TOUCH ME

by Lucy Monroe

  Thea moved to sit on the edge of her bed, suddenly tired by the events of the day and the thought that a man had truly tried to kill her. She didn't have the energy to argue her certainty that the man she had seen was indeed her attacker. Drake followed her to the bed and sat next to her. She looked up at him and frowned. Surely he should not behave so familiarly in front of the other man. Word was bound to get back to his aunt.

  He winked at her and took her hand. He squeezed it and she felt strength return.

  She turned her gaze to the captain. "I have no doubt that the man I saw in the corridor was the villain who tried to throw me overboard."

  "Besides, what excuse would a seaman have for being in the passenger stateroom corridor? And why would he run when Thea screamed if he were not guilty?" Drake posed the questions and she warmed at the knowledge that he obviously believed her.

  The captain shrugged. "As to that, I couldn't say. I would like to think that my crew are not such a simple lot that the mere sight of a screaming woman would send them running."

  He tugged at the edges of his waistcoat. "Would you mind describing him to me?"

  "No, of course not, but first please take a seat." Having him hover above her made Thea nervous, and she involuntarily tightened her grip on Drake's hand.

  He rubbed his thumb along her palm and she felt comforted.

  The captain pulled the single chair away from the small table and sat down. Thea hid a smile at his correct posture. He was unlike any other captain she had ever met.

  However, as she began describing her attacker, she realized that the captain was intelligent and no doubt did know his crew as well as Drake had stated. He asked very pointed questions until she had described the villain with more detail than she thought she had remembered.

  "Did he have a tattoo or anything of that nature?"

  She tried hard to remember if that had been the case. She had seen the man for such a short time. "He had a gold earring, I think. Oh, and when he turned to run away, I noticed that his pants were ripped on the backside." She felt her face heat. "I don't think he was wearing any smalls."

  A spark of recognition gleamed in the captain's eyes.

  Thea leaned forward expectantly. "Who is it, sir?"

  "A bloody bounder who should have been tossed off the ship before now for slacking. Hartford P. Fox."

  Drake tensed next to Thea. "Who?"

  "The lazy good-for-nothing got caught sleeping on watch and was demoted from his position as second mate. I made him a regular sailor and sent him back to live in quarters again. It appears he's as disloyal as he is lazy."

  Relief washed over Thea. "Then he will be easy to find, won't he?"

  "Yes," said the captain.

  She turned to Drake. "You will allow me to question him, won't you? It's very important that I discover who hired him."

  "You aren't coming within ten feet of the man. Have you forgotten that he tried to throw you overboard?"

  She ignored Drake's glare and the officer's grunted agreement. "And I stopped him. There will be no danger. After all, you will be there and he will be bound, I am certain."

  She looked to the captain for confirmation. "He'll be put in chains the minute I get my hands on his worthless carcass," he assured her.

  She turned back to Drake. "There, you see."

  "No."

  "I must insist."

  "You may insist until your voice grows hoarse with it, but I won't allow you to be in danger."

  She tried to yank her hand from his, but he held tight. "You are not my lord and master, Mr. Drake, and I will not have you dictating my actions. I will speak to this villain, whether you like it or not."

  She probably should not have spoken so forcefully because Drake's manner became acutely intimidating. He leaned over her until she had to arch her neck to maintain eye contact. She could feel the angry heat of him, he was so close. "While you are on my ship, I am responsible for you."

  She swallowed. He certainly had an overweening sense of accountability. "Is that clear?"

  She nodded. He had made his stance perfectly clear, but that didn't mean she had to like it or submit. However, she didn't think that right now was the time to tell him so.

  "We'll find Fox and take him belowdeck for holding," the captain said. "I'll send word when we have him in custody."

  Drake acknowledged the captain's words without breaking eye contact with Thea. "Thank you, Captain."

  Thea heard the man get up and cross to the door and then leave, shutting it behind him. Still, Drake kept his gaze fixed on hers. "Explain to me why you are so determined to talk to the man yourself."

