Pleasures of a Tempted Lady (30 page)

“I’m expected to carry you halfway around England as a… guest?”

“I’d prefer to be looked upon as a crew member. A crew member with a rank equivalent to yours, of course.”

He made a scoffing noise. “You are the most brash, impetuous woman I’ve ever known.”

She frowned at him, not knowing whether he meant that as a compliment or as an insult.

“And the most beautiful.” His voice was as low as the rumble of distant thunder, but she heard him, all right. And she melted from the inside out.

Closing his eyes, he rested the back of his head against the door. “God, Jessica. Do you realize what danger you’re in by being here?”

“Do you mean from Caversham? Well—”

His eyes snapped open and he lowered his chin to look at her. “No. Not from Caversham. From me.”

“From you?” She laughed softly. “I think not. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

He shook his head slowly. “Your virtue…” His voice trailed off.

“Is a pesky thing,” she finished for him. “I’d like to be rid of it as soon as possible.”

His eyes went wide, and then he bent over and laughed, great choking guffaws. She frowned at him. “Are you laughing at me?”

With effort, he rose to full standing. “No,” he choked out, still grinning. “But I do have to say, Jess… I’ve never met a woman like you. Brash, impetuous, and absolutely one-of-a-kind.”

“That’s good… isn’t it?”

He sobered a bit, but his eyes still shone. “It’s good. It’s… the best.”

He reached out, snagged her around the waist, and hauled her into his arms. And his lips descended onto hers in a kiss so richly passionate, Jessica thought she might drown in its luxury. They swayed with the ship, but David remained firmly attached to the floor, keeping her from stumbling, his soft lips caressing, stroking, tasting. He tasted like wine, rich and full.

When he pulled away, minutes later, they were both breathing hard. And Jessica felt like squirming, like she wanted to climb right out of her twitchy skin and into his, which would certainly be warm and comforting.

She looked up at him, waiting. He’d ended it. Perhaps he had something to stay.

He stared down at her, his eyes soft. “By God,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful damned thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You curse like a sailor.”

“I am a sailor.”

“I know.” She pulled him into her arms once more. “It’s one of the many things I admire about you.”

“I cannot begin to comprehend what you mean by that.” Idly, his fingers stroked through her hair, which she’d worn loosely tonight.

“Don’t question it,” she murmured. “Just accept it.”

Jessica felt the breath releasing from his chest as he sighed softly. “I will, then.”

“Good.”

His lips nuzzled her hair. “You must go back to the captain’s cabin.”

“Yes… I probably should.” She wasn’t stupid. She
wanted him, yes. But they had time. She didn’t want to rush things. They would go to bed together when they were both ready for it. Jessica wasn’t quite ready yet, and even though she could feel the hard ridge of his erection against her hip, she thought he wasn’t, either. He was still dealing with the implications of her presence on “his” ship.

She tilted her head up and with her fingers wrapped around his neck, pulled his down until his lips met hers. She kissed him softly, then spent a moment simply nuzzling him, drinking in his softness, before she whispered, “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Jess.” His voice was gentler than she’d ever heard it. “Morning mess is at eight o’clock sharp. Meet me here first, and we’ll explain your presence to the crew.”

“Does that mean you’re going to allow me to join you on your mission?”

“It means you’ll be sailing with us. If you’re asking if I’m going to willingly place you in danger, the answer is no.”

She sighed, then gave him an indulgent smile. “That’s good enough. For now.”

Squeezing her arms around him, she kissed him one last time and then slipped back into her own quarters—well, Captain Langley’s quarters—to fall immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep, not remembering until morning how hungry she was.

Chapter Eighteen

W
ill arrived home at dusk, exhausted from a long day. He’d ridden nearly all the way to Manchester today in order to find the first mate who had come highly recommended by the
Endeavor
’s architect. Clifford Halliday hadn’t been happy to have his holiday with his family cut short, and he’d been expensive, but if he was as skilled with oceangoing steamships as the architect had claimed he was, he was worth every penny. After much haggling, he’d agreed that after spending one last night with his wife and seven children, he would join the
Endeavor
’s crew in Liverpool early the following morning.

