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- Judith E. French
By Love Alone Page 6
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Sounds of running feet and creaking ropes startled Kate out of a half doze. The ship was moving. She swallowed hard. Somehow, even until the last moment, she had believed that Geoffrey would come swinging aboard, an army of Storm retainers at his back, to rescue her. America, the Maryland colony... they were at the other end of the world. How would he find her? "Damn it! Damn it! He can't... I know he can't!" She would have to find him. She'd gotten herself into this and she'd have to get herself out. Somehow, someway, she'd win her freedom and return to England and Queen's Gift and find Geoffrey.
He'd been hurt in the fight, maybe worse than she'd realized. Then, by the time his wound had healed, it was too late to help her. That's why he hadn't been at the trial. If she knew her hotheaded brother, he'd be spitting fire by now. He was capable of doing anything when his fury was aroused.
Kate flung herself back on the bunk. Like a child, she'd been expecting a fairy-tale rescue. She'd show Geoffrey. She was as much a Storm as her father, as any of the rest. It made her no less that she was a woman. Her inner resolve stiffened. "I'll do it myself, I swear," she whispered. "I swear."
Kate sat bolt upright as footsteps stopped outside her door and a key rattled in the lock. The door opened wide and she stared into the smug face of Pride Ashton.
"Greetings, bonnie Kate. I hope you're a good sailor. I'd hate to share a cabin for months with a seasick wench."
"You bastard."
He threw back his head and roared. "Didn't I tell you she was a game one?" Pride stepped aside as two men carried an iron-bound trunk into the room. "You can bring the rest down later. The lady and I will have words now in private." The men withdrew and Pride entered the cabin, closing the door behind him. "Well, you could look happy to see me."
"I'd sooner look into the face of hell."
"Don't be bitter. I've saved your scalp and the sooner you realize it, the better for both of us." He folded his arms and leaned arrogantly against the door.
Kate jumped up. "And what makes you think I'm any more willing to be your doxy here than I was in Newgate?" Her hand ached to smack his grinning face. "You'd have done better to let them hang me. I'll be no man's slave, sexual or otherwise."Pride lowered his arms and the grin vanished. "I've no wish to have you as a slave, Kate. I want you, hell, yes. I'd be a liar if I said otherwise. But I want you willing. There's little joy to be had in a whore."
"And none at all to be had from me. Send me back with the others. I won't stay here."
"You don't know what it's like down there. It's not safe, and certainly no place for a lady, not even your breed of lady. You'll find me better company than the rats." She tried to duck past him to reach the door handle and he caught her wrist. "Stop that. Don't be a fool, Kate. Where would you go if you get out? You can't walk around a ship like this without protection. If you're afraid of rape, have sense enough to be afraid of it beyond that door."
"Rape is rape." She pulled free of him, trying to deny the inner trembling his touch had precipitated.
"No, Katy. It's not and you know it," he said hoarsely. "I'll not see you handed from man to man in the fo'c'sle and then dumped overboard to the sharks when you're used up." He pulled her tightly into his arms. "Now listen to me, damn it. There'll be no rape from me." She turned her face away and struggled to escape. "Stop that wriggling against me or you'll make a liar of me yet." He kissed the soft tendrils of hair that escaped her crown of braids. "I'm your friend, Kate, whether you believe it or not. And I'd like to be more." He caught her chin in his callused hand and gently tipped her face up to meet his penetrating gaze.
His eyes were black, blacker than any human eyes could be. Unconsciously, Kate found herself drawn into the bottomless depths of those obsidian pools... down... down.
Suddenly, she became aware of his mouth on hers. What began as a tender exploring kiss grew into a ruthless assault, an assault all the more deadly because it held no violence. She was defeated not by his strength but by her own weakness, as her defenses were swept away in a tide of swirling emotions. Her arms encircled his neck, pulling him down to meet her own growing passion. Her body strained against his, reveling in the hard masculine strength of him, in the iron thighs, the broad chest... in the whispered, honeyed words of love.
