Capture The Night (11 page)

“You hate it, too, don’t you Brazos? That’s what lay behind all that talk earlier. The apology, the gift.” She stepped away from him and, in the darkness, crossed her arms and fussed. “You’ve no intention of changing your opinion about a woman’s place in society, do you? It was all a scheme to get me to allow you into my bed!” She sniffed disdainfully, then wished she hadn’t. She kept forgetting about the corpse.

Madeline sat beside Brazos. She wrapped an arm around his and said ruefully, “Actually, you presented a fine argument. You exploited my weaknesses. I’m impressed, Sinclair, I didn’t think you had that sort of scheming in you. Of course, I undoubtedly have more practice at it than you, and I’d have determined your game in short order—probably when you went glassy-eyed hearing me talk about women’s talents.”

She chuckled softly, and the more she thought about it, the more intriguing the idea became. Brazos Sinclair sharing a bunk with her each night. It offered interesting possibilities.

As she sat in the dark, Madeline’s heart told her to help this poor man, to offer him the comfort of her bed, and the protection her company appeared to provide him. But Madeline had been a thief too long to listen only to her heart. She put her mind to work.

She knew what such an arrangement would bring Brazos, but what would it offer her? Her goals in life had not changed. She still wanted a real home and a family to love, including a wonderful father for Rose and any other children a marriage might bring.

Brazos Sinclair wasn’t part of that dream. It shamed her to admit, but after she’d seen him like this, her opinion in that regard had only been reinforced.

So, in keeping with her long-standing rule of never giving without taking in return, if she allowed Brazos into her bed, what could she expect from him?

Money? Madeline shook her head. She didn’t need money. Prestige or power in society might motivate others, but she’d no interest in them. “You tell me, Brazos. What do you have to offer a woman?”

Immediately, the memory of his naked body intertwined with hers flashed brilliant in her mind. “Not that. It’s not exactly the sort of thing a woman can take to the bank.” Besides, he’d said
platonically
. He’d made quite a point about it.
An annoying point, in fact.

“You know, Brazos, you needn’t have made such an issue about a physical relationship between us. I have quite specific goals about that also.”

She leaned against him, rested her head on his shoulder. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat gave her comfort as she said in a dreamy tone of voice, “When I find my man, he’ll love me desperately. It won’t matter that I’ve another man’s child I’ll be bringing to the marriage. He won’t care whether I’m wealthy or poor—of course, I’ll be wealthy, but he won’t necessarily know that. He’ll be a romantic, and he’ll woo me, and pursue me, and claim he’s in agony with wanting before I finally allow him to marry me and carry me to the marriage bed. Then—“

Madeline stopped abruptly. She sat up straight and stared into the darkness. The idea had never occurred to her before. “At least, not where you’re concerned, Brazos.” She had always known she’d need to deal with the obstacle sometime. When she married for real, she didn’t want her new husband to make any discoveries that would lead to uncomfortable questions. She had to protect Rose at all costs.
But to use Brazos
? Frowning in concentration, she said, “It is a problem, and it would be a solution.” She turned and looked toward him, although she couldn’t see him, nor he her. “We wouldn’t have to tell anyone about it. Our Texas plans wouldn’t have to change.”

She lifted her hand to touch his face, brushing that independent lock of hair back off his forehead. If she pursued this plan of action, she wouldn’t have to feel bad about giving and not taking.

And, a voice inside her whispered,
you could help him. It’s what you really want, the other is an excuse.

“No, it’s not!” Madeline snapped. “This is a real problem, one I must deal with before I can marry the man of my dreams.” She took Brazos’s hand. “If you can hear me in there, Mr. Sinclair I want you to know that I accept your offer. If we are ever rescued from this place, you are more than welcome to move into my bed.” Because then, no matter what he intended, she’d convince him to make a minor adjustment in this platonic idea.

Madeline planned to use Brazos to rid her of this pesky problem called virginity.

A RATTLING at the hatch woke Madeline from a light sleep. The door swung back, and sunlight poured through the casement, along with the strident sounds of Lillibet Brunet’s voice.

