‘The problem with mermaids is they disappear back into their world. In a flash they’re gone. Only to remain a memory.’

  ‘Much like a sea captain.’ She pulled from his hands.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘The paintings...’ She looked at them. She didn’t like even one of them. Not even the one with only the waves in it. It didn’t look like her sea. ‘Art...’

  ‘I would like to pack these away and only have a portrait of you. Will you let me introduce you to an artist tomorrow?’

  She shook her head. ‘My father has painted me before. I cannot bear the thought of posing again.’

  In front of her she could see more about the captain than he understood. Women who weren’t real stared back at her from the walls.

  One of the women had dark hair and eyes. Just like Thessa’s own. She couldn’t keep from examining it closer. She stepped to it, touching the frame and letting her fingers trail the wood. ‘I think she...almost resembles me.’

  ‘No. She looks nothing like you. Nothing.’

  ‘Can’t you see it?’ she asked. ‘The hair and eyes, both the same shade as mine.’

  ‘Brown. That’s all the closeness you share.’

  She shook her head, unable to take her eyes from the painting. She supposed it truly didn’t resemble her. The woman in the art was too perfect. Her hair too dark. Her lips too full.

  Another image of what someone wanted rather than what was true. But she wondered if that was why the captain noticed her. Because Thessa had the same look of the woman’s face, even if the features were shaped differently.

  Thessa thought back to the many paintings her father had finished. ‘I could never pose again,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be...something that isn’t real.’

  His lips pressed up, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You could never be.’

  She reached out, touching his sleeve again, unable to explain to him that he didn’t see her as she truly was, but as a part of the imagined world he’d created on the long voyages.

  ‘It wouldn’t be you, anyway.’ Benjamin shut his eyes, moving towards her, and let his temple rest against hers.

  His hands clasped her waist. Even through the bunched layers of the shirt, she could feel the firmness of his grasp. He still had the faint scent of the boat and the sea around him and she suspected it would never leave.

  ‘Captain.’

  ‘Thessa...’ His head still rested against hers. ‘I don’t mind that you call me Captain. You may call me whatever you wish. But it wouldn’t hurt to call me by my name.’

  ‘It might,’ she said. ‘You’re leaving... You’re going away.’

  ‘Yes. And all I can think of is how I will hate to leave you.’

  She put her hands at his chest, but she didn’t push. She stood, letting the moment linger in her memory. For the rest of her life, she would be able to shut her eyes and remember this moment and the feel of standing alone with him. With all the rest of the world further away than an ocean.

  And the captain’s chest, moving with his breaths, and the silence, more quiet than could truly be real, surrounding them.

  He held her in his arms and the air around them was different than when they’d been on the Ascalon.

  And she knew how a goddess would feel to be revered. She could feel it in Benjamin’s touch and see it in his eyes.

  He moved back from her enough to lead her to the bed, stopping at the edge to stand so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips. He closed the distance, gently, and touched his mouth against hers.

  The pine scent of the ship still clung to him and his lips guided her into somewhere she’d never been before.

  When he breathed the smallest exhalation, she took it inside herself, and the air created more intensity in her than lightning flashing across the sky, snapping its power into the ground or sea.

  His arms banded around her, enclosing her, and they didn’t just surround her body. His touch delved deep into her spirit.

  When he pulled back, she saw his eyes and they’d changed. Softened and dazed. The blue had faded and the centre darkened and he looked at her more deeply than anyone else ever had.

  He pressed the side of his face against hers and his roughened skin changed her. In that instant she understood the true difference between a man and a woman, and a man’s magic, and how a simple touch could transform a person for ever.

  Pulling away, she reached up and brushed his cheek lightly, and it was as if she had put her hands over his whole body. She could feel that much of him. If she stepped back—and only looked—it would be as if they still embraced.

  But she wasn’t about to release him. She couldn’t have. This moment had been gifted her and she could not stop it. It would be like trying to stop rain.

