Mistress Below Deck (5 page)

Rowena stared at him dispassionately. Her longing to sneer was overwhelming. It was his smug, conceited expression she hated most. How she yearned to set him in his place. ‘I am sure Lord Tregowan is kind and polite—'

‘And hardly the sort a beautiful young woman would want to be married to, to spend the rest of her life with, in a draughty old house. But if you are to marry him, then may your union be long and fruitful.' His chuckle sounded low and deep when Rowena's colour heightened on being reminded of the intimacies she would have to endure to bring about this fruitful result. ‘Married to you, Lord Tregowan might never wish to
leave Cornwall again.' He saw the flash of fire in the blue-green depths, but went on undeterred. ‘Despite our unfortunate encounters, Rowena, would you not find my company more to your liking than that of a stranger?'

‘He won't always be a stranger to me—and will you please stop trying to proposition me.'

‘I'm only trying to convince you of my merits, Rowena.'

She tossed her head haughtily. ‘Then don't try. It would be a complete waste of time. How conceited of you to think you are better than Lord Tregowan—although I would expect nothing less from you.'

‘One thing I will say to you, Rowena, is that you would never be bored with me.'

‘And what exactly would you want from me?' she queried with icy sarcasm, gentling her mare as it shifted restlessly beneath her.

Tobias disregarded the sardonic edge to her voice, his expression almost leering as his eyes ran appreciatively over the soft swell of her breasts inside its green velvet, and the long column of her slender neck, the bright flame of her lips.

‘That question could be settled with no discussion at all,' he murmured softly, ‘and conversation is not what I have in mind.'

Rowena gasped and felt a scalding heat creeping over her. His words, though spoken in hushed tones, tore through her with more force than all her father's blustering demands could ever do. ‘How dare you?' she hissed, lifting her slim nose to a lofty angle, her eyes
dark and dangerous. ‘You are insolent, Mr Searle, and you have a propensity to say things that go beyond the bounds of proper behaviour.'

His eyes glowed in the warm light of the sun as he gave her a lazy smile. ‘Your endearments intrigue me, Rowena—but why so hostile towards me? What is it in me that arouses this anger, this dislike you have of me? Your father owes me, that I freely admit, but I am no black-hearted villain.'

‘I would hardly expect you to admit it if you were,' she retorted crisply.

‘I am a fairly honest man in my dealings with others. I have offered you no injury, not ever, and nor will I. Rather the opposite. I admire a woman who knows what she wants and goes directly for it, whatever the consequences, and you really are a lovely woman, Rowena. We could be splendid together, you and I, well matched, if you take my meaning, so I am at a loss as to why you seem to find me so objectionable.' He was still smiling, nudging his horse forward until it was alongside her own.

Rowena drew herself up to her full height and pulled her horse back, as though to ward him off, as though he was about to make some physical attack of her, and the look she gave Tobias Searle was one of icy disdain. ‘I want nothing from you in any way. I would sooner starve and see my family homeless than have anything to do with the likes of you.'

He laughed low in his throat and in one effortless motion he reached out and, finding her waist, drew her close, their horses coming together as though in collusion.
‘Shall I show you how thinly veiled your insults are, Rowena? Shall I show you what it is like to be kissed by a real man?'

His taunting grin and the strength of his arms made her realise the folly of baiting him. ‘Kindly let go of me,' she demanded, struggling to free herself, but she was held in an unyielding vice and there was no getting away.

In the next instant his head had descended to hers and his lips had found their target. Rowena's world careened crazily. His mouth was insistent, demanding, relentless. She drew a sharp breath to scream her outrage, but his mouth smothered her outcry. Her head whirled and she struggled against the intoxication of his kiss.

Tobias's lips moved warmly, strongly, until he felt hers soften beneath his own and she ceased to struggle, her mouth forced to open beneath his mounting ardour. When it, did his tongue slipped between her lips and within to taste leisurely the full sweetness of her mouth. She had never experienced anything quite like that first kiss, feeling a hot sweetness flow through her body, and her mouth clung desperately, honey sweet and swollen. He was devouring her lips in a searing flame that shot through her like a rocket.

Tobias dragged his mouth from hers, feeling her breath warm on his cheek as he found the tender place beneath her ear, and the hot desire that almost had her toppling from her horse, and which might have been stopped, flowed madly through her. Again he found her lips and her senses erupted in a ball of flame that almost consumed her. The warmth spread until her skin seemed
to glow and her sanity argued against the madness. She should have found his kiss repulsive, but in truth it was wildly exciting. Then his hand rose and caressed the swell of her breast, and her breath caught as she felt him bring her nipple to a taut peak.