  She could no longer keep her secret. She had to have Drake's cooperation in questioning the villain, and he wouldn't give it as long as he still believed she'd offended one of the passengers aboard ship with her abolitionist rhetoric enough to incite revenge.

  "It began about six months ago, although it's possible that it has been going on longer. I did not become aware of the problem until recently and I've only had time to review the last six months of ledgers."

  As she spoke, Drake's gaze turned from angry intimidation to uncomprehending surprise. "Someone has been trying to kill you for six months?"

  She frowned. "Do not be melodramatic, Pierson. That is not what I am saying at all."

  "What the bloody hell are you saying then?"

  She opened her mouth to answer his question and the stateroom door opened.

  "Mr. Drake. What are you doing here with Miss Thea alone? It's not at all proper."

  Thea squeezed her eyes shut. "Melly, you are returned from your visit."

  "Yes, and it looks like I've arrived just in time, too. What your sainted mother would say if she saw you right now, I cannot tell."

  Drake stood and pulled Thea to her feet with the hand he kept locked firmly in his own. "She would undoubtedly wish us happy."

  Thea's gasp of outrage was drowned out by her maid's exclamation of delight. "I knew you were a man of honor, sir. I told myself, Melly, Mr. Drake wouldn't come visiting and wreaking havoc with the young miss's reputation without he had courting on his mind."

  This time Thea succeeded in removing her hand from Drake's. "Stop right now. Melly, I am not engaged to Mr. Drake."

  "Of course you are. He said so, didn't he?"

  "No, he didn't. He made a comment about my mother wishing us happy, which given the nature of the implication, she was not likely to have done." Thea glared at both Drake and Melly. "Mama did not believe that there was anything resembling bliss in the wedded state."

  Melly snorted. "The poor thing had her own reasons for feeling as she did, but it's every mother's dream to see her daughter wed to the right gentleman."

  "It wasn't my mother's dream and I cannot believe that you have deluded yourself into believing it was."

  Melly looked undaunted. There were definite disadvantages to having a maid who was more family than servant. "Deluded I may be, but I'm that happy you're going to marry Mr. Drake. I am."

  Thea very nearly gave in to the urge to scream. She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed both her maid and the irritating Drake with a look that said she meant to be listened to. "I am not going to marry Mr. Drake."

  When Melly opened her mouth to speak, Thea put up her hand to forestall her. "I mean it. I will not marry."

  Drake still looked entirely too pleased with himself to be convinced, but Melly's sullen expression said that she'd finally accepted Thea's statement.

  She sat back down on her bunk. "There is a perfectly good reason why Mr. Drake is here."

  They were close enough to port that Thea no longer saw the need for subterfuge. If she told Melly the truth, or at least the truth about the attack, her maid would cease hounding her about marrying Drake and the propriety of them being caught in a room together.

  Drake watched the emotions flitting across Thea's face. After what had transpired between them in his stateroom, how could she deny that she belong
ed to him?

  He put the thought aside for later because what he wanted now was the continuation of the explanation she had begun when her maid entered the stateroom. He sensed that he was going to get just that. So he waited.

  Thea bit her lip, a sure sign she was thinking. It occurred to Drake that she might not tell the whole story to her maid. He bit back his frustration.

  "The other night I couldn't sleep. So I decided to take a short walk on deck and explore the ship a little more."

  Melly's eye's widened. "Don't tell me you went on deck alone at night. Why, it isn't decent. What would your sainted mother have said?"

  Drake didn't have a clue, but he wished the woman, sainted or not, had not said quite so much on the subject of marriage to her daughter.

  Thea waved her hand, dismissing Melly's comment. "The thing is…" She let her voice trail off, and then taking a deep breath, she plunged on. "When I was on deck, someone attacked me and tried to throw me overboard."

