Her Master and Commander (12 page)

“Oh, you did, did you?”

“Yes. Which is a good deal too bad because I really like the punch and I would like to drink it.”

“Then drink it.”

“I can’t. You will take advantage of me.”

His brows lowered. “I do not take advantage of women, tipsy or no.”

“Ah, but you said you didn’t like being fettered by manners.”

“And?”

“A true gentleman would not attempt to take advantage of a lady. I think
that
is why you don’t want to learn any manners.” She waved her hand grandly. “It all seems very simple to me.”

He chuckled. “I am rather glad you aren’t drinking that second glass of punch. Madam, let me assure you that I shall not take advantage of you.”

For some reason, a small flicker of disappointment settled in her heart. “Not at all?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She stared into the fire, mulling this over. “Wait! What about a
seduction
? That is quite different from taking advantage,
and
it is something gentlemen do with frequency.”

His laugh enveloped her. “Very true. A seduction is not necessarily a bad thing. It could, in fact, be quite pleasurable.”

Prudence found the thought fascinating. What would it be like to be seduced by a man like this? He was unabashedly male and did not follow the normal dictates of society. Whatever he did, it would be exciting. Beyond exciting. She cleared her throat. “This is not a proper topic of conversation for us.”

His eyes laughed at her. “No?”

“No.” It was all such a pity. Not only could they not pursue interesting topics of conversation, but they could not allude to the improper things they’d already done. She sighed and, to ease the pressure in her throat at the memory of their passionate kiss, took a sip of the punch. Just a very, very tiny sip.

It sent a flash of warmth through her. “Oh, who cares for propriety. My lord, I owe you an apology.”

“What for?”

“For kissing you. You must understand, it has been quite a long time since my husband died, and I miss—” Embarrassment scorched her cheeks. Good God, what was she doing? That was not something she’d meant to admit. She glared at her glass and set it down with a decided thunk. “Never mind. I don’t know what I am saying.”

“I do. You miss ‘kissing.’” He shrugged, though his gaze remained riveted on her with an intensity that belied his casual stance. “I imagine that is quite normal.”

It didn’t sound quite so bad when he said it that way.

He waved his glass. “Sometimes, I miss ’kissing,’ too.”

Her gaze drifted to his leg, her thoughts fixed on him. “Ah,” she said softly, wondering at the stab of disappointment that met this revelation. “Your wound prevents you from…relationships.”

The captain’s brows snapped down. “What? Relatio—
no!
No indeed! I can assure you that I can—that is not an issue here!”

She blinked, rather astonished at the harshness of his voice. “I am sorry to have offended you, I just thought you might have hurt yourself and that was why—”

“I am well aware what you thought, madam. Let me assure you that your fears are unfounded. I only injured my leg from the knee down. As I mentioned yesterday, I am fully functional.”

“Then why do you miss ‘kissing’?”

“It is sometimes difficult to focus on enjoyment when people have died.” His gaze dropped to his glass. “I cannot tell you what that is like.”

The somberness of his voice caught her. “I’m sorry. You—Reeves was right.”

“Reeves?”

“He said you had been through some very difficult situations.”

The captain finished his drink, and then used the ladle to dip some more punch into his glass. “We must all run through a storm or two before we reach our destinations.”

She considered this a moment. “Well I, for one, have no intentions of running through anything. I shall go around the bad weather in my life, thank you.”

A deep chuckle met this. He had such a lovely lopsided grin; it made her heart flutter.

He took a drink, then set his glass aside. “Mrs. Thistlewaite, you are a soft night wind, the kind that blows from the east and gently sets you down in the port of your choosing. I am glad you will be here to help me navigate the shoals set out by my bastard father.”

Well! That was certainly poetic! And not at all like the harsh and rather unpleasant man she’d thought the earl to be. She started to take a step forward, when she realized that her foot seemed to be fixed in place. She glanced down to find that her skirt had caught on the bracket of a small table that held her glass of punch. “Oh bother. I am anchored.”

He chuckled and picked up his cane to limp to her. There he set the cane aside, leaning it against the settee, then knelt down, his bad leg straight to one side. She couldn’t help but admire the muscles in his thighs. With large hands warmed by the punch, he untangled her skirts from the table. As they swung free, he leaned back and grinned up at her.

