Gregory, Lisa (18 page)

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Authors: Bonds of Love

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Nineteenth Century, #Civil War

BOOK: Gregory, Lisa
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She
couldn't think of a suitable retort and so swung around to face the wall. What
a crude man he was to undress right in front of her. Behind her she heard the
wet slap as each of his soaked garments hit the floor, and fought the urge to
sneak a look at him. It was an awful urge, she knew, but she had never seen the
naked male body, and she was more than a little curious about it.

His
footsteps approached, and then his voice sounded close behind her. "If you
would be so kind as to lend me your cloak, madame, I would be far more
comfortable, and you wouldn't have to stare at the wall."

She
shrugged and unfastened her cloak. Standing up, still without looking at him,
she pulled it off and held it out behind her. He took it from her hand and
retreated.

"All
right," he said, "it is safe for you to turn around now."

Katherine
turned and looked at him, then bit her lip in an unsuccessful attempt to keep
from smiling. Though her cloak was quite plain, it was still obviously a lady's
cloak, and looked ridiculous on him, especially ending as it did just below his
knees.

"I
fail to see what is so amusing," he said stiffly.

Katherine
tried to choke back her laughter, but it tumbled out anyway. He stalked to the
opposite end of the room and sat down, carefully wrapping the cloak around him.

"I'm
dreadfully sorry," Katherine said, though her grin would not be stifled.
"It's just that you look so—so silly in that." She dissolved into
laughter, made hysterical by the fear and tension bottled up within her for the
past few hours.

He
shot her a murderous glance and then pointedly closed his eyes against her.
Eventually her laughter subsided, and she settled down on the floor against her
wall. A battle of silence raged between them, finally broken by the entry of
Peljo.

"Captain,
brought you your boots and one of them Yank's uniforms to put on." He
grinned at Katherine, obviously delighted at her escapade. "Glad to see
you still among us, ma'am."

"I
wouldn't be so damned amused if I were you, Peljo," Hampton growled.
"Since this little lady has managed nicely to cut our lead. Or do you want
to return to a Yankee prison?"

"More
likely a yardarm," Peljo said cheerfully.

At
a dark glance from the captain he forced his face into a more somber line, but
winked at Katherine. As the captain stood to dress, Katherine once again turned
to the wall. She didn't turn back around until the slam of the door told her
that they had left. Then she hurriedly donned her wrap again. If only there
were a stove in the room—suddenly she felt cold and deserted and miserable.
Before long the steady motion of the ship rocked her to sleep.

 

It
was the cessation of motion that woke her. She blinked drowsily, trying to
collect her wits. It was a moment before she realized what had awakened her.
They were stopped, the only movement caused by the surge of the waves. Quickly
she scrambled to her feet. Had her rescuers found them? She headed for the
door, pausing only to grab her muff. Just as she stepped out the door, she met
Ensign Fortner scurrying down the steps.

"Oh,
Miss Devereaux, I was just coming to fetch you," he said woodenly.

So,
she thought with a flash of amusement, he too is highly offended by my ruse.
These stiffnecked Southern men, angered not so much because she had delayed
them as because she had tricked them, pulled the wool over their eyes.

"Indeed?
Why?" she said coolly, raising her eyebrows.

"The
captain wants to see you."

"Oh,
well, in that case, we must not delay, must we?" she said sarcastically.

Stiffly
he stood aside to allow her to precede him up the narrow steps. She swept past
him and at the top of the stairs did not pause to take his arm, but sailed
right on to where Captain Hampton stood at the railing. Suddenly she gasped and
went rigid—a ship on the horizon! Katherine ran to the railing and peered out
anxiously over the sea.

"Who
is it?" she asked eagerly. "Is she approaching us?"

"Hopefully,"
Hampton said calmly.

She
looked at him in amazement, then frowned in thought. Of course, he must have
some trick up his sleeve. But what?

"What's
going on?" she asked. "Why are you so cheerful at the idea of meeting
a Union ship? And why aren't you running instead of waiting for her like a
sitting duck?"

"I
can't hide anything from you, can I?" he said lightly.

She
bridled at the amusement in his voice, but before the hot words spilled out of
her mouth, he went on, "Well, I shall explain it to you. Look up
there."

She
raised her eyes to see the ship's American flag flying upside down. "The
distress signal," she breathed.

"Very
good. I have decided to take a leaf from Captain Read's book. I think we need a
faster, better-equipped ship, don't you agree? But since we are unarmed and
easily beaten in speed by almost anything on the water, open battle does not
seem the best way to get one. What this vessel
can
do, however, is look
very much like an innocent fisherman in trouble. If we're lucky, we will be
able to fool that ship and their master will board us, only to find himself a
hostage. His loyal crew, not wishing to see his brains blown out, will then
surrender. And
voilà!
You will have more luxurious sleeping quarters
tonight."

"Sounds
rather chancy to me," she said.

"But
of course. That's the fun of it." He grinned down at her.

It
occurred to her that his grin was demonic; the man must be insane. "But
why did you want me on deck?" she asked.

"Don't
you think this Yankee uniform resembles that of a ship's captain? I, you see,
will play the part of the master of this fishing boat. And you, my dear, will
play the part of my wife."

"What!"

