He slipped the Ring onto his finger. Then before she could stop him, he leaned in and kissed her…full on the lips. Quick, gentle, and sensuous, leaving her so stunned she could neither move nor utter a word.
Or ignore the heat that flooded her.
Then turning, he dashed onto the street and disappeared from sight.
Emeline touched her lips.
’Twas her first kiss.
Delphine wasentertaining, so Emeline quickly slipped into her chamber and took off her wet skirts. Thankfully, Miss Catherine had laid out her clean gown, chemise, petticoats, stockings, and stays on the bed. Still, as Emeline dressed, she could not tear her thoughts from Captain Keene. Her emotions spun in a cyclone of rage, frustration, and shame one minute to an odd desire and sorrow at never seeing him again the next.
“Oh, pah!” She plopped onto her bed as moisture filled her eyes. “What is wrong with me?” Why such strong sentiments for a man who had proven himself to be naught but a beastly cad? Surely, she was merely missing her parents, her family. She had been through a terrifying ordeal, and now she had Jesuits in pursuit. Any lady would be out of sorts. In truth, any interest, any affection shown by anyone would cause hope to stir, even if thatanyonehad the decency of a bilge rat.
She swiped moisture from her eyes and rose to move to the window. Dark clouds retreated on the horizon, leaving the wet city glistening in the sunlight. ’Twas as if God Himself gave the wicked place a much-needed cleansing. If only it would last.
The bare tops of masts swayed in the bay, and she wondered which one was theSummons. Certainly the captain would set sail as soon as he returned to his ship.
Leaving her alone and defenseless.
Would it have mattered if she’d told him about the Jesuits? Most likely not. He had his Ring. Naught else mattered to him.
Which is precisely why she must get the churlish pirate out of her thoughts completely.
Moving to the looking glass, she yanked pins from her sodden hair and did her best to sift through the tangles with her fingers.
The sounds drifting from downstairs transformed from soft lovers’ moans to rising voices.
Doing her best to ignore them, Emeline stared at her reflection and sighed.Why had the captain kissed her? She was no raving beauty, at least not like her sister and mother. Her hair was the color of dull wheat, her face too round, her chin too pointed, and though they had drawn the man’s gaze, her breasts were far too small for her body. Besides, no doubt the handsome pirate had his choice of females wherever he went.
Pressing fingers on her lips, she could still feel his touch, smell his musky scent of the sea and rum.Oh, Lord, why did the first man to kiss me have to be a vile pirate? When all she ever wanted was a hero like her father or brother.
More importantly, why was she still thinking about him?
The voices from downstairs grew louder. Curses and accusations trumpeted up the stairs. Emeline moved to the door and listened, hugging herself.
Glass shattered. A woman screamed, “Non, non, arrêtez!”
Emeline’s heart raced. Flinging open her door, she barreled down the stairs, past the front parlor and into the receiving room. A bull of a man slammed Delphine against a wall, pinning her arms beside her and spitting obscenities in her face. Her hair hung in disheveled waves, and a trickle of blood spilled from the corner of her mouth. Eyes full of fear snapped to Emeline.
So, Emeline did the only thing she thought to do. She grabbed a vase from the table, charged the man, and slammed it over his head.
He folded onto Delphine, but the woman quickly shoved him away, sending him toppling to the floor with a thud.
For several minutes, Delphine stared at him, her chest heaving as an odd silence invaded the room. Finally, she looked up, took Emeline’s outstretched hand, and stepped over his unconscious body. She trembled as Emeline led her to the settee.
Miss Catherine appeared at the door, her eyes wide as they scanned the man and then her mistress. Shrieking, she flung a hand to her mouth.
“Catherine, please get a rag, a bowl of water, and some honey or comfrey ointment if you have any,” Emeline ordered.
The woman sped off as Emeline eased beside Delphine, who was still breathing hard.
“How can I thank you?” she finally muttered, drawing the corners of her robe over her silk nightdress.
“’Tis all right now. You’re safe,” Emeline said, but Delphine’s gaze sped to the brute of a man who had attacked her.
“We must get him outside before he wakes.” The urgency in her tone caused Emeline’s own nerves to tighten.
“We will.” Emeline squeezed her hand as Miss Catherine entered with rags, a bowl of water, and a jar.
