Captive Hearts

by Teresa J. Reasor

  “What kind of ship is the Caroline?”

  “She’s an American built brigantine. She’s not as large as some, but she’s fast and sturdy.”

  “How often do you sail to England in her?”

  “Twice a year. This is to be my final voyage as the captain of a sea vessel. I’ve responsibilities at home that I need to take up.”

  “Your daughter?”

  “Yes, Emily misses me a great deal, and a ship is no place for a child to be reared. My father died last spring. I now have a plantation to run as well.” Her brows arched. “So you shall become a gentleman farmer there in America.”

  He pondered her description decided it met with his approval, though it didn’t truly fit the responsibilities that went along with being a plantation owner. “In Charleston, South Carolina. My three brothers and I own quite a bit of property there. James owns a hotel and some warehouses, Stephen, a plantation of his own, and Thomas has a nobler calling, he’s a doctor.”

  “It sounds as though your family has thrived there.” He read pain in the careful composure of her features before she turned her head to look away. Reminded of her grief and hoping to distract her, he pointed out the progress of a brigantine as it moved up the channel away from them under full sail.

  The bow of the rowboat skimmed the side of the Caroline. He rose, braced his feet apart to retain his balance, and cupping his hands around his mouth, called

  upward, “Ahoy, Caroline. Is there anyone aboard?” A freckled face appeared from above and a smile split the young boy’s features crinkling his eyes to slits.

  “Cap’ain Hamilton. Henry’s been worrying holes in the deck fretting about you.”

  “Well, you may tell him his worrying has been wasted, Georgie. Here I am, and I want to come aboard.”

  “Aye, sir.” He hastened to remove a section of railing and lower a rope ladder.

  Matthew secured the boat to a brass ring mounted on the bulkhead closest to them, then offered Katherine a hand.

  She eyed the ladder with a frown, but rose to her feet. “I’ll be behind you to steady you,” he said as she grasped the rung above her head for balance against the rocking of the boat.

  “Perhaps you should put my shoes in your pockets.” She slipped her feet free of the dainty slippers and handed them to him one at a time.

  His weight kept the ladder from swaying. He aligned his body with hers as they climbed lest she lose her grip and start to fall. Even through her cloak, he felt her shoulder blades against his chest, the rounded curve of her buttocks against his loins as they ascended spoon-like topside. Her soft womanly body brushed back against him setting alight needs he had yet to assuage. He breathed in the scent of violets that lingered in her hair and wondered if her skin would taste as sweet. His heart hammered against his ribs as his blood heated and pooled leaving him hard and aching with an arousal that made it difficult for him to draw a full breath.

  As they reached the deck, Georgie offered Katherine a hand and helped her aboard. After a quick look at her flushed checks and averted gaze, Matthew cursed his lack of control. He should have been better prepared to curb his response to her. The hollow feeling that had plagued him since learning of her attack returned with a vengeance. It wouldn’t help her recovery from such an experience if he conducted himself like a randy fool.

  Henry appeared from below the quarterdeck, and his gap-toothed smile of welcome eased the moment. Seeing

  Katherine, he whipped his cap off and extended a smile to her. The few wisps of hair remaining atop his balding pate waved in the breeze.

  Matthew produced her slippers from his pockets. He placed them upon the deck. She slid her feet into them.

  He turned to introduce his wife to the two and suddenly realized the awkwardness of the situation. “Katherine, this is Henry one of my crew and Georgie, my cabin boy.

  Henry, Georgie, my wife, Katherine.” Henry recovered first and wiped the dumbfounded expression from his weathered face with another smile.

  He bobbed his head and worked the cap between his hands as though he might strangle it. “Pleased to meet ye, mum.”

  The man actually blushed when she offered her hand and shook his.

  Georgie flashed her a boyish grin and repeated the words.

  Matthew’s gaze swept the planking of the deck, bleached white in spots from many scrubbings. Ropes coiled at the ready lay beneath the spars from which they ran. Hatches were battened against the inclement English weather. Everything was in its place. Well satisfied with his crew’s work, he offered Henry a smile.

  He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and soaked in the melodic creak of the deck beneath his feet. He opened his eyes. “She appears to have suffered no lasting effects from being boarded.”

  “Nay, Cap’in; the crew saw to that. We wondered, when last seein’ ye, if ye were faring as well.”

  “There were times, I was uncertain as to my fate, Henry, but I am well, and ready to prepare for the trip home.”

  He followed Katherine’s progress as she strolled to the port railing, her attention focused on the ships in the distance. The late afternoon sun set alight the burnished tresses coiled at the back of her head. A cold breeze whipped over the deck, dusting a rosy hue across the fragile curve of her cheek.

  There had been men he with whom he had served who had possessed less resolve and courage than she did.

  She would be facing all of society’s strictures as well as

  risking her life to see justice done. As she had spoken of standing for her dead family, the resentment and anger he had harbored had seemed petty and unimportant.

  “When did ye wed, sir?” Henry asked, his expression curious.

  “Yesterday.”