"Just
think how the presence of a woman will add verisimilitude to our little
drama—especially a woman so obviously a true blue New Englander. You'll make us
ruffians look downright respectable."

"You
must be crazy!" she blazed at him. "I will not participate in this
trickery of yours! As soon as she's close enough. I'll scream and wave her
off."

"I
suspected that might be your reaction. But you see, your frantic gestures will
only convince him that we are in need of help. He will think that you have
merely succumbed to feminine hysteria and are trying to get his attention. And
when he gets close enough to hear you and see that your gestures are warnings,
why I will simply put a husbandly arm around you—so." He wrapped one arm
around her, effectively pinning her arms to her sides. "And if you scream,
I will tighten my grip and—with the aid of your corsets, of course—cut off your
air. You will be unable to make a sound, and, moreover, will provide a most
touching fainting scene."

"Why,
you—"

"Please,
I've heard it from you before."

She
coldly turned her shoulder to him and stared out across the water at the other
ship. She was under no illusion that he would fail to carry out his threat. No
doubt he would quite happily crack a few of her ribs, to boot. She could return
to her cabin and refuse to come up. But what would it accomplish? He would
probably be able to trick the other ship without her assistance anyway, and she
would have thrown away any chance to warn them. If she succeeded in warning them,
they would probably just sail away, leaving her in the same predicament without
consuming the time that would be taken up in boarding and overpowering the
other ship. She was on the verge of giving in to him when it struck her that if
she could warn them away, it would save their lives; whereas, if she didn't,
lives could be lost in taking over the clipper ship. And if he lived up to his
reputation, it was quite possible that Hampton might slaughter them all once he
gained control of their vessel. She couldn't just callously leave them to their
fate. She had to try to warn them off.

Hampton,
looking at her, saw her eyes darken with thought. His mind was split between
thinking what a lovely color they turned and wondering what plan she was
cooking up. Angry as he was at her tricks and insults and mockery, he had
grudging admiration for her. He could think of no other girl who would have the
gumption and nerve to battle with him and try such an effective tactic to delay
him. It would be quite a challenge to tame her, to defeat her, and yet win her
over mentally and bodily. He touched her cheek, and she looked up at him, the
sun turning her eyes the pale gold of some fine white wine.

At
his quick intake of breath, she said, "What's the matter?"

"I
want you," he said simply.

She
blushed and looked away. "Please let me go," she said in a small
voice.

Gently
he pulled her into his arms, and she found herself resting her head against his
chest. His strong arms wrapped protectively around her and he leaned his head
down to whisper in her ear, "Don't be so afraid, little one. I shan't hurt
you. Trust me."

"Trust
you!" She jerked away from him. "Trust a man who steals ships, who
abducts girls and does physical violence to them? No, thank you. I'd rather
trust a snake."

He
smiled and shrugged. "I never have understood a Yankee's preference in
companions."

"Oh,
shut up!" she snapped.

 

Chapter 7

 

Impatiently
Katherine waited for the other ship to draw nearer; as it did so, she felt
excitement build in her. She did not know that at the opposite end of the ship,
Captain Hampton, despite his casual, almost languid expression, felt the same
surge of anticipation. She gripped the railing and watched the other ship and
savored the new feeling. She had longed for something more exciting, more
strenuous—well, here it was. She had to grasp the chance now, while it was
offered; surely there would never be another one. In a way, it almost seemed a
dream come true: the ship beneath her feet, the wild band of sailors, the
approaching fight. Even the Rebel captain fit in; after all, how could one
struggle without an opponent and where would the excitement be if there were no
danger?

So
intent was she on her own emotions that she scarcely noticed when Hampton came
to stand beside her. Lazily he leaned against the railing and joined her in
gazing at the approaching ship.

"I
think, my dear," he said, "that it is time we strolled down toward
the middle of the ship; we must station ourselves where we are most clearly
seen."

She
sent him a withering look, but obediently took his arm to walk back. When they
came to a halt, she remained quietly at his side, her hand still in the crook
of his elbow. He tensed when she withdrew a dainty handkerchief from a pocket
of her dress, but she used it only to wave circumspectly at the other ship. He
almost roared with laughter; she looked just like a proper lady waving very
correctly to the boats in a race. What a cool one she was; that was the perfect
touch for a New England seacaptain's wife.

The
clipper signaled them, inquiring as to their trouble. Hampton, having no
equipment, was unable to signal back. The other ship seemed at a loss, but soon
lowered a longboat, carrying the captain, a civilian, and sailors to row the
boat.

"What
now?" Katherine said, turning sideways to look up at him; he would not be
able to put his arm around her so quickly from this position.

He
looked down at her, a faint alarm going off in his mind. She was pulling
something—but what? "Why, when they come aboard, we cover them with our
guns and explain our urgent need for their ship."

Suddenly
she flung her arms up and wide and screamed a high piercing scream. Immediately
he threw both arms around her and crushed her against his chest. The men in the
boat looked disconcerted, but when Hampton patted her back and stroked her hair
and bent his head solicitously toward hers, to all appearances comforting her,
they only wondered curiously what had caused her to give way to hysterics and
kept rowing. Helplessly Katherine struggled, but he had her arms pinioned to
her sides and her body tight against his; painfully her face was pushed into
his chest to muffle her.

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