“Aye, Captain.”
Marcus smiled at Isabelle and nodded. “Please get some rest tonight. I fear the kind of work I have for you will be laborious, and genteel ladies like yourself, aren’t used to it.”
She turned, and followed Gabe out the door and back to her room. Marcus relaxed against the mattress, not realizing until now how tense he’d become. He didn’t trust her. If given the chance, the woman would indeed try to kill him again.
Gabe stepped back into the room and shut the door, chuckling. “Captain, I think your punishment is just the cure for Miss Stanhope.”
Marcus nodded. “That woman needs to be brought down from her perch, to be sure. I cannot wait to play with her a bit more, though.” He rubbed his bandage. “As soon as I’m healed.”
Gabe nodded. “What do you want me to do with the other prisoners?”
“Visit them tonight for me. Ask them once again if they know where the documents are located and threaten to destroy their belongings if they don’t answer. Let them know we will return their things if we get what we want.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Marcus scratched his chin, prickly with a three-day stubble. “If our prisoners don’t confess to having the documents, take them out blindfolded first thing before sunrise and drop them off just far enough to walk to town.”
“How long are you planning on keeping Miss Stanhope?”
Marcus grinned. “I’m thinking a week’s worth of having her be my nursemaid might settle our little Miss Stanhope’s temperament. Don’t you agree?”
“Definitely.”
“She won’t know how close we are to New York for at least a week, and during that time, I shall make the best out of what I have.”
Chapter Four
Marcus awoke with the sun, blinking as he rolled to his side. Pain speared through him and he cradled his wound and slowly adjusted onto his back. He hissed. His physician had given instructions to rest without any big movements, but Marcus just couldn’t obey. There was way too much for him to do.
Beginning today, he would have a new servant. How could he lay still at a time like this?
Marcus had been anxious for the new day to start and lain awake most of the night, waiting for the sun to arise. He didn’t know how he’d treat Isabelle, whether to order her around like a slave or give gentle words of encouragement. He enjoyed their verbal swordplay, and if she were truly frightened of him, she wouldn’t have such a spirited temper.
Closing his eyes, he relaxed. Against his will, he thought about the kiss they’d shared. He shouldn’t think of her this way, not when she tried to kill him and might do it again. Yet, she was so passionate in his arms the other evening, how could he forget the blissful moment?
The squeak of his door opening brought him alert. She walked in; her face drooped with fatigue and dark circles under each eye. Gabe kept close behind her, his scowl as dark as her expression. Marcus grinned and struggled to sit up. His friend elbowed the new servant and pointed to the bed.
“Your duties start now, wench. The captain needs help.”
She trudged to his side and stuffed pillows behind him. Twice, she’d bumped into him, but quickly pulled away as if he were on fire. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her flowery scent deeply. When she stepped back, he looked at her. Her cheeks were flushed and eyes were wide.
“Thank you, Miss Stanhope.” Marcus settled into his pillows.
“Might you want your morning meal now, Captain?”
He wanted to grin, but didn’t dare. Not yet. He wanted her leery of his actions. Today would be entertaining, to be sure. “I’m quite certain the cook is preparing the meal as we speak. However, before that—” he scratched his prickly beard, “—I would like a shave, if you will.”
She shook her head. “Forgive me, Captain, but I don’t know how to shave a man. I was never given that opportunity and I fear my skill with a blade isn’t very good.”
Marcus froze. She had a point there. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to give her a knife at this time. “Understandable. So while we wait for the meal, why not begin cleaning my room? That will keep you busy for a while.”
Her gaze swept around the untidy area and she frowned. “As you wish.”
Marcus looked up at Gabe and nodded, silently assuring his friend all would be well. The other man backed out of the room and closed the door. Marcus wasn’t worried about being alone with a woman who had stabbed him. Not when the same weapon she’d used was inside the drawer of the small stand by his bed within arm’s reach.
