Signs of Love and Deliverance

by Tracy Kay

  Madeline smiled sweetly back at him, touched that he was being so kind to her. “I don’t want another brother, Damon. I have enough of those. Why don’t you be my friend?”

  “That, I can do.” Damon stood. “I need to go make my rounds and sail this ship for a while. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “I will try.”

  “Good.” Damon kissed her forehead and left the cabin.

  Madeline pushed herself away from the table and brushed away the tear that spilled down her cheek. She was not going to cry. She could not change what happened. She was here and that was that. Madeline stood and began undressing, fighting off the sobs gathering in her throat. She would not allow herself to start. She feared if she did, she would not be able to stop. Oh, how she missed her home. She knew she would see her family and friends again, but what was the hardest was losing Joselyn. Despite all the things Joselyn had done, Madeline had cared for her.

  Brushing away another tear, Madeline gathered her determination and refocused her attention on Damon. He was very handsome, gentle, quiet, and strong. He wasn’t the same kind of handsome as her brother, Brandon, or Raven. Those two men were beautiful, elegant, and commanding. Damon was more rugged, brawny and solid. Yes, he was solid. He was the type of man who would give his help when needed, a man she could trust.

  Madeline smiled and slipped her night gown over her head. She liked Damon, a lot. She liked how he had held her last night, comforting her, and he had a sense of humor. She felt safe around him like she did with her brothers. There weren’t too many men other than family she trusted, perhaps the Malanys. But Damon, well if she wasn’t careful, she could fall in love that man.

  With that startling revelation, Madeline laughed. She had never thought she would ever be smitten with a man and here she was truly smitten. “Well,” she giggled, “it is about time.” Content and thrilled with her discovery, Madeline slipped into bed, hoping Damon would join her soon.

  Standing behind the helm, Damon’s thoughts were traveling on the same line as Madeline’s. He liked her, a lot. She was beautiful, kind, opinionated, curvy, and he was truly enamored with her. He hadn’t expected the instant sexual attraction he had for her or the fierce craving to possess her and keep her safe. He wanted to pull her tight against him and kiss her long and hard. He wanted to make her his. Damon sighed. He would have to keep his distance or this voyage could become messy.

  With determination, Damon decided he would spend as little time with Madeline as possible. He would have his meals with her, make sure she was settled in at night, and make sure the crew treated her kindly, but any more contact and he was afraid he would end up seducing her. He had no desire to disappoint Brandon. Damon was to protect Madeline, not fall in love with her, and that was what he was going to do, even if it killed him.

  Maxine was concentrating on the spread of playing cards in front of her when he entered the parlor. Nicholas watched her from the entry way, letting the silence stretch between them. He took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey he had in his hand. He vaguely remembered meeting her last night, and he most likely made an ass of himself, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want her here, not at all. “So, you are Maxine.”

  “Uh huh,” she muttered, not looking up from the cards.

  Nicholas walked towards her and sat across from her at the table and set the bottle down beside him. “My sister’s companion. I don’t know why Brandon has you here. I can take care of my family myself.”

  “Not if you stay drunk, you can’t.” Maxine stared up at him in challenge. Brandon had asked her to do a job, and, damn it, she intended on doing it.

  Nicholas shrugged. “A little drink never hurt anyone.”

  Maxine grunted in answer and looked back at the cards.

  “How ‘bout a game?” Nicholas suggested, pointing at the cards.

  “Sure.” Maxine dragged the bottle close to her, out of Nicholas’ easy reach, gathered up the cards, and shuffled them. She allowed the silence between them to thicken and intensify before she dealt. “What is the wager?”

  Nicholas grinned wolfishly. “One night in my bed if you lose.”

  “And if I win?” Maxine regarded him intently and raised a black brow.

  “I won’t kick you out.” Nicholas shrugged, sure he would win this game and be rid of her.

  They played the game in silence. Maxine laid the last card down and smirked at her win. Slowly, she raised her eyes up to meet his disgruntled ones. “Did I forget to tell you, I never lose?”

  Nicholas glared at her, reached for the bottle of whiskey and brought it to his lips.

