No Choice but Seduction (27 page)

Perhaps that was why she didn’t see him again after they sailed. She had been a bit harsh in her response. A bit? No, quite overdone. He might well be regretting his magnanimous offer now, and she couldn’t blame him if he was. Of course his gesture was enough. It was much more than she could have expected. Hadn’t she contemplated buying her own ship? Now she had one at her disposal without the wait and without the much larger cost. She would have had to pay for a captain and crew either way.

She also had her own coach now, thanks to Roslynn Malory, and a luxurious one at that. She had her own driver now, too. John Tobby was a strapping fellow in his midthirties. He claimed to be a good shot, and good with his fists as well. And as big as he was, he could be quite intimidating if need be. Which might just be needed, since he’d agreed to act as her guard as well as her driver. She’d made sure of that before hiring him. And hiring him had been too easy. That she was taking him around the world with her had been an incentive, rather than a deterrent. She wasn’t the only one who wanted to see more of the world.

Unfortunately, John might not last for the duration. He’d never sailed before, and he wasn’t the only one they hadn’t seen since the start of the voyage. The poor man had been beset with a terrible bout of seasickness before they even reached the English Channel. Which had Grace moping about. The maid had been enjoying some friendly flirtation with John, which was cut off abruptly when he barricaded himself in his cabin. She, too, had realized that he might abandon them now as soon as they reached a port. Especially since he already knew they would be doing a
lot
of sailing.

Katey sighed to herself. She stood at the rail alone, spyglass in hand. They had sailed through the Strait of Gibraltar early that morning. Captain Reynolds had given her the spyglass that very first day at sea, telling her he’d keep the ship as close to the coastlines of the countries they passed as the shoals would allow so she could view them. They had made good time, the wind quite cooperative. The weather was already noticeably warmer, too, enough that she no longer needed to bundle up to stand there at the rail for hours at a time, as she’d been doing each day.

The spyglass had been a nice gesture, but after the first day of using it, it wasn’t nearly as entertaining. The landscape began to all look the same, rocky coasts, beaches, and lots and lots of trees. Those had at least been interesting along the north half of France, which like England, had been filled with autumn colors, but everything was still green farther south. Then there were only fishing villages to break the monotony, or the occasional coastal town that she couldn’t really see much of through a spyglass.

It didn’t take long for Katey’s particular brand of creativity to kick in and she was seeing things through the spyglass that weren’t really there. She saw the Millards’ parlor again. An old, kindly-faced woman was there this time, sitting on the sofa with her, the grandmother she hadn’t got to meet. She was holding Katey’s hand and telling her childhood tales about her mother. And her aunt Letitia was on her other side, smiling, laughing, a completely different woman from the one Katey had actually met. She’d apologized profusely for her previous nasty reception, explaining that she’d thought someone had been playing a cruel joke on her, that she hadn’t believed Katey was really who she’d said she was.

This meeting went so differently it brought tears to Katey’s eyes. It was merely her imagination, yet it filled her with such profound feelings, because it was what she had wanted so badly to happen, to have the only family she had left really be a family for her, a loving family. And because it was never going to happen now, she’d cried herself to sleep that night and didn’t let the Millards into her daydreams again.

Which had Boyd showing up quite often after that on the other side of her looking glass. She even came up with a perfectly good reason for his absence during those first four days. It certainly wasn’t seasickness the way her driver was suffering, though that was the first thing to occur to her. But Boyd was a shipowner. He wouldn’t sail with his vessel if he was prone to that malady, now would he? No, she had him laid low by something as simple as a cold that turned so severe overnight that he was now running such a high fever that it made him delirious. And the ship’s doctor, Philips she’d thought was his name, couldn’t sit with him day and night, so she’d been asked to share some of that duty.

Cold compresses, warm sponge baths. She took liberties she would never think to take if it were anything other than one of her risqué fantasies. Of course she was there when he finally woke up, miraculously without clammy skin or sweaty hair, perfectly healthy and staring at her with those velvety brown eyes.

He put a hand to her cheek. She didn’t move out of his reach. She tilted her head toward his touch.

“Do I owe you my life?”

“No—well, maybe a little.”

She grinned. She would have had him do the same, but she’d so rarely seen him grin. He was usually so intensely serious around her, so filled with passions that weren’t exactly amusing. So she couldn’t quite imagine him grinning. But she didn’t need to. In her fantasy, it was enough that she knew he wanted to.

“Then let me express my gratitude.”

She held her breath as he drew her down for a gentle kiss, but their lips didn’t touch yet. With her leaning forward, it was an easy matter for him to pull her over him, all the way to the other side of his bed. She was now lying beside him with him leaning over her, and damn, she did manage to give him a grin, though it was a wicked one. And that was fine. He was going to kiss her. She waited for it with bated breath. She was already feeling that thrill again that only he had ever made her feel.

