Loving Sarah (6 page)

She shook her head. “Not unless you count riding, swimming, and shooting. And those aren’t talents so much as skills you learn.” His unwanted guest smiled at his apparent confusion. “You know, the more you do them, the better you get.”

At her mention of swimming, a vision of a very wet, very sensual water nymph, who appeared much like the lady at his side, popped into his head. Then he wondered what she wore when she swam. Did she, heaven forbid, swim in the nude as he did?

Stop.
He couldn’t allow himself to think such things, or he’d wind up giving her another skill to practice to perfection. One she would practice only with him.

Ian thought about that possibility in earnest. It wouldn’t be so bad, except that he had a very good reason not to marry anyone right now—at least while his grandfather lived. For the man had tried many times to ruin Ian’s life since that day all those years ago. There was no doubt in his mind the man would try again.

He also did not want anyone saying he married this lady—or any other for that matter—for the woman’s dowry. And it was sure to happen if
he
married her now, because he hadn’t two shillings to spare and owed his soul to the bankers for their business venture.

“Don’t you agree?” Sarah’s voice cut through the fog in his brain.

“I’m sorry, my mind wandered. What did you ask?”

“I said the weather is quite nice.”

“Yes. It is. But a good sailor knows that the weather can quickly turn against you and always keeps an eye on the sky.” Like he should keep an eye on his self-control around this chit.

She nodded. “Did you know that Lucky forecasts weather by reading clouds? My Uncle Angus taught him. He tried to teach me, but I was a lost cause.”

“I’d wondered how he learned to do that. It’s eerie how accurate he can be.” He looked behind him to see Lucky off in the distance. “For that reason, we stay within sight of his boat. In fact, we always remain within sight of each other. Though we may both be driven to make this venture of ours succeed, neither one of us is completely rash or impulsive. Our ships are only minimally gunned, and we count on our speed and maneuverability to outrun privateers, should we encounter any.”

“I see.”

He watched as his guest continued to scan the horizon all around them. The hours ticked by as one by one the other vessels faded out of their sight. Whether it was by choice due to the course they’d plotted or the wind separating them, there were soon just two boats—his and Lucky’s—within his entire perimeter of vision.

He caught her glance as she looked up at him momentarily, then turned away. “Captain?” she asked rather sheepishly. “Would you happen to have something to eat on this boat? I haven’t eaten since last night’s dinner.”

He continued staring off into the distance. “I remember how you pushed your food around your plate last night without eating much of it. Now I know why.” She grasped the too-long sleeves of her jacket in her hands and slid her hands into the opposite sleeve. A nervous reaction, or was it to keep warm?

“Yes, I’ll admit now I was too excited and afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep any of my meal down if I over-ate.”

He gave her a half-hearted grin. “I shall show you where the galley is on the way back to your cabin. Our cook, Seamus, is old, and his eyesight’s not the best, but he boils a mean pot of water.”

“Boiled water? Is that what I have to look forward to on this voyage?” Lady Sarah gave a curt laugh.

“I do not jest, my lady. Boiled water is the base of all gruel. You cannot add barley, oats, or corn meal unless the water is boiling. Of course, knowing what else to toss into the pot helps, but when it’s all there is, then it’s all we have.”

“Well then,” she said through a forced smile, “I’ve been meaning to drop some weight. I always gain it during the season and lose it once I return to Haldenwood.”

Ian thought there was nothing wrong with her weight now. The women he knew were always complaining about something with regard to their looks. In his opinion, there was nothing wrong with Lady Sarah’s figure or appearance, except maybe her clothing could use correcting. And when he thought of that bottom poking up as she hung out of that porthole…. He groaned and turned to lead her to the galley.

L
ater on the evening of their first night at sea, they ate their dinner of a beef and barley stew in the captain’s cabin. It wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting. In fact, the fare was edible in Sarah’s opinion, once she added a generous dash of salt. And she didn’t complain about it at all.

She was afraid if she did, he might send her to the galley to cook and she didn’t know the first thing about it, so it was truly for the continued good health of the entire crew that she not attempt to cook.

The cabin in which she was to sleep appeared to be the only cabin on board the ship. Sarah had to apologize for causing Ian any inconvenience. More importantly, she needed reassurance she wasn’t inconveniencing him too much, seeing as she was his unplanned-for guest. She hated the thought of imposing on him, though she admitted to herself she would have had no qualms doing so to Lucky. Knowing no other way to find out except to bring the subject up first, she offered, “I’ll sleep on the bench there, if you have a spare pillow and blanket.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll bunk in the crew’s quarters with the men, forward from the galley. But you must keep your door locked at all times when I am not with you. I would hate to face your brother’s anger should you become harmed in any way.”

His meaning being quite clear, Sarah nodded in agreement. By now the entire crew knew who she was and what she’d done. Not one of the men she’d met was upset by her appearance, nor did they seem disturbed by their captain’s diversion of attention earlier in the day. Everyone had a job to do, and each man did his with a precision and skill that any veteran captain would admire.

Sarah placed her plate and utensils on the tray, then went to a porthole to look at the night sky. The sliver of moon glowed over the tops of the waves and the inky black heavens sparkled with more stars than she’d seen in recent months, at least not since leaving Haldenwood for London. One rarely saw stars in the sky in town.

“I’ll take this out for you,” Ian said, “and return with more water so you can wash up if you’d like.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

He left silently and was soon back with a full bucket of water. “Drink up while it’s good. It gets mixed with rum after the second day. Also, there are towels under that seat and soap here in this drawer.” He went to the door, and as if on a second thought, he turned back to her and reiterated, “Lock this behind me.”