  Maxine took it from his hand before it made it there. “I don’t think so. You are not going to get drunk while I am here.”

  “Then leave.” Nicholas waved his hand towards the door, annoyed with the situation.

  “This is not the way to deal with her loss,” Maxine said with understanding, placing the bottle carefully on the table.

  “What the hell do you know about loss?” He barked with agony on his face.

  Maxine looked at him for a long moment. “More than you could ever imagine,” she replied, picking up the bottle and leaving him to stare after her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Madeline squinted into the afternoon sun as she absently practiced the knot Tylib had taught her. She had a pile of rope in her lap and she was making a mess of things. She simply couldn’t concentrate on the task. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the man standing behind the helm. He was stunning, she thought. The sun was gleaming in his dark brown hair and his body moved easily. She sighed and ventured to ask Tylib the question that was burning inside her. “Ty? Why is Damon so . . . reserved?” she inquired shyly.

  Ty regarded her quizzically. “Reserved? Perhaps he seems reserved because of you?”

  “Me?”

  “He is responsible for you. Your brother put you in his care. He does not want to breech that trust,” Tylib explained before taking the rope from her hands and tsking at the mess she had made of it.

  “I don’t understand, Ty. He avoids me, and when he is with me, he hardly speaks to me,” she exclaimed with consternation.

  Tylib untangled the rope and handed it back to her and indicated for her to continue practicing her knots. “He is attracted to you, little one. This is why he distances himself from you. He does not want you hurt.”

  “How could he hurt me by talking to me?” She pouted, frustrated.

  “’Cause he wants more than talk, lassie.” Plopping down beside her, the old sea dog, Ian MacKinnsy, a small, tough looking man with graying blond hair, a short, cropped beard, pale blue eyes with wrinkles fanning out across his friendly face caused from squinting into the sun and too much laugher, and known to everyone as Mac, joined in the conversation with a thick Scottish brogue. “I’s know Damon since he was a tyke on Morgan’s ship. He was quite a laddie, he was. Quiet at first, then he started showin’ his true colors when he started feelin’ safe agin. He was always a gettin’ into truble, he was. Why, Raven was a punishin’ him almost avery day, he was so mischievous. And Raven, he has an easy hond with the wee ones. Raven had to share his cabin with him for Damon’s own safety ‘cause the crew got tired of all his pranks, they did. Aye, but he was a sad laddie when Morgan an’ Raven brought him aboard.”

  “Why?” Madeline was truly interested in whatever she could learn about Damon.

  “I don’ know if I shuld be a tellin’ ye this. It be Damon’s story to be a tellin’.” Mac frowned and scratched at his short, graying, blond beard, leading her on and preparing to tell a tale, one of his favorite past times.

  “Please, Mac, tell me. He will never tell me on his own,” Madeline pleaded with big, green eyes.

  “Yes, please, do tell. I have not heard this story,” Tylib added, interested in the coming story as well.

  “Well, bein’ that yer friends an’ all,” Mac took out his pipe to prolong the suspense. “I heard tell that Damon, at a wee ag
e of eight, was the cabin boy for the Flyin’ Manna. The capt’n was a monster of a mon and he wuld require his crew to sign up for two years. They wuldn’a see a penny afore their time was up. The poor laddie didn’a know wot he was a gettin’ hisself into.” Mac lit his pipe and puffed on it a few times to get it going before continuing with his story.

  “The Flyin’ Manna was a ship that had only one cargo, human flesh. An evil thing that, the sellin’ of folks. The laddie had a mischievous nature as I said, an’ he culdn’a help hisself, but to get into truble, an’ he had a temper to go with it when he was provoked, he did.” Mac winked and grinned. “Still do, I reckon. Anyway, he got many lashes for his nature, he did. He tried to escape many times in the first year an’ he was punished severely for it. But he wised up, an’ behaved hisself an’ waited to try agin when the capt’n trusted him to go ashore with the other maties. It was two years or so after he had boarded that ship afore he was ‘lowed to go ashore. Now, I’s a old sea dog an’ there’s nothin’ I love more than the lady, but a body got to go ashore on occasion.”

