Page 75 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“How do you occupy yourself, my lord?” Eve bit into her roll. “We see you only in passing on our walks, and not always then. Surely you aren’t keeping yourself confined down below as we are?”

“You are not down below, Miss Crenshaw. The second mate gave up his private cabin for you.”

Eve nodded. “I knew the cabin belonged to an officer. You must have paid a pretty penny for this excursion, my lord.”

He grinned. “The very reason I enjoy full freedom of the ship—as much as the captain, in fact.”

“I suppose I should consider myself fortunate to have been allowed even the privilege of slaving away in the galley.”

“You were not pressed into service.” He ripped his roll apart and ate the piece. “You begged to be allowed to cook. But had I known what a skilled baker you are, I would have chained you here and stood guard myself.”

“You must have eaten half a dozen of those rolls,” Eve said. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“It would be worth it. When did you learn to make these? They really are the best I’ve ever had.”

“Our cook is the finest in Manchester. That is the one area where my father insists upon the best.”

“I heartedly agree,” Lord Rushton said. “She taught you well.”

“She did, to my mother’s mortification. When I was eight, I begged Mrs. Larson to teach me. I have no doubt it began as an indulgence, but by the time I was twelve, I had mastered hot cross buns and pigeon pie, to name two of my favorites. At a dinner party my mother hosted she discovered the bread she served to guests had been prepared by my hand and nearly had an apoplexy. She threatened poor Mrs. Larson with unemployment. My father warned me to go into the kitchen only when my mother was out of the house and demanded Mrs. Larson give the first of my fruits in payment for his silence.”

Lord Rushton grinned. “I can see you sitting on a stool at the counter alongside the honorable Mrs. Larson.”

Eve laughed with the memory. “I was a sight. I had a terrible habit of getting as much flour on me and the surrounding table and floor as I did in the bowl.”

His gaze traveled down her frame and her cheeks heated. “You aren’t quite as much of a mess now.” He reached across the table and she froze when he brushed at something on her right cheek. “A smudge of flour,” he said. “Some things never change.” He grinned. “You will likely need a bath after this.”

Eve turned her attention to her stew. “One can only dream.”

“The captain has a tub in his quarters. Perhaps I can arrange something.”

She snorted. “You are being cruel. I cannot believe you would allow Grace and me a bath when you will barely permit us to leave our cabin.”

“It would be a great risk,” he said with gravity. “If the men knew there were naked woman aboard ship that would most assuredly incite mutiny.”

“My lord, you make them sound so ferocious that I wonder how in heaven’s name you have managed to control such a motley crew.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” he said. “Did it occur to you that I spend my time fending them off?”

Eve rolled her eyes. “They have not so much as glanced our way.”

“Oh, they have, indeed, glanced your way.”

“How would you know?”

“I know because I am a man. It would be impossible for them not to look.”

A tremor rippled through Eve’s stomach. “Not all men are like you,” she ventured.

He grunted. “Indeed not, but in this respect, these men are like me. Unlike me, however, some would not hesitate to force their attentions upon you.”

“You did force your attentions onto me.”

He flashed a smile so charming her breath caught. “You are too irresistible to resist.”

Eve blinked. He laughed, clearly comprehending that she hadn’t forgotten his kisses—and more—and she quickly said, “Where the sailors are concerned, I think you are trying to scare me.”

“I am, but it is only because it is the truth.”

“You have a flair for the dramatic, my lord.”

“I promise you, on this, I do not exaggerate.” His attention was on his roll and he dunked it in his stew with obvious relish. “I left no doubt in their minds that I would kill them if they disobeyed me.”

“Kill them—you are teasing me. No one would actually hurt us.”

“Invariably, there is always one bad apple, and that is more than enough to do damage. Now,” his eyes shifted to her, “what payment should I extract in exchange for arranging your bath?”