The Captain's Lady Page 31

  “She is a heroine!”

  “Aye, that she is!”

  “I won’t accept it!”

  “We’ll do something.”

  “We’ll do nothing.”

  It was Landis’s weary voice that caught their attention. He was shaking his head slowly, his face pale, and the motion seemed to drain him further.

  “We’ll do nothing,” he repeated. “The captain has forbidden it. Whatever else you think you want to do, you cannot go against his orders.” He smiled at them. “After all, we’re his men. Or had you forgotten?”

  He said nothing more. The discussion was over. He got his coat and the others followed his example. They had caught a small gleam of hope in his gray eyes even while they saw nothing but hopelessness in the set of his mouth. They did not know what to make of either impression.

  Upstairs, alone in his room, Cloud lay on his bed. He had discarded his jacket and torn open the collar of his shirt. He was as relaxed now as he had been when he’d left Davidson’s dining room. His head rested comfortably in the cradle of his hands, his fingers mingling with the strands of dark copper hair. His eyes were closed and the smooth line of his mouth was evidence of his lack of tension.

  The only thought in his mind, the thought relaxing him so completely, was the knowledge that Alexis could be persuaded to do what she must to avoid prison. He merely had to be willing to employ the means by which she would do so.

  Kurt Jordan glanced down at the tousled head at his side. The wind was taking the boy’s hair and blowing strands across his face, denying Jordan the pleasure of seeing his bright, eager eyes. Captain Jordan’s mouth curled in a satisfied grin as he looked in the direction of the boy’s attention.

  “Just a few hours, Peach. We’ll have Captain Danty with us before long.”

  Peach glanced up. “Do you think she’ll be there?” he asked earnestly. “What if they take her away? You don’t think they arrested her, do you? I mean, what if she’s in prison?”

  “Slow down,” said Jordan. “First of all we have to make some inquiries after we dock. Maybe she already got away. If she didn’t, it won’t be hard to find out what happened to her. There’s got to be someone from the Concord who can be forced to tell us something. We’ll find her, so stop worrying.”

  “It’s not just that, Captain.”

  “Well, what else?”

  “She’s going to be awfully angry with us, isn’t she?”

  “Furious.”

  “It doesn’t seem to bother you.” Peach’s voice held a note of wonder. He could not imagine facing Captain Danty’s anger head on.

  “It doesn’t matter to me at all. Her anger means nothing as long as she’s here to give it. I’ll welcome her fury just to see those blazing golden eyes again.”

  Peach turned his face toward the sight of land. The early morning sun was behind him and he reveled in its warmth.

  Cloud woke as the first ray of light crossed his face. He was still in his clothes but he felt more rested than he had in days. His eyes were anxiously bright as he thought of all he had to do. He permitted himself to lie in bed a moment longer to put off the pleasure doing it.

  His movements as he bathed and dressed were unhurried. He went to Alexis’s room and slowly folded her clothes. He discarded the blankets and pillows occupying an old trunk and placed her belongings inside with the care usually reserved for handling fine crystal. The last thing he packed was the delicate blue gown.

  After a light breakfast in his kitchen, he threw the trunk into the carriage and headed the horses in the direction of the harbor. Steering away from the Concord, he drove toward the piers the cargo ships used. There he inquired about destinations and departures. He was in the middle of one of these conversations when his eyes suddenly focused on a sight he had feared for weeks but now welcomed. He walked away from the bewildered man at his side, offering no explanation, and watched the Quinton merchant—Alexis’s ship—glide down the Potomac. He caught a young boy passing by and quickly scribbled off a note. He pointed in the direction of the ship and the boy nodded. After giving him a few coins, Cloud went back to his carriage.

  He took a number of side streets to Davidson’s home to pass the time. When he arrived he was asked to have a seat. He waited, feet propped on the trunk in front of him.

  “You wanted to see me, Mr. Davidson?” he asked when he had been escorted to the study and the door was closed behind him.

  “Yes. Have you brought Captain Danty’s things?”

  Cloud thought Davidson looked as if he hadn’t slept all night. He smiled, thinking of his own restful sleep. “I have them in a trunk in the hallway. I’ll take it up to her, if you haven’t changed your mind about permitting me to visit.”

  Davidson seemed appalled that the captain would think that. “Oh no! You must speak with her. Mr. Madison was extremely disappointed with her refusal to help us.”

  “You’ve talked to him?”

  “First thing this morning. He was most anxious to hear our report and very distressed that we were forced to hold her. He wants you to make her understand.”

  “I intend to,” Cloud said firmly.

  “Good. Then please go to her now. Leave word with the guard as you said you would. I have a meeting this afternoon with Bennet and Dr. Eustis.” He frowned, wringing his hands together. “This war has us all overworked.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  Davidson looked at Cloud curiously, not sure what it was the captain professed to understand. “Ah, of course you do, Captain Cloud. I mean, after all you will be fighting it.”

  Cloud smiled, shaking Davidson’s hand. “I will persuade Captain Danty, Mr. Davidson. She and I will fight this war together.” Still smiling, he left the room.

  “What do you make of it, Captain?” asked Ned Allison.

