Captain of My Heart (20 page)

“You’re going back to your room. We’ll both
be safer that way!”

“Safer from what?”

He tried to pull her—she planted her feet—and
in one swift movement, he slid his arms beneath her legs and
hoisted her, easily, up into his arms. Her feet swung as he carried
her to the door.

“Brendan, what’s the matter?”

He opened the door, deposited her on her feet
in the hall, and shut the door.

Mira was left standing on the cold floor,
confused, thwarted, and more than a little angry. She stared at the
door, her blood throbbing, her heart pounding, her body needful of
something she didn’t understand. Damn him! What the hell was wrong
with him? Didn’t most men
welcome
a woman’s attention?

Did he find her wanting?

Cursing, she stalked back to her own room,
her eyes narrowed. Whatever the handsome Captain Merrick was
running from, she’d find out what it was. He couldn’t run forever.
Sooner or later, he’d kiss her again.

She’d make sure of it.

And in the meantime, she’d make damn sure she
was on that schooner’s maiden voyage.

Chapter
11

A strong easterly wind kept
Kestrel
bottled up in harbor the next day. Mira watched from her window as
Brendan, Father, and Matt drove down to the waterfront to inspect
the ship, then wasted no time in setting to work on Eveleen
Merrick.

If she wanted to sneak aboard
Kestrel
when she made her maiden cruise—without Brendan’s or Father’s
knowledge—she had to win Eveleen’s friendship, and subsequently her
promise to keep her presence aboard the schooner a secret. That
was, of course, a lot to ask—but Mira had a very attractive
bargaining tool in mind.

Matthew.

She’d have to be blind not to realize that
Eveleen was totally smitten with her brother.

She laughed to herself, picked up Rescue
Effort Number One, and buried her cheek against his soft fur. Of
course, winning Eveleen’s friendship had other advantages, too.
Mira had been truthful in wanting to help the girl find meaning in
her life once more, but she also realized something else—that
Eveleen could be quite valuable when it came to securing the
interest—and attentions—of her brother, the captain.

Mira stood by the window for a long time,
scheming. She’d have to find a way to keep Eveleen occupied while
she was out on
Kestrel.
The girl would be left in the house
with just Father, the staff, and sometimes Matt. There was always
Abigail, of course, who could take her under her wing when Mira
wasn’t there—but Mira was looking for something that would start
Eveleen on the path to liking herself, something that would build
her confidence, something that would help turn her into a woman
they all could live with.

Especially Matt.

Which is where the horses would come in.

Eveleen was terrified of them. But if she
taught her the basics, such as feeding and grooming, and Eveleen
practiced working around them while she was gone, then she’d be
well on her way to gaining self-confidence just by getting over
that terror.

Of course, that would mean starting as soon
as possible—for Brendan planned to take
Kestrel
on her
maiden voyage tomorrow.

Steeling herself for a fight, she picked up
her riding crop, went to Eveleen’s room, and knocked loudly.
“Eveleen?”

The girl was still in her nightgown, sitting
up in bed with a tray balanced on her legs. On it were two muffins,
the remains of several more, and a huge glass of milk. She looked
up, saw Mira, and instantly her features took on a sour look.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Mira said. “But
I ain’t gonna dwell on it and neither are you. You and I are
starting over. Now, get into your old clothes, and make it snappy.”
She was going to have to use force and not pamper the girl. “It’s
already late and we’ve work to do if you expect to be riding that
mare anytime soon.”

Eveleen glared at her from the bed and said
haughtily, “I don’t have any old clothes.”

“Fine, then. You can wear what you had on
yesterday. That pink dress, without the jewelry.”

“But—”

“First, you’re going to learn how to feed and
water a horse. Then you’re going to learn how to groom and take
care of her. That includes mucking out stalls and picking manure
out of her hooves—”

“Picking manure!” Eveleen gasped, going white
with horror.

“Aye, picking manure. Now, hurry up.”

“But I can’t wear my pink dress.”

“Then don’t. But find something, ’cause I’m
not waiting all day.”

Eveleen glared at her.

Mira grinned.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Eveleen
snarled.

“’Cause your brother asked me to.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” Eveleen said smugly, her smile
growing malicious.

