Devil of the High Seas, page 11
She moaned against his lips and her hand curled around his neck, and she kissed him back. His soul burst from his chest and seemed to soar above him until he grew almost dizzy with the delightful feel of it.
The ship pitched and rolled through a wave, causing them both to stumble. He caught hold of her by the waist, pulling her against his body as he braced himself against the wall of her cabin. They gazed at each other a long moment, their bodies pressed together.
“Oh dear,” Vesper said, her eyes luminous.
“Bloody hell,” he echoed in grim agreement.
CHAPTER 8
Josephine jolted awake to the sounds of men shouting. She blinked away the sleep from her eyes and peered over the edge of the lookout platform on the topmast. She expected to see Gavin having the Cornish Pixie’s crew scour the ship for her, but what she saw instead filled her with dread. A naval frigate floated about two hundred yards to the port side of the Pixie, and a crew in a small boat was rowing toward them.
She squinted at the boat and thought she glimpsed at least one officer in uniform aboard. On the Pixie’s decks, the crew stood at attention while Gavin and Ronnie leaned over the railing facing the frigate, watching the progress of the boat coming toward them.
Josephine had to act quickly. She started to move but found a rope had been tied around her chest, tethering her safely to the lookout spot. Had old Bartholomew come up here and secured her to the crossbeams? He must have, the old dear. She made a mental reminder to thank him later. She abandoned her hiding spot from the lookout post on the topmast and hastily descended the rigging. She could hear the voices of the navy men growing louder as they climbed aboard.
Someone hissed, and Josephine glanced around. The older sailor stood at the back of the Pixie’s assembled crew and pointed to a spot beside him.
“Come here,” the man whispered.
Understanding what he was about, she quickly crossed the deck and took her place next to him. She gave him a questioning look when she reached him. The old man looked down, and she followed his gaze to where he was waving a lowbrow brimmed hat at her.
She grabbed the hat he held out and promptly pulled it down on her head. The brim dipped, hiding her face. Though she was wearing her hair tied back in a queue, it was still too long for most men, but hopefully no one would look at her too closely right now.
“Good, lassie,” the old man said. “Now don’t move.”
A British officer stepped over the side of the ship and onto the Pixie. Several other men followed suit, quickly getting into formation as they faced the Pixie’s crew.
“I am First Lieutenant Landers of the HMS Torrington. I wish to speak to the master of this ship.” He was a tall fellow with a white wig and a fairly muscular body. He was clearly a seasoned officer, not a young midshipman.
“I am Gavin Castleton, master of the Cornish Pixie. We welcome you aboard, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, Captain Castleton.” The lieutenant’s cool gaze explored the ship, and Josephine stared down at her feet, praying he wouldn’t look at her.
“Look up a little,” the old sailor said in a harsh whisper. “Or else he’ll suspect something is going on with you.”
Josephine raised her head again, but now she was too afraid to breathe lest that action draw attention to her unbound breasts.
“You don’t mind if we inspect your hold?” the lieutenant inquired of Gavin.
“Not at all. Please look wherever you wish, Lieutenant.”
Gavin kept pace with the naval officer while the lieutenant strode about the deck with his hands clasped behind his back. Gavin casually conversed with the officer, and Josephine occasionally overheard bits of their discussion.
“My apologies. Must do this with every vessel, you understand,” Landers explained.
“Of course,” Gavin replied.
“Pirates about, you know. Trade routes. Have to keep watch . . .” The rest of his words were lost upon the breeze.
Twenty minutes passed in tense silence for Josephine and the crew of the Pixie until the officer and Gavin returned above deck.
“I imagine you are in a hurry to be off, but if you are interested, our captain would be delighted to have you and your wife dine with him.”
Josephine flinched as she heard the word wife. Had Gavin told the man he had a woman on board?
“Er . . .” Gavin hesitated.
“Please accept.. It isn’t often we find company while out at sea and less often that we have female company.” The officer looked so earnest that it would have been poor form to refuse.
“Very well. How soon should we come to you?” Gavin asked.
“The sun will be setting in a few hours, but our captain dines early. Say, a half hour?”
“Thank you.” Gavin shook the lieutenant’s hand and helped the man over the side and down to his waiting boat.
The moment the naval officer was out of sight, the crew let out a breath of relief and returned to their stations. Josephine followed the older sailor across the deck, but Gavin passed by her as he headed in the opposite direction and grasped her arm, swiftly turning her around to escort her belowdecks with him.
“Wait, I can’t move so fast!” she gasped as she stumbled down the gangway behind him. He was taking such long strides that she couldn’t keep up.
Only when they were out of sight from the other ship did he let her go.
“How the devil did you know it was me?”
“I would know the curve of those breasts anywhere,” Gavin cut in. “Lass, we have a dinner with those officers on the Torrington. You must dress quickly and come with me.”
“As your wife?” she added dryly as she removed the floppy old hat she wore.
“Aye, my loving, devoted wife. This is our honeymoon voyage, and we are celebrating my new position as the master of the Cornish Pixie.”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So I shouldn’t mention that you are a pirate who kidnapped me on the eve of my wedding?” She was teasing him, but he didn’t seem to realize that.
