The Last Broken Promise (17 page)

“Jess,” he began.

She swiftly cut him off. “Do not be so free with my name, Lord Maitland. It is not your right, nor my desire, to hear it fall so easily from your lips.”

He nodded. It was nothing more than he deserved. “Miss St. John, I fully understand. If you’ll allow me, I will just say, once again, that I’m truly sorry my behavior.”

“Any one of my brothers would kill you, if they knew what you’d done.” Her words were cold, dismissive even. She drew a shaking finger up to soothe her ruddy, chafed lips.

Finn got up from the bed. “One of them may have the opportunity to do so soon,” he answered. There was no emotion in his comment.

“What?” she asked, alarmed. “What do you mean?”

“Your brother Griffin’s ship has been hard on our heels all day. By dawn, if the storm holds, he’ll catch us. If it’s your will. I will present myself to him. We can resolve the slight to your reputation, at his pleasure.”

“Are you insane?” She bolted from the toasty confines of the bed. She stood before him, night rail floating, arms akimbo. “Griffin has the temperament of a bee-stung bull. He will cut you down, before either of us has the chance to say a word in your defense.”

“I won’t make a defense for my actions. And neither will you,” Finn informed her.

“You are mad!”

She marched over him. She grabbed the sleeve his coat. She shoved him towards the door. “Get up to the deck, tell my aunt I’ll be joining you both as soon as I get dressed. Do not, upon any circumstances, tell her about that bloody kiss. As you said earlier, it was just a careless mistake. One we will not discuss or repeat. Ever.”

Finn bristled. “It was a mistake. I fully acknowledge the recklessness of my deed. But I will not agree that such an intimacy will never be repeated.”

“Madman!” Jess protested. “It may have escaped your addled notice, but I’m trying to
save
your worthless hide.”

His jaw tightened. “I need no saving. Especially not by your pitiful efforts.”

“Don’t you understand? Griffin is an acclaimed swordsman with a temper as hot as a South American pepper. He will kill you where you stand, if you but hint at having touched me.”

“He can try,” Finn drawled. “And I will not be doing any cowardly hinting. I will tell the man straight up, that I offered you insult.”

“You are being an idiot,” she raged up at him.

“I hope Griffin’s not your favorite.”

“My favorite what?”

“Brother.”

“Why would that matter?”

“I have some little skill with a sword,” he acknowledged. It was no boast. Finn had a fierce reputation as a ruthless warrior and duelist.

“You will not kill my brother,” Jess ordered.

“Of course, I won’t. Not on purpose. But, I’ll be honest with you, Jess. Sometimes, in the heat of battle, things go awry.” He shrugged.

She marched to within scant inches of the tall man. She began speaking, all the while drumming her finger into his taut chest to punctuate her every word. “You will not tell Griffin, or anyone else, that we kissed.”

“If that is your will. But Jess, I can’t, in good conscience, claim I won’t ever kiss you again.”

“You’re a pirate,” she wailed in frustration. “I didn’t think you had a conscience.”

“I don’t, except where you’re concerned,” he confessed.

Her arguing stopped instantly. Now she looked uncomfortable. As if what he’d said somehow made her wish to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

“I’m not threatening you. And I’m not trying to set up a flirtation with you,” he said in a low intense way. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I don’t think you’re trying to threaten me,” she said suddenly intrigued by the wall behind him. Jess eyed it steadily.

Finn knew well that the girl was intrigued by him. But he hoped that’s as far as her interest in him went. This, this fiendish attraction was most likely just a novel experience for her. Yes, that was it exactly. Jessamine St. John was a sheltered, inexperienced young woman. Only a scant breath removed from adolescence. Od course she’d be interested in exploring the physical side of her nature. But she’d need to do that with some other man. Some better man. He was a rogue and rake, and he knew it. That’s why he was taking such pains to warn her of his lack of self-control where she was concerned. He wished there was something he could say, something he could do, that would reassure her of his good intentions.