With an anguished cry, Kate wrenched away. He made no effort to hold her and she backed as far as the tiny cabin would allow. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she raised a trembling hand to her bruised lips.
"Can you still deny you care for me?"
"Yes! No." Kate turned away, pressing her face against the damp wall. "You're a devil, Pride Ashton," she whispered.
"You're not the first to say so."
"But why?" She turned to face him, keeping the small chair between them, ashamed of the body that betrayed her. "Why me?"
"Damned if I know." He laughed. "You've been nothing but trouble since I first laid eyes on you." The dark eyes twinkled with mischief. "You're too skinny, too. The Shawnee in me prefers a woman with more meat on her bones."
"Then go below decks and pick out someone more to your liking! Or have I been bought and paid for?" The anger rose within her, blocking the soft weakness. She welcomed it, forcing her voice to a shrew's whiplash.
"In a manner of speaking. What I paid for was the service of a servant for the voyage, a private financial matter between the ship's master and myself. Your indenture will be auctioned off in Annapolis with the rest. There's nothing I can do about that, believe me. It's King George's law and not subject to bribery."
"You paid for my services? And what of my reputation—an unmarried man and woman to share a cabin? What will the crew think? The other bondwomen?"
Pride shook his head in exasperation and ran a hand through his thick black hair. "Can't you get it through that stubborn brain? Lady Kathryn Storm is dead! She may as well have swung at Tyburn! You are a convicted criminal, a bond servant. You have no reputation!"
"And you, sir, have no honor!"
The barb struck home and he flinched. "Your tongue, wench, is too sharp. You speak of what you know little." A flush burned his cheeks as he put his hand on the door. "I'll leave you to cool your ill temper." How could he explain to her that he meant her to be a servant and nothing more, that he'd put down good coin just to save her from dishonor? The words stuck in his throat. She'd not believe them anyway. "My men will be coming with my luggage. You may unpack and stow what there is room for. The chest you are not to touch. There are some things in the baggage for you too."
"And am I to provide your gentlemen with services also?"
The black eyes hardened. "No, m'lady, that pleasure is mine alone."
Kate threw an oath at his departing back. She'd be no whore, not for him, not for any man. She'd die first. "You may unpack," she mocked his voice. Pride Ashton would rue the day he crossed paths with her.
Chapter 5
There was a loud rapping at the cabin door. "Jonas, ma'am, wi' the baggage." The colonial accent was so heavy Kate could barely understand him. "Make yerself decent, we're comin' in." A short wait and then the door was unlocked.
It was the same two servants who had carried in the iron-bound trunk for Ashton. They were much alike, broad and sandy-haired, with thick muscular arms and necks and washed-out blue eyes. Both seemed to have had their noses broken repeatedly. They looked more like dock workers than honest retainers.
The first man touched his forelock. "Jonas Bennet, ma'am. An' me brother Bill. He don't talk much to females." Bill's ruddy face flushed, and he nodded respectfully as they brought in the luggage.
"Two will slide under the bottom bunk, the other we'll have to put against this wall. Not much room to spare in these cabins, is there? Pride said—"
Kate stiffened. "If you're referring to Lord Ashton, you'd best show more respect to your master."
Bill guffawed. He elbowed his brother and howled with glee.
Jonas swallowed a chuckle and tried to keep a straight face. "You got a lot to learn '
bout the colonies, ma'am, and Maryland fer sure," he drawled. "Me an' Bill, we work fer Pride. He's a good man an' our friend. But you can't rightly say master. Me an' Bill, we ain't got no master."
"Master," Bill echoed. "That's a good'n." He pulled the battered cap back on his head. "Not since we cut loose from our pa."
"He said to tell ya, he was takin' supper wi' the captain. I'll fetch ya somethin' from the galley myself." The amusement was plain on his broad face.
"You needn't bother."
"Now, don't be like that, miss. You got nothin' to fear from me an' Bill. We wouldn't mess with Pride's woman. Just struck us funny what you said. Comin' from London ya couldn't expect to know no better. Just not used to hearing Pride called Lord Ashton."
Bill chuckled from the hallway.