“Well, it oughtta be,” Mira snapped,
unwilling to back down, “because I happen to know that you fancy
my
brother.” She smiled as Eveleen paled. “So there.”

Eveleen’s eyes were full of hatred. She said
nothing, only slid her maimed hand beneath the covers.

“Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of saying
anything to Matthew,” Mira said. “In fact, I would love nothing
more than to see him and you together. I think you would be
wonderful for him. But he won’t even look at you unless you take
charge of your life and stop bein’ so miserable. You can be happy,
Eveleen, with a little work. That’s what I’m here for. To make you
work.”

“Work?”

“Aye, work. To that end, I have a bargain for
you.” She turned and crossed her arms. “You help me net your
brother, and I’ll help you net mine.”

“
What?
”

“Your brother’s a real test of my patience.
He’s terrified of me, though God only knows why. But I think I want
to marry him . . . provided, of course, he passes the Test.”

“
Marry? Test?
”

“Aye. I have to see him in action aboard the
schooner so I can judge his competence as a mariner . . . and that
is where I need your help.”

Eveleen stared at her as if she’d lost her
mind. Then Mira began to walk the room again, slapping the riding
crop against her palm as she outlined her scheme to go aboard
Kestrel,
and stressing the need for secrecy and cooperation
on Eveleen’s part. When she’d finished, distrust warred with wary
interest in the other woman’s eyes. “So, what is in this for
me?”

“Why, Matthew, of course.”

“I fail to see how.”

“You leave matters up to me, and I promise
you my brother’ll be yours before summer’s end.” Mira crossed her
arms and gave Eveleen a level look. “But that requires doing
everything and anything that I ask of you, no matter how unpleasant
you find it.”

It was a challenge, and Eveleen knew it.

Mira watched the suspicion in Eveleen’s eyes
become the barest glimmer of hope. The other woman then glanced
away, and picked up a muffin.

Mira stepped forward and took it away. “You
can have your breakfast later,” she said, ignoring Eveleen’s
suddenly mutinous look. “In this house, we take care of the horses
first.”

“You take care of them. I can’t hold a bucket
or a brush, anyhow.”

“You can, too.”

“I cannot. My hand’s useless. I’m a
cripple.”

“You only need one hand to hold a bucket or a
brush, or, for that matter, a halter or the reins.”

“I said
,
I’m a cripple!” Eveleen
shouted.

Mira sat down on the bed. She reached out,
took the tray, and set it on the table behind her, out of Eveleen’s
reach. Tears glittered in the girl’s eyes, bitter tears that she
tried to hide by turning away. Gently Mira reached out and touched
her arm.

“Eveleen . . . you don’t have to hide your
hand from me.”

“It’s hideous.”

“It is not.”

“How do you know? You’ve never seen it!”

“I have, too,” Mira said, softly. “Last
night.”

Anger, hatred, and betrayal glittered in
Eveleen’s eyes. “You’re a bitch,” she whispered, trying not to
cry.

“I’ll tell you something, Eveleen.”
Unflinchingly, Mira met the other woman’s accusing stare. “You know
how I said I’m doing this for Brendan?”

Eveleen set her jaw, and tears of hatred
stood poised on the tips of her lashes.

“Well, I lied.” Mira stood up. “I’m doing it
for you.” With that, she strode from the room. She felt Eveleen’s
gaze boring into her back. She heard her quick sniffle and the
catch of her breath.

Don’t disappoint me, Eveleen
.
Show
me what you’re made of.

She’d reached the door when Eveleen’s
tremulous voice stopped her. “Mira?”

She paused, and turned.

Eveleen looked down, biting her lip. “Do you
think you might have some . . . old clothes for me to borrow?”

“Well now, I believe I just might.” Mira
said, grinning, and slapped her crop a final time against her hand.
“Come with me, and let’s see what we can find.”

Chapter 12

The following morning, Newburyport awoke to a
pink and pewter horizon hiding beneath gray clouds that promised
bad weather. The morning grew slowly darker as the clouds piled in.
By the time Brendan had shaved, dressed, and bolted down a plate of
fried hasty pudding smothered in molasses, it was snowing hard.

