Читать книгу Within A Captain's Treasure - Lisa A. Olech - Страница 10

When Quinn entered his quarters, he found their famous guest curled up upon his bed fast asleep. She wore his shirt, which tucked beneath her and pulled tight to her body. A length of smooth, pale thigh stretched out beneath. He fingered the breeches in his hands and could picture her legs and the curve of her bottom clad in the snug buff fabric.

It had been a long time since he had a beautiful woman in his bed. And Alice was beautiful. The realization threw him off guard. She’d scrubbed her face and let down her hair. Chestnut waves caressed her pale cheek and caught the lantern light.

The ties at the neck of the shirt hung loose, exposing a tempting shadow between her breasts. He closed his eyes to the sight, willing his body to squelch the sudden flare of heat that pooled in his crotch.

His disobedient mind envisioned another fine-milled, garment from long ago, with its row of tiny white shell buttons. Each slipping in turn from their assigned loop from neckline to waist. Parting the fabric, he slipped a hand beneath to stroke the impossible softness of her breast. Was there anything to compare with the silk of a woman’s skin? Warm, round. He could still smell the rosewater she used.

Pushing aside the fragile fabric, he kissed his way down to take her tightened nipple into his mouth. Circling the firm tip with his tongue, he swept her nightshift off her shoulders and cupped the opposite breast. She trembled at his touch. Moaning when he began to suckle. Pushing her hand into his hair to hold him to her, she begged him not to stop and covered his kneading hand with her own, urging him on. Arching into her pleasure, she sighed his name. He could almost hear her. “Gavin…”

Hands curled into fists. Sweat rolled between his shoulder blades. The pain in his chest competed with the surging ache in his cock. When he opened his eyes, Alice Tupper lay in his bed staring at him. Her bright green gaze held his.

Turning his back to her, he grasped at the shreds of his control. Black anger dimmed the edges of his vision. He pulled a great breath into his lungs. His jaw ticked. It wasn’t her fault her eyes weren’t blue.

* * * *

Alice woke to Quinn watching her with a queer look about his face. She knew that look. Having seen it on more than one occasion, it was usually followed by her fighting for her honor with some man intent on rutting between her thighs. But then another look flitted across his face before he turned away from her.

“Captain Quinn?”

“Put these on.” He tossed her a pair of tanned breeches and kept his back turned. When he glanced back she had started to roll the ridiculous sleeves of his shirt past her wrists. The tails hung to her knees. “They will serve for now. You’re still in need of proper clothing. I have a man working to gather things to fit you.”

She nodded. “I’m grateful.”

He hadn’t looked at her. Alice couldn’t read him at all.

“The Delmar is away.” He stated most matter of fact. “We left the remainder of the crew to their dead.”

Alice hesitated. Worry made her ask, but she was afraid she didn’t want to know the answer. “What of the other women?”

“They were lost.” His answer was clipped. The sudden lump in her throat silenced her response. He gave her a sharp look. “Add some seventy slaves and crewmembers, I’d say you are lucky to be standing here. Even if it is in borrowed pants.”

The faces of those poor women swam before her vision. Milly. Her sickly companion. So many dead.

“It’s been voted. You’re to stay aboard the Scarlet Night until we can deliver you to Virginia. Many of my crew have heard the story from Port Royal. They’re pleased to have you aboard. Some will tolerate your presence, but there are a few whom you should be wary of. You’ll earn your keep tending the sick, as well as any other duty I deem suitable. Tonight you bunk here. Come tomorrow we’ll have another spot for you to bed down.”

He planted his hands on his hips. “We’ve brought aboard those slaves left alive, some are fighting to stay that way. The ship is crowded; space is limited. You’ll be given whatever considerations we can, but I warn ye not to expect grand accommodations. Neither I, nor any member of my crew will be your personal traveling companion. You’ll do your chores, stay out of the way, and make no trouble. Do you understand?”

Alice’s head was spinning. Her emotions ran from despair to relief to indignation with each passing second. She’d always known a life of servitude, but being ordered about like this rankled her. What did he think she was going to do? Become some demanding shrew? Cling to him like a pampered, sniveling mollycoddled twit. Was he afraid she’d open a brothel and start charging by the hour?

“Aye, aye, Captain.” She tapped her forehead.

He narrowed his eyes. “While you are not now, nor will ever be a member of my crew, you will show me the respect due the captain of this ship.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw. “Evidently such respect only extends to you.”

Quinn shot her a warning glance as he began gathering up his logbooks and several personal items. He made a point of taking his closed razor and pointing it at her. “You’d do well to sheathe that tongue, as well. When you’re among the men, you’ll keep your head down and your mouth shut.” Quinn donned his coat before planting his hat upon his head.

Alice notched her chin. “Do I have no say at all?”

“No. You do not. Not unless you think you can make it to Virginia on your own.” With his arms full, he moved to the door. “You’ll remain here until you can abide by my rules and present yourself on my decks properly.”

“I’m curious.” Alice stopped him with his hand on the door’s latch. “Which camp do you fall into, Captain Quinn? You’re not one of the pleased. Are you one of the tolerant, or one I should be wary of?”