  He took a long draw on his pipe and puffed out smoke into little rings before finishing his story. “Two years is a awful long time, an’ Damon had a plan, he did. He went with the maties to a tavern an’ waited ’til they’s good and drunk. Then he tried sneakin’ ot, but Raven tripped him. You see Morgan an’ Raven where watchin’ the laddie an’ his antics, pourin’ his drink into his maties’ empty ones while they wasn’a lookin’, he was. Curious was Morgan an’ Raven, an’ when the laddie told ‘em his story, they took him with ‘em. That is how he ended up on the Deliverance. He was arund ‘bout ten when he joined Capt’n Morgan an’ he knew more ‘bout the evils of mon than a ladddie shuld know.” Mac nodded and took a draw on his pipe having finished his story.

  “That must have been horrible for him, but that doesn’t explain why he keeps his distance from me,” Madeline expressed sadly, touched by the story and the hardship and pain Damon had to endure.

  “Aye, but it does, lovey. He doesn’a think he’s good nuff for ye. He be a hard mon at times. He come from a common back’rund an’ he be only a sea capt’n. He doesn’a want to hurt ye with his ways.”

  Madeline disagreed. “He has been nothing but kind and courteous. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was a member of the British gentry.”

  “Aye, that be Morgan’s influence. He makes sure all his strays ‘ave manners an’ education. He be a good mon, an’ Damon, he take after Morgan.” Mac nodded his head to make his point.

  “Captain Morgan raised my brother and if he is good enough for me so is Damon,” Madeline declared, getting up.

  “Lassie, where you goin’?” Mac asked suspiciously.

  “I am going to have to convince Captain Damon Spencer to show his temper.” Madeline grinned slyly, forming a plan. She was going to get Damon Spencer’s attention if it killed her.

  “Och lass, you don’t want to be doin’ that. His temper is fierce, it is,” Mac warned.

  “No fiercer than mine, I would wager.” Madeline began walking away determinedly.

  Catching her arm, Tylib warned, “Do not do anything foolish, Madeline.”

  “Oh, I am sure Damon will think it very foolish.”

  “I cannot allow you to hurt yourself,” Tylib insisted, holding tight onto her arm. Whatever she was planning, he didn’t think any good would come of it.

  “Don’t worry, Ty,” she placated as she slipped her arm out of his grasp. “Brandon took me on his ship numerous times and I know enough about one. I will be perfectly safe, whatever I decide to do.” Madeline had her own mischief planned. She winked at Tylib and Mac before she walked away with two surprised men staring after her.

  “We should warn him,” Tylib said, watching after her with worry in his eyes.

  “But we willn’a. She is just wot he needs. An’ I’s bet all me years on the sea that Cat knew it too.” Mac grinned, nodding his head and pulled on his pipe.

  “So that is why he agreed to allow her on this ship.”

  Mac stood and looked towards Damon and smirked. “It ain’t had nothin’ to do with her safety, laddie.” He left Tylib to muse over his words.

  Tylib scratched his bearded chin in thought. When he realized the implications of the situation, Tylib bellowed with laugher. Cat knew how Damon would fight his instincts. He knew Damon wouldn’t be able to resist Madeline’s charm and beauty, and he knew that she was too curious and a bit of a troublemaker herself to allow Damon to stew for too long. Cat was matchmaking. And when Cat went matchmaking, it always took.

  Madeline smoothed her sweating hands over the breeches she had changed into, the only sign of her nervousness. Her idea of getting Damon’s attention had begun to formulate as she had walked back to their cabin. By the time she had changed into her only pair of dark breeches and a white, loose fitting blouse, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She had done it at least a dozen times on her brother’s ship so she knew she would be safe enough, but Damon wouldn’t know that. With a grin lightly touching her lips, she walked onto the deck and glanced at the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a climb.

  Looking around her to make sure no one was watching, Madeline began to climb the rigging. It didn’t take her long to get to the first sail and its mast. She stared down at the deck and watched as crew members went about their tasks. No one had noticed her yet or didn’t care.

