Pirate Of My Heart Part 4

The motion of the waves caused the ship to dip. Kendra tumbled into his chest where his automatic response was to wrap his arms around her to keep her from falling. "Oh!" she yelped, and then sprang back with a gasp. She looked up at him with wide eyes, yanked her arms from his grasp. "I think I should retire now," she rushed out. "Thank you for the walk, Captain." She turned and fled from the deck, skirts swaying in her effort to take herself back to the cabin.

Dorian stood where she left him for a long time, gripping the rail and allowing the night air to cool his heated blood. She'd bewitched him. He barked out a laugh and turned to stare out at the cresting waves of endless sea. He'd been wrong to withhold his name from her.

After this night, perhaps he should be calling her captain.

Chapter Six.

Perhaps avoiding her would help him regain his sanity.

At least that's what he'd thought when he came up with the brilliant plan of commanding John to take over the duty of escorting Kendra on her twice daily turn around deck.

Dorian leaned over the quarterdeck rail and watched the two of them laughing as they came around the corner, Kendra's hand tucked in the crook of John's arm. She didn't seem to miss him at all. No, she seemed perfectly happy to have John's company. More happy and comfortable than with him. Jealousy, he decided, was a very unpleasant emotion. Not that John had any intentions toward her. John had been engaged for over a year and planned to marry Victoria at the end of the summer. Still, the more he tried to appear uninterested in his pa.s.senger, the more she haunted his mind.

And worse still, the crew was noticing something was amiss with their captain. He'd caught more than one hastily turned gaze or stopped conversation when he entered a room. And he'd barked orders in a tone that spoke of the raw edge to his nerves. It was astounding. How could a mere slip of a woman turn him into someone he didn't know? For the first time in his life, he felt like he didn't belong in his own skin.

The object of his thoughts laughed, causing his gaze to snap back down to her. John was leaning down and saying something close to Kendra's ear. She looked up at his first mate with another laugh and joyous sparkle in her eyes. Dorian gripped the railing under his hands until his knuckles turned white. Why did he want to march down there and jerk her from John's arm? Maybe he would.

Before he had time to talk himself out of the madness he had reached the couple. Kendra jerked her head up and took a step back. Dorian realized he was breathing with a harsh sound coming from between his teeth. Get control, man! He unclenched his fists and demanded his body to relax. John watched him approach with raised brows and the quivering mouth of a suppressed smile.

"Something amiss, Captain?" John looked at him as if to say, what in the world is wrong with you?

Dorian pasted a smile on his face and attempted a light tone. "Nothing wrong, John. I just forgot that Smythe has the grippe and has taken to his bed. I'll need you in the crow's nest this evening."

John ducked his head and Dorian could swear his shoulders shook for a moment. When he looked back up he had his features back under control. "Yes, sir. Funny though, saw Smythe a little while ago and he seemed as healthy as a horse to me." The corner of John's mouth quivered.

Dorian set his teeth. "It came on suddenly."

"Of course, Captain." John looked down at Kendra. "If you will excuse me, my lady, duty calls."

Kendra's gaze settled on Dorian with a perplexed crease on her brow, as if she knew something was not quite right but couldn't put her finger on what it was. "Thank you, John. I always have a lovely time with you as my escort. And I am looking forward to meeting Victoria. She's sounds wonderful."

John bowed his head at her then turned to Dorian and saluted. Dorian frowned at him. He never demanded his men salute and they knew it.

Kendra sighed. "I suppose you are much too busy to play nursemaid to me, Captain, and I will have to return to my cabin."

Dorian had achieved his goal of getting her away from John, but found the idea of confining her to the cabin on such a nice evening unfair. It wasn't her fault he couldn't seem to behave as a person with a morsel of sanity. "Actually, I have a little time. It is such a fine evening. Would you care to allow me to escort you?" He held out his arm and found to his further discomfort that his heart was pounding with the fear that she would reject it. She stood there looking at him for a moment too long. He was just about to pull his arm back to his side where it belonged, when she reached out and clasped his arm, taking a step closer to him. "Why Captain, I apologize for the hesitation, it is just that you surprise me so. I was under the impression that you couldn't abide the sight of me."

Couldn't abide the sight of her? Was she daft? He couldn't get the image of her from his mind. Of course, when he looked at the situation from her perspective it might appear he wanted nothing to do with her.

Dorian put his other hand on top of her hand, the one resting on his arm, and turned them toward the bow. Determined to regain his legendary charm, he took a small breath and gave her the smile that usually had the fair s.e.x looking at him with doe eyes. "My dear Lady Townsend, don't think it, I beg you. As captain of this ship, I have duties-I am the eyes and ears at all times. But if you've missed me so much, I will try and prioritize my time better. You are my first pa.s.senger and I'm afraid I don't quite know what to do with you."