With outraged modesty she surfaced from the pleasurable state into which he had sent her and pushed him away, gasping for breath. Holding a hand over her throbbing breast, she could only glare at him, but she could say nothing that could wipe the look of wonder from her face, nor stop the wild, chaotic beating of her heart.

With a soft chuckle Tobias urged his horse away. ‘Don't look so indignant, Rowena. You were made for kissing, and I doubt after that you will be satisfied with your ancient suitor. Face the truth of what I've said.'

‘A pox on you,' she hissed. ‘If you try anything like that again I swear I'll kill you. Go away. I want nothing to do with you. Just as soon as I am wed to Lord Tregowan I shall see my father's debt to you is paid in full, and then you can go to the devil for all I care.'

Tobias's grin broadened to reveal his strong white teeth. He bowed his head. ‘As you wish, Rowena. I will be on my way. But you will not be rid of me entirely.'

‘Oh, I shall, Mr Searle. You can be assured of that.' The words could scarcely get beyond her gritted teeth, so tightly was her jaw clenched. With a toss of her head she urged her horse on, galloping away without a backward glance.

Tobias watched her go, the smile melting from his lips and being replaced by a serious frown. Rowena's
voice had been steady but beneath it was a splinter of steel. Tobias felt his heart move with a mixture of pity and admiration for her. He did not doubt for one minute that she was aware of every one of her father's failings, but on their previous encounter, to her credit, she had defended him. She had become everything her family needed to sustain their tenuous hold on what they had left. Most would have thought that it was enough for any woman, but, judging by her steely manner, she was not one to shirk her duties.

He could not believe that one naïve Cornish girl could possess so much spirit, so much courage, so much grit. He tried to tell himself that it was just lust she had stirred in him when he had first seen her at the ball, that being too long at sea and deprived of the company of a beautiful woman meant any would do. But that did not explain this growing fascination—this obsession—that held him in thrall to Rowena Golding.

When news of the attack by corsairs on the
Petrel
and the capture of everyone on board reached Falmouth, it caused outrage and horror. Yet the seizure of these people was neither unique nor unusual. For more than a century these attacks had been rife, and the trade in white slaves from across Europe destroyed families and wrecked innocent lives.

When Rowena was told, the messenger had to repeat it twice before it sank in and she could only stand there, staring at him in horror and disbelief, and then she
understood, and what he said made everything else seem insignificant.

Jane, her beautiful sister, was gone. Dear God, she could not bear to lose her. She could not face a world without her sister's special blend of gentleness and loving and wisdom that calmed her own wild and impulsive nature. She was in the clutches of the Barbary pirates. They would take her beyond the maps of her English mind to some horrible stronghold where she would be sold as a slave.

When the initial shock had worn off, Rowena's natural resilience returned and with it a fierce anger. She was determined that whatever it took, Jane must be found. When her father agonizingly asked what was to be done, she said, ‘Pursuit, Father. That is the only way. Somehow she must be rescued. I won't rest until we have her safe back here—where she belongs.' Rowena took his hand and squeezed it hard. ‘I will find her, if I have to rake the sea from here to North Africa myself.'

A broken man, he nodded. ‘Whatever it takes. Jane should never have left Falmouth on such a perilous journey. It is difficult to see how pursuit can be made until we have precise information about where they have taken her.'

Rowena faced the truth of this. Jane could be anywhere. There were hundreds of miles of sea out there, many islands and coastlines swarming with those wretched pirates.

I
n desperation Rowena went down to the harbour to talk to some fishermen she knew, not knowing what she would achieve by this, but desperately hoping to find someone who would help her in her dilemma. The information she was given by one fisherman was unexpected. It would seem there was only one man who could help her—Tobias Searle.

Rowena felt her hopes rise. It would seem the whole of Cornwall had heard of the exploits of Tobias Searle. By all accounts he was the scourge of every pirate and brigand between Europe and the Caribbean. He had feelers everywhere and knew the seas and the North African coast like the pirates themselves.

Rowena stood looking at the
Cymbeline
in silence for a long time. Until yesterday it had been riding at anchor out in the bay, but now it was moored further along the quay. If what she had been told was true, then could she humbly go to Tobias Searle and beg his help? Plead with
him to help her, bargain with him? But she had nothing to bargain with. Slowly her gaze shifted from the majestic vessel to the smaller
Rowena Jane
, and she realised she had something to offer him after all.

Rowena hated the thought of humbling herself before her father's sworn enemy, but her desperation to find Jane was the stronger force. If it meant he would help her, she would crawl and grovel to Old Nick himself. He represented her one chance of finding Jane.

She observed the vessel was taking on provisions, as though it was preparing to leave, which she considered strange, since she truly believed Mr Searle would not leave Falmouth until her father had paid him what he owed him.

