by Lucy Monroe
******
The sight of Thea sprawled on the deck, her hand gripping a latch bar momentarily paralyzed Drake. What the bloody hell had been going on?
He dropped next to her. “Thea?”
She didn’t respond, her eyes stared past him as if searching for someone else.
He shook her slightly. “Thea. What happened?”
She moaned. “Drake?”
“Yes.” She was starting to scare him. Had she fallen and done injury to her head?
He wrapped his arms tightly around her and pulled her closer. “Tell me what happened.”
The latch bar fell from her hand, clanging against the deck. “Did you trip on the bar?” He would find the man responsible for leaving it out and deal with him personally.
“Trip? No, I didn’t trip.” She tipped her head back and looked at him. “Thank the sailor for me.”
“Thank him, for what? You aren’t making any sense.” And his patience was getting thinner by the minute.
“For leaving the bar there, of course.” Then she fainted.
Her head slumped against his shoulder. Picking up her limp body, he turned to the first mate. The seaman had been walking the deck with Drake when they had heard a loud curse. Not certain why he had felt instant dread at the sound, it was after all common enough to hear cursing aboard ship, Drake had taken off at a run. The first mate had followed him.
They had come upon Thea lying alone on deck and for a few minutes Drake had forgotten the curse. It had not been Thea’s voice he had heard. Not unless she made a practice of imitating the gruff timbre of a man.
“I think she was attacked. Alert the captain and search the ship.”
The seaman nodded. “Whoever the bloody bastard is, he’s probably made it back to his cabin by now, Mr. Drake.”
“Search anyway.”
“Aye, sir.”
Drake turned and headed toward the cabin Thea shared with her maid. What had she been doing on deck at night? Even Thea had to realize how dangerous it would be for a woman alone, the darkness a cover for perverse deeds.
He stopped in front of her door and Thea’s eyes opened. They filled with terror and she stiffened in his arms.
He tightened his hold on her. “It’s me, Thea. No one is going to hurt you.”
“Drake?”
He said, “Yes,” again for the second time in ten minutes.
She relaxed against him. “Thank God.”
He waited for her to produce the key for her door. She didn’t move. She just lay in his arms, her breathing much too shallow. Perhaps she had not locked the door. He tried the handle, but it did not move.
She roused a bit from her stupor. “The door is locked.”
“I see that.”
“I wanted Melly to be safe.”
Lucky Melly. “Do you have the key?”
“Oh. Yes.”
She fished around in the pocket of the voluminous gown she was wearing. When she found the key, rather than letting him release her, she leaned down and unlocked the door. He carried her inside the cabin and she shut the door behind them.
He set her on the bed and then lit the lamp. “I’ll wake your maid.”
“No.”
“Damn it. This is not time to worry about her rest.”
She gave him a small smile. “It will do no good. With that ginger tea of yours, she could sleep through a black squall.”
That answered how she had managed to leave her cabin undetected. Melly was much too protective to have allowed it under normal circumstances. He turned his back.
“Put on your nightrail.”
“Perhaps you should go first.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
He heard sounds of rustling fabric. Then the bed creaked. “You may turn around now.”
He did so and was struck by both the beauty and defenselessness of the woman sitting under the covers. She was afraid of nothing, but she was so small compared to a man. What had she been about, traipsing on deck alone at night?
“Start.”
She frowned at him. “Start what?”
“Your explanations. You can begin with what the bloody hell you thought you were doing walking on deck alone.”
CHAPTER SIX
I have taken Lady Upworth into my confidence about Thea. She has promised to help me leave England. It was a risk, but so is staying here. She thinks that I should wait until Thea is a little older to travel. I think she believes that Langley will relent. She does not say so, but she has a soft spot for her nephew. I cannot blame her. There was a time when I loved him too. No longer. I cannot bear to be in the same room with him. My son is now a year old and I have not seen him since last spring.
September 24, 1798 Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley
“Surely, that is not the most important issue at the moment.”
Drake glared at her. “Don’t bet on it.”
“What about my attacker? Shouldn’t you be trying to find him? Your other passengers could be at risk.”
His expression turned more forbidding, if that were possible. “My other passengers know better than to walk on deck alone at night.” He sat down on the edge of her bed and loomed over her. “Bloody hell. Even your stubborn, independent little brain had to realize that it would not be safe.”
She scooted back toward the wall, pulling the covers up to her chin. “Lady Boyle said that life aboard ship was like being in a small village.”
“She referred, I’m sure, to the spread of gossip. Not the friendliness or honesty of the people. We’ve picked up passengers in every port. For all you know, every man jack of them is a rake and rogue.”
“It wasn’t a passenger.”
“What?”
“It was a sailor.”
“You saw him? Why didn’t you say so? You can point him out.” The smile on his face was anything but friendly. “Then I’ll deal with him.”
