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Lieutenant Monroe was ready to leave the ship for his time on shore. He was still nursing a sore ego from the whore's rejection the night before. Her insinuation that her unwillingness to allow him into her bed had something to do with him was preposterous. He was the third son of an earl. Although he had bought his commission, Monroe had worked his way up to better ships, better commanders. He had battled with the Spanish and French. He was no coward, unlike many of his peers who had been forced to join the naval ranks because of a lack of options.
It had never come easily to him, being the third in line to a title that should rightfully be his. His older brothers were useless, having never accomplished a thing in their lives. It wouldn't have surprised him if he had come into the title, with the way his oldest brother used certain types of women. It was a miracle he hadn't succumbed to the pox long before now. His brother had managed to marry, though and his wife gave him two sons of his own, further removing him from the title.
His second oldest brother spent much of his time searching the ton for an heiress, rather than find an honest way to earn a living. How many times he'd heard his brother's complaints over having a brother in the navy. Instead, he lived on borrowed money, hoping that some rich girl would consider him merely because he was the son and brother of an earl. Pathetic, really.
Now he worked toward becoming the captain of his own ship. He was born to lead. He always opted for the night shift, knowing that an attack was more likely under the cover of darkness. Still, promotions alluded him, though his commanding officers had only high praise for his efforts.
And now he would have to sail across the ocean with a woman unwilling to give him the time of day. A woman who was convicted of murdering her own husband, a peer of the realm. It stung him a bit to think of how easily she had gotten off. If not for his captain, she would be wasting away in the brig, never seeing the light of day. And, that's where she should be, especially after last night. Not dining with the captain or keeping his bed warm.
Monroe had read the accounts in the papers before they'd set sail. Most of the information came from the Gammage family, which would have normally given him pause in believing everything he'd read, but now he knew it had to be true. Even though the captain had explained the situation to them, Northwood's reasoning behind treating her more like a guest than as a prisoner rang false. A woman as forthright as she could only have killed her husband in the most heinous of ways. She must have powerful friends indeed to keep her from the noose.
Making his way up the pier, Monroe had plans at one of the many brothels Las Palmas had to offer. He was willing to pay extra for a girl he knew to be clean. The idea of catching some wasting disease terrified him, but not enough to prevent him from seeking some comfort. It was difficult to live at sea without somebody to come home to, even if it was a different woman in every port.
Lost in his thoughts, he nearly knocked over the gentleman who had walked to intercept him. Looking up to issue an apology, he recognized the man immediately. He was one of the many privateers, who, like himself, had been born to gentlemen or peers, but lacked in resources. Unlike himself, privateers made loads of money without any honor.
“Webster, how do you do?” Monroe asked, disdain flavoring his tone.
“I am well, Monroe. Have you tired of the navy yet? Perhaps you should consider joining my crew.”
“Tempting, to be sure, but I am afraid I cannot. On your way to the West Indies, or from?” Asking questions to be polite, Monroe did not cease his walking to his desired location.
“I shall be shipping off to the West Indies soon. I was wondering if you had a moment for me to ask a favor? I shall make it worth your while.”
Stopping short to turn toward the taller man, Monroe looked him over quickly. “What could you possibly have to offer me, Webster?”
“I can get you into Madame Chevalier's establishment. You would agree that she has the finest ladies in all of Las Palmas.”
Monroe would be hard pressed not to agree. Madame Chevalier's brothel was a difficult establishment to patronize, with a long list of hopeful candidates. Their usual clientèle was among the wealthier sailors to pass through the port.
“And what do you require in exchange?” Monroe asked, leery of the offer laid before him.
“I ask only that you speak to your captain on my behalf. You have a prisoner on board your ship that I wish a few minutes of time with.”
Snorting, Monroe mumbled, “Prisoner, indeed.”
Raising his eyebrow, Nathaniel asked, “You do indeed have the former Lady Gammage aboard, do you not? I was led to believe that you did from another member of your crew.”
“Oh, Lady Gammage is aboard, but whether I would call her a prisoner is another matter all together.”
A burning sensation began in Nathaniel's stomach and was working its way up his throat. “What do you mean?”
Smiling, seeing a chance to exact some revenge, however small and petty, Monroe said, “Let us walk toward Chevalier's place. Perhaps I may be of assistance to you after all.”
Both men set a leisurely pace as they continued their journey into the town of Las Palmas. Curiosity was eating away at Nathaniel's stomach, until he could no longer contain it.
“Is she no longer on board?” he asked, watching Monroe's smile turn more sinister.
“Oh, she is aboard, Webster. I would not refer to her as a prisoner, though.”
“How so?”
“It seems that our captain has taken a liking to her. She occupies the cabin next to his and warms his bed every night.”
