Lost Honor (8 page)

The light of the day drained and darkness replaced it, but he spotted Arianna with ease. Her blonde, curly hair shone like a beacon as it framed her body and swayed with her movements.

“Are you eating tonight?” Andrew appeared at his side.

“Maybe later.” He hesitated as an idea formed. “On second thought, tell Mark to fix a plate and bring it here.”

Would she cry defeat if tempting smells wafted her way and she noticed him enjoying his food?

“I ordered Jurgens, Charlie, and James to keep an eye on her. She’ll be safe.”

He nodded. “They are good men.”

“I can send one of them to relieve you.”

“No, I’m fine.”

Andrew departed without an argument or discussion. The three men he mentioned had sailed with him when he was a privateer, and he could trust them, but he wanted to perform this duty. He yanked his gaze from Arianna and rubbed the back of his neck as he stared out at the sea. Blackness surrounded the ship. No lights shone on the horizon.

Mark soon appeared with a tray filled with beef, potatoes, and pudding. After he set it down, Morgan dismissed him. He wasn’t really hungry, but he ate a couple bites of beef and then peeked at Arianna from beneath his lashes. Not as much vigor accompanied the push and pull of the mop. She stopped and rubbed her brow with her forearm as the wind played in her hair. Was she finally tired? He didn’t think it possible.

A hint of compassion crept into his heart on silent feet, and he thought about rescinding his order.

No. This was what he wanted. For complete exhaustion to overwhelm her so she would beg to remain in her room and act like a lady for the remainder of the trip.

She threw the water from the bucket over the side of the ship and then crossed to where he stood. The bounce in her step had vanished. This was the moment he had waited for. She’d announce she no longer yearned to be a seaman.

“I am finished, Captain Danvers.”

He speared chunks of potato with his knife, slowly placed them in his mouth, and chewed for a while before he swallowed.

She gulped, and her tongue slid across her lips. His manhood leaped.

“And?”

“What are your orders?”

“Orders?” He couldn’t believe her words.

With the back of her wrist, she brushed wisps of hair from her face. “Yes. What would you like me to do next?”

She wasn’t quitting? She wanted to continue with this farce? He had some orders he would love to impart.

“You have first watch tonight.”

“Aye, Captain.” Her voice did not hold its earlier conviction and heartiness.

He threw the remainder of his food in the ocean and stalked away from the infuriating female.

Chapter Five

Arianna stifled one yawn and then another. This would be a very long four hours. She was exhausted. Maybe exercise would invigorate her. She plodded down the larboard side and then the starboard.

Stopping, her legs wavered under her weight, threatening to collapse. Arianna gripped the wooden railing. She couldn’t give in. She had to prove she possessed the stamina needed for this job. She drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. It circulated and warmed within her.

Her eyes closed, and her head tilted to the side. She jerked them open and straightened. This wasn’t working. She longed to sit but began another brisk trek around the deck.

As she passed a seaman, she tripped. Her arms flailed, searching for a solid object to grab on to, but only empty air greeted her. Her knees hit the deck first, hard, and then her hands before her arms collapsed beneath her weight. What had she fallen over? A man’s foot? Lying flat, Arianna inventoried her body. Every bone, joint, and muscle ached and not just from the fall. She longed to remain where she landed. She didn’t have enough energy to heave herself into a sitting position.

Sea water splashed over her in a freezing torrent. She stiffened and gasped in shock. Spitting salt water from her mouth and wiping liquid from her face, she rolled over. A burly seaman with bulging arms, ragged shoulder length hair, and an evil smile spread tight over uneven teeth, towered over her.

“What was that for?” She fought to gain her feet, the wet material sticking to her legs.

“For opening your mouth to the Cap’n.”

She stared at him in amazement. “You soaked me because I spoke with Captain Danvers? I’m sure I am not the first to do so.” She shook her arms and drops shining in the moonlight plunged to the deck. “And what does that matter to you?” This man was insane. She bent over, and grabbing sections of her skirt, she wrung it out.

“No, not Cap’n Danvers. Your father, Cap’n Pemberton.”

She studied the craggy face with bushy eyebrows that reminded her of someone, but he stood in the shadows, and she couldn’t see him clearly.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

She searched her mind, but failed to grasp a clue.

“Your father had me flogged because you told him I hurled that boy overboard. If you kept your mouth shut, he’d never have known.”

She recoiled at the venom he flung at her. The incident dropped into her mind, and she recalled this beast who bullied members of the crew younger and weaker than him. “You deserved every lash of the whip.”

He snatched her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh. “And you will get—”

“Arianna.”

He released her as he spied the first mate heading toward them. “I’m not finished with you,” he whispered.

“Briggs, Arianna, is there a problem?”

“No, sir,” Briggs raspy voice answered.

Mr. Markham swung his attention to her. “Arianna?”

She hesitated, and a warning from Briggs shot into her across the space separating them. She couldn’t say anything to the first mate. She wanted to be one of the crew, and she’d never fit in if they feared she would run to the officers with their every misdeed. Even now, she might be ostracized if Briggs let it be known what had happened aboard her papa’s ship. “No, sir.”

She shivered as the cool night air blew against her wet garments, and she hugged herself for warmth. She wished the heat of the sun beat down on her now.

“Arianna, why are you wet?”

“It was an accident, Mr. Markham.”

He regarded her quizzically. And then studied Briggs who stared straight ahead. “Go below and change. Briggs, carry on in a different part of the ship.”

“Aye, sir.”