As she slowly walked around his cabin picking up clothes that had been there for a few days, he studied her closely. Her hair still looked as if she threaded her fingers through the glorious mass, and her dress hung on her like it had done last night. When she bent, one hand held the bodice to her chest, and he wondered if her stays weren’t secured very well.
He drummed his fingers on the mattress. For certain her stays wouldn’t be tied properly. She didn’t have Mrs. Winters to assist with her dressing.
“Captain? Where would you like me to put these?”
He fastened his gaze on the clothes stacked in her arms. “Pile them on the floor by the door. When Gabe returns, I shall have him show you where the wash room is located so you can learn to do that chore.”
She did as instructed, then turned back to her duties. Silence lasted a few minutes as she moved around the room. When she’d first walked in, she’d been tired, but now it seemed as if her eyes were wide awake. Color bloomed on her cheeks. He’d give anything to know her thoughts right now.
Huffing, she stood straight and planted her hands on her hips as she glared at him. “Captain, do you have to watch me the whole time? Isn’t there something else you can do?”
He folded his arms across his chest, careful not to touch his stab wound. “I enjoy watching you, Miss Stanhope.”
“You make me uncomfortable.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps that’s why I’m enjoying myself.”
Growling, she arched an eyebrow. “Captain, please. Can you not look elsewhere? What if you read a book or something? Or better yet, close your eyes and try to get more sleep.”
“And have you attempt to kill me again? I think not, Miss Stanhope.”
“I’m not going to kill you,” she whispered.
“No?” He rubbed his scruffy chin. “Why don’t I believe you?”
She let out a noisy sigh and walked to the side of his bed. “When I thought I had killed you and was locked in that tiny room for three days, I did a lot of thinking. Anger and panic had driven me to do what I thought was the best course of action at the time. My father’s death had put me in dire straits, and I feared for my own safety with you—a highwayman.” She breathed slower and ran her fingers through her hair. “I was only trying to defend myself. I didn’t want to kill you, I assure you.”
Although her words sounded sincere, he still couldn’t trust her. She’d been a chameleon the first time, and he was certain she’d turn back into the devil’s daughter again.
He patted the space beside him on the bed. “Tell me about your father and why you think you’re in such dire straits.”
Her throat constricted as if she swallowed hard. Bright blue eyes widened as she switched her attention to the spot he indicated on the bed, then to his face. She gave him a hesitant nod and sat closer to the edge than to him, of course.
“When my father was sent to New York to work with the Royal Navy, he arranged for me to live with my aunt and uncle. My mother had just died, and since I was only twelve, I still needed a guardian. Father sent my uncle money to care for me, but the year before he planned to return, it didn’t come. I wore second-hand gowns or my aunt would make them herself. We couldn’t afford for me to have any sort of etiquette lessons whatsoever, so my aunt taught me all I know.”
Marcus had disliked her father the first time he’d met the man and now knew why. Obviously, the older man didn’t care one whit about his daughter. Only power a
nd prestige mattered. So much like Marcus’ own sire. Perhaps it was a good thing Isabelle didn’t know the truth about the Commodore. Still, Marcus couldn’t show her how the sad story softened his heart… if only just a fraction of an inch. “I think your aunt did a remarkable job.”
She smiled, and even if it wasn’t full, her eyes darkened. “Thank you.”
Her gaze swept over his face before dipping to his chest, bare except for the white bandage around his middle. Color flared across her cheeks again as her attention jumped back to his eyes. He tried not to grin.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway, after Father died and the debtors mailed me threatening letters, I waited to hear from a solicitor to tell me if I still had an inheritance. His valet who had survived your attack told me your men had confiscated all of my father’s belongings and his valuables. They were supposed to be my inheritance.”
Marcus tightened his fists. The lying valet told her that? The deceitful Commodore had nothing of value, save for the miniature Marcus found of Isabelle. “I hate to disagree with your father’s valet, but I assure you, I didn’t take anything of value from your father, or any of the passengers besides correspondences from the Royal Navy. That’s the only thing I’m looking for. I don’t care for their expensive heirlooms.”
