Caution to the Wind (15 page)

She twisted around, examining the face of each man. She would worry about the captain later. For now, she needed to find her brother. She wouldn’t confide all her troubles to him, but she needed to talk with him, to be reminded by his playful demeanor that very little in life was ever as serious as it seemed.

Emotion still raw from the previous day, apprehension built within her.

Could Neil have slipped off the ship somehow? Fallen overboard perhaps? She looked out across the ocean, trying to glimpse sight of a shoreline through a layer of sea fog. She sucked the thick air into her lungs. Panic’s squeeze forced it out.

If he had fallen over during the early watch, it was possible no one was there to witness it. He could swim, but she doubted even Neil’s skills would allow him to reach the unseen shore through water she knew to be cold from firsthand experience. What if he had swum in the wrong direction?

No, she would not consider that. If he had gone missing, someone would have alerted the captain by now. Neil had duties, even if she wasn’t privy to them. He had to be aboard ship somewhere.

The ropes called to her. If only she hadn’t agreed to stay grounded, she could join Nate at the platform and search for her brother from a better vantage point. For the captain to forbid it went beyond reason.

Amanda had requested to climb the rigging but not because she really wanted to. She needed to work off some of her anxiety. Besides, Bull made skylarking sound like fun. He had also hinted, in that odd way he had of saying things without really saying them, that no boy would turn down the opportunity to test himself before his mates.

Deep within her breast, she hoped the captain would come on deck just in time to find her climbing those last few rungs to the watch platform. He would have to admit her abilities rivaled that of the ship’s boys, all of whom, with the exception of Neil, had served longer than she had.

She had started climbing to prove something to him, but about halfway up the rigging, her reasons turned inward, and she found she needed to prove something to herself. A sense of accomplishment surged within when she finally set foot on the platform and hauled herself up. The cheers from the men gave her an elation she had never known. She had not feared falling. Standing on the platform, the breeze nudging her back, she thought she might be able to fly.

Then she looked down to see those fierce amber eyes staring up at her and almost lost her grip on the rigging. Legs wobbling, she traced and retraced her steps around the small deck, a memory of the captain’s face keeping her company every step of the way.

Neil, where are you? Her whispered words, tight with worry, were carried away by the freshening breeze.

In the past hour, she had checked and rechecked the riggings, the deck, the hold, the galley and even the officer’s quarters. All save one, that is.

Amanda halted when she reached the steps leading below deck. She stared into the shadowed darkness. Surely, Captain Stoakes knew what had become of Neil. Maybe she could find a way to wheedle information out of him without appearing overly concerned. On the morning the captain learned of her true identity, Neil had made it sound as if his older sister were a bossy nuisance. Amanda frowned. Nothing could be further from the truth. She was concerned, not bossy.

Amanda gripped the wooden railing and stomped down the short flight of steps. A few determined strides brought her to the captain’s door, and without thinking to knock, she shoved it open, banging it against the opposite wall.

****

Will held a piece of freshly baked lemon cake halfway to his mouth. “Yes?” he asked, setting the cake back on his plate. “Is something the matter?”

“I can’t find him anywhere!” Amanda’s cheeks were flushed and her green eyes sparked with annoyance from beneath the pilled edges of her woolen cap.

Will sucked at a crumb-covered fingertip then examined the end of his finger with exaggerated interest until he regained his self-possession.

After his unsatisfying negotiations with Amanda, he had left his own quarters, in a mood fit for no man. Heedless of the concerned faces of his crew, he climbed to the deck, stripped to his breaches and plunged into the cold Atlantic. It had been a reckless and desperate act, but a short swim had chilled his anger and his ardor. Since then, he had received a few sidelong glances from his crew, and one blatantly speculative one from Buck, but no one mentioned his odd behavior.

His body cooled, he had hoped time would restore his rational mind, at least enough to allow him to assess the situation with a dispassionate eye. It would allow him to see her as she was, a woman, nothing more. At least nothing more to him.