Wrong thing to say. Very wrong.

Kendra's eyes flashed violet-hazed heat. "Oh dear," she pursed her lips, "I had no idea I have been such a weight on your mind. Why, all I asked for was a little fresh air when the weather allows. I do apologize for my . . . neediness."

Dorian stopped them and gazed down into her rueful orbs. She dimpled at him. Where had those come from? He hadn't realized when she smiled a particular kind of smile-more a smirk-that she had two adorable dimples on each cheek. Their effect on him ruined any verbal thrust he could come up with, instead causing him to stare at her lips. There wasn't much he wouldn't give to kiss those lips.

Kendra took a step back and inhaled. The sun was glinting off the water and shining on his face. His eyes were smoldering as they locked with hers. She could hear her heart beat in her ears. Oh, dear. Lord, get me out of this or I'm going to let him kiss me right here in front of all and sundry. The prayer sounded funny, and she smiled, breaking the tension. "Captain, are you a believer?"

Dorian's gaze snapped awake. "Believer? Of what, my lady?"

"Of the Christian faith, of course. I find prayer helps at times like these." She raised her brows, hoping he knew to what she was referring.

He seemed to take the question seriously and looked off into the distance at the low summer clouds. "It's been some time since I last prayed, I admit, but I am a man of faith. My mother, she made sure we all attended church every Sunday."

"I shall miss my church," Kendra admitted in a soft and wistful tone. She thought back on the little chapel on their property. All the neighbors gathered there every Sunday and the magistrate, Pastor Timms, gave such sincere messages. Then there was her work with the poor and sickly parishioners. Bringing them baskets of m.u.f.fins, bathing fevered brows, and tidying up, it was a work she had been glad to do. "I do hope to find a church in America."

Dorian stared at her with a thoughtful gaze, his humor seemingly restored. "I shall make it my mission to see that you visit mine. I do believe your aunt and uncle live close enough."

"Oh? Do you know where they live? I had thought to have to discover that on my own upon our arrival."

Dorian took her arm again and led her further down the deck. "It is just north of Yorktown, I believe. According to the description your uncle gave me."

"Is that close to where you live?"

The captain gave a short nod. "Close enough."

He didn't sound very pleased by the prospect of having her so near, which was confusing, seeing that he was offering to help her find a church. Kendra felt as if her feathers had been ruffled. She sniffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Are you cold?" He was the very picture of concerned care. Gracious, how the man made her emotions swing to and fro like a child's swing.

"No," but she shivered, belying her words. The breeze was rather chilly by the rail.

"Here, we can't have you catching a chill." The captain shrugged out of his coat and placed it around her shoulders. He stood in a white, full-sleeved shirt, dark breeches, and tall Hessian boots. The wind plastered the fabric of the shirt against his wide chest. Kendra averted her eyes but couldn't stop the scent from his coat wafting to her nose. It was the same scent she'd smelled on his shirt earlier, when she'd practically ransacked his armoire. Her cheeks grew warm with the memory. "Thank you," she choked out.

Thinking to turn the conversation to safer ground, she clutched the coat under her chin and asked, "Why haven't you prayed in so long?"

The captain shifted against the side of the ship and shrugged. "I guess I haven't found the need."

Kendra's eyes widened. How could anyone not need to communicate with G.o.d?

"I see I've shocked you. It's just that life has been busy and . . . well . . . taking care of itself, I suppose."

"Don't you miss Him? G.o.d, I mean?"

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he looked at her with a flash of revelation in his eyes. "Now that you mention it, I guess I do." His eyes turned teasing. "You will have me a reformed man, my lady. Indeed, I will say my bedtime prayers from hence forth."

Kendra wasn't sure if he was making sport of her or not. She was just about to launch into the benefits of a prayerful life when they heard a shout. It was John's voice, up in the crow's next.

"Ship to starboard!"

The captain straightened, turned, and started to go, then turned back toward her. "Go to your cabin and lock the door. Do not let anyone in or come out until I come for you."

Fear and an excited panic jolted through Kendra. "Are they pirates?"

Dorian shook his head at her with a small grin. "You have been reading too many novels, my lady. Let us hope not. But to be safe you must stay in your cabin. Understood?"

Kendra nodded and hurried to obey.

The ship turned out to be an American merchant ship. Dorian commanded his crew send out a longboat with the message that the captain was welcome to board the Angelina to exchange news if he had the time to spare. Instead of sending a message back, Captain Joseph Moore, booming with laughter and clutching a bottle of rum, arrived a few moments later.