Something happened then…Later on, she’d wonder if it was a memory of their previous kiss or a flare from the rum punch, but the earl looked so very…
dear
, sitting there before her, his green eyes sparkling. Somehow, her fingers found their way to his thick, black hair. It was amazingly soft, springing beneath her fingers and clinging as if it had a life of its own.

His smile faded, his eyes darkening ever so slightly.

From somewhere deep inside her, Prudence knew she should stop. Knew she was breaking every bond of polite behavior, the very thing she’d come to teach him.

But there was something about this man, some untamed wildness that drew her to the line of propriety and over.

She knew she’d regret every action she was about to commit. But somehow that didn’t matter. What did matter was that she was here, with him, now. That her fingers were threaded through his wonderful hair, that he was looking up at her as if she was the only woman in the world.

It was a madly impossible moment. Prudence felt herself slipping over the side of desire, sinking into a wildly improbable sea of passion, and it was then that she knew she was lost.

S
he wanted him. The thought trembled on her lips, never quite escaping. It left her with a taste of longing so strong that her heart thundered in her ears and quickened her breath.

The moment lengthened, tantalized. The captain’s eyes darkened even more. “Prudence…” He captured her wrist in his large, warm hand and pulled her fingers to his lips.

A deep shiver raced through Prudence at the touch of his lips to her bare skin. There was something achingly intimate about this moment; him kneeling at her feet, her fingers in his hair, his lips touching her. Fire licked between them, drawing her closer, closer.

She fought the swell of feelings. Fought the ache of emptiness that struggled for release. She had loved Phillip. But it was so long ago. Oddly, the memories of the warmth of their relationship, of the passion they’d shared, seemed to push her forward. Her fingers slipped from his hair, to his collar. And then she was pulling him up, to his feet…and into her arms.

He was so tall she had to bend her head back to lift her face to his. It was unique, this disparity of heights, but she liked it, especially when he gently held her in his massive arms and captured her to his chest, the scent of soap and sandalwood engulfing her.

Prudence wanted this kiss so badly. The last kiss seemed to have ignited the desire for even more. And it had been so long since a man had truly held her. So long since a man had touched her in this way. With Phillip, she’d tasted quiet passion, but this was something more…hotter, more desperate.

The captain’s lips touched hers. Prudence gave herself completely to the moment, lost in the daze of pleasure and rum that soaked through her. She clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, the linen crisp under her fingers. His skin warmed the cloth until she was certain he burned as much as she. It was with a faint sense of despair that she finally gave in to the nameless pull that emanated from him and released her grip on all coherent thought. Within seconds she had slipped into the heated waters of desire and submerged fully into his embrace.

The kiss deepened and lengthened. The captain moaned against her mouth, plundering her deeper, more fully, as his hands ran up and down her sides, his thumbs brushing the fullness of her breasts and causing her to arch against him.

The front door slammed. Reason returned, a slash of icy water after a warm, deep slumber. Prudence broke free from the earl’s embrace and quickly whisked herself around the settee. She didn’t worry that he might follow her; the furniture boundary was to keep
her
from reaching back out to
him.

“Well,” the earl said, raking a hand through his hair, “That was…interesting.”

Despite the wry smile he attached to the words, his breathing was as rapid as Prudence’s own.

He found his cane and moved beside the settee, one hand resting on the back. “I am afraid I have had too much punch to kiss you without wanting more. I should not have attempted it.”

She nodded, touching trembling fingers to her mouth where his kiss still seared a heated imprint. “Nor I. I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“It wasn’t you. And it wasn’t me. It was the rum punch.” He took a deep breath, and shook his head as if to clear it. “You came today to discuss the lessons, I believe.”

“Yes. Of course.” Prudence bit her lip, aware of the awkwardness of the moment. “Well!” She smoothed her gown and struggled to collect her thoughts. “I have some idea, but we need a solid plan if we’re to meet the expectations of the trustees within a mere month.”

His mouth twisted in a self-deriding smile. “I am so lacking in polish?”

Her cheeks heated. “No! I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did. And I agree. It will take all of our combined efforts to gain that blasted fortune.”

“I do not think that true. As a whole, your manners are perfectly acceptable. If you would but learn a few rules of comportment…that is all you need.”

He smiled. “Like…do not kiss your tutor?”