Quinn narrowed his eyes. “Disobey me, and you’ll have your answer soon enough.” He slammed out of his quarters.

Alice fought the urge to hurl something heavy and fragile at the door. The nerve of the man. Frustration won. “Aaahh.” She pushed her hands into her hair and dropped onto the side of the bed. “Keep my head down and my mouth shut?” Neither was a practiced skill.

Alice started to pace. “Insufferable oaf. Present myself properly. ‘Not unless you think you can make it to Virginia on your own.’” She blew out an angry breath. “And what was the look on his face when he came in? Lust? Revulsion?” Hadn’t she always heard of Gavin Quinn’s fine character? She remembered overhearing conversations between Captain Steele and Annalise after he transferred the Scarlet Night to him. They had nothing but good things to say about the man. Trusted him above all others.

She paced some more. He’d startled her when he first came in. Her defensive walls had snapped shut. Fear was quick to flash into rage. But was it misplaced?

Alice rubbed a hand over her eyes. The faces of the other women passed through her mind. Poor, sweet Milly. What hell had she endured? And those black men and women. Treated like something inhuman. It all added to her fury.

Captain Quinn, while boorish, had done nothing untoward. He’d brought her onto his ship, tended her wounded arm, clothed her. He was prepared to sail her to Virginia, and she’d insulted him, and taken over his quarters. It wasn’t his wish to violate her. She was here as a protection until he could gage the crew’s reaction to her being aboard. Where was he to sleep tonight? And more to the point, why did she suddenly care?

Alice squeezed her eyes tight. She cared because her future was in his hands, and she’d taken his brash-edged compassion and thrown it back in his face. She cared because she was beginning to despise the woman she was becoming.

Deep fear and mistrust and a cold ruthlessness surrounded her when she was threatened. The speed and brutality with which she could defend herself stunned her. When had she turned into a heartless killer? Alice stopped short. She knew the very moment. It played over and over in her mind. That single life-shattering second when she raised a cutlass high above her head out of fury and not out of fear.

The room closed in on her. Panic nipped at her heels as memories trapped her in the nightmare once more. She crossed the cabin and tested the door, knowing it would be locked and fearing the wave of terror that would follow. But the door opened. Alice peered down the galley way. It was empty. No guard posted to keep her in. Quinn told her to stay here for her safety, not because she was a prisoner.

At her feet, a trencher of food had been left. She hadn’t heard it arrive. The smell of rich stew and bread had her stomach protesting the emptiness of her belly. When had she eaten last? She couldn’t remember. After bringing the long bowl inside, she attacked the food until she could eat no more.

Wrapping herself in a thick wool blanket she curled up in the oak-paneled niche which served as Quinn’s bed. Captain Quinn’s distain, prisoner or no, intolerant crewmembers, and a future of deadly uncertainty wrestled within her mind until she couldn’t think any more. The gentle roll of the ship and a full stomach lulled her to sleep.

* * * *

Alice snapped awake. The morning burned bright through the sparkling diamond windows. Where had the night gone? She had slept straight through to morning. By the look, the captain had been true to his word and not returned. If given the chance today, she would behave more graciously toward him. Thank him. Apologize for her rudeness. Then perhaps he would apologize for his.

A quick knock tapped upon the door. Alice tried to smooth the unruliness of her hair. A young boy—no more than a child—entered carrying a small pile of clothing and a pewter plate of bread and cheese. He wore a wide-brimmed gray hat trimmed with a froth of white feather upon his head. It was much too large for him. After he placed his burdens upon the desk, he lifted his chin and peeked at her from under the hat. Large dark eyes within a thin pinched face captured hers. He couldn’t have been more than five or six years of age. Whatever was a boy so young doing on a pirate ship?

“And who are you?” Alice tipped down to peer beneath the wide brim.

He watched her mouth and frowned before removing the hat and adding it to the pile of clothes. His hair was a tangle of short dark ropes. He turned without a word and left.

“Wait,” she called, but the door shut, and he was gone without a word.

She washed using what was left of the water in Quinn’s pitcher and looked over the clothing brought to her. The rough-weave, wide-sleeved shirt fit her perfectly and fell to mid-thigh of the snug tan breeches she already wore. A wide leather belt the color of burgundy was loose for her waist but rode low on her hips. Knit stockings fit snug upon her legs, but the tall black boots were too large. Short of going barefoot, they would have to suffice. The crowning glory was the hat. Gray tooled leather with a plume of white curving to meet the band. One side stood proud giving it a dashing look.

Alice secured her hair into a long braid to drape one shoulder and pushed the hat upon her head. Captain Quinn possessed only a small looking glass, to presumably shave, but looking down, she supposed she looked like a proper pirate. Did this mean she was ready to venture above deck and report to Quinn?

The thought of stepping out onto the decks brought a mixture of apprehension and excitement. She wiped at the dampness of her palms across the curve of her thighs. They looked odd in breeches. Alice was pleased with her new attire, however. There was something about a man’s garments. She liked the way they moved. The ease of motion. They gave her an unusual confidence no gown could ever give.

Alice made her way along the galley way, her gait had a distinct—what was the word?—swagger.