Beautiful Tempest
Page 53
“I thought you two were getting along, but it looks like she’s giving you the cold shoulder.” Mortimer joined him at the wheel, but nodded toward Jacqueline’s back. “I got the black eye, she didn’t, so I’m not apologizing to her.”
“No, she’s over that . . . well, she might not be if she sees you,” Damon said quietly. “But we need to step things up before the winds turn warm.”
“And her father catches up to us.”
“He’s going to be a week or two behind us, he’s not catching up, we’ll end up waiting for him in St. Kitts.”
“I’ll skip that first meeting, if it’s all the same to you, now that we know he really was a pirate back then, not just what we assumed when we were younguns.”
Damon grinned. “Lacross said that Hawke was worse than he ever was, which is hard to imagine, considering we know what he did to Andrew.”
Mortimer scoffed. “I wouldn’t believe a word out of that old pirate’s mouth. He just wants to kill the man responsible for defeating him and tossing him in prison. And you, hating Hawke as you do, are more than willing to help Lacross get his wish.”
“That was then—”
“You mean before you met his pretty daughter.”
Damon gave his friend a quelling look. “Don’t mix the issues.”
“They’re already mixed.”
“No, they aren’t. I do this for only one reason. My father. But I don’t expect to have to fight Malory to get him into Warden Bennett’s office. I can think of other ways to do that. Have you found out how many of the new men we can count on?”
“Only three. I think the others are scared of the pirates and won’t do anything other than hide when the fighting starts. I don’t think they’ll join in on the other side, though.”
“So that’s five of us, and hopefully Jack’s brother and possibly his friend. Still not good odds without a decent plan.”
“So we did capture her brother? I’m surprised she gave that up.”
“She didn’t. It just became obvious the more she lied about it.”
“Lied about what?” Jacqueline asked as she approached.
She was glaring at Mortimer, who snorted at her in response and left. Damon decided to get her attention on something else. “Perhaps a dress tonight for dinner? That’s if you have any left that you haven’t ripped up for britches?”
“I believe we’ve had this discussion about my preferences. And I’ve only ripped up one. Jackie packed thread to adjust his pants in case he outgrew them before reaching land again, but I already used up most of it.”
Damon shrugged. “I merely thought you might want to look a little more ladylike for our guests this evening.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
JACQUELINE DIDN’T ASK, DIDN’T need to. No one was aboard other than Jeremy and Percy that Damon would call “our guests.” He’d tied off the wheel and escorted her to the cabin so she could have her bath and prepare herself—hours before dinner. Did he think she was like other debutantes who spent all day primping for an event? Did he even know any other debutantes? She’d laughed anyway, couldn’t help it, she was so excited. Damon arrived first near the dinner hour with a full bottle of brandy in hand, but paused to sweep his eyes over her and the deep rose gown she’d picked for the occasion. He might have ordered her clothes in the right sizes, but he hadn’t specified debutante colors to the dressmaker.
“Magnificently feminine again.” He grinned. “But I confess I was getting used to your shapely britches.”
“The dress was your idea.”
“Not for me, but for your friends.” He put the bottle on his desk, then continued on to his clothes chest and donned a black jacket. With his white shirt and black trousers, and his black hair still wind-tossed about his shoulders, he looked rather dashing.
He moved back to his desk but merely leaned against it, his eyes moving slowly over her again. “And thank you for ignoring the evening gown. I’m not sure I could have survived that one.”
She blushed slightly since she knew what he was referring to. The single evening gown in the trunk would have revealed far too much bosom, which she wasn’t willing to share with him.
Percy came through the open door next. She was pleased to see him looking splendid, though definitely rumpled with no valet to attend to his attire, the same attire he’d been wearing in London. At least the wrinkles in his clothing indicated that he and her brother had been allowed to wash their clothes from time to time.
With a slight bow to Damon, Percy quipped, “My condolences, Captain Reeves.”
“For?” Damon asked.
Percy gave Jack a quick hug before stating, “For the day her father gets his hands on you. Brutal with his fists, unparalleled with a pistol. I daresay you won’t—”
“I get the idea,” Damon cut in drily.
Jacqueline, frowning over what Percy had just called Damon, said, “You told him your last name but you wouldn’t tell me? Or is that not your real name?”
“It is now.”
She rolled her eyes at Damon’s cryptic reply. Typical name-changing pirate, she guessed. But then Jeremy arrived, and even though he looked hale and hearty, she still started crying as she ran to put her arms around him, careful not to squeeze hard in case his ribs were still sore. He’d left his wrinkled jacket behind in his cabin. His hair was loose and so much longer that now he looked more the pirate than a London gentleman.
Jeremy whispered to her, “Is our presence the result of your trying the Reggie approach? Or because he came by last night and saw that my bruises have faded?”
“He was using your wounds as an excuse to keep me from actually seeing you.”
“Ah, so that’s why he said you won’t cry now when you see me. Well, you weren’t supposed to.” Jeremy chuckled, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“It’s such a relief to see you’ve recovered, Jer.”
But behind them she heard Damon say, “That settles that, brother after all. I’m glad to see we can dispense with the lies.”
She swung around. “So you were just humoring me by not calling me a liar?”
