Chapter Thirty
Jacqueline was having another match with Andrássy on the main deck this morning. Judith was watching them from the quarterdeck. It was such a warm spring day her aunt and sister had come out to join her, standing on either side of her.
“How’s Nettie’s cold, any better yet?” Georgina asked Judith.
“Her sniffles are abating, but she had a fever last night, so at least she’s agreed to stay abed now. Catherine offered to finish my last gown in Nettie’s room to keep her company, and I’ll be sitting with her this afternoon.”
“Not too close,” Katey warned. “Can’t have you catching a cold, too, when you’ll probably be at your first ball before week’s end.”
Then Georgina remarked casually, “I haven’t seen your young man since he thrust you into the cabin the day of the storm.”
Neither had Judith, at least not enough to suit her. And she’d thought she had come up with the perfect plan to make sure she did see him every day for the remainder of the trip. The milk she’d asked him to deliver for the kitten. But twice now she’d returned to her cabin to find fresh milk already there, and Nettie wasn’t the one bringing it. Once Nettie answered the door and took the bowl from him, then promptly closed it again with a mere “Thank ye, laddie.” Just one time was Judith actually alone in the cabin when he showed up, yesterday, their twelfth day at sea.
She’d just changed into her ship’s togs, which she was resigned to wearing for a few days until Nettie recovered, when Nathan had knocked on the door. He’d handed the bowl of milk to Judith and brushed past her to enter the cabin without a by-your-leave. Without even making sure first she was alone! And he went straight to the kitten.
Picking it up and setting it in his palm, which it fit in with room to spare, his hand was so big, he’d asked, “What did you name it?”
“I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I couldn’t tell what it is. Do you know?”
“Never bothered to check. I was just calling it Puss.”
“And I’ve just been calling it Kitten.”
He flipped the kitten over to examine it, then laughed. “I can’t tell either. Something neutral then for a name?”
“Such as?”
“Furball? By the looks of it, it’s going to have longer hair than normal.”
She shook her head. “I’d take exception to that name if I were a female kitten.”
He glanced at her, but if he’d been about to say something, he didn’t. He seemed to be caught by her eyes instead. It was a long moment before he said, “You have incredible eyes,” then spoiled the compliment by adding, “It’s too bad your father has them, too.”
She grinned. “Are you going to tell me I remind you of my father?”
“No, he reminds me of you.”
“You’ve had more words with him?”
“Just nasty looks. But I’m not fueling that fire by being seen with you again.”
Having said that, he left before she could think of a reason to extend the visit. She went to the door to call after him, “What about Silver for a name?”
“That’ll do,” he replied without looking back.
So frustrating, and the trip was almost over. Three to five more days depending on the winds, she’d been told last night at dinner. She had the feeling once they docked, she’d never see Nathan again. Yet she still wasn’t completely certain that he wasn’t a criminal. Well, obviously she was leaning toward not, or she would never have formed this tentative bond of friendship with him.
She could trust him to protect her if she needed protecting. That said a lot. She could trust him not to endanger her family anymore—if he’d been doing that. Yes, they had become friends—of a sort. And he probably knew by now that she wouldn’t turn him in if he did admit he was a smuggler. But was he really going to go back to that career if he did get his ship back? When he had two young nieces depending on him? She should ask him that at least—if she was ever alone with him again.
Georgina, still waiting for a reply to her remark, added, “Would you like me to invite him to dinner?”
“Good God, no—and he’s not my young man.”
“Really? I got quite a different impression the day you spoke of him, that you were forming an attachment.”
“No, I—no.”
“Haven’t made up your mind?”
“My father doesn’t like him. Putting them in the same room isn’t a good idea.”
“Who are we talking about?” Katey wanted to know.
“Nathan Tremayne,” Georgina answered. “Have you met him yet?”
“Briefly. Boyd is quite looking forward to assisting him. In fact, he intends to desert me as soon as we land and hie off to New London with the chap. What about James?”
Georgina laughed. “Oh, I’ve no doubt he’d love to get involved in that. He’d much prefer to jump into a fight of any sort than attend parties—if the parties weren’t for Jack and Judy. Boyd shouldn’t miss them either.”
“I don’t think he expects to be gone long,” Katey said. “A few days at the most.”