  Melly's face turned ashen and she collapsed on to the side of her bed as if her knees had given way. "Someone tried to throw you overboard?" She glared at Drake. "How could you let something like this happen? A respectable woman should be safe walking the decks of your ship. I've a good mind to, to…"

  She clearly didn't know what she had a good mind to do, and Drake had no intention of giving her time to figure it out. The maid acted more like a mother hen than a servant. "Your mistress had no business on deck alone, particularly at night."

  "As if that had anything to do with it. Miss Thea has a mind of her own, and that's a fact. It's no excuse for some blackguard to come along and try to do her harm."

  "I didn't mean to imply that it was."

  Thea drew his attention with a long-drawn-out sigh. "Listen, you two. Arguing about it isn't going to solve anything. It is imperative that I have the chance to interrogate the villain before he jumps ship and disappears altogether."

  Melly shivered. "It seems to me if the blackguard disappeared, we'd all sleep safer in our beds."

  "Not necessarily," Drake put in. "We have to assume the man attacked Thea on purpose. Until he's caught, she won't be safe."

  "But no one would want to hurt Miss Thea! There's no reason to believe the rogue wouldn't have attacked any unattended lady he came across. There are wicked men in this world, Mr. Drake, that care nothing for a woman's virtue."

  The look she gave him implied she just might consider him one of those wicked men. He glared at both her and Thea. "Your mistress is the one refusing to do the honorable thing, not me," he felt compelled to say.

  "Nonsense." Thea bounded off the bed and stormed over to him. "Both my honor and yours are untarnished. I won't have you implying otherwise to my maid."

  He met Thea's gaze with a knowing look and she had the grace to blush. She turned away and paced to the other side of the stateroom. "Let us not get off subject. We are here to discuss apprehending the villain, not my unmarried state."

  "Actually, I'm here to see that you are dressed properly for dinner. We're dining at the captain's table tonight, and I thought you'd want time to prepare yourself. All this stuff about an attacker is news to me."

  Thea gripped her hands together and seemed to be praying for patience. "Be that as it may, Melly, we are discussing the unfortunate incident on deck now and I would appreciate your cooperation."

  "I wasn't there," Melly said, looking confused. "I don't know what I could add."

  "You were there the day we came aboard. Did you notice any of the people from home talking to the ship's crew when they came aboard to see the steam engine?"

  "You think someone from the island stole aboard the ship and attacked you?"

  "Sacre bleu. Melly, just answer my question."

  "I don't remember. Everything was in such a whirl with you wanting to sail so quick like."

  Thea nodded. She rubbed her temples. "Thank you. I'm sorry I was short with you. It's been a trying time."

  "Do you need a headache powder, Miss Thea, or some of Mr. Drake's ginger tea?"

  Thea grimaced at the mention of the ginger tea. "No, thank you, Melly."

  Drake walked up behind Thea and placed his hands on her shoulders. "It's going to be all right. I won't let anyone hurt you, Thea."

  "Can you stop them from hurting Uncle Ashby?"

  She whispered the comment, but he still heard. He hated the broken fear in her voice. Thea was not afraid for herself, but for the man she called uncle.

  He turned her to face him, ignoring Melly's sounds of protest about appropriate behavior when two people were not engaged. Locking his arms behind her back, he pulled her close. "Let me help you, Thea."

  She nuzzled into his neck and just held on for a long moment. Finally, she pulled back a little. "Yes. Please, help me, Drake. I don't want Uncle Ashby hurt."

  Melly stood up and walked to the door, her face the color of boiled lobster. "It's no good being a chaperone when your presence doesn't hinder such familiar behavior."

  She went out, shutting the door loudly.

  He swung Thea into his arms and carried her to the chair. It was safer than the bed. He sat down and settled her on his lap.

  She sighed. "She's disappointed in me."

  He knew she referred to her maid. "Does that bother you?"

  "Yes. Melly has always been there, and though she insists on referring to herself as a maid, she's so much more."