He moved to press her against the nearest bulkhead with his body, and he cupped her cheek. Their faces were close and his eyes dark as he gazed at her seriously.
“If you mention pirates, then Ronnie and I are dead men, and the crew would likely end up in prison and possibly hanged.”
“Gavin, I was only teasing,” she said more seriously.
“’Tis not something to joke about, lass. Do I have your word that you will keep silent?”
“Of course,” she promised. “I won’t breathe a word.”
“Good.” He relaxed and smiled at her. “We’ll discuss your punishment for locking me in my cabin later tonight.”
“Punishment?” she fired back, her temper flaring. “You locked me in there first.”
Gavin dismissed the argument. “I think a spanking is what your bottom needs. After that, we’ll see.” He leaned down the last few inches and kissed her. It was raw and wicked. He cupped her buttocks with one hand and gave her a light smack. She jolted and then moaned as a flood of unexpected heat followed in its wake.
He stepped back. “Put on one of the gowns in that chest and I will join you shortly.” He strode away and climbed back up the companionway, and soon she could hear him hollering orders to the men.
With a heavy sigh, she returned to the captain’s cabin and abandoned her sailor’s togs. From the chest, she selected a peach gown with blue underskirts. She managed to tighten her corset up nearly all the way, but cursed because she could not finish the rest without help. As if answering her silent prayer, the door opened. She was actually relieved to see Gavin enter.
“Do you require assistance?” he asked, his eyes skating over her dress.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
He came up behind her, his hands settling lightly on her bare shoulders. His touch burned deliciously on her cool skin.
He chuckled. “I’d much rather remove your gown than help you into it.” His hand slid down her back before he fastened the corset tight, though not too tight, then helped her with her skirts and laced up the back of her gown. She held a palm flat against the embroidered stomacher of the bodice.
“You barely fit this, but it’ll do,” Gavin mused. Neither of them could miss how the snug bodice pressed her breasts up high.
“This gown is my sister-in-law’s. She is shorter than I am and her bosom is smaller, but thankfully not by much.”
“Well, I shall never complain about a larger bosom.” He playfully leered at her before cinching the last two laces up and tying them. He already knew to tuck the strings of the laces beneath her overskirt, and she wondered how many women he had undressed and dressed to be so familiar with such a small but necessary detail.
“Have you helped many women into and out of gowns?” Josephine asked.
“A few, though not as many as you imagine. I’m not a wenching man. At least, not according to my quartermaster.”
“A wenching man?” Josephine wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be insulted.
“Never you mind about wenches, lass.” Gavin pinched her bottom. “You are the only woman I’ll be wenching anytime soon. Now hurry up and fix your hair.”
He turned his attention to Dominic’s sea chest, removing a fine pair of dark-buff breeches and a blue brocade frock coat. She borrowed Roberta’s mother-of-pearl comb to tidy the wavy mane of her hair while Gavin changed his clothes. She peeped at him a few times from the corner of her eye as he changed. There was something intimate about being in the same room with a man as he dressed. Something a true husband and wife might do.
“How did I become your wife?” she asked, wondering how the rumor on the ship had gotten started.
“Oh . . . Yes, I suppose we shall need some kind of story for the officers, won’t we?”
“Yes, I will need a story about how we met, but also why does the crew think I’m your wife?”
He pulled on the frock coat. The rich blue brocade accented the lighter tones in his brown hair, which he pulled into a queue and tied with a ribbon. In that moment, she saw how clearly he and Griffin were identical twins. He could have passed for Griffin to someone who didn’t know either man closely.
“Ronnie told the crew you were my wife. Apparently, there was some concern and the usual superstitions among the crew about women on ships, so he reassured them you were a gentleborn lady and that we were married. Few crews want a lothario as their captain. It shows a lack of discipline, and they need to trust a man who can control himself.”
“Really? I thought pirates liked—”
“These men aren’t pirates, Josephine. Your brother hired a crew of honest men. Still, even pirates have rules about women on board. It can be a cause for trouble to have females on ships. If there are too many men and only one woman . . . it leads to fights. And a ship on long or dangerous voyages cannot support having a dozen women on board to service the men’s needs.”
Gavin’s brutal honesty about the use of women on ships filled Josephine’s head with a faint buzzing sound and a ringing in her ears. Did he see women that way too? As objects to be used?
“You’ve nothing to fear, Josie. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He placed a palm on her arm.
“That’s not what concerns me. It’s the idea of women being used for a singular purpose—to serve a man’s pleasure—and being seen as nothing more. We are not puppets to use and discard. We have lives, we have souls and hearts . . . we aren’t things.”
Gavin’s face tightened. “I agree with you. It happens, even though it shouldn’t. Change is always slow in coming because change means conflict, and most so-called civilized nations try to avoid conflict, even if it means allowing bad behavior to continue unchallenged.” He brushed his fingers along her jaw, his eyes soft and so full of compassion for a man who lived outside the bounds of the law. “Now, come along and let’s pull the wool over these navy men’s eyes.”