  His brows rose in surprise. He was quick to say, “I’m glad for ye, sir. Ye’ve grieved long enough. Yer still a young man and ye don’t want to end up an old salt without a wife and children to go home to, like me.” Matthew had given little thought to more children. It didn’t bothered him that his only child was female. His brothers were perfectly capable of keeping the Hamilton name alive if he should never have a son.

  Katherine tipped her head back and looked up at one of the tall masts. The breeze coming off the water blew back her cloak, laying bare the slender line of her throat and the swell of her breasts. The shape of her upper body was held in tempting relief against the pale blue sky.

  What a waste it would be if she denied herself the opportunity to be a wife and mother because of the events of that one night. The thought made him uneasy. He turned his attention back to Henry.

  “We have less than a month to provision the ship and set sail, Henry. I’ll need your and Georgie’s help in gathering the crew we have left and hiring others. We’ll start tomorrow. Have you any idea where Mr. Blevins and Mr. Ray may be residing?”

  “Aye, sir. Mr. Blevins and Mr. Ray are at the Strutting Cock. They’ve been waitin’ to hear from ye.” He smiled. “Good.”

  Katherine looked upward through the maze of guidelines connected to the sails. They looked like the work of a demented spider. What would it be like to board such a ship and sail away to places unknown? Being a woman, she would never know such freedom. Or would she? Once she had seen the criminals captured and punished, she would have only herself to worry about. If she was careful with her income, she might be able to do some traveling.

  If everyone already thought her reputation ruined, she wouldn’t have to safe guard herself against gossip.

  They would think the worst anyway after the marriage ended. What more would they be able to say about her if she did as she pleased? Perhaps she would settle in another country all together.

  Leaning her elbows upon the railing, she watched the activity on the dock. She longed for paper, ink, and quill to set down the images before her.

  “What is it you’re studying so intently, Katherine?” Matthew asked as he joined her.

  “Everything.” She leaned a hip upon the railing as she
faced him. “Where besides England have you traveled?”

  “France and Spain.”

  “That sounds like quite an adventure.” Bracing his feet upon the deck, he folded his hands behind him. “Actually, it was a very enlightening one. We were once boarded by pirates and lost some of our cargo.

  Two men were killed.”

  “You were not injured?”

  “No. I was only a boy and of little consequence.”

  “When did you get your own ship?”

  “Four years ago. I’ve made two voyages a year to England carrying cotton, indigo, rice, and tobacco.” Had he returned to the sea after his wife’s death because of his grief? He had named a ship after her. That seemed testament enough of his devotion to her.

  Who would grieve her loss should something happen?

  Hannah, her maid, would be the only one. The thought made Katherine more conscious of her solitude. Though Matthew stood beside her, she felt alone.

  She shook off the feeling of self-pity and straightened her shoulders. “Are you not going to tour the ship?” she asked.

  “I thought perhaps you would like to tour it with me.”

  “Certainly.”

  He guided her down a dimly lit passageway beneath the quarterdeck. He pointed out the galley and stopped at the first small cabin. Dim light filtered into the room from a small porthole. “This cabin is shared by my purser and first mate.” The area was barely big enough for the bunks, one atop the other, and a small aisle for the men to get into bed.

  The gentle pressure of his hand against her back guided her further down the hall to another cabin. “This is my home when I’m not on dry land,” Matthew said as he opened the door. The room was no more than ten feet long and twelve feet wide. The dark paneling of the walls gleamed with care. Halfway between the door and the back bulkhead, a small brick fireplace hugged the wall, a kindling box beside it. A table and four chairs stood close by. Built directly into the opposite bulkhead, were a water closet, a washstand, and his bunk.

  His desk, with a unit of cubbyholes constructed above it, faced his bunk. Maps were neatly rolled and stored within the compartments. A shelf atop it held three leather-bound editions on navigation and some metal instruments. A decorative molding around the edge secured them. A bay of windows took up the back bulkhead with a window seat beneath. Every area was designed with efficiency and took up as little space as possible.

  “Being captain affords me the luxury of this much space. The men have to endure much more cramped housing.”

  She crossed the threshold of the cabin and wandered to the bank of windows at one end. Afternoon sunlight streamed across the floor and touched upon the bunk against the wall, a bed barely wide enough to accommodate two people. Her cheeks grew hot at the thought. Sitting on the window seat, she turned to look out upon the water.

  Behind her, Matthew lit a lantern, drawing her attention. He crossed to the desk, and looked through the maps and charts there, then turned his attention to the metal devices on the shelf above.

  She studied the play of light on his features, the wide expanse of his back and shoulders, so strong and manly.

  What would it be like to have such a man stand beside her against adversity?

  Once he knew what she had done, it would be doubtful that he would continue to treat her with such understanding. Would he voice his displeasure in that biting tone he had used at the midday meal or vent his anger in a more physical manner? One seldom knew what

  men would do.

  She quickly turned her interest elsewhere as he set aside the instruments.

  “Do you wish to remain here, Katherine, while I inspect the rest of the ship?”

  “No, I would like to accompany you.” Carrying a lantern in one hand, he guided her from the cabin and along the passageway. A dark square appeared in the deck and a narrow flight of steps disappeared into the depths below.

