Devil's Own

Page 39

He stalked back and sat on the edge of his desk so that she was forced to crane her neck up to look at him. He took his book from her lap, letting his hand graze lustfully along her thigh as he did so. “I don’t think I like you snooping about. You must ask me next time. I’d be happy to show you whatever you’d like to see.”
Nestling the folio back in its hiding spot, he added, “In fact, I should take you on a tour of the docks.”
The prospect gave her a chill. “That sounds … delightful.”
“But sadly, it’s time for me to get back to work. I must make money to buy us a honeymoon you’ll never forget.” Giving her an oily smile, he stood, taking her hands and pulling her up with him. “But first, a kiss for your husband-to-be.”
Her facade cracked, and she instinctively recoiled.
Fraser’s grip tightened on her fingers. Eyes narrowed, he said, “Elspeth, dear heart. You don’t strike me as the most eager of brides. Is it that you’re afraid of me?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. I simply …”
Simply what? I’m simply repulsed?
His eyes seemed to pierce her. “You are simply … overwhelmed, perhaps, at how quickly we are proceeding?”
“Yes,” she said, relieved at being given an out. “Perhaps that is it.”
“Perhaps you don’t want to carry this engagement forward just yet,” he suggested gently.
She hesitated. Could it be that Fraser wanted out of the betrothal too? Had it all just been something her father had concocted?
She felt a glimmer of hope. This arrangement might be easier to back out of than she’d thought. “Perhaps you are right, Lord Fraser.”
“Ah,” he said, taking his hands from hers. He added in a clipped voice, “I had the right of it.”
She told herself that his peculiar tone wasn’t chilly, that Fraser was merely acting formally. She gave him a broad smile. “I’m grateful for your understanding.”
“Oh, I understand. I understand quite well. You don’t think you need to make this marriage.”
It sounded like an accusation, and the shift in tone confused her. She shrugged nervously. “I suppose I don’t.”
“And I tell you that you do,” he said sharply.
Her confusion turned to panic. He’d tricked her into confessing her aversion to their marriage. “But I thought you didn’t want it either … ?”
But instead of responding, he only stared coldly, and so she prattled on. “I’m happy, you see. Our farm is thriving. And I’m very busy—”
“Fool girl. You have no idea how deeply in debt your father has fallen.”
She bristled. There was nothing that nettled her more than being called foolish. She was smart and clever, yet it seemed the men of the world were blind to it. “On the contrary. I know my father’s debts well. And they are not so great as to force me into wedlock.”
“Forced, are you?” There was a sneer in his narrow eyes.
She wasn’t so impetuous as to take the bait, and took their argument in a different direction. “We’ve made improvements recently, and have begun to turn a profit.”
“A grand success, is it? Your precious wee farm?” His voice and expression were flat, and she didn’t know how to read him.
“I believe it will be a success,” she replied, sounding more confident than she felt.
“I’d thought you might want a man like me to help. But perhaps not.” He stood stiffly at the door, holding it open for her. He’d been difficult to read, but this hint couldn’t have been more blatant.
She scurried out. “Good day, then.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Good luck to you, Miss Farquharson. And to your farm.”
Fraser shut the door on Elspeth’s back. Whatever he’d expected her reaction to their betrothal to be, it hadn’t been that.
She was a queer little creature, but curious and clever in a way that made him feel awake and alive. It was an unexpected pleasure to encounter such a mind, and in a woman, of all creatures.
He went back to his chair, retrieved his folio, and idly flipped through its pages. What had she been looking for? Had she found it?
Scooting back, he kicked his feet up on his desk. The chit was sneaky and willful. Not unlike himself, he thought with amusement. Though he’d yet to figure out what her game was, he found himself enjoying it very much indeed.
Leaning back, he rested his hands atop his head and smiled. He was enjoying this little game, but not as much as he was going to enjoy watching that pretty porcelain face submit to his will. Never before had he considered taking a wife, but he decided he’d quite like having this one. And he would have her.
Because, contrary to her thoughts on the matter, Elspeth would find herself needing him. And he knew exactly what manner of help he could provide.
Chapter 25
Aidan caught up with Elspeth just as she was dashing from Fraser’s offices. He ducked into a shadowy doorway, hiding just in time. Damned if the woman wasn’t exactly where he feared she’d be.
Had she met with Fraser? And might she actually have discovered something? She was the brightest person he knew—man or woman—and nothing she did would surprise him.
