The Captain's Lady Page 11

  “But if he knows all that, then why—”

  “No. Let me ask the question. Why do you think he brought you along?”

  “For those reasons?” she asked haltingly.

  Landis nodded. “He will tell you sooner or later himself. He knew it the afternoon he took you. He brought you for the very reasons I asked him to leave you behind.”

  “You asked him not to take me?”

  “I did, but he was already determined to do as he wanted. You and he are similar in that way.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Mr. Landis?”

  “Because someone has to.”

  “And why doesn’t the captain tell me for himself?”

  “Because for him it would mean admitting he was going to lose you.”

  “I suppose I knew that,” she conceded softly. “In some ways he has been telling me all along.”

  Landis merely smiled, his eyes searching her face for an understanding of what had just been said. When he found it he left her and went below.

  Alexis remained on deck, helping some of the men clean out the guns, while she mulled over what Landis had said. His interest in her predicament confused her. She could not understand his special friendship with the captain although she had glimpsed it several times during the day. Thirty years separated the two men but there was a bond between them that nullified those years. “Because someone has to” he had said when she asked why he was explaining the captain’s actions. He wasn’t meddling in a private conflict, she realized.

  He was pointing out the truth and she secretly thanked him for it.

  In the early evening Alexis returned to the galley and ate her own dinner before she took Cloud’s tray to his cabin.

  She knocked firmly on the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Your dinner, Captain.”

  “Bring it in.” Cloud did not like the irritation in his voice. He did not want to see Alexis alone again today. It had been so hard to control his desire to make love to her this afternoon when she had run to him, first demanding then pleading that he take her back to Tortula.

  He wanted to whisper “no” softly against the hollow of her throat, “no” against the curve of her naked arm, “no” while his head lay gently at her breast so his breath would kiss her tawny skin with its warmth. He would have formed the word while his fingers caressed her golden hair, while his hands slid along the length of her slim legs and traveled over the smoothness of her flat stomach. He wanted to sigh his refusal against the glistening flesh revealed by her parted thighs and to say it firmly while his lips brushed against the center of her womanhood.

  He glanced at the charts in front of him. The lines on the paper fused and he blinked to clear his vision. He heard the door open quietly behind him.

  Alexis set the tray on the only clear space on the table she could find. She hoped he would not notice her trembling hands. They trembled every time she thought of all Landis had told her. They trembled now, as she watched Cloud push back his dark copper hair with the heel of his hand, in anticipation that he would say those things to her. They trembled in anticipation of what awaited her when he did.

  She hid her hands in the folds of her dress. It was an unnecessary gesture because he did not look at her when she spoke. “I will come back for the tray later. You said you wanted me to polish your boots. Should I get them then?”

  “Yes, yes,” he answered impatiently. He dismissed her with a wave of his hand but he watched her out of the corner of his eye as she walked past him to leave his quarters.

  Alexis went to her cabin to put it in order. She had not had a moment to herself since joining the crew. Landis had placed a pair of trousers for her on the bunk and she eagerly snatched them, putting them on under her dress. Delighted that they fit she quickly discarded her dress and looked for a shirt. He obviously had not been able to find her one, but she remembered she still had Cloud’s shirt. She slipped it on, rolling the cuffs up to her elbows. She glanced at herself in the mirror, satisfied with her appearance. The clothes no longer could hide the truth of her sex as they had when she was thirteen. In some ways they actually accentuated her femininity. Even a haircut and a knitted cap would no longer help, she thought with pleasure. She had not asked for the clothes in order to deny being a woman, only to aid her in doing her job as best she could. The captain’s white linen shirt could not conceal the outline of her breasts in its folds and the trousers, while they gave her ample leg room, fit snugly across her abdomen and hips. Reluctantly she took off the clothes, deciding to ask Cloud if she could have the shirt before she wore it. She washed her face to remove the smudges of gunpowder and grease, and washed her hair, braiding it while it was still damp. She put on a clean dress. When she thought Cloud had had plenty of time to finish his meal she returned to his cabin to get the tray and his boots.

  He had not touched his food, and she commented on the fact.

  “Since when is it your concern if I choose to eat or not?” he countered, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his chest. He eyed her warily, not believing she would care.

  “In truth, Captain, Alex Danty does not care why you haven’t eaten, since the reasons could hardly concern her. Your cabin boy is concerned because not eating, and the way you are studying those charts, could have something to do with this ship.”

  Cloud picked up a pencil and tapped it lightly on the table. There was something in her tone he had never heard before. A false sweetness. And he was leery of it. “Would the cabin boy accept the fact that I am just not hungry?”

  “Yes, of course,” she answered. “Though I doubt Forrest is going to believe it when I return a full tray to him.”

  “You can set Forrest’s mind at ease, as well as your own. There is nothing wrong with the ship or the course we are taking. I doubt he will say anything.”

  “No, you’re right. He won’t say anything,” she said innocently. “But your cabin boy had to know for sure so he could tell Alex. She won’t be pleased that she possibly upset your appetite.” Alexis jumped back as Cloud snapped the pencil he was holding in two. The sound echoed in the room, but the silence that followed was even more frightening.