“I did want to applaud a few times because you delivered your lines so well, Jack. But be easy. Nothing has changed other than this is a night for truths. Shall we?” Damon waved a hand toward the table and walked over to it.
“No, she’s over that . . . well, she might not be if she sees you,” Damon said quietly. “But we need to step things up before the winds turn warm.”
“And her father catches up to us.”
“He’s going to be a week or two behind us, he’s not catching up, we’ll end up waiting for him in St. Kitts.”
“I’ll skip that first meeting, if it’s all the same to you, now that we know he really was a pirate back then, not just what we assumed when we were younguns.”
Damon grinned. “Lacross said that Hawke was worse than he ever was, which is hard to imagine, considering we know what he did to Andrew.”
Mortimer scoffed. “I wouldn’t believe a word out of that old pirate’s mouth. He just wants to kill the man responsible for defeating him and tossing him in prison. And you, hating Hawke as you do, are more than willing to help Lacross get his wish.”
“That was then—”
“You mean before you met his pretty daughter.”
Damon gave his friend a quelling look. “Don’t mix the issues.”
“They’re already mixed.”
“No, they aren’t. I do this for only one reason. My father. But I don’t expect to have to fight Malory to get him into Warden Bennett’s office. I can think of other ways to do that. Have you found out how many of the new men we can count on?”
“Only three. I think the others are scared of the pirates and won’t do anything other than hide when the fighting starts. I don’t think they’ll join in on the other side, though.”
“So that’s five of us, and hopefully Jack’s brother and possibly his friend. Still not good odds without a decent plan.”
“So we did capture her brother? I’m surprised she gave that up.”
“She didn’t. It just became obvious the more she lied about it.”
“Lied about what?” Jacqueline asked as she approached.
She was glaring at Mortimer, who snorted at her in response and left. Damon decided to get her attention on something else. “Perhaps a dress tonight for dinner? That’s if you have any left that you haven’t ripped up for britches?”
“I believe we’ve had this discussion about my preferences. And I’ve only ripped up one. Jackie packed thread to adjust his pants in case he outgrew them before reaching land again, but I already used up most of it.”
Damon shrugged. “I merely thought you might want to look a little more ladylike for our guests this evening.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
JACQUELINE DIDN’T ASK, DIDN’T need to. No one was aboard other than Jeremy and Percy that Damon would call “our guests.” He’d tied off the wheel and escorted her to the cabin so she could have her bath and prepare herself—hours before dinner. Did he think she was like other debutantes who spent all day primping for an event? Did he even know any other debutantes? She’d laughed anyway, couldn’t help it, she was so excited. Damon arrived first near the dinner hour with a full bottle of brandy in hand, but paused to sweep his eyes over her and the deep rose gown she’d picked for the occasion. He might have ordered her clothes in the right sizes, but he hadn’t specified debutante colors to the dressmaker.
“Magnificently feminine again.” He grinned. “But I confess I was getting used to your shapely britches.”
“The dress was your idea.”
“Not for me, but for your friends.” He put the bottle on his desk, then continued on to his clothes chest and donned a black jacket. With his white shirt and black trousers, and his black hair still wind-tossed about his shoulders, he looked rather dashing.
He moved back to his desk but merely leaned against it, his eyes moving slowly over her again. “And thank you for ignoring the evening gown. I’m not sure I could have survived that one.”
She blushed slightly since she knew what he was referring to. The single evening gown in the trunk would have revealed far too much bosom, which she wasn’t willing to share with him.
Percy came through the open door next. She was pleased to see him looking splendid, though definitely rumpled with no valet to attend to his attire, the same attire he’d been wearing in London. At least the wrinkles in his clothing indicated that he and her brother had been allowed to wash their clothes from time to time.
With a slight bow to Damon, Percy quipped, “My condolences, Captain Reeves.”
“For?” Damon asked.
Percy gave Jack a quick hug before stating, “For the day her father gets his hands on you. Brutal with his fists, unparalleled with a pistol. I daresay you won’t—”
“I get the idea,” Damon cut in drily.
Jacqueline, frowning over what Percy had just called Damon, said, “You told him your last name but you wouldn’t tell me? Or is that not your real name?”
“It is now.”
She rolled her eyes at Damon’s cryptic reply. Typical name-changing pirate, she guessed. But then Jeremy arrived, and even though he looked hale and hearty, she still started crying as she ran to put her arms around him, careful not to squeeze hard in case his ribs were still sore. He’d left his wrinkled jacket behind in his cabin. His hair was loose and so much longer that now he looked more the pirate than a London gentleman.
Jeremy whispered to her, “Is our presence the result of your trying the Reggie approach? Or because he came by last night and saw that my bruises have faded?”
“He was using your wounds as an excuse to keep me from actually seeing you.”
“Ah, so that’s why he said you won’t cry now when you see me. Well, you weren’t supposed to.” Jeremy chuckled, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“It’s such a relief to see you’ve recovered, Jer.”
But behind them she heard Damon say, “That settles that, brother after all. I’m glad to see we can dispense with the lies.”
She swung around. “So you were just humoring me by not calling me a liar?”
“I did want to applaud a few times because you delivered your lines so well, Jack. But be easy. Nothing has changed other than this is a night for truths. Shall we?” Damon waved a hand toward the table and walked over to it.