He had plenty of skills when it came to charming a woman. He’d bent the most recalcitrant of females to his will, over the years. But he’d absolutely no experience in calming the fears of a gently-raised girl.

“It’s not that I’d take advantage of you,” he began a long, drawn out, and convoluted explanation. His words were rife with stops, stumbles, and odd turns of phrase. “Let me assure you…, I’m not a man who forces women. I’d never… that is to say, I couldn’t.” Here he drew in a huge breath and expelled it in a gale-sized gust. “I just want to protect you. I don’t want to
do
anything… uh… carnal with you.”

That made her face whip up to face him. “Haven’t we had this conversation, or one very like it before?” she asked bleakly. Jess didn’t think her heart was up to another rejection. She’d barely come to terms with the last one from this man.

“Please listen carefully to me, Miss St. John,” he demanded.

“Jess,” she corrected. “I do believe after what we just shared, on that bed, calling me by my first name is acceptable.”

He shuddered slightly when she used the words
bed
and
shared
. “Jess, you’ll need to begin filtering your words before they exit your mouth, if you ever hope to prosper in polite society.”

“I can’t believe I’m being lectured on the finer points of court manners by a pirate,” the girl muttered. Her eyes narrowed as she confronted McLeod. “Let me make this easy for you, shall I?”

Now Finn’s eyes slitted. He didn’t like her sarcastic tone. And he certainly didn’t intend to be handed a resounding lecture by this little slip of lace and feminine mayhem.

“I’m trying to save you,” he said in exasperation.

“I don’t need you to save me,” she retorted. “I don’t need anybody to save me. I’m in no danger. My one task is to get to London and give someone a simple message. What possible harm could befall me?”

“You
are
in danger. Someone attacked you. And what is this nonsense about a message? Your aunt told me even she has no idea what you’re truly about, once we arrive in London.”

“It’s none of your business. And what danger am I in now, pray tell?” she demanded with a haughty tilt to her small aristocratic nose.

“I’m the captain of this ship. Your welfare is my concern. Everything that happens here is my business.”

“Not this,” Jess replied mulishly. “And as to the so-called danger you insist on puling about.” She snapped her fingers, with a startling crack, directly under his nose. “This is what I think of your mad ramblings on the topic. Yes, some sailor accosted me. But now that we know someone would do such as that, I’m in no danger. I’m better guarded than the king’s jewel house.”

Finn’s jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth. Everything in him wanted to shake Miss Jessamine St. John to within an inch of her life. The chit should have been spanked more as a child.

He thought of his last voyage to Newfoundland. It had been in the dead of an almost polar winter. He summoned up the remembrance of icy winds and frozen decks. He dwelt for several seconds on how frostbite had threatened his extremities. Once he felt he’d gained some modicum of control over his raging temper, he spoke. The words were calm and measured. But they had a ruthless, deadly impact.

“You are in danger, if from no other source but me. I can’t seem to keep my hands off you. I don’t know why. And I don’t like how I react to you. I’m at a loss to explain the effect you have upon me. But even if I could curb my instinctive reactions around you, I cannot allow you to blithely traipse through London, on your own.”

“But I won’t be alone. Aunt Dorcas will accompany me to Arthur Bassett’s office.” She gasped as she realized what she’d unintentionally revealed. She turned to dart away.

Finn held up a hand to stall her from running headlong from the cabin. “Your aunt is not a sufficient incentive for you to be left alone on the filthy streets of London. Crime runs rife through the city, as does sewage. The scum of civilization makes its home in the grime alleys and broad filthy thoroughfares. Your appearance alone, will ensure you are a target.”

“What’s wrong with the way I look? I can assure you, I’ll be modestly dressed. Who would accost a nun?”

“Any man with criminal intentions, who sees your face, will swiftly discount your threadbare habit. And you have no business conducting any discourse with Arthur Bassett. If you have a message for him, I will take it to him.”