Dorian soon realized he was in a quandary. He usually entertained guests in his captain's cabin where there was plenty of room and privacy. John's first mate's bunk was small, even more so since he had moved in with him. And the deck was growing chilly with the night air and the feel of rain coming. The only solution seemed to be to ask Lady Townsend if she minded hosting them.

It wasn't as if they would be unchaperoned with an old sea-salt like Captain Moore with them, but after his conversation with Kendra tonight, he wasn't sure she would accept such a suggestion. And he wasn't sure how he felt about their conversation on faith. Thankfully, Captain Moore had interrupted that line of talk, giving him time to dwell on the matter.

Dorian sent John to make the request while he gave Captain Moore a tour of the ship. It was something he usually enjoyed, showing off the brigantine to like-minded men who appreciated the fine workmanship, but now he was anxious, tapping his toe against the freshly scrubbed deck boards, awaiting her reply.

He took a breath of relief as John's nodding face came into view at the stairwell. "Lady Townsend said she would be happy to host dinner for you, sir. Shall I have Tipper prepare a special supper for you?"

Dorian nodded to his first mate, turning to Captain Moore. "Sir, allow me to introduce you to my pa.s.senger, Lady Townsend of Arundel."

Captain Moore gave him a wolfish smile. "A real English lady, eh? I can't say that I've met a lady of the n.o.bility. What's she like?"

Dorian swung out his arm toward the stairs leading down to the cabins. "If you care to follow me, sir, I will try and satisfy your curiosity."

The old captain chuckled and followed Dorian to the cabin.

Kendra rushed about the cabin putting everything to rights and smoothing her hair in the looking gla.s.s. She was just pinching color into her cheeks as a knock sounded on the door. Oh, if only she'd had more time! She turned from her reflection thinking she looked as good as three minutes of primping could accomplish and strode to the door. She had not entertained in a long time. Hopefully, she would be able to keep the conversation flowing with the captain's melting smile facing her from the other side of the table.

She opened the door to find Captain Colburn and a white-whiskered, rotund gentlemen in a dark blue uniform with elaborate golden epaulettes standing beside him. He whipped off his hat in an elaborate gesture and bowed toward Kendra. She gestured toward the room, liking him instantly. "Good evening, Captain. And you must be Captain Moore, won't you please come in?"

The cabin seemed small as the two big men entered. As soon as the door was closed, her captain, as she now thought of him to distinguish between the two, made the introductions. "Captain Moore, may I present Lady Kendra Townsend." Kendra bobbed a small curtsy. "Lady Townsend, this is the captain of an American merchant ship out of Boston."

"I was so relieved to hear you weren't pirates," Kendra teased, allowing Captain Moore to take her hand and plant a big, dry kiss on the back of it. "I've heard so many stories of pirate ships while on board the Angelina that I was quite certain I would hear the clashing of swords above my head. Had the furniture not been nailed down, I was contemplating how best to barricade the door. It is fortunate now that I was unable to rearrange the cabin."

Captain Moore leaned back his head, placed his hands on his hips, and boomed with laughter. He glanced at Captain Colburn with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "Pirates! Why, I haven't seen a pirate ship in years. You haven't been trying to frighten the young lady, have you, sir?"

Dorian winked. "Well, perhaps a little. She did seem to enjoy the stories."

"Please, won't you be seated? I asked the cook to bring tea and it just arrived."

Captain Moore took a longing look at the bottle of spirits in his hand and then set it aside on the desk. Kendra poured the tea and seated herself across from Dorian.

"Captain Moore, are you returning to Boston or departing from it?" Kendra asked, thinking to start the conversation. Captain Colburn was staring at her from across the table with a small smile tipping up the corners of his mouth, making normal thought a challenge. She frowned at him and locked her attention to the old captain's face. "I'm off to your city, my lady. London, with a cargo full of grain." He nodded his head at her. "And you, ma'am? There must be a story behind such a lovely lady as yourself sailing on a cargo ship. Making haste to see America?"

Heat infused her cheeks as Kendra realized she would be asked this question again and again once she arrived on American soil. What was she to say? Her uncle had taken a sudden dislike to her and booted her from her home? Before she had time to think of something, Dorian spoke for her. "Lady Townsend is going to visit her relatives north of Yorktown. Her aunt is doing poorly and Lady Townsend is kind enough to stay with them until she recovers."

"Oh, sorry to hear that, but very kind of you indeed. I have family near Yorktown. What is your aunt's name?"

Kendra's gaze flew to Dorian's face in a panic. He would know them, and Captain Colburn would have to prevaricate the story. "Franklin and Amelia Rutherford."

