Love and Adventure Collection - Part 1 (Love and Adventure Boxed Sets) Read online

  A soft tapping at the door brought her head up. She hesitated an instant, then moved to stand behind the panel “Who is it?”

  “It is I, Marcel,” came the low voice, almost a whisper, of the Frenchman. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

  “I — was just going to bed,” she told him.

  “I will not keep you long from your slumbers.”

  Reluctantly, she lifted the latch and drew the door open. Marcel de Gruys pushed inside. Before he shut the panel behind him, she could hear the sound of O’Toole’s concertina coming from the saloon. Above it, his rich tenor was raised in a bawdy sea ballad.

  Taking a few paces into the tiny cabin, Julia turned to face Marcel. “Well?” she inquired with the lift of winged brows above the amber pools of her eyes.

  “I fear, Julia ma chère, that you have tried to deceive me,” he said, allowing himself a smile as he stood with his back to the door. “You do not appear to be prepared for bed.”

  “No. I would not have let you in, else,” she said, her voice cool. “May I know what has brought you that would not wait until morning?”

  “Such impatience,” he murmured, moving toward her. “I wonder how you will survive being imprisoned.”

  “Imprisoned?” she asked quickly, the importance of what he was saying overcoming her momentary alarm at his change of attitude.

  “But yes, has Captain Thorpe not told you? You are to be mewed up on the Sea Jade while she is in London harbor, kept here in your cabin to await his pleasure.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said, allowing a trace of scorn to color her tone.

  “Do you not? I have it from the captain himself. You will never set foot on English soil. I will wager that by the time the good captain’s business in England is settled you will not speak so calmly of making ready for bed.”

  Julia turned away from him. “You are very free with your language this evening.”

  “I am only trying to make plain to you the danger in which you stand.”

  “For what purpose? You, do have a purpose?”

  The disbelief in her tone brought a flush to his face. “Naturally. I have come to offer you my protection, my name. Since the objection to your being at liberty is the lack of a companion, to guard you from accidentally betraying the cause, or from falling prey to those who might seek to cultivate you for the sake of discovering what you may know, then I propose to offer myself in that role.”

  “You wish to be my companion?” She allowed a small smile to curve her mouth.

  “If you would have it so. I rather expected that you would prefer to become my wife.”

  “I see,” she murmured. “And, you do this, I am to assume, purely out of compassion for me, to prevent me from being imprisoned aboard this ship?”

  “Not entirely,” he replied, easing closer. “You are a beautiful woman, beautiful enough to fire the blood of any man. I had not thought to rush my suit in this way, but I believe it would have come to this in any case.”

  “You believe? Aren’t you certain?”

  “I am certain of my own heart. Given time I might have waited for some sign of your feelings, some encouragement, before proceeding.”

  She swung around to fling him a look of scorn. “And, you would have waited also, I don’t doubt, for a more exact accounting of my inheritance!”

  “I protest, what have I ever done to give you such a poor opinion of me?”

  So certain was he of himself that her words scarcely ruffled the surface of his assurance. His prominent eyes darkened as his gaze rested on the quick rise and fall of her breasts. He was much too close in the confined space of the cabin, but to retreat would be to allow him to come between her and the door.

  “Suffice it to say I have it,” she said, nervousness adding a sharp edge to her voice. “It is impossible that there could be anything between us.”

  “Impossible? Never say so. I cannot accept so final an answer without good reason.” He reached out to take her arm in a light clasp, brushing his thumb over the silken surface of her skin.

  “Don’t!” she exclaimed, jerking her arm away, stepping back until she touched the edge of her bunk.

  A trace of anger made his smile tight as he followed her. “Gently, dearest Julia. Don’t shy away like a frightened doe from what you don’t understand. You might discover you like being near a man.”

  His smooth fingers touched her jawline and moved lower to press against the pulse that throbbed in her throat. She swallowed, aware with every taut-stretched nerve that to repudiate him too harshly might bring a violent reaction, and yet, she could not do nothing. His practiced caress was just as great a danger.

  He laughed softly. “You are trembling, my sweet Julia, and your eyes, they grow enormous.”

  Her voice low, she said, “If you do not go now, this moment, I will scream.”

  “I think not. Consider the embarrassment for both of us, the questions and sly remarks. You would not like that. Sailors are an earthy lot. Perhaps, they will not blame me, perhaps, they will wonder aloud what encouraged me to think I might take liberties?” His fingers dropped lower, to the soft curves at the round neckline of her gown.

  Abruptly, she slapped his hand away, lunging under his arm for the door. She twisted the knob, opening it a crack before he was upon her, slamming it shut once more.

  “Let me go,” she panted, struggling against the arm which pressed her elbows to her sides. She was wrenched around to face him, her wrists caught in a swordsman’s iron grip.

  “Not yet,” he told her, a ferocious smile drawing his lips away from his teeth.

  An instant later a knock sounded on the door. “Mademoiselle Dupré?”

  It was the voice of Jeremy Free. Marcel released her and stepped back, straightening his clothing with precision. Automatically, Julia did the same, even touching a hand to her hair.