Her forehead crinkled and she frowned. “But Father’s valet saw you.”
“I suppose it’s his word against mine, but I promise, the Commodore had nothing of value in his trunks.”
Her gaze dropped to her lap as her eyes misted.
“Miss Stanhope? What of his solicitor in New York? Why did he not see to settling your father’s estates?”
She shrugged. “After several months had passed and I heard nothing, I decided it was time to sail to New York to find out what had happened to his money.”
He laid his hand on top of hers folded together on her lap. “For your sake, I hope you discover what happened so you will be able to pay off his debts.”
“Thank you, Captain Hawk.”
She moved to stand, but he slipped his hand around her legs to hold her in place next to him on the bed. “Miss Stanhope, my offer still stands to assist you with a solicitor.”
“Indeed? Why? I mean… I nearly killed you.”
“Yes, you did, and I should be unforgiving at this moment, but I’m a man of my word. I did promise the other day I would help, and I will.”
Sighing, she rested a hand on his chest. Fire ignited inside him that had nothing to do with his injury. The tenderness displayed in her eyes and the softness of her touch told him of her feelings.
“Oh, Captain. I don’t know what to say.”
“No words are necessary, my dove.” He gave her a rakish grin. “Especially when you could show your appreciation by giving me a kiss.”
Her body stiffened and she quickly pulled her hand away. “I… I don’t think that’s proper, Captain.”
“It doesn’t have to be a passionate kiss like we shared the other day. A little peck on the mouth will be sufficient.” He rubbed his hand slowly along her leg. “Just enough to show me your appreciation.”
This time when she swallowed, her gulp was loud. He nearly laughed. Instead, he stared into her wide blue eyes and waited for her decision.
* * * *
Isabelle couldn’t breathe. For the life of her, she couldn’t move off the bed, either. Hawk’s tenderness and kindness surprised her. She was his prisoner, and yet he promised to assist her. Indeed, he could have killed her by now and not had a second thought about it.
She should thank him, even as no more than a means of self-preservation, but with a kiss? She couldn’t possibly put her mouth on his again. Not after memories of the other evening invaded her senses every minute of the day, only growing worse now.
If she did bestow a kiss upon him, would he want more? Would he trap her in his embrace and not let her go since they were on his bed? She glanced to his bandages. Hopefully, he was as weak as he’d been yesterday. With as much blood as he’d lost, overpowering him wouldn’t be a problem this time.
Taking a deep breath for courage, she leaned forward, focusing on his mouth. Curse him, because those lips had tempted her since they met. She loved the way his mustache only enhanced his mouth. His smile relaxed, but he didn’t try to meet her halfway.
The closer she moved, the better she could see his eyes. Gray and very expressive. Oh, good heavens. Why did he have to be so handsome?
When she pressed her lips against his, she nearly sighed aloud. They were as gentle as she remembered. Slowly, his lips moved against hers in a sweet kiss while his hand stroked her knee. The urge to relax against him became overwhelming, so she pulled away before she could follow her instincts.
A smile stretched across his face. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
She quickly stood on shaky legs. “No, not at all.”
With her heart threatening to jump up her throat, she turned back to her chores. Cleaning wasn’t foreign to her since her aunt and uncle didn’t have many servants, but picking up after a man was, especially one so handsome, was extremely unfamiliar.
She grabbed an empty bucket and stuffed the used bandages in it. Every time her fingers brushed against dried blood she winced. What had she been thinking to apologize for stabbing him? In reality, he was still the reason she was penniless and going to a foreign place. Yet, he’d given her a glimpse of his kindness, and it surprised her that his heart wasn’t as black as she’d first thought.