Time had not been so accommodating. With her standing before him, her chest heaving in obvious agitation, his rational mind deserted him. Instead, he found himself in the grip of even baser instincts. The need to protect her stirred within him stronger than ever, but it mixed with something more potent and even more primitive—the need to possess her.

He had reached the edge of his self-restraint, and he longed to lock the door behind her, imprisoning them both in his quarters. The fault would be hers. He had tried to warn her that they shouldn’t be alone together.

A rush of color stained her cheekbones as though Amanda sensed the danger she had put herself in simply by coming to the wolf’s den.

“He can take care of himself,” Will said, smashing little bits of lemon cake with the dampened tip of his forefinger. He tamped each morsel as though it represented an impulse that needed to be conquered.

“But I can’t find him anywhere!” Amanda strode, uninvited, into his quarters.

“He’s fifteen,” Will replied. “Seems old enough to me to be responsible for himself.”

She stood a few feet away from his desk, an innocent lamb waiting for the slaughter. He could rise, come around his desk and have her in his arms before she knew what happened. He would teach her what a real kiss was like, not the soft peck on the lips he had given her before, nor the greedy kisses he had stolen in front of the doctor. This time, if he kissed her, he would take his time exploring. He would ravage her sweet mouth until her lips were swollen and her body ached every bit as much as his.

Judging by the sparks in her eyes, perhaps now was not the time. His little lamb looked like she’d put up a fight.

Will sighed. Perhaps it was for the best. He had always trusted his instincts, base though they might be, and right now they told him that his hunger was a dangerous thing. For him, lust was like an ocean wave. He could anchor himself against it, resisting its pull, or give in and ride the wave for as long as it lasted. Like all waves, it swept back out to sea soon enough.

His desire for Amanda was more than simple lust. He sensed her the way the sea senses the moon. Even when he couldn’t see her, she exerted a soft pull on him so that he felt her presence in every corner of his ship. If he ever did truly possess her, he would never let her go. Yet, that was precisely what he needed to do for the good of his crew and his ship.

“He’s with the prize crew.” His steady voice belied the turmoil within.

He waved Amanda toward a chair, but she shook her head. Would she ever learn to follow even the simplest of commands?

“The prize crew?” Puzzlement knit her brows.

Will sighed. “I know you signed on to my ship without the slightest idea of how to sail or to fight,” he paused when she flinched, “but don’t tell me you joined without knowing what it is we do.”

“Of course I know!” Amanda protested.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Just not the specifics, right?”

Amanda’s silent glare was answer enough.

Quelling his impatience, he explained how the captain hand-selected a group of his best sailors, the prize crew, to take a captured ship to the prize court. At the court, papers were inspected, the manifest checked, and an estimated value assessed to the ship and its contents. After a successful auction, the owner of the privateer paid off any private investors and distributed the remaining proceeds among his crew according to their rank and length of service. At least that was how he did it. Other captains could be a bit more arbitrary.

“You have been getting your share, haven’t you?” he asked.

With the sudden thought that she might have been cheated, annoyance flickered within him. She might not be a full-fledged crewmember, but she did the work of two. She would receive her share.

She nodded, and Will’s tension eased.

“Everything must be absolutely in order or the owner of the captured ship could sue, and I could lose my Letter of Marque.”

“Letter of Marque?” Amanda asked.

While her expression held confusion, the furrow between her brows relaxed. A good sign.

“Yes. That’s the essential piece of paper that makes me a…” he paused and chose his next words carefully “
businessman
instead of a pirate.”

“Oh, I had wondered about that,” Amanda said.

Will studied her face but detected no traces of mockery, so he continued.

Amanda listened in silence while he explained the intricate code of the privateer and all that could go wrong if the captain proved careless or corrupt. She nodded at periodic intervals and even commiserated when he related a gruesome tale of another captain’s misfortune. He assumed he had successfully distracted her from worry over her brother’s absence. He was wrong.

“My brother was necessary?” Amanda asked, leaving not even a beat between his explanation and her question.