Josephine followed him back up on deck, and with the aid of some sailors she was assisted over the side and down the ladder into a waiting boat. They were rowed a short distance to the looming frigate. Its bulky mass made her brother’s ship look much like the fae creature of folklore it was named after. Still, she guessed if it came to a sprint on the open water, the Pixie could outrun the frigate if she needed to. But in a broadside battle, the Torrington would surely blow the smaller ship out of the water.
When she climbed aboard the Torrington, she was met by a line of officers ranging from very young midshipmen up to the captain, who was a fit but stocky man in his late forties. The captain bowed deeply as Gavin and Josephine stopped in front of him.
“My lady, please forgive me. I often forget the difficulties of having women transferred between ships. I admit, however, that I am delighted to have you for dinner this evening.”
Josephine had never been a woman who craved the attentions of men, and having dozens of male eyes examining her bosom was unwelcome. She reminded herself she was the daughter of an earl and that this charade would save Gavin’s life.
“Thank you so much, Captain. It will be a treat to dine with such handsome officers of His Majesty’s navy.”
The officers nearest them, most of them close to Josephine’s age, turned ruddy at the compliment.
“I am Captain James Anderson.”
“I am Gavin Castleton, master of the Cornish Pixie. I’m delighted to introduce my wife, Josephine, to you.”
The captain claimed Josephine’s hand and pressed a courtly kiss to the back of her fingers. Then he took her arm in his and escorted her to the captain’s cabin, where a lavish feast had been laid out. He helped her into a chair, and only then did he and the other men take their seats.
“Would you care for a glass of Madeira?” the captain inquired of her.
“Yes, thank you.” She accepted the glass but noted Gavin’s polite refusal, using the excuse that he would be on duty that evening.
“Mrs. Castleton, I take it this is a honeymoon journey for you?” the third lieutenant inquired. He was a lad of no more than twenty or twenty-one, with a bashful demeanor.
“Yes, we’ve only been married about a week,” she lied smoothly, and any heat in her face that might slip through would fit with the charade of a shy new bride.
Gavin tensed beside her, but she doubted anyone at the table was aware of it. For the moment, all eyes were on her.
“How do you like the sea?” Captain Anderson asked as everyone began to dine on a course of fresh fish.
“It’s quite lovely,” she replied.
Attention now turned to Gavin. “And where are you bound, Captain Castleton?” Captain Anderson asked.
“The West Indies,” Gavin replied with a companionable smile. “My brother-in-law owns this vessel, and we are to sail to his estate holdings there.”
“And who is your brother-in-law? I might know him,” the captain inquired. Josephine realized too late that this was no simple dinner. It was an interrogation.
“The Earl of Camden’s son.” Gavin placed his hand on Josephine’s knee underneath the table as if he sensed her rising tension. She drew in a deeper breath, trying to remain calm.
One of the lieutenants looked surprised. “Wasn’t that the fellow who—” Captain Anderson shot the man a sharp look, and he quickly silenced himself.
“My brother was recently pardoned by the king.” Josephine knew what those men were thinking. The story of her brother’s rescue from the noose and the royal pardon their father had secured to save him had been spread far and wide.
“Yes,” the captain said slowly. “The pirate.”
“Former pirate,” Josephine emphasized, and then she curled her arm around Gavin’s in a display of what she hoped looked like wifely affection. “My husband only agreed to captain his current vessel when he had assurances from the necessary authorities that our voyage would be quite legal. My husband follows the law to the letter.”
“I don’t hold with piracy,” Gavin agreed solemnly. “Rotten business. One cannot run an empire and conduct trade with those rebels roving the seas.” He spoke with contempt so convincingly that Josephine would have believed him and his hatred for pirates had she not known better.
She attempted to change the subject. “Captain, have you been to the West Indies?”
“Oh yes, many times.” The captain smiled at her almost dotingly, as though she were a child.
Josephine pressed her advantage. “I should like to spend time with my husband there before we make the voyage back to England. Would you recommend any places that would be suitable for us to visit?”
“I wish I could advise on that, but I urge caution instead. The Spanish are still giving us trouble, and it would be best to remain in English-controlled regions while you are in the islands.”
“Oh, I see.” Josephine pretended to be disappointed, but she did not fear the Spanish. She was half Spanish, after all. She doubted Gavin was afraid of them either.
As the meal concluded, Josephine managed to navigate the conversation into safer waters. Whenever the officers would bring up pirates or illegal activities, she would ask a silly question of the sort men would expect a woman who knew nothing about life at sea to ask.
“Well, thank you so much, Captain Anderson. We thoroughly enjoyed your company this evening, but I must return to my ship. We have a schedule to meet, and the winds are a fickle mistress.”
Gavin’s hand was back on Josephine’s knee under the table, and he gave her what felt like a congratulatory squeeze.
“It was our pleasure.” Captain Anderson and his officers stood the moment Josephine rose from her chair, and the captain once more claimed her hand with a kiss. “I imagine your husband will enjoy his honeymoon with you. You are the most delightful company.”
Josephine blushed at the man’s implications, which added to her delicate feminine façade.
“I certainly will.” Gavin winked at her and then escorted her from the cabin before she could figure out how to respond to the captain’s compliment.