  He understood. Thea had a tender heart toward those she loved, and she loved the woman who had helped her mother raise her. "Why is she disappointed?"

  "Because I won't act like a proper lady and marry you."

  "Well, there is one way you can make her happy."

  She frowned. "I don't think I can do that at the cost of my own happiness, not even for Melly."

  "Are you so sure I would make you unhappy?" The thought wounded him in a way that he didn't even understand.

  Her eyes filled with uncertainty. "No."

  That was a start.

  "Tell me about Merewether."

  She bit her bottom lip.

  "Everything," he demanded, when he realized she was in all probability trying to decide how much to say.

  "Someone is pilfering from the shipping office in London. I can't tell by the books if they are actually stealing cargo or just money. I noticed the discrepancies and sent a letter to Uncle Ashby's nephew asking about them. He oversees the offices in London."

  When Drake nodded his understanding, she went on.

  "I never received an answer, but nevertheless went back through previous months' accounts. Once I knew what I was looking for, it was not hard to find."

  "Is that why you are going to England?"

  It certainly made sense. Thea was not the type of female to be tempted by the frivolous delights of the Season. She was, however, the type to take charge and go searching for the thief on her own.

  "Yes. You've got to understand, Drake. Uncle Ashby's health cannot stand the cold climate of England, much less the voyage. He was in bed a month when he and Aunt Ruth returned from their last visit."

  "Why didn't you hire Bow Street

  to investigate?"

  "What if it's his nephew? How will Uncle Ashby's heart take the blow?"

  Drake frowned. "He's a man, Thea. His heart will survive the blow."

  "I don't mean his feelings, I mean his heart. The doctors say it is weak. If he were to discover his nephew was stealing from us, he might have an apoplectic fit and die. He has quite a temper and it would hurt him, even though he is a man."

  "So, if it is the nephew, what are you going to do?"

  "I don't know. Make him resign from his position, I suppose, and hire someone more trustworthy."

  "Are you saying you aren't going to tell Merewether about this at all?"

  She stiffened in his arms. "Don't make it sound like I'm betraying him. I'm trying to protect him, like he protected my mother and me when we came to the island."

  He couldn't help
but admire her loyalty, even while wanting to curse at her independence. "If it is the nephew, your letter alerted him to the danger, and it looks like he's decided to deal with matters by getting rid of you."

  "Yes, but I'm not sure it is Uncle's nephew. Someone else could have read my letter. Someone else could be the thief."

  Not likely, but he didn't see the need to argue the point. "You know what this means, don't you?"

  She nodded. "The thief is in league with someone from home. At first, I thought it could have been a sailor taken on board Whiskey Jim's latest voyage from England, but you didn't pick up any more sailors in port, or passengers besides me. The man who tried to throw me overboard had to have been paid by someone."

  "The same person responsible for engineering the accident in the warehouse."

  "Exactly, and when that didn't work, they came aboard ship pretending an interest in your marvelous engine and hired that disreputable sailor to hurt me."

  "He tried to kill you."

  She didn't deny it.

  "That's why you want to question him, isn't it?"

  "Yes, I need to protect Uncle Ashby from whoever is in association with the thief."

  "How are you going to do that without alerting Merewether to the existence of the thief?"

  She fiddled with the top button on his shirt. In his haste to leave his room earlier, he had left off his cravat and now he could feel the delicate softness of her fingers against his throat. His body reacted instantly.

  She looked up at him with a startled expression. "Really, Pierson, this is not the time to be thinking of such things."

  He smiled at the prissy words spoken in a breathless voice. "You're right, but I have difficulty concentrating on anything else when you are near."

  She stilled her fingers and gazed into his eyes. "Really?"

  "Yes." How could she doubt it?

  "That's nice," she said.

  He bent his head and gently touched her lips with his own. She returned the pressure, allowing her arms to slide around his neck.

  He pulled his lips away a fraction of an inch from her mouth. "You taste so good, I'm always hungry for more."