“I tell you man, when I last saw her, Madame Sinclair planned to enter the hold. It’s been almost two hours, and no one I can find has seen either her or her husband. She’d never leave her baby with me for that length of time without informing me of her intentions beforehand. You must remove that lock and open the hatch immediately!”

“Thank goodness!” Madeline exclaimed, relief rushing through her body as sunshine warmed her skin. Immediately, she looked at Brazos. Light illuminated a ravaged face, and slowly he began to stir.

“What the hell—” he said hoarsely.

Lillibet peered down at them and squealed, “Oh, Madeline, Madeline. I knew it. I just knew you’d been trapped in that dank and dreary old hold. Bless your heart. Are you all right? Thank heavens you had Monsieur Sinclair to take care of you; otherwise, I imagine you’d have been scared to death.”

The beam of light was a brilliant sword plunging into Brazos’s eyes, burning into his mind and lighting the darkness within.
Oh, Lord, it’s happened again
. Frozen in place at the foot of the stairs, he grimaced against the shame that flushed his body. She’d seen him like that.

A crew member stood beside the hatch, babbling questions and comments as he extended a hand to assist Brazos to the deck. Brazos ignored the man’s scolding tone and tried to orient himself.
He didn’t remember. The steps, he’d gone down the steps. Then the void. That damnable darkness
.

Brazos turned and grabbed Madeline’s outstretched arm, pulling her up to stand beside him. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, meet her gaze. His grip on her hand was punishing, he knew. He forced his fingers to relax. What else happened down there?
Please, this time, just this one time, let me remember
!

The ship’s captain approached. “Monsieur Sinclair, Madame Sinclair I am relieved to see you both are well. I am aware that in their carelessness, two of my men left the hatch open. What I do not understand is why you and your wife entered my hold without permission, thereby risking your lives when my men belatedly returned and locked the door.”

Brazos stiffened and cleared his throat, praying he’d be able to talk, when Madeline spoke up. “Captain, I’m afraid it’s all my fault. I went to retrieve my daughter’s special toy, and Mr. Sinclair only came down when I discovered the…”

From the corner of his eye, Brazos noted Madeline’s sharp glance. “Captain, I’m afraid we have made a terrible discovery,” she said. “There is a man down there. He’s dead.”

Dead. Holy hell. Confusion, anger, and fear swirled around inside Brazos like a Texas twister as he searched the emptiness of his memory for an explanation. He strained to keep his expression impassive, but inside his mind was screaming,
What did I do
!

“What is this?” the captain demanded, fixing his stare on Brazos.

“Please, sir,” Madeline asked, “if I may have a cup of water? Is my daughter all right? I need to see her, this has been such an ordeal. I must sit down.” She tugged on Brazos’s sleeve until he looked at her. She jerked her head toward a crate to their right, and he took her unsubtle hint, lifting her to sit upon it. His hands trembled.

The captain considered them for a moment then asked, “Where is this body?”

Madeline answered, “Near the foot of the steps. He’s between two crates.”

“Sailor take a lantern and see below,” the captain ordered the man who had opened the hatch. “Madame Brunet, if you would please bring Madame Sinclair her daughter?” He turned to another crewman, who watched the proceeding with interest. “Wilson, water for the Sinclairs.”

As those addressed scrambled to do the captain’s bidding, Brazos kept his hold on Madeline’s waist. He looked past her shoulder, unwilling to see what knowledge lived in her eyes. Yet he continued to touch her. He feared that Madeline had become his lifeline to sanity.

The sound of the sailor ascending the steps rang a death knell in his ears. He was handed a cup of water just as the lantern held above the man’s head broke the plane of the deck. He tossed back his drink as though it were the greenest of home-brewed beer and braced himself.

“Well?” the captain asked.

“Stowaway, sir. Must have run out of water. His tongue is as thick as a halyard.”

I didn’t kill him
, Brazos realized, relief washing through him.

The captain muttered, “Desperate fool.” Then, “Take Jenkins here and deal with the body.”

The sailor snapped a salute as Lillibet rushed up with Rose in her arms. “Here she is, dearling, all ready for her mama.” Madeline scrambled from the crate and enfolded the child in her arms. She raised misty eyes to the captain and asked, “Sir, may we go?”