  “Yes?”

  There was a pause on the other side of the door as though the first mate suspected something was amiss. At last, he spoke. “Captain Thorpe’s compliments, mademoiselle. He regrets disturbing you, but requests a few words with you in his cabin at your earliest convenience.”

  “Thank you, I will be only a moment,” she replied.

  “Very good.”

  Marcel waited until the footsteps of the first mate had receded, then came forward, an expression very near triumph lighting his dark eyes. “You did not give me away,” he murmured. “Think carefully on why you kept silent, and also on my proposal. We will talk again — soon.”

  “I did not betray you because I did not want to cause an uproar,” she said, her face flushed with anger, “but if you come into my cabin again, I will kill you.”

  “Such passion,” he told her, “can have only one cause.”

  “You are mad!” she cried, but he had slipped out of the door and was gone.

  By the time she had repositioned the gold bee at her throat and smoothed wisps of hair back into the chignon low on the nape of her neck, the color had faded from her face, leaving it pale. Pushing the incident with Marcel from her mind with determination, she left her cabin and walked the few steps to that of Captain Thorpe.

  “Come,” he called in reply to her knock. At her entrance, he got to his feet, moving from behind a medium-size oaken desk, which was fastened to the floor, to show her to a chair.

  When he had seated himself again, she moistened her lips. “You sent for me, captain?”

  “Yes,” he said, picking up a pen made of a seagull’s wing feather and drawing it through his fingers. “The bulkheads on this ship allow a certain amount of sound to carry. I could not help being aware you had a visitor. I trust my intervention was not untimely?”

  Julia flicked a quick glance at his impassive face, her fingers tightening upon each other in her lap. After a moment, she answered simply, “No.”

  “Good,” he said, tossing the pen aside. “I have known since your father’s death that I was going to have to speak privatel
y with you. Tonight seemed as good a time as any.”

  She murmured an agreement. Now that she was still, she was aware of a shaken sensation under her ribs. Never in her life had a man laid a hand on her in violence. She must not think of it, however — not now.

  “I realize what the loss of your father must mean to you in a personal sense, and we all respect your bereavement. But, I wonder if you have considered the effect his death has had on the expedition.”

  If she chose, she could save him a great deal of trouble in leading up to his plans for her. She did not choose. “I don’t see that anything has changed,” she said.

  “You realize that we are too far advanced in our timetable to turn about and carry you back to New Orleans?” At her nod, he went on. “Willy-nilly, you must go on to England. Once there, you will be alone, on your own for some weeks until the East Indiaman carrying M’sieu Robeaud to St. Helena is ready to sail. That, let me be frank, is a dangerous state for a young, attractive woman.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Your concern does you credit, captain. However, I believe I can manage for myself.”

  “The stews of London, the cribs and brothels, are filled with women who thought they could manage for themselves.”

  “Really, captain! There must be some respectable hotel that will take me, some agency which will provide a maid or some elderly woman to go about with me and lend me the proper degree of consequence.”

  “Such a thing might be arranged if you had the money,” he agreed.

  “Well?”

  Captain Thorpe got to his feet and moved around the desk to sit on one corner. In the light of the swinging lantern, the mahogany planes of his face were angular, as if they had been carved from some exotic wood. He towered above her, making her acutely uncomfortable as he stared at her through narrowed eyes.

  “Mademoiselle Dupré, did it ever occur to you to wonder where your father found the money to finance this expedition?”

  “He — he never discussed such matters with me, but he was not a poor man. And, of course several others contributed.”

  “No one contributed as much as Charles Dupré. The donation of the others, taken all together, amounted to less than half. To obtain the necessary amount, your father mortgaged his holdings, everything he owned.”

  “I — see,” she said slowly. She might have guessed, remembering the busyness her father had displayed in the days before they left. Plantation owners, for all the value of their estates, were seldom able to command large amounts of ready cash. The vast majority of their transactions from year to year were made by the transfer of credit.

  Captain Thorpe was speaking again. “I am sure your father expected to be reimbursed when Napoleon returns to power, but in the meantime, you are in an awkward position. Under the circumstances, it is doubtful that his bankers will be willing to advance anything more against the estate. Considering the risk involved in repayment of the loan your father made, you may find that his bankers will foreclose in order to protect themselves when news of M’sieu Dupré’s death reaches New Orleans.”

  “What you are trying to say is that I am not only alone, but penniless.”

  “Naturally, I am not informed as to the exact state of your father’s finances—”

  “The purse taken by his murderers contained every penny, every picayune, he had brought with him. Except for some small change I had with me at the time, I am indeed penniless.” The moment the words were said Julia regretted them. He might have guessed at her lack of resources, but he could not have been certain if she had remained silent. It was just that the shock of the knowledge was so great. She had no money. She was poor. No matter how she phrased it to herself, the words seemed to make no impression on her numb mind.

  “Can I get you something?” Captain Thorpe was saying. “A glass of wine? A drink of water?”

  Julia shook her head. Poor Papa. This must have been what he was trying to tell her before he died. How distressed he must have been to know that he was leaving her in such straits. Tears pressed achingly against the back of her throat, but she forced them down.