The captain paused, cleared his throat, and took a sip of his tea. "You don't say." His gaze flickered to Kendra's and then away as if uncomfortable.

"Do you know them, sir?"

"I have heard of the Rutherfords, yes, yes, from England. Must be them." He rubbed his large hands together and glanced back over his shoulder at the bottle on the desk.

A knock sounded at the door, stopping the conversation. Dorian stood, opened it, and took the large tray where steaming dishes resided. He helped the cook, a reed-thin fellow with a toothy grin, set down the food and then nodded for him to leave. Kendra pa.s.sed out the plates and the silver utensils while Dorian took the covers off the food. Fish in a creamed gravy, salt pork, roasted potatoes, ears of golden corn, and thick slices of b.u.t.tered bread made up the simple meal. There was a bottle of sherry, which Dorian poured for the captain and himself, and cranberry tarts for dessert.

Conversation turned away from Kendra's family, to the relief of all, as Captain Moore told his own tales about life at sea. The hour pa.s.sed in a pleasant way, both of the men growing more comfortable as they enjoyed each other's company. She looked across the table at her captain and felt a tenderness well up in her heart for him. He was relaxed, smiling and laughing, his tanned hands crossed upon one knee. He had wonderful hands, she thought on a whim. Strong, perfectly formed hands. The thought of them touching her . . . her face, her hair . . . gliding down her back . . .

"Lady Townsend, are you quite alright?"

Kendra's gaze jerked up from the captain's hands to his eyes, eyes that had turned a shade darker. Heat filled her cheeks and she cleared her throat to make s.p.a.ce around the lump so that she could speak. Still, her voice squeaked. "Oh, sorry. Wool-gathering, I suppose."

That he saw through her lie was obvious by the small smile and knowing mirth in his eyes. "Anything interesting? Perhaps you would like to share it with us?"

"Oh, um. No, that is . . . it was nothing, just silly, flirting, uh, flitting thoughts." She narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to gainsay her. His slow grin sent a wave of excited nervousness through her stomach. She cast a pleading glance toward Captain Moore for rescue. The good man jumped in to save her by patting his round stomach and announcing he should be on his way. "As much as I would like to stay, I'll not make it to London on time to meet my contact if I dally here any longer," he said in a wistful voice.

They all stood and Captain Moore took Kendra's hand in his big one and gave it another kiss. "A pleasure, my lady. A true pleasure you are."

"Why thank you, Captain. It has been a very enjoyable evening."

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Be strong now, remember that. America isn't a place for the faint of heart, but I have a feeling you will do quite well there if you set your mind to it."

The words made her feel proud somehow. Like he believed in her. "Thank you, Captain. I will remember that."

After he left, Captain Colburn helped Kendra clear the dishes. They were both silent, but it was a companionable silence, working side-by-side, a brush of Kendra's skirts against his shoes, a reach for the same plate, both pausing, then one of them backing quickly away. After the tray had been taken away and the last crumb brushed from the floor, they stood facing each other for a long moment.

"Thank you, Kendra. You were wonderful tonight."

A pleased feeling expanded inside her. She smiled and glanced away. "It was rather fun. I haven't entertained in so long. I had forgotten what a pleasure it is. Thank you for including me."

It was absurd really. How good he made her feel. How they both knew he didn't want to leave but that he must and how they were both prolonging the moment as long as possible, straining toward each other.

"Well"-Dorian bowed his head toward her-"I suppose all good things must come to an end. Good-night."

Kendra stood rooted to the floor, demanding her feet stay put when all she wanted to do was take a step or two toward him. "Good-night."

He hesitated, started to turn away and then turned back, taking the necessary steps to stand right in front of her, his face inches away. He reached for her hand, a naughty twinkle in his eyes as he reminded her in a low voice. "You allowed the other captain to kiss you-"

"My hand!" Kendra interrupted.

"As I was saying . . . Captain Moore kissed you . . .here . . ." Dorian took up her hand, raised it to his lips, and closed his eyes. Her heartbeat doubled as he paused, his breath fanning across the back of her hand. Finally, he lowered his lips, her palm turning clammy, and planted the faintest of a soft kiss on her knuckles. She shivered, rooted to the floor. Oh, heavens! I mean G.o.d! Whatever am I to do now?

Dorian pulled her hand toward his chest. She could feel his heart pounding against her palm. The loud thudding made it all too real. This man was not playing games with her. If he were, he would not be as affected by her, the evidence too strong and sure under her hand. There was something happening here, something real that quite possibly didn't happen very often. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

What if they were falling in love?