“Not that we shall be so very close to Williamsburg.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Cameron Hall, milady. It is a good three hours down the James. Closer to Jamestown, but on higher ground. We do, of course, come into the city now and then. You will not be so completely isolated.”
She felt as if the bars of a new prison were falling quickly shut upon her.
“I wonder, milord—”
“Oh, you needn’t fret so uncomfortably, milady. I have already heard that you are opposed to the marriage.”
She stared at him, her eyes flashing. “Well, milord, I have heard that you, too, were opposed!”
He inclined his head, smiling. “Ah, but that was before I sailed the seas for you, milady!”
She flushed, and swallowed down the whole of her wine after all. Lord Cameron quickly stood, taking her glass to refill it. She watched him walk away. He was a tall man, too, with a long back and broad shoulders. She imagined that beneath his finery he was well muscled and toned. She shivered suddenly, and did not know why. He was unerringly polite, yet she sensed that his temper might be great when provoked.
“Milord—”
“Roc, Skye. Please, you must be comfortable with my given name.”
“Roc—” She paused, gritting her teeth. He came around, facing her. He placed her wineglass down before her again and moved away, this time perching upon the corner of his desk. He waited expectantly. “Roc, I do with all my heart appreciate your trouble and valor in coming so swiftly to my rescue. And the expense, of course—”
“The expense?” He arched a brow.
“The—the expense,” she repeated, faltering. “The ransom! I’m sure that he charged you dearly for my return.”
“Why, not at all, milady.”
“You are too polite and generous, milord.”
“Not at all. I tell you the truth. The pirate didn’t charge me a single farthing for your return.”
She gasped out loud, coming to her feet. “He what?”
Lord Cameron’s dark lashes flickered over his silver eyes. “Why the distress, milady? We paid for the seamen, the ship, and the maids, but you, my dear, were returned to us through goodwill.”
“He did not even charge you for me!”
His brow flew up. She quickly tried to hide her distress, falling back into her chair, swallowing down her second glass of wine.
“I repeat, my dear, he did not charge for you.”
She lowered her head quickly, but there came a knock upon the captain’s door, and Lord Cameron quickly answered it. “Thank you, Mr. Monahan,” he said, directing a hefty sailor with a huge serving tray to the table. “My dear, this is Mr. Monahan, the cook’s assistant. Mr. Monahan, my Lady Skye.”
“Lady,” Mr. Monahan said, bowing deeply as he set the tray down with a flourish. He lifted the silver cover from the serving plate. “Pheasant, milady, stuffed with nuts and cornmeal and raisins. I hope that it will be to your pleasure.”
“I’m sure that it shall, Mr. Monahan,” she said sweetly. Then there was silence as Mr. Monahan prepared the plates. Skye waited uneasily until he was gone and cast a gaze toward Lord Cameron. Her heart catapulted when she discovered that he was staring at her deeply and intently. The cabin was too small for the two of them. She longed to escape him. She desperately, desperately needed to be alone.
“Do you feel ill?” he asked her when Mr. Monahan had left them. He took his place opposite from her.
She shook her head. “I—I’m fine.” She wasn’t fine. She didn’t feel well at all. She picked up her fork and played idly with her food.
He was still watching her, paying no heed to his food. “The governor intends to clean out the pirates, you know. Lieutenant Governor Spotswood, that is. He is bold man, adventurous and determined. Where other men in power turn their heads, he stands strong. He will see all the pirates swept from the seas, skewered through or brought to trial. Then they may hang from the neck until dead.”
She set her fork down.
“Skye, whatever is the matter?”