“Exactly.”
She ignored the heat rising up her neck to her cheeks. She’d never been one to flush so quickly, but it happened every time the earl cast his pale green gaze her way. She wondered if perhaps she was taking the ague. Yes. That was the problem—she was developing an illness of some sort, one that would end the moment she was no longer in close contact with the man who was watching her even now.

It was a pity he was so ineligible. She almost grimaced at the word—“ineligible” didn’t begin to describe the earl. He was handsome and attractive and capable of caring, as evidenced by the way he worried about his men. But he was also forceful and rough and possessed a restless spirit. He was a man who would take his pleasure when and where he found it, then leave. She knew instinctively that if he hadn’t been injured in battle, he would not now be standing beside her.

The thought was sobering. She pressed the uncomfortable thoughts away and managed a smile. “Shall we begin?”

“Do your worst, madam.”

Prudence thought a moment. From the corner of her eye, she caught him shifting heavily from one foot to the other. “It cannot be good for you to stand so long. Why don’t you take the chair and I’ll sit here.” She moved as she spoke and perched on the edge of the settee. There. That was a nice, safe distance.

He hesitated, then made his way to the chair. “I am not an invalid, you know.”

“I didn’t say you were. I merely said you might be more comfortable sitting. I know I will be.”

He glowered a bit, but sat. He stretched his stiff leg before him and placed his cane to one side.

Prudence watched him from beneath her lashes. “Let us begin with something simple. Titles are very simple, once you learn their order. At dinner parties, guests are seated by rank and—”

“Why did you agree to tutor me?”

She paused. “Does it matter?”

“Yes. You know why I am here; it is only fair that I ask the same question.”

He was right, blast it. “It is a sad fact of life that food and shelter costs money.”

“Money is a satisfying reason for many things.”

“At times, yes. I am glad you and I are able to assist each other. Perhaps soon, both of our wishes may come true and we’ll gain our fortunes.”

His look of complacency disappeared behind a scowl. “I never wished for the fortune or the title. I didn’t wish for a damn thing but to be left alone.”

“Come now! You have been given a wonderful opportunity—a fortune, in fact, and all you have to do is learn a little polish. Yet you are far from happy about such a fortuitous happenstance.”

“Aye, I receive a fortune. A fortune from a man who was never the father he should have been. A man who never once, in all the days of my childhood, bothered to visit either me or my brother one single time. A man who did everything he could to have legitimate heirs so that I wouldn’t see a farthing of his, not to mention the title and lands.”

Prudence bit her lip. “I didn’t know.”

He shrugged, though his gaze remained hard. “My father abandoned me and my brother when we were born and was nowhere to be found when Mother was taken to prison falsely charged with treason.”

Prudence didn’t know what to say.

“My mother died in a dank cell. Only later was she cleared of all wrongdoing.” His smile was mirthless. “A classic case of too little, too late.”

Prudence’s throat tightened at the thought of how dear her own mother was to her. “I am sorry. How…how did you end up being a sea captain?”

“I was impressed upon a ship and I found the sea.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

Good God. He’d been but a child.

His hand curled about the knob of his cane and he regarded his outstretched foot with unseeing eyes. “I came to love the sea, but only after we were captured by pirates.”

Prudence’s eyes widened. “Pirates? Goodness! That must have been frightening.”

“There is very little about the sea that is not frightening.” He watched her narrowly, as if judging the effect his words were having on her. “Pirates or no, they were good to us. Better, in fact, than my captain had been. So, when they asked us to join their crew, I did so.”

Prudence choked. “I beg your pardon! Did you say that you
joined
the pirate crew?”

“I did. If you are to do this thing for me—the tutoring—you shall know all. I attacked ships and stole their cargo.” His expression darkened. “Do not look so shocked. The work was not so different from what we were doing under the king’s flag when we were scouring the seas for French frigates for the very same reason—overtake them and empty their holds, lives be damned.”

“I—I see.”

“I doubt it. The difference between being in the Royal Navy and being a pirate is not as far apart as you might think. One is fueled by the desire for power, the other fueled by the desire for gold.”

“Did you have to kill anyone?”

“I killed far fewer men when I was a pirate. The pay was better, too, as was the treatment—But there was a cost.” He shifted in his seat, stretching his legs before him. “I became a wanted man. I could not come home. I didn’t think that would bother me, but I was wrong.”