  The pressure of his hand against her waist urged her down the rough wooden stairs. The lantern swayed as he held it aloft. Bunks hugged the walls supported vertically by wooden beams that ran from ceiling to deck with a narrow passageway between just wide enough for a man to slide in sideways.

  Instantly, the room seemed to shrink to the dimensions of the small square of space upon which they stood. The dark sucked the air from the room making it difficult for her to draw breath enough to speak. A cold sweat broke out across her brow and coated her skin beneath her gown.

  The deck swayed beneath her feet as the pressure of his hand steered her forward across the cabin to another passageway beyond. He made some comment about the crew’s quarters, his deep voice sounding muffled beneath the drumming heartbeat that filled her ears. The air grew thinner as the bunks on either side closed their ranks about her. Gasping, Katherine turned and crashed into Matthew, upsetting the lantern. The lamp swung, the light rocking back and forth to a sickening tempo. She shoved past him and stumbled across the compartment to the stairs. Dizzy, the buzzing in her ears loud, she gained the top of the steps, then bracing a hand against the wooden paneling of the passageway, followed it to the entrance.

  Out on the deck with the mid November sun overhead and a breeze like a tonic chilling her damp skin, her breathing eased and the hollow ringing in her ears receded. With her limbs weak, her body shaking with reaction, she found a seat on the steps to the quarterdeck above and half reclined upon them.

  A subtle change in the movement of the breeze against her face had her opening her eyes. Matthew had braced a foot upon the bottom step and leaned down to gaze into her face. The masculine shape and size of him loomed over her. His eyes a pale, stormy blue, his lips a taut grim line, the controlled violence in his expression caused her heart to give an anxious jitter.

  “If you have never spoken a true word before, Madame, you’d better do so now. Are you with child?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Matthew extended a long leg and braced a leather-shod foot against the seat across from him. The coach bounced and swayed in a soothing rhythm as it traversed the cobbled streets. The motion did nothing to ease Katherine’s ramrod stiff posture as she sat beside him.

  Though he could only see her profile, her features maintained a careful lack of expression, her gaze fastened upon the passing scenery. She had said nothing since the scene on the quarterdeck, her silence carrying a weight that more than filled the space between them. The quick flash of pain in her expression, then her icy denial had left him with more questions than answers. The barrier of silence she had erected only made him want to goad her into a fight.

  “I had every right to know, Katherine.”

  “And now you know, Captain.” She continued to look out the window.

  “Sulking isn’t a becoming trait.” Her jaw went taut. “You have more chance of being shot for dallying with some other man’s wife, than you have of my soiling your honorable name. Believe me, I shan’t borrow it any longer than I must.” A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

  He’d rather have her spitting insults than ignoring him.

  He folded his arms across his chest. “It was my resistance to such dallying that caused my troubles. And now that I’ve a new bride, I shan’t have an opportunity to do any dallying, unless I do it with her.” Finally, her almond shaped violet eyes focused upon him, a warning glitter in their depths.

  Another smile attempted to break free. He controlled it with an effort. “I don’t intend to play the hermit the last weeks I spend with Clarisse and Talbot. Since you’re my wife, I don’t intend for you to do so either. Your presence will be required at the functions I attend, and if I know

  Clarisse, they’ll be many.”

  He frowned as the color in her cheeks subsided.

  “You must know that will only cause more trouble for us both.”

  He didn’t pretend he missed her meaning. “No one will dare offer you insult in my or Talbot’s presence. And of course with the gossip spread about your deflowering from the household
through the servants, some of the rumors will be laid to rest. That was what you intended.” Her expression remained controlled, but the tip of her tongue appeared to moisten her lips. “Yes.”

  “Well, you might as well take advantage of the situation.”

  The coach came to a halt, and he preceded her out of the conveyance. A length of fabric secured to the second floor balcony above fluttered in the breeze drawing his attention as he offered her a hand. The realization that it was the sheet from their marriage bed occurred to him in the same moment Katherine looked up and missed the second step. He staggered as he caught her unbalanced weight with one arm, breaking her plunge toward the ground. He had little time to register the soft feminine feel of her against him before she twisted away, her feet barely finding purchase before she focused her attention on the billowing proof of purity flapping against the façade of the house.

  A sound somewhere between a groan and a gasp escaped her as her fingers clutched his stock. She turned shock-widened eyes up to him. “Oh Matthew—” The distress in her tone had his hands curling around her waist to draw her against him. He brushed a soothing hand over her burnished curls. “It would seem someone else has taken a more direct route to ending the gossip.”

  Her voice sounded choked with emotion. “Please—

  make them take it down.” ****

  “Do you intend to question her about what happened, Matthew?” Talbot set aside the chess piece. He shook free of his coat and hung it on the back of his tall backed chair then poured them both a drink from a bottle set upon a small Pembroke drop leaf table against the wall.

  Matthew stretched before the fire, and bracing his feet apart, folded his hands behind him. “I thought she might speak more freely once I had earned her trust. It seems that may be more difficult than I anticipated.” Talbot offered him the snifter, a teasing smile lightening his features. “You have never had trouble in the past that I can recall.”