Nathaniel stopped short. It took Monroe a moment to realize that he was no longer next to him. Turning around, he was momentarily taken back by the murderous look on the privateer's face. Whatever he'd said, Webster had not taken it kindly.
“What could it be to you, Webster? Why would you care if the murdering whore has arranged better accommodations?”
Not wanting to give away his relationship with the murdering whore's dead husband, Webster smiled. Lying was second nature in his business, so it would not take much to convince Monroe that his interest was not personal.
“The Gammage family contacted me to make sure that the woman was being treated as she should be, considering what she'd done.”
“Oh, well, then you will have no good tidings for the Gammage family.”
“Would I be mistaken in thinking that the captain would allow an audience with me?”
Laughing, Monroe turned once again, walking toward the brothel. “The captain would most certainly not want to speak to you. From what I have heard, he has asked Lady Gammage to stay out of sight, to prevent anyone from finding out that she is being pampered.”
Resuming his place at his side, Nathaniel asked, “Then, why would you be so willing to provide me with the information?”
Stopping, Monroe put his arm out to stop his companion. Turning with a look of fierce disdain, he said, “I am very loyal, sir, but even I can see that the captain is mistaken in his belief that the woman deserves a second chance. I have heard his tale of her woes, but have assumed that she was able to convince him of her innocence. Most likely by offering her body to him.”
“I should like to speak to her... on the family's behalf, of course. Could you arrange that for me?”
“Highly unlikely, Webster. The captain would never allow it and you know that sneaking you on board the Phoenix would be next to impossible.”
“Could you remove her without anyone being the wiser?”
“Even if I could, I would not. By giving you this information, I go against my captain's wishes. I could be booted from my command for such an act. As I said, the only reason I give you this information is because even I can see she is not getting the punishment she deserves.”
“Well, if you are so conflicted, perhaps there is some other information you could provide that would be helpful in my quest for an audience with Lady Gammage.”
Monr
oe looked as though he considered the request for a moment. He resumed his stroll, knowing that the privateer would follow. “I can provide you with a bit of information that could aid you, but first, you will get me into Chevalier's. Only after you have arranged my evening and paid for it, will I be willing to provide you with what you seek.”
Nathaniel had never cared for Monroe, but now he liked him even less. If he hadn't found out that his cousin's killer was being treated like a pampered princess aboard the Phoenix, he would probably have let the whole thing go. But how was it that the woman could kill a peer and be treated so well on her way to the West Indies.
The men continued to their destination, where Nathaniel made good on his promise. Only after the arrangements were made did Monroe give him his information. After hearing what the lieutenant had to say, Webster had to admit he was glad he had paid the price. It was bad enough that she was being pampered on the journey there, but to hear that she would never make it to her final destination was appalling.
A plan formed in Nathaniel's head. Although he hadn't been a part of his family for quite some time, he knew it was up to him to make sure that justice was meted out. Lady Gammage had been given a gift in her sentencing and he would see that she received every damn bit of it.
Chapter 10
The next day, the Phoenix was on its way. Ginny was once again allowed free reign of the ship, which she used to learn as much as she could about how to operate a large sailing frigate. Most of the crew was more than happy to educate her, with few exceptions. Even after a couple of weeks, the terminology was lost on her, but she could help out when needed.
Jeremy was impressed by her diligence. Never before had he met a lady willing to sully her hands for any reason, especially to help those she should deem beneath her. Mostly, he enjoyed watching her, especially when she took up her foil. Corliss had taken to swordsmanship like a duck to water. She was fast and had the kind of keen mind to anticipate her opponent's next move. Being smaller, she was quicker and deft at avoiding any contact with her opponent's foil. On many mornings, the rest of the crew would take turns competing against her, nearly always losing.
This morning, it was the captain's turn. He'd always fancied himself adept with a sword, but even he wasn't about to underestimate the lady. He had been watching her for some weeks now and thought he understood her attack strategy.
“I am afraid your winning streak is at an end, my lady. I have a fair hand at sword fighting.”
A gentle smile formed on her lips as she gave him a sideways glance. “So much confidence. You know what they say: The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
Chuckling, he brought his foil up to show he was ready. Corliss, never taking her eyes from his, did the same. The captain, taking his cue, said, “En garde,” and the competition began.
Both had balls on the ends of their foils to avoid actual bloodshed. With each thrust he made, Corliss was able to respond. She hadn't yet tried to engage him, but seemed to be studying his moves, looking for weaknesses. If Jeremy had to put a name to what he'd been feeling during the fight, it would be enraptured. Her seriousness, her cunning and her sheer determination were more of a turn on than her standing before him naked and wet.
His mind wandered to the bedroom and that was when she made her move. Twisting slightly, she thrust forward and struck his shoulder. As soon as he felt the ball hit him, he heard his crew let out a rowdy cheer. Stepping back, he acknowledged the hit with a smile.