The
Endeavor
would be ready to launch in two days. Not perfectly outfitted, but stocked well enough, and with a competent crew. Will didn’t want to delay their departure any longer. He had a sick feeling in his gut that Caversham was close.

As he neared the house, the feeling tightened and condensed into a hard ball. Usually, when he arrived home,
a single lantern was lit in the entryway for him. Tonight, lights blazed in all the windows of the house.

The coachman met him at the stables, taking the reins. The look on his face confirmed Will’s worry that something had happened.

“What’s wrong, John?”

“It’s Miss Donovan and Master Jake, sir. They’ve gone missing. I went to Liverpool to fetch you—”

“I wasn’t in Liverpool today.” Why hadn’t he thought to inform the household where he was going?

“Yes, sir, the dockworkers told me you’d headed out to Manchester. By that time it was too late to pursue you there, so I came home to await your arrival and your instructions.”

“You did the right thing. Come into the house.”

Within a few seconds, he was striding into the house, closely followed by John. Thomas met him in the entryway and flung his little body into Will’s arms. “Papa! Meg and Jake are gone. Gone! And they didn’t even say good-bye!”

He knelt down to comfort the boy and looked up at Benson, who’d appeared in the doorway to the parlor. “Tell me what happened.”

“Miss Donovan took Master Jake riding, and they didn’t return. However, I don’t believe they were taken, sir. I believe she left of her own accord. I found this in her room, addressed to you.” He held out a piece of folded stationery.

Will closed his eyes. So, she’d left on her own. She hadn’t been taken against her will by Caversham. The ball of fear in him tightened into something else, something bitter and painful.

Taking the letter from the servant, he looked down at Thomas. “Go with Benson, now, lad. It’s past bedtime for you, isn’t it?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“I’m glad you did. But now it’s time for bed.”

Benson took Thomas’s hand and led him away. After asking John to stay close, Will rose and walked with leaden legs into the parlor.

Will sank down on the sofa and turned the letter over in his hands before he broke the seal.

Dearest Will,

I’m sorry. But please understand, I cannot put you or my family in danger any longer. Please don’t follow me. Please understand that the farther away Jake and I are from you and Thomas, the safer you’ll be.

I will never forget the time we spent here. It meant everything to me.

Meg

He read the short letter three times, then crumpled it in his fist and tossed it into the fire. The fire was almost completely out, but it only took a few seconds for the paper to spark and flare into bright flames, and another few before it was reduced to ash.

“And that’s what I think of your heroic efforts to keep me out of danger, Meg,” he murmured to the hearth.

He rose, went upstairs, and kissed his son good night. Then he left the house, returning to the stables, where
John had begun to rub down his tired horse. “Saddle the gelding,” he ordered. “I’m returning to Liverpool.”

“Returning to Liverpool, sir? But why?”

Because, thought Will, where else could she possibly have gone?

Night had descended rapidly, but streetlamps lit the footpaths, and the roads were still busy with workers heading home for the evening.

Deep in her thoughts, and murmuring answers to Jake when he pointed out various features of the brick architecture that seemed to dominate Liverpool’s streets, Meg heard a muffled noise behind her—just odd enough that it popped her out of her reverie. She bowed her head and walked faster, squeezing Jake’s hand, not daring to glance back.

But it couldn’t be Will! How could he have found her already? She’d been so careful…

The footsteps—several of them—came closer, and within seconds, men boxed her and Jake on all sides. There was no way out. She stopped in the middle of the footpath and looked up at the man facing her—a dark stranger wearing a menacing look.

The voice came from behind her, smooth and rich yet full of venom. “Why, it’s the lovely Miss Donovan. Fancy meeting you here. In Liverpool, of all places.”

Oh, God. Tears squeezed unbidden out of her eyes as she closed them. It wasn’t Will—it was Caversham.

