by Cheryl Howe
“He was only arranging my hair, Nolan.” With her fingertips, she touched his cheek, and then his lips.
He let go of her as if he could no longer stand the contact, but the fierce lines around his mouth softened. He gently removed the rest of her hairpins, obviously taking great pains not to pull her hair again. “He was just ‘arranging your hair’ like I was just ‘trying to comfort you’ last night.”
Jewel forced herself to relax, though he pulled his fingers through her hair and obliterated any signs of Parker’s neat creation. “You did comfort me.”
Nolan smiled, but it was tight and cynical. “No, sweetheart—I fucked you.” He picked up a ribbon from the table. With a hand on her shoulder, he turned her so he could tie it. She glanced sideways in the mirror. He’d missed whole chunks of hair in his haphazard efforts, but she dared not say a word about it.
“How can you be so crude? I love you, Nolan.”
She watched him in the mirror. Every line in his face tightened at her words. She wanted to close her eyes against what she couldn’t bear to see. He didn’t share her feelings, not in the least.
Before she could think of something to say in the awful silence, he rested his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her to face him. His expression was no longer angry, but grave. “I hope that’s true, Jewel…because I’ve arranged for us to be married this afternoon.”
“Married?” Her excitement rushed up like a fountain, obliterating what had just passed between them. What he had said to Parker upon entering the room came back to her. “How? Who will marry us?”
He dropped his hands, removing any hint of emotion from his face. “I will perform the ceremony. Parker will stand in for me as groom.”
Jewel lunged to hug him. That was why he’d spoken to her so harshly. He had wanted to ask her to marry him and was infuriated to find another man—Parker, of all people—with his hands in her hair. She realized how it must have looked. She kissed the small space above Nolan’s tightly tied neck cloth, planning to prove her devotion to him. “I’ll make you the best wife.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Jewel glanced up to find him stiff and unmoving. He didn’t even return her embrace. She pulled away, but continued to grip his arms. The vacant look in his eyes gave her the impression that, if she let go, he would be lost to her forever. “What is it? Is it Parker? We’re merely friends.”
Nolan stepped away. “I wish he were the problem. It’s me, I’m afraid. There is something you must know before we marry.”
Jewel wrapped her arms around her to stave off the chills creeping up her spine. The sensation of losing Nolan grew stronger. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to know. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m afraid it does. It’s about your father and our relationship. It changed drastically after our visit to you.”
She squelched the desire to defend herself. It was unfair of Nolan to hold the past against her. “Are you angry because I let my father hurt you? I didn’t know what he was going to do.”
Nolan sighed and rubbed his shoulder. “No. I don’t want you to feel responsible. I’m going about this all wrong. Sit.” He gestured to the bed with his upturned palm.
She sat hesitantly, feeling as fragile as glass. He rubbed his bottom lip with his index finger, while looking through her. Perhaps she had turned as transparent as the oval window at her back. The man who had lain with her, adored her on this very bed, didn’t appear to recognize her—nor she him.
“I killed your father,” he blurted, his words delivered like a blow.
Jewel could only blink. Her hands grew numb. “I don’t understand,” was all she could mumble. But she feared she did understand.
All those years ago, when her father had given her the map for safekeeping, she’d hardly thought about Nolan. He’d been the enemy, the reason she wasn’t able to leave with them to find the map. When he’d walked into the Quail and Queen five years later, she no longer saw the shaggy boy who had challenged her father in desperation to leave his crew, but a gentleman in buff breeches and blue coat who came to her rescue. Of course, she had suspected briefly that Nolan had done in her father, but she had easily convinced herself otherwise.
His features remained stony even as her expression must have shown the frantic direction of her thoughts. He perched on the desk’s edge, unmoving, revealing nothing of his feelings. “I was a member of Bellamy’s crew. An involuntary member, if you remember. I led a mutiny. I won; Bellamy lost. He was sentenced to death, and I became captain in his place.”
