The Pirate Takes A Bride (11 page)

She had frequent glimpses of Nick. The ship was not so large that he would have been able to hide from her, even if he had been the hiding sort. But he did not sleep in the great cabin or make any effort to speak to her again. He was absorbed in his role as captain, and she did not think his preoccupation all for show. He pushed his men hard, almost as hard as he pushed himself, and they rose to the task. Obviously, they were as eager as he was to reach Isla de las Riquezas.

On the third day after the attack, the fifth day at sea, Ashley was teeming with energy. She caught Mr. Fellowes on deck. “Mr. Fellowes, I’d like an occupation. Something to help the ship and the men.”

He gave her a suspicious look then said, reluctantly, “Mrs. Captain could talk to Mr. Chante. He might have something.”

Ashley had spoken to Mr. Chante after the storm in order to obtain soap to wash herself and bed linens. He hadn’t seemed to like her much. “Thank you, Mr. Fellowes. Do you know where I might find him?”

“Last I saw him was below deck with Mr. Carey, lookin’ at the hull.”

Ashley scampered across the deck to the ladderway near the hull, congratulating herself on how easily she navigated the ship now, climbing about almost like a true sailor. She jumped off the bottom rung to the floor when a hand wrapped around her waist and hauled her into the companionway. She tried to scream, but a dirty hand covered her mouth and hauled her into a fetid, darkness.

Ashley tried to bite the hand, to kick the man holding her, but he merely chuckled in her ear. “Argh.”

 

SEVEN

 

N
ick had been avoiding his cabin. More accurately, he’d been avoiding Ashley. He’d been sleeping in a hammock with the men the last few nights, and he hadn’t minded much. It reminded him of his days in the navy. But after three days he wanted a shave and a change of clothes. He found his cabin boy, ordered hot water, and steeled himself for confrontation.

His termagant wife wasn’t on deck. If she had been on deck, he would have known exactly where she was and what she was doing. Even when he wished to forget her, forget he had a wife, he could not seem to make his gaze cease following her or his body stop tingling with awareness. If he’d been younger and blissfully ignorant, he would have blamed his predicament on having been too long without a woman. Nick was wiser now. He’d tried to forget about Ashley in the arms of other women. It hadn’t worked.

He must have sighed a bit too loudly at one point when she was on deck, looking lovely even in her stained dress and his cavalier hat, because Chante said, “Yer staring so hard, it hurts me eyes.”

Nick had thought to reprimand his quartermaster for the familiarity, but there weren’t any other men within earshot at the moment, and Nick had always considered the man a friend. “She’s hard to look away from.”

The quartermaster crossed his arms over his broad chest, bare under the leather vest he wore. “I like a woman with substance. I’d be half afraid to crush that one.”

Nick laughed, eliciting a few looks from the men and even one from Ashley. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“Aye.” Chante nodded. “Then take her below and have yer fill.”

Nick raised a brow. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mr. Chante, but she doesn’t care for me much.”

Chante shrugged. “Never known a woman you couldn’t charm.”

True. And Nick thought he probably could charm Ashley, if he’d wanted to. But he didn’t want to woo her, to seduce her with pretty words and compliments. The last time they’d been together, she’d proved she did want him. He wanted more than a night with her, wanted more than a tumble. Considering their past, the probability of her believing him was about as high as their chances of spotting a mermaid.

And so Nick was pleasantly surprised when he arrived in the great cabin and Ashley was not present. But after he’d washed, shaved, and changed clothing, and she still had not made an appearance, he called Mr. Fellowes. The sailor had just explained about sending her to the carpenter when Nick heard the commotion. His gaze met Fellowes’s. “I think I hear her now, Mr. Fellowes.”

Indeed, she was swearing as skillfully as any sailor, and as he poked his head on deck from the ladderway, he saw she was surrounded by several sailors. Red, his bos’n, had her arms locked behind her back, and she was fighting for release. Nick saw nothing but another man’s hands on her and charged along the deck with an angry growl. The men stepped aside, and Red, seeing his captain’s look went slack. It earned him an elbow in the gut from Ashley.

“If you so much as dare touch her again, Mr. Red, I’ll feed you to the sharks in tiny pieces,” Nick threatened.

Red released her, and she stumbled forward. Nick glanced at her then looked more closely. Her dress was torn—well, more torn—her cheeks red, and her shoulders bore handprints. He took her elbow and pulled her close. He needed to touch her as much as he wanted to protect her. “What happened to you? Did he lay hands on you?”

Nick heard a loud sound and looked at Mr. Chante as the quartermaster cleared his throat. “Actually, I believe Mr. Johnson be the injured party, Cap’n.” Chante stepped aside and Nick noted the sailor on his knees, hunched over in pain.

“What happened?”

Johnson looked up. His lip was bleeding and he had what looked like claw marks on his cheek. “She attacked me!”

Nick looked at Ashley again. Her head was high and her sea-green eyes challenged him to question her. Nick’s gaze lowered to the handprints on her shoulder again. “And this was unprovoked?”

“I didn’t do nothing. She came at me, the she-devil, and attacked me. Little bitch raked those—”

Nick had his hand around Johnson’s throat as he lifted the man off the ground and slammed him into the mizzenmast. “Take care to remember that is my wife you are speaking of.”

Johnson’s eyes bulged.

“Now, are you certain this is the story you wish to tell?
She
attacked you? Entirely unprovoked?”

