Enchanted by Your Kisses (16 page)

Nathan moved to take her place. But he felt an instant surge of shock that turned into a bellow of rage at what he saw.

Wine.

Hundreds of bottles of wine.

"Now, you didn't really think my father would keep important papers in his home, did you?"

He turned back to her, for the first time understanding what it meant to see red.

That was, of course, exactly what he'd thought.

A half-hour later, Ariel had grown impatient with his search.

"I tell you, 'tis just wine."

It wouldn't be so bad, waiting for him to realize the truth, but he'd tied her hands behind her back, and her upper body was wrapped to the back of her father's chair like a sacrificial offering. It wouldn't have been so bad except that the chair was a great, big leather monstrosity that engulfed her and smelled of tallow and lemons. A most unfortunate combination. Truly, if she'd hated Nathan
Trevain
before, she absolutely despised him now. The cad was worse than Archie. At least Archie hadn't treated her like a Bastille prisoner.

"They must be in here," she heard him mumble.

She wished the bloody chair would move, but she'd tried rocking it away from her father's oak desk at least twenty times.

"If you tell me what it is you're looking for, perhaps I can help." She tried to loosen her bonds again, but to no avail. Her hands were snug between her back and the chair. "I do, after all, live here when my father is in town."

His head poked out of the cellar. There was a cobweb in his black hair. She let it stay there out of spite.

"I doubt you can help," he answered.

"Then why did you involve me in the first place?" she asked with a huff.

He shrugged. "I conjectured the best way to discover what was in this room was to seduce the information out of you."

"Seduce?" She blasted him with a glare. "And what did you hope to do? Kiss me senseless before asking how to get in there?" She motioned to the room with her head.

"Something like that."

She snorted. "Men. They think women's heads can be turned by pretty words and passionate kisses."

"I haven't heard you object to any of my kisses yet."

"No, but then I was acting for a good portion of the time we were together."

It wasn't true, but he must not have realized how much his touch affected her. He shot her a black look before turning back to the cellar.

"They are not in there."

"So you say."

She sighed with impatience, her hands beginning to go numb. The bloody chair was uncomfortable when one was tied in such a position. "Why don't you tell me what it is you are looking for," she repeated plaintively. "Gracious, we could be here all night at this rate."

He stuck his head out again. Another cobweb had joined the first one. Good. His body emerged, too, his hands dusty with cellar dust. She caught a whiff of it and fought the urge to sneeze. He shook the filth off his fingers, some of it alighting on his clothes. He still wore his coat, only now she knew why he'd dressed in black. Obviously he skulked about houses quite a bit.

The realization had her narrowing her eyes. Fiend. Miscreant. She would see him captured for his crimes. Somehow. Some way.

"I am looking for my brother," he finally said.

She lifted a brow. "I assure you, sir, your brother is not inside my father's cellar."

This time it was his turn to give her a sarcastic look. "Obviously. I am searching for papers that might tell me where he is."

"In there?" she asked, lifting her brows in disbelief. "What makes you think my father would keep those sorts of documents in a room at his private residence?"

"Because they are not at his office at the Admiralty."

"How do you know?"

"Because I have searched."

"You broke into the Admiralty?"

"Indeed."

Heavens, that took courage.
Silly ninny, Ariel. Only a traitor would do such a thing. You should not think a traitor's actions courageous.

"And what sort of documents would these be?" she asked.

He stepped further out of the cellar, the
spiderwebs
fluttering about him like Medusa's snakes. "Anything that might tell me what ship my brother is captive on."

"He was taken aboard a ship?"

"Yes, my lady, by your British navy."

She felt a stab of surprise followed by dismay. His brother had been pressed into service. Aye, she knew it happened. Often times she'd wondered what fate those men suffered. She'd wondered about their families, their friends, wondering if captives were allowed any contact with their loved ones back home. The thoughts had made her miserable, especially since it was her father who headed the Admiralty.