His tone was sickeningly icy. He acted as if he were speaking about the position of the sun rather than the death of a man Jewel had never really known but who had still been her father. Had Nolan any remorse? He certainly hinted at none. Nolan knew how many childish dreams she’d vested in her father—probably unfounded, true, but that didn’t make his desertion any less painful or Nolan’s words any less cruel. Why had he decided to tell her this gruesome tale now?
“Who sentenced him to death?” she asked, fearing she knew the answer but still hoping to whisk away the black dusk settling over what she’d thought would be the start of a bright new life.
“I did.” Nolan straightened, and then came to stand in front of her. “Do you want to be married in that?”
She glanced down at her dress, the green one, the one she’d thought was Nolan’s favorite. It no longer held any pleasure for her. She didn’t want to be married in it. She hated it. When she glanced up at his cold, blue eyes, the same chill swept over her skin. “I need some time…to think.”
He folded his arms in front of him. “No. Time to think would definitely be a mistake. We’ll be married within the hour. That should be long enough for you to compose yourself.” He turned and strode to the door.
Jewel jumped to her feet, her fists clenched. Fury she didn’t even know she possessed welled inside her. The man who faced her was not the same who had shared her bed last night—and if he were, he’d played a merry game at her expense. “No, I don’t need time to think. I’m not marrying you. I don’t even know who you are.”
He stood stiff, daring her with his gaze to strike him. “You know exactly who I am. I’m the same man who fought your father for his freedom in an alley behind the Quail and Queen. I lost that time. Later, I won. I didn’t do it to hurt you. Just the opposite, but I don’t expect you to understand. If you recall, I tried to keep my distance from you from the start.”
She turned away from the indignant curl of his lip and tight line of his jaw. Hitting him became the furthest thing from her mind. She couldn’t even dare to look at the remote stranger who had replaced the man she had mistakenly thought she loved. “Well, what were you thinking when you came to get the map from me?” She wanted to ask him what he was thinking last night when he’d made love to his victim’s daughter, but his crude summation of the event had already told her.
“I was retrieving my property. The map belonged to me. It always did.” His bitter tone warned her that his stance hadn’t softened in the least. In fact, he was becoming angrier. Jewel thought of the young British guard she had killed. Having to face his mother or sister would easily tear her in two. If he had a child—and she prayed he was too young—the guilt would be suffocating. The very idea that she might have forced some little boy or girl to endure the loneliness and want she had, crippled her with remorse. A man who could do such a thing, and then deliver the news with such cold detachment, couldn’t be the Nolan she thought she knew. He must have some explanation. He must. “How could you face me?”
“I didn’t invite you on board my ship. You stowed away and continued to insinuate yourself into my life when I wanted nothing to do with you. Now you’re stuck.”
Again, the truth clawed at her sense of righteous betrayal. She had forced him to see her as a woman when he was bent on ignoring her. Her desperation to have him at all costs had included taking the advice of a disreputable old pirate whose only experie
nce with women undoubtedly came from prostitutes. “I didn’t know. You didn’t tell me the truth. If I had known—”
“Nobody else gets the truth, Jewel. Why should you? You wanted me to be some kind of hero, but I’m just a man. You played on my needs and I played on your vulnerability. We used each other, and now we have to pay for our mistakes.”
She backed away from him. He’d bedded her, knowing he had murdered her father. He’d thought about it.
A flush crept across Nolan’s face, and a vein in his neck indicated his rapid pulse. “You will marry me,” he said. His voice was frighteningly calm in contrast to his appearance. “And believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“I won’t marry you. You’re a killer!” That he obviously didn’t care for her in the least made last night all the more vile.
“So are you.” His fists were clenched.
She shrank from his accusation. “Get out. Leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with you ever again.”