Walking towards the vessel, she paused at the bottom of the broad plank connecting the ship to the quay, along which members of the crew were carrying casks of water and salt meat and other provisions.

‘I wish to see Mr Searle,' she said to the first man she encountered. ‘He—is on board?'

‘Aye, miss—in 'is cabin with Mr Dexter. Follow me and I'll take you to him.'

The cabin, with dark wood panelling and polished chairs, was quite splendid. Tobias was at a table, poring over a chart spread out over its surface, his finger on a particular spot. Another man stood beside him. Tobias looked up.

‘Rowena?' Though he was clearly surprised, it in no way shattered his cool disdain.

‘I'm sorry to intrude, but I would be grateful if you could spare me a little of your time.'

He grinned. ‘Forgive me. I thought you were the new cabin boy.'

Her eyebrows rose. ‘Do I look like a cabin boy?'

His gaze flicked over her in her sky blue muslin sprigged with tiny violet flowers and a violet velvet sash about her waist. Grinning, he had a wicked twinkle in his eye, as though her arrival on board was an amusing diversion. He shook his head. ‘Not in the slightest. This is Mr Dexter, captain of the
Cymbeline
. Mark, allow me to present to you Miss Golding.'

Mark Dexter stepped towards her, smiling broadly. About forty years of age, he was a splendidly built man, broad shouldered and bearded, with a lined and cheerful countenance.

‘Welcome aboard, Miss Golding. If you will excuse me, I am needed on the quarterdeck.'

When they were alone, Tobias stood still across the cabin, his eyes running over her swiftly, and there was something in their depths Rowena could not fathom.

‘And what brings you into the camp of the enemy with such urgency, Rowena?'

She stared at him, the rush of familiar excitement causing her to become tongue tied, affected strongly as she was by the force of his presence. He was dressed in a brown leather sleeveless jerkin over his loose white shirt. Studying him, she was acutely aware of the strong arms where the shirt had been rolled up to the elbows, of the small area of chest exposed by the open neck of his shirt.

Calming herself, she said, ‘I have come here on a matter of the greatest importance to me and my father.'

The startling blue eyes rested on her ironically. ‘You have come to settle his debt?'

She coloured hotly and shook her head. ‘No, I'm afraid not. I am here because I believe you are the only person who might be able to help us.'

‘Us?'

Rowena could sense that he was wary, that his guard had been dropped just a little, but his steady gaze told her he was not going to make it easy for her.

‘Of what help could I possibly be to you and your father? Did he send you here to plead for him, to use your petty wiles?' His voice was instantly terse.

Rowena controlled her temper as he rested his hips on the edge of the table and folded his arms across his broad chest. He had not invited her to sit down, and she knew he was deliberately keeping her on tenterhooks until she told him the reason for her visit.

‘My father knows nothing of this visit. If he ever found out, he would flay me to within an inch of my life for sure.'

A muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘Then what is it that only I can do to help you? My curiosity is aroused as to why you have sought me out on my ship without your father's knowledge.'

Confident that he would not turn her away without a hearing, Rowena moved towards him and looked at him directly to allow him to see the velvet softness of her long-lashed eyes. She meant to make use of every advantage she possessed.

‘What is it, Rowena?'

She stopped just three feet from him. He was telling
her he had no time to waste on pleasantries. He was busy with his own concerns, his manner said. She would be better served to state her case and be on her way.

‘You will know about the
Petrel
, the passenger vessel that was bound for the Scilly Isles and was attacked by pirates?'

His jaw tightened. ‘I have heard. What of it?'

‘Are you not concerned?'

He shrugged. ‘Not unduly. It happens all the time.'

She drew a breath, steeling herself against his reaction. Her face was flushed as she realised she had never felt so unsure of herself. ‘This—is difficult for me.'

He eyed her keenly, his brow puckered. ‘Really? In what way? I must ask you to state your business—I've not got all day.'

‘No, indeed,' she said icily, finding it difficult to keep her temper under control, but knowing she must if she was to win him over. ‘You are a man of some importance and a reputation that most seamen must envy.'

His eyes narrowed. ‘Let's get to the point. I'm not a man who needs to be buttered up before he can be asked to do anything. Speak plain, Rowena. You want something from me and you must want it badly for you to seek me out like this.'

‘I do. The devil drives where the devil must,' she said, feeling that the devil was certainly driving her when she must grovel to this man. ‘You will not have heard that my sister was on the
Petrel
, and that she was taken captive.'

At last she had his interest.

‘No, I had no idea. I'm sorry. It can't be easy for any of you, but I still don't see why you are here.'

‘To ask you to help me find her.'

He looked at her in genuine astonishment. ‘Rowena, there really is no other woman who would have the damned impudence to come here, after all that has happened between us, and ask me to find her sister.'