  The captain slid off the desk and went to stand at the porthole, staring out into the blackness of the heaving sea. Julia watched him covertly from the corner of her eye, noting the crisp way his hair curled on the nape of his neck and the hard muscled width of his shoulders beneath his uniform jacket. The things that Marcel had hinted at came back to her. It was impossible, she told herself. The self-possessed captain of the Sea Jade had no designs upon her, no nefarious reasons for wishing to keep her a prisoner aboard his ship.

  He turned to face her, propping his shoulders against the wall a little as though he needed to put as much distance as possible between them. “The question is, what are you to do? What would you prefer to do?”

  “I take it that the arrangement my father made included our passage out to St. Helena with M’sieu Robeaud when he goes?”

  He inclined his head in assent.

  “Then, I see no alternative but to proceed. If my father expected to recoup his losses by applying to the emperor, then he must have had good reason. I can only do the same.”

  “And, if the attempt to release the emperor fails?”

  “Then, my losses will be nearly as great as Napoleon’s, won’t they?” she said with a smile for such an unlikely eventuality.

  “You have relatives in New Orleans, someone you could go to if the worst happens?” he asked, a frown between his heavy brows.

  “No,” she answered, lifting her chin in a proud gesture. “My mother was an orphan, the child of German immigrants who died of fever a few months after coming to Louisiana. My father’s people did not approve of his marriage to one they called an americaine, and he was cast off. They would not acknowledge me when I was affluent; they certainly would not recognize me if I appeared on their doorstep with nothing. One or two of my father’s friends might help me, such as General Montignac, but most either keep bachelor establishments or live with their married children. I could not burden them with my problems.”

  “Out of pride, or from concern for the extra expense they must bear?” he asked.

  Though she failed to see the reason for the question, she answered readily enough. “Both, I suppose.”

  He nodded as if she had confirmed something for him. When he spoke again, it was to take a new tack. “You realize that the place held by your father aboard the Indiaman will now fall vacant? The more I consider it, the more necessary it appears that Robeaud have companions on his journey. It is not that I doubt his stomach for the task, but he is a sick man. What would happen if his illness should need treatment? What might he not let fall if he should become feverish, even delirious? Even if it could be arranged for you to travel alone, you would not be able to attend him, and de Gruys, I’m sure, could not be depended on to turn a hand.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  As he glanced at her, she thought she saw a flicker of indecision in his deep-blue eyes. An instant later, it was gone. “I am suggesting that I take your father’s place. Jeremy can take charge of the Sea Jade on the run to Rio, where we will rendezvous and transfer once more to this ship.”

  “Yes, I can see the advantage of that,” she said after a moment’s consideration.

  “Good. Can you also see the necessity for a certain — intimacy between the members of our party, an intimacy which in my case, since I am neither American nor of French ancestry, can only be explained by a close association with one of you?”

  “A — close association, captain?”

  “Such as marriage, Mademoiselle Dupré.”

  For the space of half a minute, she could not speak.

  “Are you suggesting—? You must be mad!”

  “Not at all. I have thought this through with great care, and I assure you the proposal was not lightly made.”

  “But — but, surely something less drastic would serve as well?”

  “You have in mind the role of infa
tuated suitor or a fiancé?” he asked, a grim smile tugging at one corner of his firm mouth. “I don’t think so. That kind of thing draws attention, causes speculation among the other passengers, besides limiting the time when we could have speech together to the daylight hours. In addition, you would almost certainly have to share a cabin with another female on the Indiaman, making it well-nigh impossible for you to make a move without some busybody knowing about it. And then, there is the question of Robeaud. A married woman could, with her husband’s permission and presence, help ease a sick man’s pain, but not a young single lady.”

  “You certainly seem to have thought of everything,” she told him. “But are you certain there is not another reason you have failed to mention? Are you certain you are not afraid I will feel the need to unburden my maidenly breast to this female who is to share my cabin? Are you positive you are not doing this because you are still afraid I will betray you?”

  He straightened, a small frown between his eyes as he surveyed her flushed face. “These things must be taken into account also,” he said finally.

  “So, you do not deny it?” she demanded.

  “No.”

  She would never have believed a gallant denial, so why she was nonplused at his answer she could not understand. Perhaps, she had hoped for some explanation that would make his attitude seem more reasonable. Obviously, none would be forthcoming. It was disconcerting to find her anger overlaid by disappointment.

  Speaking with measured slowness, she asked, “Is there no way I can convince you that I am to be trusted?”

  “It’s not a question of trust,” he said, flinging out one hand in an impatient gesture. “It is simply that you may unwittingly give someone more information than you realize.”

  “A question of intelligence, then, I take it!”

  “Take it how you will,” he grated. Moving to the desk, he flung himself into the chair and faced her with the width of the polished surface between them. “You have two choices in this situation. The one we have just discussed, and one other. This second is to remain on board the Sea Jade while she is at the London docks. I give you my word that you will be perfectly safe and comfortable. Then, when she sails for Rio de Janeiro, you will be with her, remaining aboard until Napoleon arrives.”