For God’s sake, how had he found her? Gathering Jake, who was squirming to get a better view of his father, into her arms, she dodged under the arm of the dark man blocking her path and ran into the busy street.

But she was too slow. In seconds, Caversham had grabbed her arm and yanked her back onto the footpath.

She glanced around. Pedestrians were scattered about, and the traffic was thick. What would happen if she screamed?

Caversham jerked her around so she was looking into his pale face, into his cold blue eyes and the swoop of black hair he oiled straight and parted severely in the center. His face was narrow but sculpted, and his top lip so thin it was nearly invisible, especially when it was curled in anger, like now.

His blue eyes glinted at her. So like Jake’s… and yet so different. Narrow and hateful as opposed to wide and innocent.

So many people would agree that she’d done wrong by taking Jake from him. So many people would think that hanging was a just punishment for her. But they didn’t know this man.

And there, right in the middle of the street with dozens of onlookers, he slapped her so hard, the breath whooshed out of her and spots scattered in her vision.

Jake cried out as she bent forward, and he slid out of her arms. But he was just as afraid of his father as she was, so he buried himself in her skirts as if he could make himself invisible in them.

She fumbled for him, trying to soothe, trying to keep him as calm as possible, even as her jaw throbbed and she tasted blood in her mouth.

“Pardon me, is there a problem here?” A man had stopped just behind Caversham and was glancing warily from him to Meg.

“Indeed, there is,” Caversham said. “But I am taking care of it. Thank you for your concern, good sir.”

The man glanced at the brutes, at Caversham, then nervously back to Meg. She bit back the “Please, help me!” that was looming on her tongue. All she needed was to bring yet another innocent into this.

It was difficult, though. She knew she must look horrid, with blood dripping down her chin and an expression of terror on her face. But the man glanced back at the thugs again and then turned to Caversham. “I believe you’ve injured this lady.”

“You’re quite mistaken, sir,” Caversham said. Responding to the nod of his head, his men moved forward. One of them held a gun partially concealed by his coat. He pointed it at the man, who stepped back shakily, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat.

“I don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, no,” Caversham said. “Neither do we. Go along now, and we’ll take care of this.”

With one last guilty glance at Meg, the man hurried away.

“Well now, that was awkward.” Caversham gestured behind them, and Meg realized a small black carriage was parked a few yards back on the road, its coachman and the horses poised for movement. “Why don’t we go into my carriage and talk this through.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a command. But once he had her out of sight of the public, what would he do to her?

Jake whimpered and burrowed deeper into her skirts. Caversham glanced down at him and rolled his eyes heavenward but didn’t comment.

Meg struggled to gain some control over her fear so
she could speak. Finally, she murmured, “How did you find us?”

Caversham’s lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Why, it was almost too easy.” Taking her arm in a bruising grip, he said, “Come. Let’s walk a ways, and I shall tell you.”

Not having any choice in the matter, she took Jake’s hand and allowed Caversham to drag them along the footpath.

“It begins with you, my dear. Your foolish plan to escape to Ireland.”

“How did you—?”

Caversham waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, please, Miss Donovan. Do you really think yourself so sly? Sarah told me years ago that you have family in Ireland. Knowing I might need to use them someday, I found that they all live in Cork, and I’ve kept a close eye on them ever since. When you disappeared from the
Defiant
in Irish waters, it was clear to me where you intended to go.”

Meg nearly groaned. Even after all these years, she’d still underestimated Caversham.

“But alas, when I searched there, you were nowhere to be found. Which left me with two possibilities: either you perished in that nasty squall or you had gone to England instead.

“The heroic Captain Langley cleared up that confusion quite rapidly. I have known for years of his close ties to your family. First, he arrived in London out of the blue—a very odd appearance when my sources say the Crown had engaged him to search for smugglers along the Cornwall coast. Then, only a few weeks after his odd appearance, he left London suddenly and without any
sort of explanation. When his builders in Liverpool began scrambling to complete work months early on his steamship, I knew without a doubt that all these strange behaviors must have something to do with you.”