His gaze followed her. Even if she couldn’t see, she felt it by the way warmth tingled across her skin, and the butterflies jumped in her stomach. Not paying attention to what she was doing, she dropped what was in her hand and bent to retrieve it. Immediately, her bodice fell away from her chest and she placed her hand over it.
Behind her, Hawk’s voice rumbled deep with a laugh. “My dear, Miss Stanhope. You’re trying harder to keep yourself together than you are cleaning my room.”
She huffed and turned toward him. “Pray tell, what would you have me do? I told you yesterday the dress was too large.”
“Should I assume your stays are not fastened correctly?”
Heat flooded her cheeks and she gasped. “What an impertinent thing to ask.”
“You forget, my dear, I’m a highwayman and once a pirate. I know things like this.” He laughed and motioned his arm. “Come and I’ll assist you since Mrs. Winters cannot.”
Her limbs weakened and the bucket in her hands dropped to the floor. “I will not!”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I fear you’ll be fighting with your dress most of the day and not be able to do your chores in a timely manner.”
Groaning with displeasure, she whirled around to prove she could work without messing with her bosom. After five minutes with trying to work with one hand, she surrendered.
She walked to his bed. “Fine, I’ll allow you to assist me.” She presented her back. As she unlaced the bodice to loosen the material, her fingers shook. Hating what she had to do next, she bit her bottom lip and shrugged the gown down her shoulders until he could tie the stay’s laces together. Tightly, she held the bodice to her chest and prayed his hands only stayed on her back.
He shifted on the bed before calloused fingers brushed her skin, pushing her long hair over one shoulder. As he tugged at the laces, his breath fanned her flesh, making goosebumps rise. She closed her eyes and prayed he’d hurry.
The stays tightened around her, and thankfully he kept his hands on her back, but when he finished, he didn’t pull away. He gently rubbed her shoulders and neck. She waited, and as minutes ticked by, his breath became hot against her skin.
He placed a kiss on her shoulder and her chest clenched. How could such a callous, cruel man prove so gentle? When he touched her with such toe curling softness she actually believed he cared. Had she misjudged him? Perhaps he was correct when he told her he was merely a soldier of a different cause.
“Isabelle?”
&nb
sp; His deep voice warmed her. “Yes?”
“You can move away from me now. I’m finished.”
She quickly jumped to her feet. Keeping her back toward him, she fastened her bodice, realizing her bosom did fit better now.
“I… I think I should see if the morning meal is ready.” Oh, why is my voice so shaky?
“As you wish,” he answered deeply.
She swallowed the cotton that had crept back in her throat and walked to the door. As she placed her hand on the knob, he called out to her. “Thank you, Miss Stanhope.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “For what?”
“The kiss.”
A blush heated her face again, so she nodded and quickly opened the door. The man Hawk referred to as Gabe stepped away from the wall, his dark eyes boring into her through his mask.
“I need to fetch the captain’s food.”
“Follow me.”
After passing through a few hallways, the clanking of pots alerted her to the kitchen even before she stepped inside. The cook was a portly fellow with a patch over one eye. When he looked up from the pot he stirred, his mouth hung open.
Gabe poked his elbow into the man’s belly. “The captain is waiting for his meal.”
“Is this—” the cook nodded toward her, “—Captain Hawk’s new cabin boy?”
She rolled her eyes, loathing that title.
“Yes, now snap to it,” Gabe commanded.
The cook scooped up a large spoonful of oatmeal into a bowl and set it on a tray. She glanced at the other few bowls ready to be filled and narrowed her gaze. Why weren’t there more? Hawk assured her he fed the other passengers.
“May I ask a question, sir?” She directed it to the cook and he nodded. “Have you already fed the other prisoners?”
“Course not. They’re gone.”
She gasped and swung around, aiming her glare at Gabe. “What? They aren’t here?”
“No.”
“Where are they?”
“You’ll have to ask the captain.” He pointed toward the hall. “So I suggest you quit squawking and get the food to him posthaste.”
Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) Page 5