Pulling his tricorne low, he stood outside in
the falling snow, waiting for Ephraim and glancing up at Mira’s
darkened window. She had not appeared at the breakfast table, nor
had she come down to see him off, and her absence made him feel
strangely empty inside, hollow-hearted and sad. Doubtless she was
not only bewildered by his flighty behavior of the other night, but
also hurt and downright angry. But faith, didn’t she realize what
she was
doing
to him? How close she’d driven him to
succumbing to the sweet temptations of her delightful little body?
What was he to do, stay there and make love to her in her father’s
own house?

Great white flakes of snow tingled upon his
cheeks, caked on his eyelashes, melted in clean, cold rivulets that
ran down his face and drove the achy tiredness from his still foggy
brain. He tore his gaze from that empty window and dug his boot
into the fresh snow. Maybe it was good he was going away for a few
days. Maybe it was best that he put some distance between himself
and the feisty little hoyden—

“Ye ready there, boy?” Ephraim came out of
the barn, leading a fractious, prancing El Nath, who didn’t look
happy about being hitched to the smart red sleigh.

Brendan shot a last glance at that darkened
window, eyed the unruly black stallion with no small degree of
trepidation, and with a fleeting, nervous grin, climbed up into the
sleigh beside the old shipbuilder. Fumes of rum hit him in the
face. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Well then, let’s be off before we miss the
tide. It’s already—” Ephraim tore his mitten off with his teeth,
yanked out a watch, and studied it with a scrunched-up scowl.
“—half past six, and the crowds’ll be gatherin’ down at the wharf
to watch. Don’t wanna be late, eh? Cripes, they’d never let me
forgit it down at Davenport’s!” He cracked the air over El Nath’s
head with a whip. “Gee-dup there, ye ornery ole nag!”

The sleigh’s runners whispered through fresh
snow as they swept down the driveway and into the street. Plumes of
steam rose from El Nath’s flared nostrils, snow crusted his flying
black mane, and the patriotic red and white ribbons on his harness
streamed back in the wind.

Brendan felt a thrill go through him.
Today was the day!
Down at the waterfront,
Kestrel
was waiting. He sat a little straighter on the cold, hard seat and
drew his cloak around his fine new uniform, fidgeting with
excitement.

“Hee, hee, hee, would ye look at the old
devil!” Ephraim, his cheeks red with cold, flashed him a yellowish
grin. “Acting just like he knows the day’s a special one, eh,
Merrick?”

But Brendan wasn’t looking at the stallion.
As they passed darkened houses sleeping beneath snowy roofs, the
people, already out of their warm beds and stoking up dying fires,
came running out on their doorsteps to wave and shout and cheer,
some still holding candles and clad in their nightgowns and
banyans. He swallowed hard, dreading the reception that no doubt
awaited him at the waterfront.

He was not disappointed. The people were
there, all right, bundled up in thick woolen coats and scarves,
milling about and obviously waiting for him. At sight of the
sleigh, they gave a wild, roaring cheer and rushed forward, hauling
him out of it, clapping him on the back, and toasting him with mugs
of hot buttered rum and steaming black coffee. A group of young
lads, their noses red with cold, struck up “Free America” on fife
and drum, a cannon banged from somewhere nearby, and then he looked
out to the river.

The crowd’s roar dimmed. The music faded
away. He heard nothing but the ice floes that drove up against the
shore and creaked and groaned like a square rigger in a gale. Felt
nothing but the snow melting on his cheeks.

And saw nothing but
her
.

She stood out in the river, proud, lovely,
and impatient, shifting her weight from beam to beam as though she
had no use for the land and was quite eager to be free of it. The
current was so strong, it made a little wake against her bow, and
high up, almost lost in the clouds, pennants fluttered from her
masthead with joyous abandon. Her deck was crowded with seamen,
officers, and the rifle-toting backwoodsmen who would serve as her
marines. Someone must have seen him standing there, for there was
suddenly a flurry of activity as his crew prepared to receive
him.

He was dimly aware of Matthew detaching
himself from the arm of a young woman nearby, and hauling him
through the parting crowd and down to the wharf, where
Kestrel
’s boat waited. A small group of seamen, handpicked
by Liam himself, rowed him out to her, their oars rising and
falling in perfect unison through the ice-clogged water. Their
discipline would have done a king’s ship proud. They passed beneath
the sharp-eyed little hawk that was the schooner’s figurehead—and
then the boat was alongside.