She shivered at the implied threat in his voice. “I didn’t see him.”
“Then how can you be sure it was a seaman?”
“The smell.”
“The smell?”
“Yes.” She shifted under the blanket, trying to find a more comfortable position. Her entire body felt bruised. “Sailor’s have their own unique odor and unless you have passengers that go similar lengths of time without bathing and spend the majority of that time in the salty air, it was a sailor.”
He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes.
“I know sailors. I’ve been around them all my life.”
He still looked unconvinced. “Was he drunk?”
Remembering the man’s brute strength and steadiness on his feet, she shivered and shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“I guess you could tell that by his smell too?”
She glared at Drake. “As a matter of fact, his breath was too awful to have recently been cleansed with any sort of spirits.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Thea, every seaman on this ship knows that it’s worth his life to attack a female passenger. Even drunk, most of them would never think of it, much less act on the impulse.”
“Why isn’t it worth his life to attack a man?”
Drake looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “He would have no reason to attack a man.”
“Well, I didn’t think he had any reason to attack me either.” She moved again. There was simply no comfortable position. “Imagine wanting to throw a passenger overboard. He must be mad.”
Drake grabbed her shoulders in a painful grip. “He tried to throw you overboard?”
“I have enough bruises from tonight’s adventure. You needn’t add to them.”
He immediately loosened his hold, but he didn’t release her. “Explain.”
She nodded and began with the villain accosting her from behind, continuing until she had told Drake everything.
“He said somethi
ng about fighting with the sharks and dragged me toward the side of the ship.” She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted the salt of tears on her lips.
Drake brushed her cheeks with gentle fingers. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.”
Although, now that she had gone over the events again, she couldn’t help wondering if this incident and the accident at Merewether Shipping were related. She could not dismiss pertinent facts as coincidence. Since writing the letter to the London office regarding the discrepancies in the ledgers, she’d had two nearly fatal experiences. Her instincts were screaming that the incidents had something to do with her investigation.
“You know something.” His grip tightened. “Bloody hell. What is it?”
She winced and his fingers loosened again. This time he caressed her arms. “Sore?”
“Yes. I feel as if I’ve been tossed about in a runaway carriage.”
“You have experience being knocked around in runaway carriages?” A quizzical smile tilted the corner of his lips.
“Well, yes, actually. When I was fourteen. One of Jacob’s sons decided to play a trick on me and put a thorn under the harness of the horse when I was learning to take the leads.”
“What happened to Jacob’s son?”
“I never knew, but he didn’t sit in my presence for several days.”
Drake’s dark eyes glinted with amusement and she leaned into him, relaxing in the strength of his embrace. She felt safe.
“Don’t you think it strange that you’ve had two near misses so recently?” His words, so like her own thoughts, startled her. “Tell me what you know about what happened tonight.”
She wasn’t sure how to say what needed to be told, so she stalled while trying to marshal her thoughts. “I’m sure the villain who attacked me tonight was nowhere near the warehouse when that barrel fell down.”
Drake remained silent, his hand making a circular motion on her back. His silence wasn’t the relaxed, accepting kind however. She felt that with every rhythmic caress on her back, he was commanding her to tell him the entire story. She didn’t want to. He already thought she needed a keeper and she had no intention of allowing him to hinder her investigation. He had no right to, of course, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that would stop him.
“I already know about your abolitionist activities.”
How could he? No one knew that she helped runaway slaves escape the island on Merewether ships. Not even Uncle Ashby.
“What do you mean?”
“Jacob told me how vocal you are with your beliefs on the subject.”
Oh, that.
She smiled against his shirtfront, breathing in the spicy scent of him. “That’s neither here nor there. Of course, I’m vocal about it. Slavery is an abomination that England should never have had any part in and should abolish now. Passing laws to outlaw the slave trade is not enough.”
He surprised her with his ready agreement. “You’re right. However, that is a fight you must leave to the lawmakers.”
She pulled away from his arms. “No, it isn’t. Every citizen of our Great Nation should take up the cause until the powerful few who have made their fortunes on the deaths and forced labor of their fellow man are made to stop.”
“Your opinion is not a popular one in England and even less so on the Islands.”
“It’s not my opinion. It’s the truth. Right is right and slavery is wrong.”
“Bloody hell. No wonder someone tried to throw you overboard.”
She was incensed. “I thought you agreed with me.”
“That doesn’t mean I agree that you should risk your neck spouting off about the subject to everyone you meet.”
She knew it. If he thought her discussing her beliefs on the moral cowardice of slavery was risky, he would go wild if he discovered she was conducting an investigation into thievery.
“I don’t lecture everyone I meet.” When he raised his brows in disbelief, she shrugged. “Just everyone who needs it.”
“Who have you lectured on the ship?”