She stormed down the alley, turning onto a larger street, and Aidan sprang out, quick to catch up before she got away. She was headed toward the water, without a pause in her step, or even a cowl to conceal her face. Rather, there was purpose in her stride, rushing to the docks as though she were a captain with a ship on fire.
What was the woman up to? She had such fanciful notions, come from reading too many books. She was clearly on some sort of mission, which meant she was bound for some sort of trouble.
Had she no fear? She was utterly dauntless. It was maddening. And, he had to admit, he couldn’t help but admire her for it.
They reached the harbor, and as she slowed her pace, he let more space grow between them. Shadowing her was proving fascinating, and he wasn’t yet ready to be discovered.
It wasn’t until she stopped that he fully realized where they were. He ducked behind a pillar, leaning against it, his heart in his throat, when he saw what it was she was staring at.
The Endeavor.
He looked from the ship back to Elspeth, and found he couldn’t tear his eyes from her. He knew how to read people—it was what’d helped him survive captivity—and he knew that she was thinking of him.
And what she felt was sympathy. It was in the tightness of her shoulders, and the way she didn’t seem to breathe. In the tears she suppressed behind pinched lips. But rather than anger him, for once in his life, he found he welcomed the compassion. Rather than making him feel pitied or pathetic, Elspeth’s consideration warmed him.
He stepped closer in order to read her more deeply, sensing there was another emotion she held in check. In the way she held a hand to her heart, in the sadness in her eyes, he read something more powerful, more abiding.
He was humbled. Unmanned. Because he realized it was love that he read on her face.
Elspeth was aggravatingly fearless. But she was also clever and kind. Gentle, loving, and tender. And his chest swelled, knowing he couldn’t help but love her too.
She spun on her heel and walked on, and he was startled into movement, jogging to catch up. He found that he was smiling. His Elspeth was so many things, but mostly she was utterly, shockingly unpredictable.
She marched down the docks, pausing at the head of each quay to peer at the names of all the ships. Noticing that she lingered at the smaller boats, he chuckled, knowledge of her destination dawning on him.
Finally, she came to his boat, and only then did her step become hesitant. He shook his head, marveling at this sweetly shy woman. She appeared to check and double-check the name, Journeyman, painted in crimson on the burnished brown timber.
Was she coming to tell him something she’d learned at Fraser’s? Had she found evidence, or did she have other news for him?
Or was she simply coming for him?
She stood, her hand poised on the rope ladder that dangled down the side of the sloop, and glanced around to see if any would stop her. He’d let go his three crewmen to save some coin, but he’d hired a pair of dock rats to guard the boat. He spotted them, and catching their attention, he silently shooed them away. Nobody would interrupt her.
He bit his cheek not to laugh at the sight of her grabbing both hands to that ladder and stepping on, easy as you please. He waited for her to make her way up and over, giving her an extra few moments for good measure, then followed.
For a while, he stood on the top rungs, peering over, simply watching her. She walked the deck as though in a trance, running her fingers along its varnished surfaces, tracing fingertips along polished bronze cleats and rings.
The sloop had been in fine shape when he’d taken it over, and he took pride that it was in even better shape now. He kept it polished and fine, and the sight of her touching it with such loving appreciation kindled a fierce pleasure to life in his chest.
If he ever took Elspeth for a sail, he’d let her steer.
She wrapped her hands around the wheel, and her lips parted in a sort of thrall. Another, fiercer heat crackled to life in his veins. Elspeth was such a sensual creature. He wanted to experience her caresses along his body. To see her eyes go hazy at the feel of him under her fingertips.
A madness overtook him, the only thought in his mind that he must go to her. He made the final climb up and over, landing stealthily on deck.
But she disappeared from sight, reappearing at the head of the companionway steps, where she stood contemplating the deck below. She emanated such grave dignity one would’ve thought it the gallows and she Mary, Queen of Scots.
A feeling of such great affection swamped him, he stopped still in his tracks. She was as intrepid a woman as those found in any book. Sweeter and more innocent than any he’d ever known. His lust altered, and the raging torrent that’d swept him deepened to a bottomless, hot spring. Him, immersed but not adrift.
She ventured below, and then her head popped up again, looking much like an adorable wee gopher. He burst into a grin, wanting to sneak after her and surprise her. To chase her up and down those steps until he teased from her the laughter he so loved, the sound of Elspeth, joyous and free.