  She saw his features harden, his jaw stiffen, and his lips pull tight in a thin line. Her hand flew to her mouth at the realization of just how horrible she had been. What a stupid game to play. She had tested his patience in a way that belittled her.

  Cloud pushed his chair back with a sudden jerk and stood. In a few short strides he narrowed the distance between them. He grabbed her brutally around the waist with one arm while his other hand reached for her braid. Finding it, he tugged it hard, forcing her head back, tilting her mouth toward him.

  “Of all the things I thought you were,” he whispered menacingly. “A coy bitch was not one of them.” His mouth came down on hers, crushing her lips. She kicked at him, pounded his back, as he ravaged her mouth with his tongue. Her lips were bruised under his brutal kiss. There was no tenderness in the way he held her or in the way he forced her body to press against his. Alexis was glad. This was her punishment for being something she wasn’t; to be taken in a manner that repulsed her, just as her words had repulsed him. She deserved this, she thought. And then she fought him with all her strength. She had her answers now. She had not meant to bait him into admitting that she was the reason he couldn’t eat, couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think without thinking of her. By his actions he was naming her crime, naming the reason he had brought her with him. He had brought her for everything she was. Now he was proving that by using her as a man would use any woman he no longer respected.

  She felt his hand travel from her hair to her breasts. He slipped it into her bodice and pressed his fingers cruelly against her flesh. Suddenly he pushed away. Startled by the loss of support for her body, Alexis stumbled backward and fell.

  “Was it enough, Alex?” he asked, breath rasping, green eyes hard and biting as he stared down at her limp form. “Did yo
u find out what you wanted to know? Did the consequence suit the action?”

  “Yes,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “I didn’t hear you, Alex. Was that yes? To which question?”

  “Yes,” she repeated louder. “Yes. To all of them.” She stared at his face, unable to avert her gaze. His disgust was evident and she tried to memorize exactly how he looked at that moment so she would never cause anyone to look at her like that again.

  His disgust faded and he seemed to accept her answer. He held out his hand to help her to her feet. She was being harder on herself than he could ever be. His lips parted in surprise when she refused his outstretched hand. She remained motionless on the deck and he dropped his hand to his side.

  Alexis spoke quietly, but with a firmness that came from conviction. “Cloud, I want to be the cabin boy now—only that. I hurt you just now—me as well—by playing one part of myself against the other. I was wrong and I can only tell you that it will never happen again. Will you do that for me? Will you be the captain?”

  “For how long, Alex?” His tone was almost that of a plea. “How long can either of us keep up the pretense, wanting each other as we do?”

  Alexis shook her head. “I don’t know. Perhaps only long enough for me to get out of this room.” She knew he still wanted her and she, him. If she could not leave quickly she might never be able to leave at all. It was hard admitting that she needed his help to do it. She was afraid for the first time since she met him that he might be able to hold her prisoner after all.

  Cloud knew she was punishing herself by denying what she wanted most at this moment. She wanted him now, not in spite of what he had done, but rather because he had done it. It was the only reason he granted her request, and even while he did it he knew he would have to pay for letting her go. He walked over to his chair and sat down, sliding his foot in her direction.

  “I believe you came for my boots as well as my tray, Danty. You may have them now.” His voice was cool, arrogant.

  Alexis stood and walked toward him. She knelt in front of him and removed his boots. Cloud struggled with himself. As he looked down at her lowered head he wanted to tell her to stop, that this was not necessary. He did not want her to do any more penance. Yet he allowed her to continue, knowing she had never done anything so menial in her life and it was more difficult for her than him.

  She took the boots and the tray, and started for the door. Cloud went back to his charts. When she reached the door she hesitated, remembering the shirt.

  “What is it, Danty?” he asked tightly when he noticed the brief pause in lier step.

  “Mr. Landis gave me the trousers I needed but no shirt,” she explained in low tones. “I still have the one I took from your things this morning. May I wear it?”

  Cloud stared at the papers before him, but he only saw images of Alexis attired in those clothes. He turned to her and scanned her figure slowly. He knew he was about to pay for having let her go. “You’ll look quite fetching in them, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” she answered truthfully. She opened the door before she was unable to.

  “You may have the shirt.” He turned away, closing his eyes, and listened for the sound of the barrier shutting between them. How long until she would come to him? He looked at his charts and books, and put them aside, his interest gone.

  Alexis went to her cabin and polished Cloud’s boots with a vengeance that yielded a high gloss when she was through. It was settled between them. There would be no more tests. Her goal remained the same: to escape his hold and carry out her promise for revenge. A faint smile crossed her face when she thought of his goal, unchanged except for a brief lapse a short while ago: to stop her.

  Alexis placed the boots outside his door, then went for a short walk on deck. She welcomed the cool ocean breeze that whipped at her hair and face, and when she turned in that evening she fell into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

  Chapter 6

  The following morning Alexis woke early, rested and ready to perform her duties with a new interest. As long as it was unnecessary to prove anything more to Cloud she felt comfortable in assuming a student role and becoming more knowledgeable in areas where she had little experience.