He thought she had offended someone on board enough for them to try to kill her? “I’ve been sick in my cabin most of the time. I’ve hardly talked to anyone.”
His tense muscles relaxed a bit.
“I probably said something to Lady Boyle on the subject, but she’s your aunt and not likely to do me harm.”
“Naturally.”
She smiled at his sardonic tone. “Well, then there was the steward. He made a comment regarding Africans I had to set him straight on.”
“What comment?”
“It’s not important.”
He frowned. “Who else is hardly anyone?”
“I may have mentioned abolition at dinner last evening.”
He looked confused for a minute.
“After you left. And then there was that nasty gentleman in the passenger parlor. He’s a plantation owner and went on about intelligence differences and one race serving another. I argued most vehemently with him, but I don’t think he was convinced. He left the parlor in a huff.”
Drake admired the fact that she could route a man, but didn’t like the pattern she had set. The woman was a menace to herself and didn’t realize it. “Who was the man?”
“Why?”
“I want to talk to him.”
“I told you that my attacker was a sailor.”
She had and she’d made a good case for it, even if he had acted disbelieving at the time. “There is a greater motivator than whiskey for villainous behavior. Money.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Now, tell me his name.”
“I don’t know it. Lady Boyle would know though. She appeared to be somewhat acquainted with him. He plays whist.”
Drake nodded. His aunt was an avid card player and if the man did indeed indulge in the occasional hand of whist, she would know him.
“I’ll ask her.” He stood up to leave.
He wanted to ask the first mate if he’d had any luck finding the attacker. Drake had his doubts, but he wanted to know anyway. Turning the lamp down to a faint glow, he then headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
He turned back toward her. “To ask the First Mate what he found.”
Frowning, she said, “I’m sure the villain got away.”
He shrugged. “You need your rest. I’ll let you know my progress tomorrow.”
“Do you need to leave now? I’m not at all tired and we should discuss strategy.”
He saw the lie in her usually vulnerable blue eyes. She had barely stifled a yawn a moment ago and her eyelids drooped with weariness.
“Would you feel better if I posted a guard outside your door?”
She looked horrified. “No.”
“Why not?”
Dealing with the female of his species was often confusing, but Thea was incomprehensible.
“It would be embarrassing. Besides, Melly would want to know why he was there.”
“Then you would tell her.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“No?”
“You must see that if we tell her about my little adventure last night, she would be upset. She would probably stop drinking your ginger tea to prevent me from going out again while she slept. Then her seasickness would come back. We mustn’t breathe a word to her.”
“Are you going to go on any more walks alone at night?”
She shuddered and he knew that whatever else had happened tonight, Thea’s encounter with her attacker had scared her deeply. “No.”
“Then I won’t tell her. But don’t you think she’ll notice the bruises when she dresses you?”
“I started dressing myself a long time ago.”
He shook his head. In many ways, Thea acted like any other English lady he had ever met, but she wasn’t. She was unique. His mother required a maid to help her dress, shop and do all sorts of things Thea was accustomed to d
oing for herself.
“Very well. I will warn the first mate and captain to secrecy. That will help in the investigation as well. We needn’t tip our hand to the villain.”
Her head bobbed up and down in agreement. “Just so. Let him think he is safe from detection. Perhaps then he’ll try again and I’ll be ready for him.”
Bloody hell. “He isn’t going to try again because you aren’t going to be alone again.”
“Not at night, no, but during the daytime it would be just the thing. We will lure him out of hiding and nab him.”
Is this what she meant by discussing strategy? Setting herself up as bait?
He stalked over to the bed and leaned over her with one thought on his mind, to put a stop to her nonsensical notion. “No.”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t argue as he expected.
Instead, her brilliant blue gaze became fixed on his lips as if mesmerized. Her eyes glazed over with desire and all thought of the argument fled his mind. He wanted her lips and he took them, the need that had been building in him since he first met her exploding in a cataclysmic kiss.
******
Thea locked her arms behind his neck, and returned Drake’s voracious kiss with all the enthusiasm at her disposal. Thrilled at the feel of his mouth on her own, she savored each sensation. His mouth tasted incredible, unlike anything she had ever experienced and she wanted to go on tasting it forever.
She tunneled her fingers into his dark hair and relished the feel of the silky strands against her fingers. She could not remember touching another person’s hair, could not remember a time when she had wanted to, but this intimacy with Drake felt so right and so very, very good. His tongue probed her mouth with expert thrusts that sent shivering awareness below her waist. She could no more help rocking against him then she could stifle the involuntary moans emanating from her.
He groaned, the sound coming from deep in his throat. Suddenly her nightgown ripped and she felt the night air against her breast. She shivered with both longing and cold, but the chill did not last long as he cupped her breast in one hot hand.
Moaning, she pushed herself against his palm. It felt wonderful.
He tore her lips from hers. “You like that, don’t you?” He tugged on her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