"I'll fetch ya some vittles. You'd best eat now. Food gets kinda rank after a few weeks at sea."
"I don't care what he told you. I'm not Pride Ashton's woman. Do you understand? I'm not!"
"Whatever you say, ma'am. But I'll bring the food jest the same."
They closed and locked the cabin door and she heard their laughter as they went down the hall. Kate kicked the nearest trunk. There was nothing she could do but wait.
Jonas returned a short time later with bread and cheese and a mug of ale. "Not the fare they're havin' at the captain's table, I'll warrant. Oh, he said yerto have this." Jonas tossed Kate an orange. "And this." From inside his shirt he took an oilcloth bundle and unwrapped it carefully. "It's a book, ma'am. He thought maybe it would help to pass the time."
When he was gone, she picked up the book from the desk and examined it curiously. It was entitled An Account of the Settling of the Chesapeake Bay Area and Its Original Inhabitants, a history of the Maryland colony. Kate scanned a few pages. The more she knew about America, the easier it would be to make her escape and return to England. The light in the room was fading, so she took the book to the top bunk and began to read in earnest, but soon she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
"Do you do anything but sleep?"
Bewildered, Kate opened her eyes. Where...? Pride Ashton's mocking face was illuminated by a ship's lantern.
"Did they leave you no candle? I'm sorry. There were after-dinner drinks and then a few hands of cards. I meant to be here sooner. Did you read any of the book? What did you think of it?"
Kate drew her legs up under her modestly. On the top bunk, she was as far away from him as the cabin would permit. "Yes, I did, some of it, before it got dark. Thank you. I'm surprised a gentleman of your background would know anything of reading, let alone a book of such obvious merit."
He chuckled, a deep and warm sound. "Yes, Katy, I do read. As a matter of fact, not only have I read that particular history, but I wrote it. I'm glad to know you approve."
"Liar!" she protested, feeling childish in her response. "There's no need to put on an act, I know what you're here for." Now that the words were out, the fear began to creep quickly up her spine. She shivered. "I meant what I said. I'll not be your whore." He was too powerful to hold off physically; she'd have to depend on her wits. Trouble was... Trouble was her mind was blank. She didn't know what to do.
"If you know why I'm here, then put on a wrap. It's a damp windy night. I'm taking you for a walk on deck."
"I have nothing else, just this dress." Her voice sounded small and far away.
"Sweet Jesus, woman! Do ye listen to nothing I say? If I didn't know better I'd swear you were Shawnee. I told you there were clothes in the baggage." He fumbled with a trunk, pulled it from under the bed and opened the lid. A woman's cloak lay on top. "I hope the things fit. I said you were tall. I thought ye'd have little enough for the voyage."
Kate allowed him to drape the soft wool cloak over her shoulders. It was teal-blue and fit perfectly. She followed him wordlessly down the narrow passageway.
"Be careful," he warned. "The stairway's steep."
"'Tis called a ladder."
"Damn you for a shrewish wench! I know what it's called."
"Am I to be paraded now, like a prize cow?"
"Do you think of yourself as bovine?"
"What makes you think I won't throw myself overboard?"
"Suicide? I hadn't thought you were that stupid. Do so if you wish, but the sea is a cold grave." He took her arm and tucked it under his. "Truce, Kate. Whether you believe it or not, I mean you no harm. I brought you up for fresh air. I couldn't stand to be locked in a close place myself. I apologize for the cabin. It's the best to be had." Better for them both, he thought, if he could have had a larger. It would be agony to be this close to her without wanting more.
"Best would be my own cabin with a stout lock on the inside."
"Sometimes we have to settle for second best."
Suddenly, Pride pulled her into his arms and covered her surprised mouth with his own. She tasted the faint sharp bite of rum on his lips as she struggled to pull free. The touch of his hands sent warm chills through her body, and her limbs felt strangely weak.
"No, Kate, not yet," he murmured, kissing her again, lifting her from the deck against his body. She kicked uselessly with her bare feet against his high leather boots. One of his hands slipped inside the cloak to fit against her bottom and she gasped. Pride's tongue slipped between her teeth and she bit down hard.