As Ian left the room, Sarah shut the door behind him and slid the bolt home. Only then did she hear his footsteps go up the companionway.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

T
he crashing noises echoing through the
Revenge
’s crew quarters brought Ian instantly alert. Not that he’d been in the hammock long, only about ten minutes, but he’d been so tired he quickly fell into that hovering state between sleep and wakefulness. He heard no screams, only a feminine voice—to his knowledge, the only female voice aboard his vessel—raised in anger. Sarah shouted threats of smashing some poor creature’s head in and feeding it to the fishes.

“By Christ’s blood, I swear I will—” a crash, more thumping, and muffled words, “—then toss your tiny arse out—” more unintelligible words, the likes of which he could only imagine, then, “—the sharks, you little rat.”

Ian threw his legs over the side of the hammock and jammed his feet into his boots. Perhaps she needed help, though she sounded as though she had control of the situation. As he neared the cabin door, he heard more crashing and the sound of something being thrown, hitting the bulkhead with a solid thud.

Afraid she might have hit her head, he tried the latch and found it locked. He knocked, and when Lady Sarah didn’t come immediately, he pounded on it. Finally, she threw the bolt and he pushed the door open.

“What in God’s name is going on in here?” He surveyed the room and found books, boots, tools, the chamber pot—thankfully empty—and clothing all strewn about the floor. Lady Sarah stood in the middle of it all, an angry fire in her blue eyes and a boot in her raised hand ready to smash something.

Right then, even through his half-fogged, sleep-deprived brain, Ian knew what had disturbed her sleep.

“I’ll go fetch the cat,” he said before he noticed her captivating state of undress. “Ah, bolt the door until I return.” He quickly shut the door before any other curious eyes came to see what the fuss was over. Ian didn’t want anyone else seeing her dressed, or rather undressed, as she was.

Finding the ship’s resident rodent exterminator curled up on the table in the galley, he lifted her and carried her back to his cabin. He pounded on the door again, and when she threw the bolt, he entered, making sure to close the door behind him.

“Here is Mouser.” He set the cat down on the floor and petted her head. “She can sleep in here if the mice are a problem for you.”

“Mice?” Sarah squeaked. “You mean there might be more than one?”

“I’d venture to guess that there are quite a few on board,” he replied.
Do not look at her
, he told himself.
Not any part of her. Don’t look at her bare feet and shapely calves. And most especially do not lift your eyes to that span of bare flesh just above those lovely knees.
To do so would be his undoing. He’d lose any restraint he still had.

“How can that be? You’d think out here on the water that they’d have a hard time getting aboard, having to swim and all. I didn’t think mice
could
swim.”

“They don’t necessarily swim out to the boat and climb the hull. When we load cargo, they’ll sometimes be hiding in the boxes. They also run along the mooring lines when we’re docked. They’re just a fact of life everyone has to deal with. Even out here.”

As he said that, his gaze wandered, totally against his will, up those twin alabaster legs he was sure led to heaven. They were bare from midway down her thighs to her dainty little toes. She had fine, shapely legs, too. Knees, calves, ankles and feet, were all delicate, feminine and curvy. She was temptation incarnate. And every bit of her was perfectly proportioned for passion.

God help him, he wanted her.

Lucky would kill him. After, of course, her brother the duke killed him first.

He had to leave. Now. Or the increasing bulge in his trousers would give away his lust for her. If he acted on said lust, he’d be twice dead.

That would be very dead
, he reminded himself as his feet still did not move. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from her slender form peeking at him through the worn material.

A groan rippled through him, and their eyes met, as the cat pounced on a moving creature in the corner behind him. It was enough to break the spell. “I’ll leave you two to figure out the rodent situation.” He reached for the brass handle. “Bolt this door,” he said. Then almost as an afterthought, he added, “And whatever you do, do not open it for anyone.” After she closed the door, he whispered, “Including me.”

W
hen Ian was gone again, Sarah reflected on what had just occurred. Earlier in the day, she’d wondered if there might be a connection between them, but now there was no doubt. He felt it just as she did. As she had from the moment they’d met the night before. Truth be told, she’d thought the year prior that he was handsome enough, but the past year had changed him in build and appearance. He’d grown more rugged-looking from an extra year of working outdoors. His dark blond hair was streaked with sun-kissed strands, and when he raked it with a nervous hand, it sent an odd sensation coursing through her innermost parts. Almost as though she were the one touching his hair, not he. She could imagine the feel of its texture and curl as the separate strands wove through her fingers. But she could not know this, as she’d never touched him in such an intimate manner. So, how could her body react in this way?

Now she was in a fine predicament. She had to spend the next several weeks in his company. How was she going to comport herself, knowing her attraction was likely reciprocated?

She certainly had not planned to have him catch her so scantily clad. The mouse did exist, as was evidenced by the cat in the corner toying with the thing. Glancing over at the stunned rodent, she reached for a stocking—one of his—and pushed her hand inside. Taking the stunned and paralyzed mouse by the tail, she held it as far from her person as possible, went to the porthole, and stuck her hand through. She opened her fingers, and the mouse dropped into the sea.

Turning to the cat, she said, “I’m sorry if that was your dinner, but you shall just have to wait until I let you out of here in the morning to eat. I’ll not have rodent entrails on the floor in this room.” The fat feline looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. Sarah realized that, quite possibly, she had—though long before the mouse made its appearance.

She began to clean the mess, seeing as she’d made it, and rearranged all the clutter until the room bore little resemblance to the cluttered cabin she’d entered earlier that day. Hopefully the captain would appreciate her organizing his belongings. While she put away his clothes, Sarah realized she was learning about him.