He stalked up behind her, and she felt his breath on her neck. After a pause, he said, “I’m sorry I said that. It’s not true. You were defending yourself and me.” He placed a soft hand on her shoulder, and she jerked away. His voice grew harsh again. “Don’t be a little girl, Jewel. I can’t leave you alone. You could be carrying my child. I won’t abandon my child as Bellamy did his.”
Jewel turned, this time, provoked enough to strike him. “You have no right to put yourself above my father.”
Nolan didn’t move a muscle. He almost looked to be anticipating a blow. “Fine. I’ll never speak of him again. But my child won’t be born a bastard. And if you would stop being so bloody selfish, you would realize why we must marry. Today.”
“You didn’t marry your other whores. Why bother with me?”
His smile was a strained, half-mad grin. He spoke words she didn’t expect. “They didn’t make me want to explode from just a touch of their sweet fingers. With them, I was able to control myself better.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. She turned away, unable to look into his smirking features any longer, but he grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. His smile faded. “I know you’re not a whore. I took your virginity, and I know I have to suffer the consequences of what I did. Think of the child you might be carrying and you’ll see there are no other choices. And think of your own rep—”
She pulled away from him, and he let go without the least resistance. He was right. Her mother’s shame came back to her in waves. And even more powerfully, her own shame. She wouldn’t risk laying the burden of her foolishness on a child she might be carrying—not if she didn’t have to. She should be grateful to Nolan for offering marriage. Unfortunately, her hurt didn’t allow her to be. “How do I know you won’t leave us if we become too much trouble?”
“Never,” he swore. “Once we’re married, I’ll never desert you. I’m committed to the revolution, and I plan to fight, but I’ll give you my name and my financial support. You and our children will be provided for always.” He fell silent, waiting for her answer. Abruptly, he shoved his hands into his pockets. He smiled without humor. “And who knows, perhaps that’s good. With the war on, there’s a chance my ship will be lost at sea.”
Jewel raised her chin. Over the years she’d learned to hold her head up even if her heart was breaking. “Well, at least there’s something to hope for.”
Nolan’s smile faded. “I’ll expect you on deck within the hour, prepared to become my wife.” He turned and headed for the door. When he paused, Jewel jerked her head up. Why did he still linger in the room? They’d both already said more than either wanted to hear. She forced the hurt on her face into a mask of indifference. She was sure she failed miserably, but a life with Nolan would surely give her many chances to practice. “As my wife, you belong to me. I won’t stand for another man trespassing on what is mine. Be forewarned—unless you want another death on your conscience.”
The moment Nolan shut the door, she snatched the discarded brush from the desk, ready to attack the tangles he’d created in her hair. Instead, she reared back her arm to hurl it, fantasizing the brush was a dagger and the door was Nolan’s broad-shouldered back. The door swung open, and she quickly clutched the brush to her chest.
“I want your hair down. I never want to see it up again,” Nolan commanded.
Jewel let the brush tumble to the deck with the rest of her wistful dreams. All her childhood fantasies had abruptly come to an end.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nolan studied the stiff couple standing before him, who looked almost as miserable as he felt. Parker stared at his feet. Considering the man was standing in as the groom, his efforts to avoid eye contact with the bride were valiant. But Parker needn’t have tried so hard. Jewel’s gaze drifted out over the sea. Deep sadness pulled at the corners of her eyes, betraying her broken heart. Maybe she was contemplating her options.
Nolan wouldn’t be too surprised if she chose to jump rather than marry him. Unshed tears created a crystal film over her green eyes. In her misery, those eyes shone like jewels, truly befitting the name Bellamy had requested for his daughter. Nolan wished he didn’t remember that particular anecdote at this particular moment.
Stray tendrils of hair he had missed in his rough efforts to pull it back whipped across her cheeks and blew into Jewel’s eyes. She didn’t bother to brush them from her face. Her unhappiness seemed to consume her. No doubt she hated him as much as he hated himself. Nolan stared up at the sky and winced. How dare the sun shine today?