  Madeline glanced upward to the next set of ropes and sail and decided to go up to the crow’s nest. It wasn’t that much farther up and she had climbed rigging when she was on Brandon’s ship. Madeline smiled in remembrance. The first time she had done it, Brandon had been furious with her, but she did get his attention. He had been ignoring her for some reason she could not remember. After the second time she had made a trip up the rigging, Brandon saw the necessity of teaching her how to climb the rigging correctly so she wouldn’t hurt herself. He hadn’t wanted to rescue her for a third time. He had given her the breeches she was now wearing, telling her that if she was going to climb rigging, she should at least be dressed appropriately and safely, and not give his crew an eyeful when her gown bellowed out in the wind.

  Madeline loved the dizzying height then and she loved it now. She breathed in deep with excitement as a light breeze swept through her hair and she began climbing higher. She loved the freedom and the exhilaration being this high gave her. She laughed with pleasure when she reached the crow’s nest and she swung herself up, surprising the sailor on watch.

  “What the hell are ya doin’ up here?” The young sailor demanded.

  “I wanted to see what it was like?” Madeline grinned and shrugged.

  The sailor, Hiram, stared at her in astonishment. “Well, ya can take yerself right back down, darlin’. It is too dangerous for ya ta be up here.”

  “No,” Madeline refused stubbornly and leaned over the railing peering down onto the ship’s deck, watching sailors that resembled the size of ants from this height.

  “Then ya give me no choice.” Hiram cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. “Capt’n!”

  Damon looked up when he was called and saw a blond head duck out of sight. “What the hell is she doing up there?” he rumbled under his breath before shouting. “Madeline Emeline Cathcart, you get down here now!”

  Madeline peeked over the side of the crow’s nest and down at Damon, curious at how he knew her second name. Brandon must have told him. Shrugging off the puzzlement, she grinned. She got his attention. She stood up and swung her legs over the edge, grasped the nearest rope and shimmied down. She landed in front of Damon. “You called, Capt’n?”

  Damon snorted at her antics and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Never do that again,” he chastised.

  Madeline tossed her head sassily. “I was only having fun, Damon.”

  Damon regarded her sharply. “Find another way to have fun. You are not permitted to climb the rigging. It is too dangerous for you. Do you
understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” Madeline answered sarcastically.

  “I mean it, Madeline,” he reiterated sternly, squeezing her shoulders in emphasis.

  “I see that, sir.” Madeline could barely keep her smile hidden, but her sparkling eyes gave away her humor. She had ignited his anger or at least his concern. Perhaps now, he would pay attention to her.

  “I don’t have time for this, Madeline.” Damon let her go and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Brandon was not kidding when he said she was a handful. “Madeline go to our cabin and stay out of trouble,” he commanded and walked away before he said or did something he would regret, such as putting her over his knee, or better yet, thoroughly kissing her.

  Confounded at his lack of reaction, Madeline did as he instructed, fighting back the tears of frustration the whole way there. Her humor of a minute ago was completely gone.

  “Keep your hands up, Deirdre. You don’t want your opponent to have an opening,” Maxine instructed. Deirdre and Maxine where practicing in the small pasture yard near the Cathcart’s stables. Maxine was pleased at Deirdre’s progress in such a short time. She was easy to teach and quickly picked up on the self-defense moves. Maxine was enjoying her time teaching Deirdre. She had quick reflexes and she did as she was instructed, not to mention she was fun. Much to Maxine’s surprise, Deirdre had a lively sense of humor. She wasn’t at all what Maxine had expected.

  Deirdre moved her hands up higher. “Like this, Max?” Deirdre asked in concentration. She liked Maxine and she was very happy that Brandon had suggested that she learn to defend herself. She felt stronger and safer. And Maxine made it enjoyable and easy.

  “Perfect.” Maxine nodded as she made a move to attack Deirdre, who quickly blocked Maxine’s move. “Good, Deirdre, but don’t be afraid to counter attack. Lean into your block to get into position to sweep your opponent’s leg with yours, like I taught you yesterday.” Deirdre nodded and they tried the move again.