“Alas, I whiled away the night in dreams.”
“I thank you for that, Captain Hawk,” she said softly. He glanced to her, then looked up toward the crow’s nest.
“Jacko!”
“Aye, Captain?”
“Is she clear?”
“As clear as fine crystal, Captain!”
“Robert! Mr. Arrowsmith!”
“Aye, Captain!” Robert was quickly with him, bounding up the steps of the platform from the far deck.
“Take the wheel, sir, if you please.”
“As you please, Captain!” Robert agreed.
The Hawk stepped away, offering Skye his arm. She hesitated, then took it, glancing wryly toward Robert. “I wonder if His Majesty’s ships of the Royal Navy work so smoothly,” she murmured.
“I wonder,” the Hawk agreed pleasantly. He led her starboard side, where the sea breeze touched her face and lifted her hair. “I’ve a few lady’s things aboard,” he told her. “We had not anticipated your arrival, and so little was prepared. What I have will be sent to you by afternoon.” He leaned against the rail, watching her intently. “I know your penchant for bathing, milady, and would not deny you the pleasure.”
She flushed slightly and turned to stare out at the coastline. “I want nothing of your ill-gotten gain, Captain,” she told him.
“Who says that what I offer is ill-gotten gain?”
She glanced at him sharply, and then her color deepened. “I want nothing belonging to your whores, either, Captain, thank you.”
He smiled, staring out on the water silently, not touching her. “Milady, I promise you, what I send belongs to no whore.”
“Then—”
“Certain of my men are married, milady. Though their wives’ finery might not be to your standards, still, certain…” He paused, his eyes meeting hers with a devilish light. “Certain intimate apparel will be clean and neat and surely acceptable.”
Even his silver eyes seemed to touch and stroke her, she thought. She should be far away from him. Far, far away.
She stared across to the shore. “Tell me, Captain, do you intend to let me wear this clean and neat clothing on my own?”
“Milady?”
“Are you—” Her lips were dry, and she was breathless, and they merely stood together and spoke. If only she could forget the past. If only the slightest brush of his arm against hers did not evoke memories of tempest.
“Are you going to leave me in peace, Captain? Your cabin, sir, have you given me that as my own?”
He took a long time answering. When she looked to him at last, he was studying her very seriously. “Until it is time to do otherwise.”
“What do you mean?”
“When we’ve found and taken your father, milady. Then I will return. It will be most difficult for you to keep your promise to me if I am bedded elsewhere.”
She did not reply but tore her eyes from his to survey the shore. “With my father on board?” she queried softly.
“You’re worried about your father—and not your husband?”
“My husband is not aboard,” she murmured miserably.
“Ah…so that makes it all right to be an adulteress?”