‘I know what it looks like, but I—I thought…'

‘What? That I would up anchor and sail into some of the most hostile waters in the world to search for one young woman? Did it not occur to you that I have my own ship, my own business, to attend to, and that I would not be languishing in Falmouth harbour if I were not waiting for your father to settle his debt to me?'

‘There is nothing I can do about that.'

He looked at her hard and then after a pause, he said, ‘You want me to do the impossible. You are asking me to go behind your father's back and take my crew into a hornets' nest, where there is every chance they might not survive.'

Fire sprang into her eyes. She clenched her hands tightly in the folds of her skirt. ‘I would not have thought the task so impossible for a man such as yourself. I have been told you know the coast and the sea around North Africa well, and that you are acquainted with some of the Barbarians personally. I have no wish to know the whys and wherefores of this—that is your business—but with all this to your favour you are better qualified to find my sister than anyone else.'

For a moment he looked at her in silence. There was
a glint in his eyes. ‘I cannot believe you have come here to ask this mad, impossible thing.'

Rowena felt a wave of desperation as she strove for control. ‘Do you think I don't know that? It is mad and perhaps it is impossible,' she exploded, her eyes bright with anger, ‘but I have to try. If you will not help me, perhaps you can tell me someone who will, because I swear that if there is the slightest chance of finding Jane I will row all the way to North Africa myself.' Behind her words lay the shadow of a struggle. When she had entered the cabin her objective had looked close within her reach; now it seemed as remote as ever.

‘Don't be a fool, Rowena. Look at the facts before you do anything rash. The fanatical, tyrannical network of Islamic slave traders have declared war on the whole of Christendom, and the whole of Europe has been hit by repeated raids, including England's coastal villages. Thousands have been snatched from their homes and taken to Algiers and Sale in chains. The corsairs are highly disciplined. They are ruthless and make a formidable fighting force. No one knows what happens to the captives seized by the corsairs. Once sold, many disappear without trace and are never heard of again. That is a fact, and cruel, as it may seem, you must accept it.'

‘Never. I will never accept it. What would you do, if it were your sister who had been captured? Would you not want to go after her, to get her back?'

Rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded slowly. ‘If I am honest, yes, I would.'

‘Then, please, I beg of you to give it some thought.
If it were within my power, I would pay you anything you asked.'

Tobias cocked a brow. ‘Anything, Rowena? I cannot think of any amount of money that might tempt me.'

‘You have to help us, for without your help Jane is doomed. Will you please think it over?' Her voice cracked painfully and she was looking at him with eyes that had turned a brilliant and quite incredible green in her despair.

‘I have no wish to think it over and no need. I am sorry for your loss, but I cannot help you.'

A great wave of disappointment and anger filled her heart. ‘So, you refuse,' she said with a rush of emotion. ‘You really don't care, do you? You don't care for anyone but yourself. My sister can rot in some Arab prison and be murdered for all you care and you won't lift a finger to help.'

‘Spare me your temper, Rowena,' he said, his voice clipped. ‘No one can help her. It would be useless to try.'

‘But you must,' she blurted out. ‘There is no one else.'

‘Rowena,' he said, sighing deeply, ‘you never cease to amaze me.'

She bristled at his light, mocking tone.

‘The debt your father owes me stands between us. Does that not bother you?'

‘Of course it does, and I hate myself for having to come to you of all people for help, which must show you the extent of my desperation. I am quite helpless at going after my sister myself.'

‘The hell you are. Helpless be damned. A woman who can approach her father's enemy and beg for
favours, and still lift her head with fire in her eyes, is not helpless.' He shook his head, his thick hair falling over his wide brow, unmistakable laughter bubbling in his chest, rich and infectious. ‘No helpless female would dare to board my ship alone and with nothing on her person for protection. You deserve a commendation for sheer guts, Rowena. I salute your courage and your boldness. You are undeniably brave—as well as beautiful. But your father is in debt to me up to his ears. Would you compound that debt by adding to it?'

‘There—there is something I could give in payment.' With surprise she was conscious that he was now studying her with a different interest. She returned his look. His expression did not alter, and yet she felt the air between them charged with emotion.

‘Could you indeed? You mean that you and I could have—a very delightful arrangement?'

His voice was like silk and his eyes had become a warm and very appreciative blue, and Rowena knew immediately what price he was asking her to pay. She felt fury rise up inside her—not just with him, but with herself and the excitement that stirred at the very idea.

‘When I spoke of payment, I was talking about the
Rowena Jane
.'

‘And why would I want another ship? I have any amount of vessels and no need of another.' He frowned. ‘The
Rowena Jane
belongs to your father. What right have you to offer it to me?'

‘Father—is quite beside himself with worry about Jane. He would do anything to have her home safely.'