Listening to them, Judith realized that what Nathan had told her about chasing down his ship had to be true. Why make up a tale like that and enlist others’ aid if it wasn’t? In fact, most everything he’d said about himself was probably true. But had he ever clearly stated that he wasn’t a smuggler? No, she didn’t recall his being clear about it one way or the other, just evasive.
Later that night, she checked on Nettie once more before she retired, but the old girl was fast asleep so she didn’t disturb her. Entering her own cabin a few minutes later, already pulling off the ribbon that held back her hair, she was halfway across the room before she noticed she wasn’t alone and came to an abrupt halt. Nathan was there, slouched down in the reading chair, his head slightly tilted, a lock of hair over one eye, his hands folded across his belly, fingers entwined. He was sleeping! And the kitten was smack in the middle of his chest, stretched in a classic upright pose, legs bent, head up, eyes closed. She could hear it purring from across the room.
Incredulous, she sat on the edge of her bed and just stared at them, so much feeling suddenly welling up in her that tears nearly came to her eyes. The two of them made such a heartwarming picture, sharing contentment, love, and trust. The kitten had obviously made its choice about which human it wanted. She was going to have to give it back to Nathan, perhaps when he was done with his business in America. She knew where in England she could find him to do so. So perhaps this trip wouldn’t be the last she ever saw of him. She found that thought more than comforting.
She was loath to disturb them and didn’t do so immediately. The light next to Nathan wasn’t bright. It merely gave the cabin a soft glow, but it allowed for a thorough scrutiny. It was breathtaking how handsome he was. She’d been entranced by his appearance even when she’d thought him a ghost. But as a flesh-and-blood man he could stir her in uncounted ways. Sleeping, he looked endearingly boyish. Awake, he was fascinating in just how masculine he was in size and strength. He was roguish, for sure. Outrageous, too. Yet, if he did ever behave in a gentlemanly manner, she’d probably tell him to stop it. Had she really gotten so accustomed to him with all his rough edges?
With a sigh, she finally approached and carefully picked up the kitten and set it down by the milk Nathan had brought tonight. Then she gently nudged his shoulder and moved back, in case he lashed out when he was awakened, as some men did. But his eyes opened gradually, looked at his chest first, where the kitten had been, then landed on her and opened wider.
He sat forward and stretched before he said somewhat abashed, “Sorry. I thought I’d be out of here long before you finished your dinner.”
“The purring probably lulled you to sleep. It is such a pleasant sound. So you’re still avoiding me?”
“When I have to fight myself tooth and nail to keep my hands off you, I thought it best.”
Trust him to say something designed to make her blush. True or not, he grinned when the blush arrived, causing her to point out, “That’s hardly adhering to our Bargain.”
He raised a brow. “I’d think you’d be out of questions by now.”
“Not quite. For instance, having told me you’re responsible for two little girls who have only you to depend on, are you going to give up smuggling for them?”
“You still haven’t let go of that notion?” he said, clearly exasperated. “If I ever was a criminal, I’m not one now. I’m going to retrieve my ship or die trying. What I do with her afterwards I haven’t decided. But I promise you there’s no noose waiting for me in England or anywhere else.”
“I believe you.”
He was suddenly looking at her in a completely different way. He stood up, cupped her cheeks in his large hands. “Do you really?”
“Yes.”
He took her by surprise, hugging her. In relief? Possibly. But when she looked up at him, something else entered his expression. What happened next seemed a natural explosion of the senses. He didn’t just kiss her, he brought her up to his mouth, lifting her off the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist to keep her there, pulling her so tightly to him she felt engulfed by his masculinity. And thrilled beyond measure. She’d been wanting this more than she realized, wanting to feel him like this, to embrace his passion and revel in it.
She wrapped one arm around his neck and slid her other hand up through his hair, gripping a handful as she returned his kiss with a fervency she scarcely recognized in herself. She didn’t even realize he’d walked them to the bed until he laid her down on it. But she held on tight, dragging him down with her, unwilling to let him go for even a moment. Feeling him hard between her legs was so unexpected that a groan of desire escaped her. He moved off her so quickly, she might as well have burned him.
He was halfway off the bed when she realized he was leaving her and said, “Don’t go.”
She didn’t want the kissing to end. He must have thought she meant something else because he glanced back at her with such yearning, and at that moment she realized she did. She smiled slightly. He made a sound as if he were in pain as he gave in.