He glanced at Wayland, who stood on Jewel’s right. The man had insisted on standing in for her father. When Bellamy Leggett’s name had been mentioned, Jewel turned a chalky shade of white. Nolan was sure he’d done the same, and had hastily agreed to Wayland’s request. More than enough ugly things had been said in anger for one day.
Wayland rested his hand on the long dagger in his waistband. “Are you sure this is official?” he asked.
Nolan returned his glare. “It is. You have my word of honor.”
Wayland made a noise in the back of his throat. “A little late for that, isn’t it, lad?” he said under his breath.
Nolan took a step toward him. He had an image of strangling the stringy bastard’s neck, and it felt too good not to follow through. He needed a release from his tension, and Wayland was overdue for a good thrashing.
Jewel stepped between them. She held up a crumpled bouquet of herbs. In the other hand, she clutched a red silk scarf. “Let’s get this over with. Please.”
Nolan returned to his place. Wayland rearranged his knife as if itching to use it. Nolan would have loved to give him the chance, but he owed it to Jewel to make this painful charade quick. He glanced back to her. The dried herbs she clutched smelled of onions and salted pork. “Where did you get that?”
“The galley. Actually, Wayland found it for me. He thought I should have a bouquet.” She glanced at the old pirate and smiled weakly.
Nolan narrowed his gaze. It seemed even Wayland had managed to work his way back into her good graces. He gestured to the red scarf she clutched in her other hand. “No. That.”
“You left it in my cabin. I wanted to have it with me. Something borrowed.” She shrugged and studied her feet.
Nolan had carried the bit of silk since the moment she had snatched it from her bodice and handed it to him with the map. It must have dropped from his pocket when he had hastily peeled off his clothes last night. The cloth was a symbol of his desire for a woman he had dared not touch. For Jewel, the scarf was a reminder of her father. The idea chilled Nolan, the link of his downfall and Bellamy’s.
He cleared his throat. Jewel’s knuckles had gone bloodless, clutching the dried herbs, whose brittle leaves crumbled to the deck. This was one of the worst moments in four people’s lives and it was all his fault.
Parker shifted again, as if the deck had grown unbearably hot under his feet. Not only did he probably fear Nolan would
cut him down at any moment, he’d barely escaped matrimony to a very religious and dour young woman himself before they’d set sail—his father’s plan to settle him down. Nolan had stepped in and offered to take him as a crewman, and no doubt Parker was remembering the close call.
Jewel stood stiffly straight as she stared into the distance. Wayland showed his rotten teeth like a mangy mutt ready to pounce. Nolan didn’t have to see himself to know he appeared the scowling vulture, looming over them all. He likened himself to his father at the pulpit, preaching fire and brimstone. Only Nolan was the difficult path, not the salvation at the end.
He couldn’t even blame Bellamy for this miserable gathering. Nolan had done it all to himself. Telling Jewel about his awful part in her father’s death had been the right thing to do, but it should have been sooner. And he could have been kinder.
His curt delivery of the facts had been more to punish himself than her. When he’d begun to tell her how meeting her had changed him, had made him realize he must defeat Bellamy not only for himself but to protect her from his ever revealing she held the map, she’d blamed herself. He realized then that it would be like trying to make her take responsibility for a decision that belonged solely to him. Nor did he want her to know that her father would put her in jeopardy for his own selfish purpose.
After seeing her with Parker in such easy camaraderie, something he and Jewel could never share, he’d been a little crazy, a little desperate for her not to hate him. He’d perhaps feared he’d sway her to his side with some manipulation of the truth—or worse, a request for her mercy, something he didn’t deserve.
Of course, he needn’t have worried. There was never a good, safe way to tell your future bride that you’d killed her father. Nolan gritted his teeth. They all waited for him to start, but no one said a word. Despite the misery he was causing, he didn’t regret a thing. He wanted to marry Jewel. And that thought unleashed something in Nolan. Something he no longer had to fight. Had he been making things too difficult for himself?