“You’re making this much more complicated than it has to be,” Jess continued to plead her case. “I’m a very ordinary looking woman. I can hide effectively behind my wimple and cape.”

“Bloody Hades!” he roared. It appeared he’d finally lost control of his fury. “You are not ordinary. You are stunning. Beautiful beyond the hot dreams of a man’s lust. And you will not walk abroad in London with only your aunt as escort. You say you have aspirations to the veil. But your behavior is more like that of a woman who works a crib in a low brothel.”

Jess slapped him without thought. And she didn’t back down. “That, sir, was a foul thing to say.”

Instead of returning her violence, the big man gathered her into his arms. He whispered into her hair. “You’re right. I beg your pardon. I had no right to upbraid you so roughly. But the thought of you, alone on the streets, drives me mad, Jess. There’s no other way to explain it. I lose all my reason when I imagine you being harmed. Thinking of you being ill-used sets free a beast within me. I’m sorry, my love. I don’t seem to have control over it.”

Jess heard his words. They comforted an unknown wound in her aching heart. She decided to savor this stolen moment in his arms. She felt the hard muscled length of his body against hers. She reveled in the warmth of his breath on her cheek. The rasp of his face against her was pure heaven. His lemon and clove scent was heady. Everything about Finn McLeod sent her senses reeling.

But Jess knew she could not lie to herself and pretend he was hers. He wasn’t her fiancé. And he never be. She was not his lover, nor even his sweetheart. She was just the woman who’d blackmailed him. The sooner she drew back from the haven his arms, the better. She’d need to establish their relationship, or their lack of one, again. Though it sorely pained her, she would do it. Jess would do it because it was the right thing. And it was the good thing. And, for his sake, it was the honest thing. But she would always regret the price she’d be forced to pay.

“Finn, I’m not your love. It is a lie for you to call me such,” she said it with as much kindliness as she could muster.

“It was but an endearment,” he said, suddenly coming to his senses. He backed away from her.

“I understand.” She nodded. Jess took her time smoothing the tumbled hair away from her face. “And I understand that you are frustrated with me. I wish I could change.”

“Never change.” His hoarse words cut her off in mid-sentence. His eyes burned with unspent passion.

“Everyone changes,” she rasped.

He remained silent but shook his head. “You are everything bright and lovely and pure. Never change.” It wasn’t a comment so much as a directive. “If you are set upon this madness with Arthur Bassett, I will take you to him.”

Jess was startled by the ease of familiarity with which Finn spoke of the Mother Superior’s friend. It was almost as if he knew the man.

“First, I will need to find Mr. Bassett,” she hedged. Jess hadn’t made up her mind concerning just how far she would let Finn become entangled in the this errand of hers. America’s Commisioner of Peace would surely look askance at entertaining a known pirate.

“I know where he conducts his business.”

Jess frowned. “You do?”

“He holds court in a disreputable tavern. It’s a derelict place on the wrong side of the Thames.”

“How would you know that?”

“I work for the man, Jess,” he admitted. Doing so, he knew, put his very life at risk.

“You work for Arthur Basset?”

“I do. I have for almost fifteen years. He plucked me off the streets. He gave me the chance of a new life. One where it didn’t matter who my father was. One where my antecedents were not an issue.”

“But… but he’s the American Commissioner of Peace. You’re a pirate.”

“I’m
rumored
to be a pirate, it’s true. But I my true occupation is more eclectic.”

“There’re just rumors. The tales of your thieving?”

Finn shrugged. “I’ve liberated a few men and goods from the odd foreign ship. But like your brother Griffin, I’ve done it legally.”

“You possess letters of marque?” She still couldn’t settle her mind around the fact that he wasn’t a criminal.

Finn nodded. He’d told her far too much already. Her life might be in jeopardy, if anyone guessed how much she knew about him.