Regency Scandals: Touch Me, Tempt Me & Take Me Box Set

by Lucy Monroe

  Regardless, she had no intention of listing off the man’s altogether too pleasing attributes for him. “Mr. Drake, that is hardly an appropriate thing to discuss.”

  “Little coward.”

  It had not been a dream. That is exactly what he had called her the first night on ship. She smiled. He must find something quite pleasing about her as well. Remembering her current state, her smile changed to a frown. Perhaps he had found her desirable before, but surely he could not desire her now.

  “There is that look of worry again. You are biting your lip, Thea. Tell me what troubles you.”

  She affected a yawn. “You were right, Drake. I’m very tired. I think I’ll take a little nap here in the sun.”

  His amused look vanished. “Are you all right? Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you back to your cabin?”

  She could just imagine what the other passengers would think of such a display. “No, thank you. I am content to rest here for the time being.”

  “Very well. I will send Melly to you.”

  “No.” She felt like groaning at his look of implacability. “I am going to be resting. What possible harm can come to me?”

  He frowned. “With you, that is a question that leaves me shuddering with the possibilities.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I was not jesting.” He pulled the quilt from her legs. “Stand up.”

  He was going to make her walk back to her cabin. She could not stand the thought of spending the rest of the day alone in the airless room. “Drake, I--”

  He pulled her to her feet, effectively cutting off her protest. He then moved the chair back to a position near the dozing elderly woman. “Sit down.”

  Confused, she did as he commanded and watched in bemusement while he tucked the quilt around her again. Then he astonished her by laying his hand on the shoulder of the dozing woman.

  She opened her eyes. “Eh, what is it? Oh it’s you, Pierson.”

  “May I present Miss Selwyn? Thea, this is Lady Boyle.”

  Thea murmured, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  What was Drake doing?

  “I’m leaving Miss Selwyn in your care.”

  Thea fumed. He made her sound like a piece of baggage that needed tending. “I don’t need anyone to watch me nap, Mr. Drake.”

  He ignored her protest. “I will return later this afternoon to escort you back to your cabin.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. She could return to her cabin on her own when she wanted.

  He must have read her mind because he turned to Lady Boyle and said, “Do not let her out of your sight until I return.”

  Lady Boyle looked down her nose at Drake. “I’ve chaperoned six daughters through the Season and assorted granddaughters as well. Your young woman is safe in my care.”

  “I am not Mr. Drake’s young woman. I am just a passenger on his ship.” She fixed him with a gaze that dared him to disagree with her. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Drake?”

  He didn’t agree, or disagree. He merely raised one brow, shrugged, bid his good-byes and left. The sailor’s curse that went through her mind was a very potent one.

  Thea turned to face the older woman and forced a smile. “Thank you for keeping me company. However, you needn’t interrupt your nap on my account. Contrary to what Mr. Drake believes, I do not need a keeper.”

  “Who are you accusing of napping? I never nap.”

  Thea hid a smile. “Well, I do. I’m not completely recuperated from this awful seasickness and find myself dozing in the afternoon.”

  “The young have no stamina.”

  Thea didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Lady Boyle pulled knitting needles and yarn from a bag in her lap. Soon the clickety clack of her needles added to the sound of wind and sail surrounding Thea.

  “Pierson is a nice young man. You could do worse.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “He comes to your cabin daily to visit, my dear. His intentions are obvious.”

  “How did you know he came to see me each day?”

  Lady Boyle snorted with amusement. “Come, young woman, surely you realize that gossip aboard ship is worse than in a small village. I would venture to guess that every person down to the potboy knows of his visits.”

  Heat stole up Thea’s cheeks. “I know how it must appear to you all, but he only comes to see me because he’s concerned about my health as I’m a passenger on his ship.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, gel. A man such as Pierson does not visit a young woman unless he wishes to.”

  Thea had begun to suspect that very thing, but she doubted Lady Boyle was correct in Drake’s motives. The man had at first believed her to be a lightskirt.

  “I’m sure you are mistaken. He is quite wealthy. He told me so himself. He can look much higher than a woman of moderate means and few connections, like myself.”

  The older woman gave her a measuring glance. “I see you don’t know about his background. He ain’t exactly above reproach.”

  Thea did not want to hear anything derogatory and said repressively, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  Lady Boyle nodded and gave Thea a measuring glance. “Just as I thought. He should have told you himself. Now, it’s left to an old woman to break your heart. The young have no sensitivity to their elders.”

  Thea swung between wanting to know more about the enigmatic Drake and refusing to hear anything uncomplimentary said about him. Her curiosity won out. “I assure you, my heart is quite safe.”

  Snorting again, Lady Boyle shook her head. She clearly did not believe Thea’s avowal. “He’s the natural child of a nobleman who has never even tacitly acknowledged him.”

  What did she mean? Of course Drake was natural. Did Lady Boyle think that he should be unnatural in some way? Then something she had overheard Aunt Ruth discussing with the wife of a local plantation owner tickled at Thea’s memory. Natural child was the polite way of referring to a nobleman’s bastard.

  “His father has never acknowledged him?” That would be horrible for a man of Drake’s proud temperament.