“Mr. Reynolds, it seems your training was put to good use,” he called to his commander.
“I could not be more proud. She is a fine student, Captain.”
The crew were congratulating Corliss with pats on the back and high pitched whistles. Jeremy was all to aware of his own issue. Not that he lost to a woman, as most of the crew already had, but that he had a raging erection from the competition itself that needed to be seen to.
In a booming voice, Northwood announced, “Back to work men.”
Walking up to Corliss, he whispered into her ear, “My cabin. Five minutes. Do not keep me waiting, my lady.”
Ginny raised her eyebrow to the captain. She didn't think he was mad over the loss, as he'd seen his best swordsmen fall under her mad skills. The look he gave her was purely carnal, and Ginny instantly responded to it.
The captain walked away without another glance, heading below deck. Commander Reynolds came to her side to give her some tips he'd observed during the match. Mostly, he wanted to congratulate her on her hard work.
“Perhaps we could have another match, my lady. I think I am beginning to understand your strategy.”
“Any time, Commander. But right now, I'm sweaty and want to get cleaned up. Would you excuse me?”
“Of course, my lady,” he responded, moving aside so she could pass.
Ginny figured that he knew exactly where she was going and it wasn't to clean up a little sweat. Maybe produce more sweat would be more accurate. The commander had been nothing but understanding, never judgmental. Too bad he was married and Ginny had already found a nice man on board the ship.
Making her way down below deck, Ginny came to the captain's door. Before she could knock, it swung open and she was dragged inside. Jeremy shoved her back against the door, holding her in place with his arm. Never taking his eyes from hers, he reached over and clicked the key in the lock.
Something about the look on his face reminded Ginny of Ian in Scotland. Her mouth went dry and she had to lick her lips, all the while her breathing became heavy. It wasn't hard to see that this man wanted her above anything else at the moment. And Ginny returned his sentiment.
“That was a fine match, my lady, but now it is my turn,” Jeremy uttered, his voice deep.
Breathless, Ginny asked, “Your turn for what?”
Instead of answering, Jeremy gave a lascivious smile and started to unbutton her shirt. With each button, he kissed the exposed skin until he reached the top of her chemise. Then, without a word, he lifted the bottom of the shirt from her pants and pulled it over her head.
“Put your hands on my shoulders, Corliss,” he requested a moment before he grabbed Ginny about the waist and lifted her up. Carrying her as though she weighed nothing, Jeremy moved her to the desk, gingerly placing her on the edge. Without another thought, he pushed his charts aside to make room for his prize.
Running his hands down her legs, Jeremy knelt to remove her boots. When each was gone and thrown to the floor, he slowly stood back up and undid the top of her breeches. Each step he took was painstaking, but would ultimately be worth the trouble.
Ginny stared at the man before her. He was so focused in his desire, she couldn't help but be flattered by his attention. When he wanted to remove her pants, Ginny gladly lifted herself up so he could slide the material down and off her legs. Now, only her chemise remained, but before she could help him remove it, Jeremy had other ideas.
Picking her up, Jeremy scooted Ginny further onto the desk, taking the time to bring her feet up to sit on the edge of the desk. Ginny understood what he meant to do and laid back on the desk, waiting for him.
Jeremy ran his hands up her outer thighs as his face came down to taste her. He used his hands on her knees to widen her legs, while he used his tongue to explore her feminine folds. With each stroke, he relished hearing her soft pants.
As Ginny laid there, enjoying his attentions, she wondered for a moment how this was his turn, when she was the one receiving all the benefits. Before, Jeremy's lovemaking was satisfying, but this brought it to a new level. Maybe even the level of mega-hunk, although Ginny still doubted he was the one.
In Ginny's real life, she hadn't had sex with as many men as she had during her novel adventures. Now, she was having casual sex with the captain of a naval frigate bound for the Americas. There was a nagging fear that Jeremy didn't consider it casual, that he might want something more from her, like marriage. Before the concerns could ruin her moment, Ginny came hard, nearly buc
king off the desk in response.
Thankfully, she was able to stifle most of her screams with her arm across her mouth. That would teach her not to pay attention to what was going on. Hadn't she already decided that thinking would not be a part of this adventure? As her bones melted, strange thoughts like “Go with the flow,” and “Live and let live,” came to mind.
Sitting up on her elbows, a smile came to Ginny as she watched his smug satisfaction. Jeremy unbuttoned his pants, releasing his erection. Pulling her forward, he entered her with one quick push, with Ginny already wet and ready for him when he did.
Jeremy took Ginny's legs and wrapped them around him, pushing into her as his mouth descended on her breasts. Pulling the straps of her chemise down to expose her skin to him, he kept pumping away into her body, thankful that the desk was firmly nailed to the floor.
A Lesson in Presumption Page 7