  And for all she knew the world could have been flooding outside and the water swirling up against the door, but it wouldn’t have mattered. They were safe, completely at harbour in each other’s arms.

  Ben nuzzled his face against her, feeling the warmth. Thessa had taken him into her realm.

  ‘I do not know how a goddess would feel,’ he whispered, ‘but I know that she could not possibly be better than you.’ Or perhaps he just thought it, he wasn’t sure. But it was true. Thessa was beyond a mermaid. She was a woman created for him.

  Forget the legs, the lashes, the siren’s smile and the most perfect feet. Thessa. For this moment she was his Thessa.

  He kept his face against her neck, tasting the salty skin, then he turned her so he could feel her lips.

  Her flattened palms danced over his chest and traced downwards, feeling his stomach. His voice—it was gone.

  Stopping, he pulled back, gauging her response, hoping his mind hadn’t lied to him. Her eyes mirrored his feelings.

  He grasped her waist and pulled her closer, against his body, pressing himself against her. His fingers tensed against her and the slightness of her amazed him. He’d seen her powerful strokes when she sliced through the water and noted the strength in her legs when he’d pulled her on to Ascalon. But his arms surrounded her so completely he worried that he might crush her.

  Ben lightened his touch, but she tightened hers.

  Reaching her back, he felt for hooks or ties or something that might be unfastened, but he only felt the smoothness of fabric covering her back. He slid his hand downwards, finding the end of her shirt, and slipped the garment up.

  Thessa shivered when his fingertips brushed over her nipples. His fingers were long, tapered, but not smooth. They were hands of strength.

  He slipped his hands to her waist and backwards, to the swell of her bottom, and pulled her even closer against himself.

  Her mouth parted and she looked at him. She wanted to hear his voice again—to hear him speak.

  ‘Benjamin...’

  He stilled, but he didn’t answer, his lips still brushing along her skin like petals of a heated flower.

  ‘Ben...’

  He responded, little more than a murmur or a groan, filled with strength and weakness, all combined into one sound—but that was all she needed to hear.

  The coarse fabric of the trousers slid from her hips and he swept her on to the bed. Now the only clothing between them was his and he pulled back enough to work loose his fastenings, but their bodies only separated the barest a
mount while he freed himself from his trousers.

  Running his hand down to the triangle of her legs, he traced her cleft, while his tongue explored her mouth.

  The pulses he created in her grew, moving to enclose her in his touch, and she felt the same maelstrom she’d felt when the waves pulled her under, only this time life burst into her body, swirling her into another realm and then pushing her back to the surface whether she wanted to go or not. She no longer needed to breathe or move. She existed and that was all she could manage. She didn’t think she even breathed, but the air still flowed into her lungs and life returned to her body.

  Benjamin rose above her, sliding his hand along her thigh until he could lift her leg and wrap it around him.

  He joined himself to her and she heard him whisper her name, slowly, reverently. His eyes were closed. Water on his forehead turned his hair into wet tendrils. She held him, locking every moment into her memory.

  He shuddered and gasped, and no longer said her name, but he didn’t need to.

  When he pulled from her, his head dropped into the curve of her neck and she listened as he struggled to control his breathing.

  His husky whisper touched her ear as he struggled to speak. ‘I...love you, Thessa. And I always will.’

  One kiss, softer, delicate, fluttered at her cheek and he turned as if he would leave the bed, but he bent to take her foot.

  His hand stilled when he saw the mark. The darkened birthmark she shared with her sisters. The smudged form that neared the shape of a heart. And he kissed it.

  *

  Ben had held Thessa for hours, asking about her life. He’d wanted to know the answers, but mainly he’d wanted to keep her awake so he could hold her and hear her voice. When he woke, he slipped free of the covers, knowing he should wake Thessa so she could move to her room, but when he looked at her face, he couldn’t disturb the vision. Morning sunlight fell across her face and the rumpled bedclothes only added a white purity to the scene. He didn’t need this sight painted. He’d never forget it.