She only had one skirt and one bodice, and Captain Danvers insisted she wear them. “I am fine. I will change after my watch.”

“That is an order, Miss Pemberton. Go below now.”

Another demanding male. “If another seaman happened into the same set of circumstances, would you insist he change his clothes?”

“Yes, Miss Pemberton.”

“Oh.” He would? Somehow she didn’t believe him, but why would he lie? It did provide an opportunity to don her shirt and pants. Captain Danvers couldn’t deny her if this outfit was wet.

She hurried below and halted outside the captain’s cabin. Was he inside? She didn’t want to see him, and she couldn’t change if he was there. That settled it. She was returning to the deck to work her remaining hours. She whirled and headed back the way she had come.

When her head popped through the hatch, Mr. Markham’s feet faced her eyes. “Is there a problem, Miss Pemberton?”

Damn. “No, sir.”

Resigned to her fate, she trudged to the cabin. Before she entered, she pulled back her shoulders and straightened to her full height for a confrontation. With her hand on the door handle, she turned it with a slow twist and pushed the door open with dread. Captain Danvers sat behind the mahogany desk, and when she entered, he lifted his head. His eyes widened at her bedraggled condition. “What happened to you?”

“Mr. Markham ordered me to change.” Arianna hurried past him to the corner where she had dropped her bag.

She turned. To find him directly behind her. Her face almost smashed into the white shirt covering his broad chest.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She tilted her head back to scrutinize his stern face. “Oh, I didn’t?”

He shook his head.

The room wasn’t hot, but her freezing body heated. She couldn’t look him in the eye as she lied. “It was an accident.”

“How did this accident occur?”

She should have known he would insist on an answer and not have entered the cabin until she concocted a story. Which she was good at. But right now her imagination failed her. She could think of nothing except the muscular chest staring her in the eye. The one she wanted to fall against and snuggle into. Her eyes closed as she drifted into the pleasant dream.

“Arianna.”

A firm voice called to her. Whose?

Wet. Ship. Captain Danvers.

She shook herself awake. “Ah, it was raining?”

He glanced at the window. “I haven’t seen a drop all night. You need to do better than that.”

“When I started to throw the water from the bucket I used for swabbing the deck over the side, I slipped, and it landed on me.” She scratched her arm as the sticky salt water began to dry on her skin.

“I saw you dispose of it earlier.”

Her eyes rounded. “You did?” Amazement rushed through her. Did he notice everything?

He lifted her chin with his finger and forced her to meet his eyes. “What happened, Arianna?”

She firmed her decision. “I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

Anger colored his voice along with astonishment, and a chill slipped into her. He didn’t like when his commands weren’t met, but it would be worse if she disclosed the truth and the men found out. They didn’t like people who informed on others. Now, she only had to keep a wary eye out for one man. If she spoke of tonight’s incident to Captain Danvers, she would constantly have to watch her back for every man on board. And her mission to befriend the crew and gain their respect would end before it started.

His face grew dark, but she vowed to remain brave. She wiped her hands on her wet skirt. “Just that. It’s a private matter.” She drew her mouth into a tight, closed line.

****

“A private matter.” He sounded like a parrot. Frustration and raw tension tugged at his muscles. He stared long and hard into her eyes as he strove to find the answers deep within the blue pools, but she battled to keep the secrets her own and won.

For the moment.

Morgan couldn’t fault her for fighting her own skirmishes and not running to him with tales, but dammit, he had asked her a question.

He should have known she would remain stoic when he confronted her. She wasn’t like the men who quaked at his words and rushed to accomplish his demands. But he would find out one way or another what had happened. Probably not tonight or from her, but somehow. Even though she didn’t realize it, she was a female. If this incident involved a member of his crew, which he was positive it did, how did she expect to fight a man stronger than she was?

She swayed on her feet and then righted herself. Lines of exhaustion marked the area around her pale lips and shadows darkened her eyes. Compassion stole in. He lifted his hand and stroked it down the length of her blonde hair.

She stepped away from him and lifted her bag. “I need to get back on deck. I am only here to change my clothes. Mr. Markham’s orders,” she told him with a trembling voice.

His brows lifted. She followed his first mate’s commands. Why not his?

Morgan wanted Arianna to remain exactly where she stood. Where he could gaze at her beautiful face, feel the heat from her body, and smell the lavender that still clung to her, even after she had sweated and was doused with seawater. He traced a finger down the soft skin of her cheek as she stared at him with wide eyes. Arianna was his to command as a member of the crew, but nothing further. He was not permitted other liberties. Morgan stepped aside.

She hurried to the hammock, and he returned to his desk, eased onto the chair, and picked up the quill, trying to forget Arianna shared his room.

She cleared her throat. “Captain Danvers.”

“Yes,” he answered without glancing at her.

“I can’t dress with you in the cabin.”

“Well, I am not leaving. You wanted to be a seaman. They do not dress in private.” Why was he doing this to himself? His hand clenched the quill tighter.

“Then turn your back.”

“I’m busy at the moment. I’m not going to look. I have weightier issues on my mind.” He continued to stare at a blank page and tried to sound bored, but anticipation raged. It screamed.

She turned her back to him. Not able to stop himself, he glanced at her as she pulled a pair of brown pants and a blue shirt from her bag. He refused to allow her on deck with those garments on. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He couldn’t resist the urge to watch her remove her clothes.

She shook out the pants, shoved her legs into the openings, and tugged them up under her skirt. Her shirt would be trickier. She fought with the buttons running down the back of her bodice.