  She washed and dressed quickly, wearing the clothes Landis and Cloud had provided. She brushed out her hair and hastily redid the yellow plait. When she reported to the galley Forrest informed her sourly that the captain had already eaten and gone on deck. She stayed and helped the cook until he complained she was getting in the way. Alexis thanked him and went topside.

  Cloud’s first impulse was to look away when Alexis stepped on deck from the hold. He forced himself to keep sea green eyes trained on her lithe and graceful form as she approached him. Her shirt—his shirt, he reminded himself—was open at the neck, revealing the soft hollow of her throat. As wind swept past her it caught the extra material, pressing the linen against her chest so he could make out the rounded outline of her breasts. Her hips swayed gently as she walked. He bit his lip remembering this was the way she always walked, only now the trousers accentuated the easiness of her gait. He looked around at his crew, taking in the obvious pleasure on their faces as they also watched Alexis. It was part of the price he knew, that not only should he be compelled to watch her but that he had to share what he saw with others.

  Harry Young, high atop the ship, saw Alexis walk across the deck and he called down to her. Alexis put one hand over her brows to shield her eyes against the bright sun as she tilted her head and bent her body back at the waist to look up at him. Smiling, she raised her other hand to wave.

  “Come on!” He called. “I could use you up here!”

  Alexis glanced hesitantly at Cloud for a sign of permission. He gave her a short, impersonal nod and she scrambled up the rigging to help Harry.

  “She does it pretty well, doesn’t she, Captain?” Landis asked.

  Cloud took his eyes from Alexis’s diminishing form and turned to his friend. “Damn well, I’d say. She doesn’t do a bad job on boots either.” He leaned against the taffrail, stretching out his legs, and lifted one foot a few inches off the deck.

  Landis’s gaze dropped to the shiny black boots, and when he looked back at Cloud his eyes registered mild horror. “You didn’t,” he whispered, his voice betraying his disbelief.

  Smiling, Cloud put his hand on the older man’s shoulder. He squeezed it with firm friendliness. “I did,” he replied, no guilt in his tone. He released Landis and walked away, leaving him to sort out the reason he would order Alexis to do such a thing. Landis would be pulling at his beard for hours. And he would get no more information from Alexis or him.

  The morning and afternoon passed quickly for Alexis. She found the men were more than willing to answer her questions about guns and battle strategy. At first it was a game for them, relating stories of famous sea battles they had either been in or heard about. When they saw the earnestness with which Alexis hung on every word, they hesitated to tell her any more. They were reluctant to play any part in what could ultimately be her death. Alexis wore them down gradually, one at a time, satisfied each time she convinced a man of her determination.

  She knew every man she won over helped make her escape less difficult. Cloud would anticipate her attempt to get his men on her side, and he would counter her gains at every turn. Time stood on the captain’s side. He had already earned his men’s loyalty and she had only a short time to do the same thing. If there was no opportunity to leave the ship before she reached Washington the crew would be of no help, no matter what they thought of her.

  She brought Cloud his dinner and, as at lunch, no unnecessary words passed between them. She went to her cabin to wait for him to finish his meal. Lying on her bunk, she surveyed the room. She looked at the rapiers mounted on the wall against a blood-red velvet backing. Before, they had been merely decorations on an otherwise bare wall. Now they screamed purpose at her. She took one down, testing the weight and balance. She took a
few short sweeps through the air, assuming the stance and grip Pauley had taught her. The hilt was too large for her hand; she knew her arm would tire easily. She put it back and tested another. When she had tried them all she chose the one that seemed an extension of her arm.

  She had handled such a weapon many times since Pauley had instructed her. George had expressed an interest in teaching her for his own exercise. Though Francine had protested loudly, and always in French, Alexis and George found opportunities at the office. She was grateful for those lessons now as the proper moves came back to her. She knew she needed practice and more instruction, but surely among the crew there had to be someone skilled with a fencing épée. She touched her finger lightly to the point and pulled back quickly when she drew blood. She replaced the blade in its place on the wall. Then she went to get the captain’s tray.

  “Captain,” she said, pouring him the wine he requested.

  “There are some fencing blades in my room. Do they belong to you?”

  “Yes, Danty.” He took a sip of his drink, not at all amused by what he knew was coming. He also knew he would not refuse the dogged determination in the amber eyes presently appraising him.

  “Would you give me permission to use one of them if I can find someone to instruct me?”

  “You have my permission. Who will you look for to teach you?”

  “The best on this ship,” she said certainly.

  “Then you better get this back to Forrest,” he pointed to the tray, “and start your search.” He allowed himself a wry smile when she left, sure of where her search would lead her.

  Alexis quickly finished her work in the galley and got the weapon, eager to take advantage of the few hours of light left. When she went to the upper deck she saw Landis and several others sitting in a small circle, finishing their dinner. They motioned her to come over.

  “You can sit here,” Frank Springer said. “If you promise not to use that thing on any of us.”