Montagne had gathered much support according to the captain, and Isabella’s claims might well fall on deaf ears. And the fact that an Englishman was aiding her might lend further credence to the conspiracy theory Montagne was spewing.
He said a fervent prayer that Kirk was successful in thwarting any escape attempt by Bonaparte. If that was indeed in the works, his failure to leave Elba could signal difficulties for Bonaparte sympathizers in Leaudor.
“Do you regret agreeing to help me?” she asked softly.
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Not at all, it’s my duty,” he rushed to say. His tongue seemed to rebel against him as he faltered to get the words out.
Her face fell then she stiffened beside him. Rising, she glanced back at him with those unreadable eyes he hadn’t seen since their first days together. “Yes, well, you mustn’t be remiss in your duty.”
She was bothered by something, but damned if he knew what it was. Perhaps she was growing more worried as they drew closer to her country.
“We will find the people responsible for your parents’ deaths,” he said in an attempt to reassure her once more. It was what she wanted to hear no doubt, something to bolster her flagging confidence.
But her expression remained stoic. “Yes, I know,” she said in a slightly clipped tone.
Her entire body was stiff and she flipped agitatedly at her hair. Annoyance burned in her eyes, and he realized perhaps she thought he was hinting that she was incapable of seeking justice. Instead of offering more platitudes, which he was sure would annoy her, he closed his mouth and remained silent.
A knock sounded at the door, and he immediately rose, but Isabella beat him to the door. A young man stood bearing a breakfast tray and handed it over to Isabella.
She smiled and thanked him then carried the tray over to the bed. “Have you eaten?” she asked as she uncovered the bread, cheese and a steaming meat pie.
“Yes, earlier with the captain.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Should you not have summoned me so that I could be present when the captain presented his plan?”
The imperious tone had returned, and it made him wretchedly uncomfortable. Not only did it outline in stark detail the vast distance between them, but it represented a coldness between them that hadn’t existed until now.
“You may be certain in the future I will not make such a mistake, Your Highness.”
A flicker of hurt flashed in her eyes but was gone in a second. He felt instant regret, but her demeanor hurt him, though he was loathe to admit it. “I should return to my cabin now,” he said in a low voice.
He walked out the door before she could say anything. Perhaps going above deck would clear his head.
* * *
Simon stayed as far from Isabella’s cabin as he could for the remainder of the day. The air was crisp, and the sea breeze stout, but the coldness kept his mind focused.
He watched the sun sink over the horizon, reflecting gold against the pink and purple hues that had long since replaced the blue canvas. In the twilight, he could make out the first stars as they appeared in the darkening sky. Soon the moon would rise and night would fall. The last night before an uncertain tomorrow.
Whatever accounted for Isabella’s curtness, he wanted to correct it before they left the ship. They had encountered far too much together, and he wanted the same trust and easy rapport between them when they embarked on the next leg of their quest.
His hands gripped the side railing of the ship as he steadied himself over a swell. For the first time, the idea of success didn’t fill him with satisfaction. For once he disposed of the threats against Isabella, she would become queen and he would return to England. The likelihood of even seeing her again was slim.
There was only tonight.
Drawing his shoulders up, he turned and walked back to Isabella’s cabin. He stood for several long seconds outside the door, debating whether to knock or just go in. His determination fueled his courage, and he opened the door in one motion, stepping in before he waited for her summons.
His jaw dropped when he saw her standing across the room in front of the washbasin. She turned when she heard him, just as surprised as he was. She dropped the cloth she had been washing herself with and returned his stare.
Her long hair fell in waves to her waist and swayed with her motion. Slender, bare legs slid seductively from beneath her shirt, and the shirt was parted giving him the barest peek of the swells of her breast. His gaze daren’t go lower. He locked onto her face, feeling foolish for barging in unannounced.
“My apologies,” he finally to say around a tongue that didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
But before he could turn and go, she reached up and gripped the lapels of her shirt in her hands and slowly pulled them over her shoulders, baring her breasts to his avid gaze. Her eyes locked with his, and he read insecurity, nervousness and desire within their depths. Then she shrugged from the shirt and let it fall in a pool at her feet.
Chapter Seventeen
Isabella stood tremulously before Merrick, praying that her courage didn’t desert her. His eyes flashed as they swept over her body and darkened to obsidian.