Johnson began to nod, and Nick squeezed, narrowing his eyes. “I will not hesitate to keelhaul you if you lie.” Nick lowered Johnson and loosened his grip. “Care to try again?”

Johnson’s gaze was dark. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. I might have surprised her, is all.”

Nick raised his brows.

“Captain,” Johnson said grudgingly.

“Surprised her,” Nick said, looking pointedly at the blood running down Johnson’s chin. “It looks like you were the one surprised.” He stepped back from the sailor and removed a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat. Nick made a show of wiping his hands. “Send him to the topmast and tie him there, Mr. Chante.”

“What?” Johnson screeched. “I didn’t do nothing! She’s the one that hit me.”

Nick didn’t glance at the man; he kept his gaze on Chante. Chante nodded, motioned to two sailors, and the men jumped to carry out the order. When Johnson was on the topmast, and his protests fading away, Nick met the eyes of every man on deck. Most of them had come to see what all the shouting was about, and those who weren’t present would be apprised by their friends who were.

“I didn’t think it necessary to say this, but in case anyone else has doubts, let me make it clear. The woman is mine. Touch her and you’ll wish for death. Johnson stays in the topmast for twenty-four hours. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain!” the crew chorused.

Nick strode away, anger coursing through him. He didn’t know where he was headed until he reached his cabin and found his cabin boy straightening up. “Out,” he barked. The boy jumped to obey. “Wait,” Nick said. “Where is my cravat?” If he was going to act like a prig, he wanted to look like one.

The woman is mine
. Had he actually said that? Ashley was going to blister his ears the next time they were alone. He’d tell her he’d said it to protect her. That was partly true. He wouldn’t mention the other part, which was that he had come to think of her as his. When they’d rode away from Gretna Green, all he could think was how to be rid of her. He didn’t want a wife, but somehow over the past few days, he’d begun to think of her as Lady Nicholas. He’d looked at her and thought less of how he could rid himself of her and more about how he could make her his in more than name.

He dismissed his cabin boy again, and opened his wardrobe to peer in the mirror while he tied his cravat. He was finishing the simple knot when his door opened again. In the mirror, his gaze met Ashley’s. “I’ll be done in a moment and leave you to your solitude,” he said.

She nodded, closed the door behind her, and leaned on it. “Are you going somewhere that requires a cravat?”

“No harm in looking like the captain if I’m going to issue orders like the ones I did a moment ago.”

“You didn’t ask me what happened.”

He turned to her. “I know what happened. Johnson waited for an opportunity to get you alone and then tried to force himself on you. He didn’t expect you to fight back. I imagine the noise brought others, and they hauled you both on deck.”

“You don’t believe his story?”

Nick raised a brow. “You have your moments, but I’ve never known you to attack anyone—physically or verbally—without cause.”

“What’s to become of him?” she asked. “You said tie him to the mast?”

“Yes. He’ll be lucky if I don’t throw him overboard. Unless I see a change in him, the next port we make, he’ll be escorted off the ship and left to find his own way home.”

“But…what if you are wrong about me? What if he was telling the truth?”

“Was he?”

She looked away, and he moved to stand before her. “What’s this about?”

“I don’t want to be the cause of a man’s suffering. The topmast is so high. He’ll be battered by the wind and the sun.”

Nick nodded. “Mast-heading is not pleasant, but it’s the law of the sea.” He would have preferred to give the man twenty lashes, but that would probably elicit a mutiny.

She looked at him then, her eyes filled with pleading. “But you don’t have to enforce that law. You are the captain.”

“And if I don’t enforce the law, then what happens the next time one of the men doesn’t feel like obeying orders? What if we’re in the middle of battle and one of my sharpshooters doesn’t want to risk death to defend the ship?”

She shook her head and he bent close to her. “Do you know why men risk their lives for me?”

“You pay them?”

He laughed. “Because I inspire fear and respect, and it’s not always clear where fear stops and respect begins. I’m not mast-heading that man for you. I’m punishing him because he didn’t respect me.” He straightened again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a ship to captain.” She moved away from the door, and as she did so, she murmured.

“You don’t own me.”

He grinned. “I was waiting for my set down.”

“Between you and me, I’m not your property. I don’t care what the law says. But I understand why you said what you did. Thank you.”

Nick stared at her for a long moment, expecting her to say more, expecting her to somehow negate the last statement. Ashley had thanked him? She’d agreed with one of his decisions—well, not so much agreed as accepted it. There was hope for them yet.

“You can go now,” she ordered.

He sighed. And he might still spot that mermaid.

W
hen he was gone, Ashley leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. What a little fool she’d been! She’d allowed her anger at Nick to cloud her judgment. She needed him. This wasn’t London, where she had the Brittany name and her five brothers’ brute strength behind her. This wasn’t Bond Street with a footman tailing her. This was a pirate ship. She was vulnerable, and the only thing protecting her from horrors she did not want to consider was Nick.

She hadn’t considered the way the men on the ship looked at her. Men always looked at her, but those men were kept at a distance by servants or by the code of the gentleman. These men were not gentleman, as Johnson had so adroitly proven. She wasn’t safe, and her missteps meant a man was suffering.

Johnson had done little more than scare her and leave a bruise on her arm. She had five brothers and knew quite well how to defend herself, but if the other sailors hadn’t come to her aid, her defense would not have won the day. A few well placed kicks and jabs were no match for a man who outweighed her by four or five stone and had twice as much strength as she. What if Nick had not believed her? What if he had not claimed her?

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