He came back and straddled her hips so he could easily remove her shirt. It still wasn’t easy. The chemise that followed was. Then came the blush and the moment of indecision. He was watching her, his eyes locked to hers as his hands began to explore what he’d uncovered. She was mesmerized by the desire she saw, then by what she felt, so tender at first, then the kneading, fanning the fire, then the flick of his finger against her nipple that sent shocks clear to her core. She wanted, needed to touch him, too, but all she could reach was his thighs, spread apart, one on each side of her.
She caressed them while he literally tore out of his shirt. She heard the rips and almost laughed. He moved off the bed to step out of his pants, but was back in a moment, at her side now, much better. She could reach his shoulders, his neck, his hair. It felt like silk against her chest when he leaned down to fill his mouth with her breast. She gasped at the heat that rushed through her body. Oh, God, the swirl of his tongue against her nipple before he sucked hard drew gasps from her, evoked another groan. He didn’t pull away this time. Now, he seemed to know the sounds she was making were expressions of pleasure, not a plea to desist.
He was taking his time now, caressing her breasts and stomach, her neck and arms, as he kissed her, wanting to know every part of her that he could. Her shoes and britches came off so gradually she barely noticed because far too many other sensations were surprising and delighting her. Riddled with calluses, his hands weren’t soft. But his lips were. They felt like molten velvet as they moved over her body. But the two opposite sensations—one excitingly rough and the other seductively soft—had such an amazing effect, arousing her and soothing her by turns, fanning her passion even hotter.
He rolled over to his back, taking her with him and placing her on top of him. She liked the position she was in with her knees resting on either side of him because it gave her better access to his wide chest, where she could feel the muscles ripple beneath her fingertips. She was delighted to discover that his nipples were just as sensitive as hers. But he didn’t let her stay there for long. He flipped her onto her back again. He bent one of her legs at the knee and she did the same with the other as he slid his chest up hers for a deep, penetrating kiss that seemed to draw moans from her soul.
His voice was raspy as he said, “You can’t imagine how often I’ve thought of this, nigh every bleedin’ minute, but nothing in my wildest dreams could have prepared me for what you make me feel. Do you feel it?”
With his mouth hot on her neck again, sending involuntary tremors throughout her body, she could barely think much less answer. But she gasped out, “What I feel is—akin to joy—”
He leaned up with a grin. “Really?”
“And so much frustration I just want to choke you!”
“You know why you have that urge?”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
“Then have at me, darlin’. Or better yet . . .”
His idea of “better” was to entwine his fingers with hers and kiss her hard just before he entered her. This is what she’d been dying for. If she cried out, it was lost in his kiss, but she didn’t think she did. Their joining was too smooth, too quickly done, and far too welcome. And with that thick heat filling her, she didn’t move, just wanted to savor how deeply satisfying it felt. He accommodated her, holding himself perfectly still except for his mouth moving over hers. All he was doing now was kissing her deeply but tenderly.
So sweet of him to do that, but she’d had her moment to relish him and now every nerve in her body was clamoring for more. Her muscles flexed around him. He began to move, thrusting slowly into her at first, but she gave him every clue that that wasn’t enough. Her grip on his shoulders tightened as she moved with him now, wildly as if she were being pushed toward some unknown precipice. But when it arrived, that indescribable burst of ecstasy, washing over her in waves, throbbing in her heart and loins, she merely held on tightly and rode out the storm until it vanquished him as completely as it did her.
His breathing rasped by her ear, his face dropped to the mattress over her shoulder. He was still trembling. Feeling it brought a smile to her lips. But when he finally rose up, he moved up toward the head of the bed, drawing her with him. With all that cavorting across the mattress, they hadn’t been anywhere near the pillows until now.
With his arm around her and her cheek resting on the side of his chest, he assured her, “I’ll go before dawn. Let me just hold you for a while.”
In answer, she put her leg over his. She didn’t want to talk. She’d never felt so deeply satisfied and—happy. Yes, happy. That was the glow she was basking in.
So she was almost asleep when she heard him say, “I’m never going to forget you. I want you to at least know that.”
Beautifully said, but it sounded like a good-bye. It probably was. She knew these were stolen moments. But he didn’t know she now had every intention of seeing him again when this trip was over.