  “No. Such a shame too. Pierson’s done well for himself and is accepted by most of polite society.”

  Thea had to agree. “His father is a fool.” She could not imagine a father not wanting to acknowledge the dynamic man she had come to know. “If he’s a natural child, how is he accepted so readily by society?”

  From what her mother had always said, society was unforgiving about things of that nature. In fact, on occasion, Thea had received a less than warm reception even on their small island. No one knew who her father was and not everyone believed the story her mother had concocted about early widowhood.

  “His mother is the daughter of a duke. She never married, but her father would not allow her to be ostracized. In fact, he showed favor to Pierson in every way. No one who wants the duke’s friendship dares ignore his daughter or grandson.”

  “The duke allowed Drake’s father to refuse to marry his mother?” It occurred to Thea that Drake had left her with someone who knew him quite well.

  “His mother was a sweet child. Too beautiful for her own good. Drake’s father dallied with her before announcing his engagement to another woman. She didn’t tell the duke she was with child until her erstwhile lover had married the other woman.”

  “I don’t understand. Wouldn’t a duke’s daughter make a more advantageous match than someone else?”

  Lady Boyle nodded. “In the normal way, yes. But Lady Noreen is the duke’s youngest daughter. When he married the others off, it became common knowledge that he tied up their portions in ironclad marriage settlements. Pierson’s father needed cash to repair his fortune. He married a very wealthy daughter of an earl who had control of her own fortune. Upon their marriage, that control passed to him.”

  Thea could not believe what she was hearing. Were all Englishman without honor, or was it merely her and Drak
e’s fathers? “That is terrible.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a very close friend of Drake’s family?”

  “He’s my great-nevvy.”

  The blush started in her toes. How could she have asked such common questions of Drake’s own aunt?

  Lady Boyle laughed. “You didn’t think he’d leave you with just anyone, did you, my dear? Pierson has shown more than average care for you this journey. I wouldn’t be surprised if the announcement for your betrothal was made before the end of the season.”

  “But I don’t want to get married,” Thea blurted out.

  “That explains your age.” The other woman’s assessing glance made Thea squirm. “You’re too lovely to be a spinster for lack of offers. Though, living on a heathen island like you did, might explain it as well. For all that you lived with Ashby and Ruth Merewether.”

  The woman knew a great deal about her as well. Gossip was rife aboard ship.

  “I cannot believe that you would be content with a spinster raised on a heathen island as the wife of your nephew.”

  Lady Boyle put her knitting away and settled back to view the scenery. “It has always been my experience that Pierson gets what he wants and he obviously wants you. No use his family putting up a ruckus about it.”

  Perhaps he did want her, but Thea doubted very much it was for his wife.

  ******

  “Aunt Josephine, it appears you have worn Miss Selwyn out with your chatter.”

  Thea’s head listed to one side, her eyes closed in sleep. The softened features of her face enhanced the aura of vulnerability that she tried so hard to hide. She wanted him to believe that she needed no one and could take care of herself. He knew better.

  He was not convinced that her near miss the first day they had met had been an accident. The facts spoke for themselves. For barrels that size to topple, it would have required a very strong man pushing them. That made it a purposeful act of aggression against Thea. Considering her vocal views against slavery, it was not a far fetched scenario.

  He did not scrutinize his feelings of relief that she had insisted on sailing with him. He knew only that he was glad she was safely away.

  “She dozed off a quarter of an hour ago.” Lady Boyle stood and shook out her skirts. “I’m returning to my cabin for tea and a game of cribbage with Mrs. Coombs.”

  “Thank you for staying with her.”

  His great-aunt nodded acceptance of his thanks. “She’s a delightful gel. Not at all put off by your birth you know.”

  Drake’s hand that rested on the top of Thea’s chair tightened. “You told her?”

  “Of course. You’ve already compromised her beyond redemption. She has no choice but to marry you. The gel at least had the right to know what she was getting into.”

  Drake wanted to hit something. Anything. “I have not compromised her.”

  “How do you think your visits to her cabin look to the passengers on board, nevvy?”

  “I don’t bloody well care.”

  “Perhaps not. But, I’m bound Miss Selwyn will, particularly when they refuse her admittance to their houses or word of this gets back and she is not extended vouchers to Almack’s.”

  Had he done that to her? “But her maid has always been present on my visits. I behave as chaste as a bloody eunich when I’m with her.”

  “Are you telling me you don’t want to marry the gel?”

  His aunt had a way of focusing on the important and dismissing the mundane.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you had best decide soon.” With that the older woman turned and walked away, her skirts swishing her disapproval with every step.

  Marry Thea? He had always planned to marry a lady high in the ton. A woman above reproach that would prove to his father and everyone else in the ton that Drake was not beyond the pale. That he was worthy of recognition.

  True, the one serious relationship he had carried out with a woman of quality had ended badly. He had a much more cynical view of women and marriage in the Polite World now. It was a business arrangement between two interested parties. That is how he intended to handle his own marriage. After this trip, he would have enough money to buy and sell most of his peers. Although the ton made a pretense of turning their nose up at blunt, Drake knew that his would buy him a more than respectable wife. It would buy him a bloody paragon.