He frowned. “I trust, Monsieur and Madame Sinclair that in the future, you will restrict yourselves to the passenger areas of the
Uriel
?” After they nodded, he said, “Good. You may leave.”

“Brazos?” Madeline said with surprise when he turned to leave her.

He refused to meet her eyes. “Take Rose to the cabin and get some rest, Madeline. I’ll see you later.” He took a step, but her hand on his sleeve stopped him. She stared at him with a challenge in her eyes.

“Yes, you will see me later. I agree to your proposition, Brazos Sinclair. Feel free to move your belongings into my cabin whenever you like. I’ll be waiting for you tonight.”

“Forget it,” Brazos said, shaking off her touch. Hell, he was too embarrassed to even look at her. No way in hell could he crawl into bed with her. Not now.

Without looking back, he crossed the
Uriel’s
deck and stood beside the ship’s railing. As he stared down at the frothy white splash churning beside the hull, he had the strange thought that perhaps his mind was like the sea: deep, dark, empty of humanity, teeming with a life of its own. Something, someone plagued him. It had been born in the bowels of Perote Prison, and it scared the bejabbers out of him.

YOU ARE right to be afraid, Weak One. I live and breathe within you, like a tethered hellhound straining to be loosed upon the protected part of yourself. I am what you are, stripped of everything but the instinctive will to live. I am death and life from death. I know the secret that will be your death. Oh, Lucifer, I am hungry
.

Chapter 6

THE LANTERN ON THE wall swayed in its brass gimbal, the rhythmic squeak of comforting sound in the lonely cabin. Madeline lay awake, waiting for Brazos. She knew he’d find it harder to come to her, but she believed in the end he’d find it hard to stay away. Brazos would want company tonight, and she would be here for him.

The bed sheet rustled as she rolled onto her side. She tugged the satin binding of her blanket up to her chin and curled into a ball in an effort to keep warm. The night had grown bitter cold. “Good,” she murmured. All the more reason for him to seek her bed. Then she’d offer him the comfort of her voice and of her touch, but she’d wait a few days to ask for something in return.

A good thief understood that preparation was simply part of the job.

It was after midnight when she heard the cabin door creak open. The smoky yellow glow of lantern light failed to soften the hard edges of Brazos’s expression as he stood in the doorway, silently waiting.

Madeline reached up, twisted the latch on the porthole, and pushed it open. The dank fragrance of wet wood and the briny scent of the sea swept inside with the cold air.

He appeared almost angry as he took a short rope from his pocket and tied open the door. With jerky movements, he yanked off his boots and shrugged out of his shirt and pants. This time he wore long underwear beneath his clothing.

Madeline hid a smile as he climbed into bed beside her. Did he believe he went to war, did he sense this bed might become a battlefield? She thought of his insistent declaration,
Platonically, of course
. Perhaps a suit of armor made of cotton, dyed red, and soft as Rose’s skin made him feel less vulnerable. Silly man.

They lay without touching or speaking until Brazos finally asked gruffly, “You want the light on or off?”

“Whichever you prefer.” She heard his teeth grind together as he sat up and turned down the lamp wick. When he lay back down, Madeline snuggled next against him and fired her first salvo, saying, “I’m glad you came tonight. I’ve been thinking about home, and I’m a bit lonely. I’m really not in the mood to argue moral issues; I hope you don’t mind.”

Brazos was as stiff as Mistress Poggi’s corset. A soft laugh escaped Madeline at the comparison. It must be his nearness; she’d best be careful, or soon she’d say something utterly Texan.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked in a defensive tone.

“I was thinking about someone from home,” she answered. “Well, it wasn’t truly a home, just the place where I grew up. I was raised in a boarding school in England. The headmistress was terribly strict, and I was forever running afoul of her.” After tugging her braid out from beneath his shoulder, Madeline related a brief story involving her, Lord Carruther’s daughter, Regina, and a turkey destined for the dinner table that mysteriously disappeared. As she talked, she felt the stiffness begin to seep from his limbs.

“But the funny thing about it,” she finished, “even as I was misbehaving, I wished so badly to please her.”

“Children do that,” Brazos said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And just because someone is an adult, that doesn’t mean they’re right to be supervising young’uns. Your Mistress Piggy sounds to me like she should’ve had another occupation.”