  Jordan folded the note and slipped it into his pocket, turning to the boy who delivered it. “Who gave this to you?”

  “I don’t know his name, sir. He didn’t say. Just said I was supposed to give it to someone on this ship.” The boy was nervous under the harsh stares of the men. His foot tapped against the deck and his eyes darted toward the wharf.

  “Well, what did he look like?”

  The boy shrugged his shoulders. “He was tall. Well dressed. A uniform, I don’t know nothin’ about rank. He wasn’t husky like you, but you could tell he was strong. Oh yeah, he’s got hair about the color of this.” He held up one of the coins Cloud had given him, the color of copper. “That’s all I remember.”

  Jordan smiled grimly. “You remembered enough, lad. Go on. Get out of here.” He waited until the boy made his hasty retreat then he looked at Ned and Peters. “We’ll do what the note says. It had to have been written by Cloud. He’s got until four o’clock. Otherwise we’re going to tear down this town brick by brick until we find her.”

  Peters nodded. “And we’ll use the rubble to bury the bastard.”

  It took Alexis several minutes after waking to remember where she was and why she was there. Sitting up in bed, she glanced around the room, seeing things she had been unaware of when she first entered.

  A beautifully crafted chest of drawers stood against one wall as elegant as the giant four-poster bed on which she sat. On the commode by the bed was a washbasin filled with fresh water. Clean linens were placed neatly beside it. A pale green robe lay over the back of a chair. She sighed at this fresh attempt to win her over.

  It occurred to Alexis that in this room she could easily think of herself as a guest, but a knock at the door and the guard’s voice announcing breakfast destroyed the notion.

  “Good morning, miss,” the guard said uncomfortably, as he brought in a tray of steaming eggs and ham. Alexis chose not to respond to his greeting.

  She thanked him as he left the tray on the table by her bed. When he left she found she had little appetite, and she left most of her meal untouched.

  She washed and put on the robe she supposed must belong to Davidson’s
wife or perhaps a mistress. The room seemed stiflingly hot. As she threw open the window, she saw two guards look up in her direction. It was then that the hopelessness she had experienced the night before washed over her again, but she managed to shake it off as she stepped away from the window. She must never again allow that feeling to overtake her in such immense proportions. How had she let it happen last night? she wondered. Why had she accepted their judgment and treatment of her? She picked up a delicate crystal vase from the mantel of the fireplace and in one violent motion of her arm she hurled it to the floor. Her body trembled as it shook off the last of her feelings of defeat. She was flushed and her eyes were glowing when the guard burst into the room.

  “What did you do?” he demanded. His eyes went first to the splinters of glass at her bare feet and slowly traveled upward over her body. He saw the faint quivering of her flesh as a movement in the pale green robe. One arm hung at her side while the other was still caught in the uncompleted motion of her throw. Slowly the arm continued downward until it also rested at her side. Her face held no expression except for the kind of fulfillment he thought it was only decent to show in bed. Her lips were parted slightly and her eyes were bright in a way that would have said thank you to a lover.

  She bent to pick up the glass. “I knocked this off the mantel,” she explained. “I am sorry if I disturbed you. Please tell Mr. Davidson I will be happy to replace it for him.”

  “Aye, sure. And how are you going to do that when you’re in prison?”

  She lifted her head a moment to look at him and then dropped it just as quickly to hide her smile. “You’re right. I forgot where I was and where I’ll be going. No matter. I’ll find a way to replace it.”

  He muttered something under his breath and went back to his post, making more noise than necessary with the key in the door.

  After Alexis picked up the broken glass, she sat in a chair facing the door and waited. She waited to see the one person who could match every emotion coursing through her blood and understand the reason for it. She waited with the same sense of anticipation that had driven Cloud all morning, knowing only that he would come and that the pleasure of seeing him again would be as intense an experience as being joined with him in her bed.

  Suddenly she heard Cloud’s voice in the hallway. The tension she felt at the sound of his voice, rich and deep, pushed her out of her chair as if she had been a tightly coiled spring and his voice had released her. Then he was there before her, silently closing the door behind him.

  There was something in his face she could not identify.

  “Cloud—” She stopped. He was shaking his head slowly.

  He stepped toward her, not touching her yet, but knowing it was what they both wanted and putting it off a moment longer. “I know,” he said. “I knew it the instant I walked into this room. I knew it last night when you were so sure everything was lost, when you couldn’t face me, when you could barely walk out of the room. I knew I would come to you this morning and find you ready to fight.”

  His arms went around her and hers went to his neck. Their lips met violently, fiercely, no longer denying the fullness of their passion. His hand found the belt of her robe. He released it and slid his hands inside, his fingers brushing against the softness of her naked flesh, then gripping it harshly, pulling her closer, making her gasp. She felt his tongue in her mouth, exploring, tasting, then retreating only to return more hungrily than before. When his mouth left hers to kiss her eyes, cheeks, hair, she breathed deeply for air, drawing in fully as she would if she had just surfaced from a powerful wave swell. She heard his light laugh, clearly taunting, against her throat as his teeth caught the silver necklace and the skin around it, biting it gently, then bruising her with the force of his kiss. Her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt and fumbled at undoing them. He stopped her by grasping her wrists. She dropped her hands to her sides when he released her. His hands went to the collar of her robe, brushing aside the material from her shoulders.