  He didn’t want a paragon, though. He wanted Thea and her virginal innocence dictated he possess her only within the bounds of matrimony.

  The wind picked up and Thea shivered in her sleep. He bent down and lifted her, quilt and all, into his arms. Though her eyes were closed, her face wore a small frown. She must be dreaming about something unpleasant.

  ******

  Thea paced her cabin while Melly slept like the dead in her narrow bed. It was late, but she could not sleep.

  Drake was avoiding her.

  The only time she had seen him the past three days had been at dinner, he had been polite to her, but that was all. He did not offer to walk her about on deck, nor did he speak much to her after his initial inquiry about her health.

  Had his aunt’s words destroyed their friendship? Thea wanted to tell him she did not care a fig for society’s scrutiny, but did not know how to without admitting she had been feigning sleep during that incredibly embarrassing conversation between him and his aunt.

  Not that she had had an opportunity to speak to him alone.

  There was no opportunity to do anything alone aboard ship. She felt she would have a bout of sickness again, this very minute, if she did not get out of the cabin. Drake had told her not to walk on deck alone, but surely it could not matter at night when no one was there to see her, and she was desperate to get out under the stars.

  She hastily pulled on a gown of dark gray wool. Aunt Ruth had insisted Thea pack it, saying she had no clothes suitable for England’s climate. From what Lady Upworth said in her letters, Thea’s muslin and India Cotton gowns were all the rage right now. She had not wanted to hurt Aunt Ruth’s feelings, however. So she brought the gown. It was two sizes too large and years out of fashion, but it would serve its purpose.

  Carrying her shoes, she stealthily let herself out of the cabin and closed the door behind her. She tiptoed down the corridor, not wanting anyone in the neighboring cabins to know what she was about. When she reached the door to the deck, she slipped on her shoes and made her way outside.

  The fresh air and freedom felt wonderful. She hugged herself and took a deep breath of the salty air. Moonlight reflected off the water giving an enchanting feel to the night. The sea stretched on and on, making the ship that had appeared quite large in her harbor feel miniscule.

  Skirting the stairway that led to the passenger deck, she walked toward the part of the ship most of the passengers ignored. Passing the entrance to the engine rooms, she wondered if she would ever get the chance to see the steam engine in motion. The door to the sailor’s quarters was ajar and loud snoring rumbled through the opening. She skirted by.

  Neat coils of rope rested at the base of the main mast and a bar used for lifting the hatches lay next it. Someone would be in trouble for leaving it out. She ran her hand along the smooth surface of the mast, amazed that such a tall pole would stand securely. Stopping to look up, she soaked in the sight of huge white squares billowing against the night sky.

  No wonder Whiskey Jim had said that there was nothing so easy on the eyes as the look of a sailing ship at night.

  She also liked the quiet and relative privacy night offered. The skeleton crew that made up the night watch were barely visible in their positions around the ship.

  She was preparing to move on when the strong odor that often accompanied sailors alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Turning to greet the sailor and ask how quickly the ship was traveling, she was caught completely unawares when he grabbed her arms from behind.

  Reacting instinctively, she twisted her body. She freed o
ne arm and elbowed her attacker. Still weak from her seasickness, her blow had little affect on the dirty man. He grunted, but didn’t loosen his hold. He yanked her toward him, trying to secure her free arm and she screamed.

  “Help. I’m being attacked. Somebody, please help—“

  Her shouts were cut short when a smelly hand slammed over her mouth and nose. Frantic, she fought his hold. She needed air. She bit him. Hard.

  He yanked his hand away from her face and she sucked in desperately needed air.

  “You’ll pay for that, you bleedin’ tart.” He squeezed her and she felt as if her ribs were cracking.

  She kicked her legs back, satisfied when her heel connected with his shin and his hold loosened infinitesimally. She kicked again with all her might and tried to squirm from his grasp while she attempted to pull enough air into her lungs to shout for help again.

  He started dragging her toward the side of the ship. “We’ll see if you like fightin’ with the sharks more’n you like fightin’ with me.”

  He was going to throw her overboard.

  Terror lent her strength and she managed to break his hold on her arm. She swung her fist upward and connected with the underside of his jaw. He swore and staggered. Kicking his kneecap, she twisted violently once again. This time, she broke from his arms. She dropped to the deck and rolled toward the main mast.

  “Help me.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded weak and breathless. She could not rely on being rescued.

  Her fingers closed around the iron bar she had seen earlier. Thank you, God.

  Her attacker grabbed her feet and started dragging her toward the side of the ship again. Taking a firm grip on the bar, she swung with all the strength she could muster. The bar came around in a perfect arc and connected with the villain’s shoulder. He howled in pain and dropped her legs.

  The sound of running feet told her that help was on its way. Her attacker must have heard as well, because he took off in the direction opposite from the running feet.

  She lay on the deck, panting. Her entire body ached from the confrontation. She blessed the negligent sailor who left the iron bar out and Whiskey Jim for teaching her how to handle drunken seamen.