"Damn it!" He pushed her away and spat blood. "You nearly took my tongue off."
"And so I will if you try that again." She tried to still the trembling, tried to convince herself that she hated him... that she hadn't liked his touch.
"You warmed to me before."
"I did not." She turned away, moving swiftly toward the rail. He followed. "I promised no truce," she said stubbornly.
Kate looked out over the water; the ocean was dark. The waves are like black furrows, she thought, stretching to the edge of the world and off, to the boiling chaos where the sea monsters breed. She gripped the worn railing. I should jump. Do it, an inner voice urged. Kate sighed. Not this way, not until every bridge was burned. The wind whipped at her cloak and she pulled it close. Pride's arm settled securely about her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," he admitted reluctantly. "London's manners must have rubbed off on me more than I care to admit." Kate held her tongue.
After a long silence, Pride began again. "Can we not stroll the ship like friends? I promise no more advances until they are welcomed." He grinned boyishly.
"Then you will have a long wait." Kate turned away and began to walk down the deck. He caught her hand and she let it lie limp in his, not willing to risk another physical encounter.
"Friends only, for now. But a friend may hold a lady's hand." His touch was gentle but firm.
"I don't consider you my friend, Lord Ashton. You were the instrument of the destruction of my life and of the loss of my father."
Pride released her hand. "Unwittingly, perhaps. But you and your father must bear the greater responsibility. You are too intelligent to deny your own guilt in the matter. I regret the death of your father, but he did die of a heart condition. Have you considered that he could have met the same fate in his sleep? The Shawnee say our days are numbered from the first, and what will be, must be."
Kate dropped onto a coil of rope and covered her face with her hands. The simple truth of his statements pierced her mind like a sharp knife. Pride had come to the aid of his uncle during a robbery. He had fought and pursued the highwayman. His behavior was without fault.
"You're right," she said hoarsely. "What happened after we stopped the coach... my being sent to Newgate... my father's—my father's death. You were never to blame. It was wrong of me to accuse you." She looked up at the dark silhouette standing over her. "But your actions in the prison were unforgivable! It was an assault on my honor that I shall never forget or forgive."
Wind-tossed clouds parted and a brilliant saffron moon briefly illuminated the deck of the Maid Marian, bathing the huge masts and railing in a soft golden glow. The black fur
rows of the sea dissolved into frosted swells and Kate's heart thrilled to the wonder of it. For an indescribable time there was no reality; she was caught up in a translucent crystal of beauty that shut out all else.
Pride's voice shattered the crystal. "Am I the first man to desire you?" His eyes were pits of blackness beneath the craggy brows.
"No," she stammered. "No... but... there are other ways of—"
"There are no other ways! You are a woman grown! A woman who has never known the joys of love. I want to teach you those joys, Kate. I won't apologize for that." He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "If only you knew how beautiful you are, with the moonlight on your hair." He held her at arm's length. "Kiss me, Kate."
"I want none of your kisses," she lied. "Or your honeyed words. Doubtless you've said the same to many a woman."
He laughed. "True. But I never knew they were false until tonight."
"Then you admit you lie," she dared, only too aware of the smoldering sensuality he held in check. She stilled an inner trembling. Pride Ashton was no savage predator of women, despite the taut wild look that flickered across his chiseled features. He was an English gentleman, with a gentleman's code of honor.
"I don't lie, Kate." The voice was low and controlled. "To a Shawnee, a liar is not worthy of being counted a man. If I say my words to other women were false, it's only because I never felt this way before. You are a very different breed of female. It's a little unnerving."
Footsteps on the deck invaded their isolation. Kate looked up to see a cloaked figure approaching. Pride's arm dropped possessively around her shoulder.
"Evening, Lord Ashton. I'd have thought you'd be abed."
"Captain Reynolds. We thought we'd get some fresh air first. May I present Mistress Kathryn Storm. Kate, the master of the Maid Marian, Captain Joshua Reynolds. The captain is a colonial by birth, he hails from Boston Town in the Massachusetts colony."