  He stepped back to watch the pale green wrapper float without further assistance down the length of her arms, separating at her breasts, sliding past her slender hips, and caressing her thighs and calves. It fell to the floor with a sigh and he thought it was the same sigh he had wanted to hold—had held for a time. Her body was trembling but she made no move to hide it from him, knowing he wanted to see her tremble at the power he held over her. He walked around her slowly, touching every part of her with his eyes, memorizing the texture of her flesh, caressing every curve, every hollow.

  “All day,” he said, standing behind her. She glanced at him over her shoulder, but he turned her head, making her face the bed. “No, don’t move. I don’t want you to move except for the movements you can’t stop.” He saw her shudder as a rippling in her golden hair which hung in a solid glistening fall against her back. His chuckle was low, throaty. “All day this is what I was seeing, feeling, wanting. You. Everything I did today, will do later, was for this time when I could look at you again and see you tremble. Tremble as you never would in front of them last night. As you never would in front of any man but me. It is the only mastery I ever wanted over you because it means having all of you. All of you, to do anything I want to, knowing that you’ll let me because you can’t stop me, can’t escape me. Do you know that it’s true?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was small, choked. “Yes, I know it’s true.”

  His hand pressed into the small of her back and he twisted her around. “And while you were waiting, it was the same for you. You knew I would come, that I could not stay away. You were waiting to tell me you hadn’t been defeated by them, but wanting to be defeated by me. Wanting to be taken by the one person who can stop you from getting away. Wanting him almost as much as you want to get away.”

  “Yes. I want you. I want you.”

  His lips found hers again, crushing them in capture. His hands stroked her breasts, her flesh quivered beneath his touch. He carried her to the bed and took off his clothes slowly, enjoying the way she watched him undress.

  He lay beside her, his head propped on one elbow while his other hand casually touched the skin of her throat, her breasts, her flat stomach, and finally her thighs. Her amber eyes, slightly hooded beneath thick lashes, pleaded with him to go on, and he kissed them gently as her legs parted against the pressure of his fingers. His mouth moved to her breasts and he felt her hands go to his head, curl in his hair, holding him there as she pushed herself against him.

  “Please, Cloud!” This time she heard his laugh, muffled against her thighs, and responded to him, conquered by his will, her thighs opening further to the touch of his lips.

  Her hands reached for his head again but stopped in midair and fell against the bed, gripping the sheets, clutching them as if they offered her support as his tongue brought her closer and closer to release. Looking up, he saw her fingers clenching the fabric. He lifted himself above her and her legs wrapped around him as he entered her with hard thrusts. She matched his passion, holding him tightly within her, liking the warmth and strength of his mastery.

  Her body convulsed and sobbed as he gave one final thrust and shuddered against her. He held her close as waves of intense pleasure flooded her limbs, making them tremble even in relaxation. She rested her flushed face in the crook of his shoulder until he turned it up to kiss her still parted lips.

  “Alex,” he said when she rested her head on his chest beneath his chin. “You do want your liberty more than you want me, don’t you?”

  “Why do you ask it that way, Cloud? You make it sound as if I can’t have both.” She lifted her head to look in his eyes, and the thing she’d seen before, when he had first entered her room, was still there. She frowned because she still could not identify its meaning.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “It’s you. Something different. Has something happened since last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me?”

 
“I can, but I won’t. Not yet. You’ll understand soon enough.” He placed her head on his chest again and said, “You did not answer my question.”

  “About my freedom?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand you. Don’t you realize that only by being free to do the things I have to do can I be yours? I want to be yours. I want you until you want me no longer and even then I’ll go to no one else. How could I, after knowing you? But Cloud, my liberty is dearer than even you. I cannot exchange one for the other. I want both. You wouldn’t want me, would you, if I couldn’t finish the promise I made to myself? It would always come between us. Being free means I can do it and that means I can come to you with nothing held back. I thought you knew that. I thought you knew it when you let me go the first time, on the Hamilton.” She heard his sharp intake of breath and she laughed. “You didn’t think I knew, did you? I did. It was then I knew you truly loved me. Loved me enough to let me go, even though you thought I might never seek you out again.” Her hand stroked his side and she pressed her lips to his chest. “I would have come back to you freely and begged you to make me your prisoner. I would have begged you to have me for always in the manner you just did. I would have shown you the scars on my back and Travers’s blood on my sword as proof of my devotion to things I believe in and things I must have.” She moved her leg against his, flesh against flesh, his strength against her own. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I understand,” he said quietly. “I do love you. Remember that. Remember it when you come back with Travers’s blood on your sword and I’m not here.”

  Startled by his last words she pulled away from him and looked at his face. He was smiling but the sadness she saw in him crushed her chest as if invisible hands were pressing against her, forcing air from her lungs.

  “Why wouldn’t you be here?” It was an anguished whisper. “Where would you be? Don’t talk like that, Cloud!”