It was powerful when it happened. Too powerful, as if it were really happening. Anticipation. That’s all it was for her, because she’d never been kissed for real, so she had nothing in her mind to repeat or let her know how she should be feeling, just wishful assumptions of how it would be if Boyd did ever kiss her. But, oh, my, for that alone to stir her senses so much…

“Will you join us for lunch, Miss Tyler? We should discuss our first port, now that we’ve reached the Mediterranean.”

Usually she could snap right out of a daydream when reality called, but not this time. It took several long moments and a deep breath before she was calm enough to glance aside at Tyrus Reynolds, who had come to stand next to her at the rail. She was used to the captain’s booming voice now, enough that it no longer startled her. A middle-aged man with black hair and gray eyes, bushy brows, and a beard, he was actually slightly shorter than she was.

“Us?”

“Yes. Boyd asked me to extend the invitation to you.”

“He’s still with us? I was beginning to wonder.”

Her tart reply brought a slight grin to his lips. “At noon then in my cabin?”

“Certainly.”

He returned to the quarterdeck. She returned to using her spyglass. She had expected invitations of that sort sooner. She and the other passengers on the Atlantic crossing had taken most of their meals in the captain’s cabin with him. It was a common courtesy, since his was the largest cabin on the ship. But she hadn’t been invited until now, which was quite odd, now that she thought about it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

T
HE CABIN WAS EXACTLY
as Katey remembered it, comfortable, carpeted, the seats plush, without the stiffness of being new. It was a room designed for work, but also designed for entertainment. The dining table was long enough to seat ten. Occasionally
The Oceanus
had transported only passengers, with little cargo. There was a small section for musical performances in the corner with three chairs, a harp, and a glass-faced cabinet that held an assortment of musical instruments. The captain himself played the harp. One of his officers was handy with a cittern. On the Atlantic crossing, one of the passengers had had a splendid voice and joined them most evenings, providing excellent entertainment.

Katey had wondered before, why Boyd didn’t claim this larger cabin for himself. Being the owner of the ship, he no doubt could have. Of course she had no idea what his cabin looked like. It could be just as large as this one for all she knew.

Her own cabin was a decent size this time around. Very little bumping into things if she was careful, which hadn’t been the case before. There was enough room for the full-size bed, the wardrobe, a bureau, a small table with four chairs, and her clothes trunks. There was even a bookcase filled with an assortment of reading material she’d been pleased to find. She guessed the room was reserved for special passengers, which she supposed was an apt description of her on this voyage.

She entered Tyrus’s cabin relaxed. That ended abruptly as soon as she clapped eyes on Boyd sitting next to the captain. Both men wore jackets, but that was the extent of their formal attire.

American men could dress impeccably, but they tended not to fancy themselves up with frilly cravats and lacy cuffs as the English gentry did. With Boyd, however, she had a feeling he’d look magnificent to her no matter what he wore, simply because she found him so handsome. That gold-streaked hair, the darker slash of brows, the even darker brown eyes that could be so expressive they provoked her senses to unrecognized heights, and, oh my, his mouth, the thin upper lip, the full, supple lower one, lips she’d caught herself staring at much too frequently on that first voyage. Her attraction to him should have been severely tempered after what he’d done, but it was still there and still just as strong.

If she didn’t have so much on her agenda, plans she was
not
giving up, things might be different. If marriage was a part of those plans, she might not fight so much what this man could make her feel. She could enjoy a mild flirtation here and there, to add a little spice to her travels, as long as she didn’t take any of it seriously. But not with Boyd Anderson. She’d sensed from the start that a flirtation with him would get her burned. She had no doubt of it.

The tension she was feeling now that she was in Boyd’s presence again annoyed her though. She was also still miffed that he’d more or less hidden himself away from her until now. She should have been grateful that he was going to keep his distance, but it was quite demoralizing to be ignored when she wasn’t expecting to be ignored.

Both men had stood up at her entrance. Tyrus pulled out a chair to seat her. A crewman from the galley was there to serve them and was even semiformally dressed in a waistcoat. He offered her a napkin with one arm, a salad with the other, then left the room to return to the galley for the next course.

Katey picked up her fork before she glanced at Boyd again. His eyes hadn’t left her since her arrival, but at least he was keeping his look impersonal enough to not embarrass her.

“You look a bit peaked,” she told him. “Have you been sick?”

She could have bit her tongue out. That damned fantasy was still in her mind, obviously. But did she have to sound concerned?

“No!”

He said it too quickly and too forcefully. She lifted a brow over that reaction, but realized he might be just as tense as she was, so she made an effort to at least put one of them at ease.