“No.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have added the details about the hangings or the prison ships, fates that sometimes befell the unfortunate privateer whose papers were not found in order. He blamed the unsettling affect she had on him for bringing out his darker side.

“No, he wasn’t necessary?”

“No, he wasn’t.” Will met Amanda’s stormy stare with equal intensity. “It was necessary for
him
. He needed the experience, and he needed to be out from under his sister’s wing.”

****

Amanda bit back a reply. She wanted to protest that Neil was still a boy. He needed time to mature. He needed her guidance. He needed his sister. She wanted to say those things and more, but if she did, she’d be wrong.

Her brother had spent less time with her the last few weeks than he had spent in years, and in that small span of time, had grown less rebellious and more eager to take on new responsibilities. She hated to admit it, but time away from her may have been exactly what he needed.

Despite her own troubles with Captain Stoakes, her heart held nothing but gratitude where Neil was concerned. She loved watching them together, knowing he gave her brother one thing she never could—the guidance of a man.

She assessed the captain, commanding in his impeccably tailored formal coat, crisp white shirt and neck stock. She could just see the tips of his polished boots at the end of long legs stretched out below his desk. She knew from past observation, the boots would end at his knee, evolving into buff colored breeches that strained against the muscles in his thighs.

He looked every bit the fearless captain. He exuded confidence in the way he walked and in the way he stood, his back straight, shoulders square. His face never betrayed a moment’s weakness. His voice never wavered. Amanda hoped her brother would grow up to be a man half as certain of his place in the world.

Familiar doubts resurfaced, gouging furrows between her brows.

How well did Captain Stoakes really know her brother? Neil was only thirteen and barely looked that. How could the captain possibly think him fifteen? Had he really matured enough to handle the kind of responsibility the captain had given him?

“Is there any more of this cake left?” the captain asked, interrupting her inner debate.

“Yes, sir,” Amanda said, grateful for the excuse to slip away. She needed time to think.

Amanda spun on her heel, nearly plowing into Buck who had just stepped through the door and forcing him to dodge out of her way. Mumbling her apologies, she ducked her head and scurried on.

****

“Something up with him?” Buck tipped his head toward the door through which Amanda had fled.

“I told him where his brother is,” Will replied.

“Ahh,” Buck said with a knowing nod.

For a moment, Will considered sharing his troubles with Buck. It would be easier if he had someone in whom he could confide, and Buck had been a friend before he became a subordinate.

He studied Buck’s tan face, the sandy blonde curls so many women seemed to favor, the full lips, his manicured hands. With no ladies around, it wasn’t so obvious, but Buck was a dandy; exactly the kind women inexplicably adored. Although he would trust his second in command with his life, he wasn’t so sure he was ready to trust him with Amanda.

Buck pulled a chair away from the wall, spun it around on one leg, and then straddled it before sitting. He crossed his arms over the back of the chair and rested his chin on them.

“At ease, sailor,” Will said, giving Buck a grin, one normally reserved for friends, not subordinates.

“Still trying to look after his brother, I imagine. Strange boy, that one is,” Buck said, his voice trailing off, inviting Will to comment.

Will’s gaze flicked to Buck’s face. Strange indeed, but did Buck realize just how strange?

The man’s amiable face held no hint of deception, although the speculation in his eyes unsettled Will. It would be better to leave the topic of “Adam” for another time, lest Buck divine her secret and his captain’s peculiar affliction.

“He’ll be fine.” Will snapped open his logbook. “In fact, they both will.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Buck said, then shrugged. “Still, taking a prize ship to court is not without its dangers.”

Will shot a glance at Buck, then dropped his gaze to the logbook lest Buck see the depth of his own concerns.

Recapture was always possible, especially when British blockades rendered many American ports useless. A privateer and her crew didn’t always have the latest intelligence regarding which ports were open. Often at the last minute, the captain of the prize ship had to decide whether to attempt a daring run at a blockade or to try to slip away to another port farther up or down the coast.