The words were softly spoken, the earl’s voice deep. Prudence had to blink tears from her eyes. “That is horrid.”

“It was. For eight years I never touched foot on English soil. Then I met Admiral Nelson. I captured his ship during a horrid squall. He was so impressed with my abilities that he offered to secure a pardon if I would but sail with him. I agreed. He secured my pardon and I came home.” The earl lifted his cane and tapped the end of his boot. “I can still remember how lovely it felt, that first moment I put my foot back on English soil.”

“I daresay it was.” Prudence found herself looking at the captain’s foot. “How did—”

He shrugged. “I took a ball at Trafalgar, fighting beside Lord Nelson.”

“He was killed during the battle.”

The earl’s jaw set. “I saw it. Held him as—”

Prudence saw the wetness of his eyes. Her heart ached, but she wisely did not say a word.

After a long moment, the earl took a breath. His eyes had darkened a bit, his mouth lined with tension. An indefinable air of sadness enveloped him, reminding Prudence of the heavy fog that shrouded the sea each morning. “I can no longer sail,” he said. “My life is over.”

“Nonsense,” Prudence said briskly, though she wanted nothing more than to stand and hug the man before her. It seemed he’d had so little care in his life. So little gentleness. “You have been very successful so far, despite the troubles you’ve faced.”

He slanted her a hard look, his green eyes shadowed and distant. “More than anything, I miss being at sea, being free.” Her gaze dropped to his leg and he grimaced. “And now, this. I’d rather be shot in my good leg than take anything my father touched, but I have no choice.”

“Then do not take the money. Find another way.”

His gaze locked on hers. “There is no demand for crippled sea captains. And that, my dear, little, meddlesome but tasty neighbor, is all I know how to do.”

“If you are committed to helping your men, you will find a way. Even if your father’s money is not it.”

He looked at her a moment, his lids lowered over his eyes, his expression intent. “Perhaps.”

Prudence bit back a sigh. He would not accept solace of any kind, that much was obvious. “Well, Captain—or rather, I should say Rochester. We should begin with some basic tenets on manners.”

“Do your worst, my love.” He sprawled in his chair, one arm now slung over the back.

Prudence ignored him. “Captain—I mean, Lord Rochester—”

“Tristan.”

“Lord Rochester,” she continued. “From now on, you must watch your language for vulgar phrases—”

His eyes gleamed with humor. “What vulgar phrases?”

“I am not going to say them, if that’s what you wish. Instead, every time you use a vulgar phrase, I shall cough, like this.” She coughed gently against her fingers. “That way you will know you are using a potentially lowering phrase.”

He crossed his arms, his booted legs thrust before him, looking dangerous and all too masculine. “Anything else, my beautiful tutor?”

“We will also have to work on your air. You are a bit surly at times.”

He opened his eyes wide. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” she said, hard-pressed not to grin.

The earl gave a crack of laughter. “Do not hide your light in the fog. Say what you really mean.”

“There are times you act like a complete jackanapes.”

He did laugh then, long and loud, his eyes crinkled in the most engaging manner. “I cannot see the problem with that. I’ve known plenty of supposed gentlemen who were jackanapes.”

“So have I. But none of them came under the scrutiny of a board of trustees.” She paused, thinking. “Do you happen to know who the gentlemen are? Perhaps I might recognize their names, or at least might have heard of their character enough to give us a small advantage.”

He stood and took up his cane, then limped to the desk and found some papers. He carried them back to his chair and flipped through the heavily written sheets. “Here it is.
The trustees will consist of Viscount Southland, the duke of Eddington, Mr. Poole-Biddly, and the earl of Ware.”

Prudence pressed a hand to her temple as the names rang through her mind. Southland and Ware. Southland had been furious at what he thought was Phillip’s deception. And Ware…she closed her eyes.

Ware had been the one who’d insisted she’d been a conspirator with Phillip. That she’d used her “wiles” to attract new investors in a scheme destined for failure. His last conversation with her had been horrid and he’d barely stopped short of calling her a common prostitute. It had been one of the most humiliating and horrid moments of her life.

“Prudence?”

The earl’s deep voice broke in on her thoughts. She took a steadying breath. “I am sorry. I was just thinking. I know some of those men. They are leaders of fashion, quite haughty in their ways.”