"When did it happen?" she asked.

"Four years ago."

"And you have been searching ever since?"

"I have."

"And no one will tell you where he is? Not even now that the war is over?"

He snorted. "Tell the infamous Nathan
Trevain
where his only brother is? They would rather shoot one of their own in the head."

Most likely true. Truly, the man had a way of getting under one's skin, and she'd only known him a few days. She could only imagine how the Admiralty felt about him.

"How old is he?" she asked.

His lip curled. "What difference does that make?"

"None, but I want to know."

His scowl turned into a frown. "He is twenty-one."

She felt her eyes widen. Why, just a year younger than herself. That meant he'd been—

"Abducted when he was seventeen," Nathan provided, obviously reading the direction of her thoughts.

Seventeen and taken off a ship by complete strangers, forced to serve under men who no doubt despised him, never allowed to see his family and to go home.

"Could he be dead?" she found herself asking.

She'd been looking at his face intently, so she saw the way it changed, how his jaw tightened, his eyes dimmed.

"He could be, but they will not tell me even that."

"Perhaps they do not know. From what my father tells me, naval records are not the best. You would be lucky to find a list of crew members."

He didn't look like he wanted to hear that. "Then I will find sailing plans. Perhaps a map showing which ships were off the coast of
Virginia
in 1779."

"That you might find, but not here."

"How are you so certain?"

She shrugged, though it was difficult to do so, what with her arms tied the way they were. "My father does not spend a lot of time here. When he is not aboard a ship, he prefers to be in the country. I believe he likes the smell of earth after months at sea."

"You're certain?"

"Of course I am. He is, after all, my father, for all that we don't see eye to eye."

He didn't say anything.

"So you see, sir, you've set yourself a fruitless task. The papers you seek are no doubt at the Admiralty or perhaps in someone else's possession. It would take forever for you to find them."

"Ah, but you forget something, my dear."

He advanced upon her. And Ariel didn't like the look upon his face. Not one bit. She would have moved away, but she couldn't. She consoled herself with leaning her head as far back as she could.

"And what is that, sir."

"I have something your father wants."

She didn't want to ask the question, truly she didn't. "And that would be?"

"You."

Her heart stopped, restarted again at twice the rate. "And what do I have to do with anything?"

"Why, nothing, my dear, but I am certain your fellow countrymen will do whatever it takes to insure that one First Lord's daughter does not come to harm."

And that, Ariel realized, was exactly what she'd been afraid of.

Weep not for little Leonie
,
Abducted by a French Marquis!
Though loss of honor was a wrench
,
Just think how it's improved her French

                                 
HARRY GRAHAM

And so he'd kidnapped her. He'd disappeared for an hour to return with a hired hack. The fiend deposited her inside like a bag of corn. That coach rattled around them now, a rackety affair with a piece of stuffing hanging out where Nathan sat.

Nathan the spy.

Nathan the abductor.

She wanted to poke his eyes out, except she couldn't, because her hands were tied behind her back. Still.

"Where are you taking me?"

He didn't answer. His face was turned to the left, so she had a view of his good side. If the man could have a good side. Truly, he seemed enamored with the view out of the carriage window. She supposed a view of absolute and utter darkness would intrigue a man with an absolute and utterly black soul.

"Well?" she repeated when he didn't answer.

Finally he looked at her, his silver eyes having turned a dark, dark gray. Or perhaps it was the lighting. The inside of the coach had a carriage lantern with such dirty glass the flame looked dim at best.

"Where I am taking you is no concern of yours."

"Oh, but I beg to differ. Since I am the latest victim of your machinations, I feel I have a distinct right to know."

He looked like he couldn't believe her audacity in insisting. Well, then, they were even, for she couldn't believe his audacity in abducting her from her own home.

"You will know soon enough where I am taking you. In the interim, I suggest you sit still and be quiet.

"It would be easier to sit still if my rear was not deposited on a broken spring."