The Sea Sprite Page 13

  “It’s okay, lad.” The man hunkered down in front of him. “Crying a bit, is he?”

  Whit nodded. “More than a bit. I was afraid if I didn’t come topside, I’d have the whole crew after me.”

  Darcy looked over. “Whit’s tried walking Fearless and whispering to him, and still the pup cries. Have you any ideas, Gryf?”

  “Maybe he’s hungry. I’ll see what Fielding’s got in the galley.”

  A short time later he returned with a handful of crumbled beef and a small bowl of water. After some coaxing, the puppy ate every crumb, then drained the bowl.

  “Now,” Darcy said, “You and Fearless need to get out of this cold.”

  “I can’t go back to my hammock, Captain. If he starts to cry again, I just know he’ll wake Newton. And on the morrow the old man will make me take Fearless back to shore.”

  “Aye. You’re right. I’ve seen Newt after a bad night.” She thought a moment. “You can sleep in my cabin. With the door closed, the crew won’t hear if Fearless starts in wailing again.”

  The boy hung his head. “If the crew found out I spent the night with you, they’d call me a baby.”

  She took a deep breath, and calculated how many hours until dawn. “Then there’s no reason to worry. You and Fearless will have my cabin to yourselves. I was getting up now anyway. I’ve…chores to see to.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

  “Aye. Come on, now. I’ll help you get settled.”

  She led the way down the steps to her cabin. Once inside she lifted the blanket from her bunk and helped the boy climb in. She settled the blanket around him and watched as the pup curled up in his arms and closed its eyes.

  “Good night, Whit.”

  “Good night, Captain. Thank you.”

  She closed the cabin door and climbed topside, then walked to the rail and stared at the night sky.

  When she felt the warmth of a blanket enfold her, she looked up to see Gryf standing behind her.

  “I thought you’d gone back to sleep.”

  “And I thought you said you had chores to see to, Captain.”

  “I do.” She sighed. “In just a few hours.”

  “I’d guessed as much. Chores are better done in daylight. But there are still some very good ways to use the darkness.” His tone lowered seductively. “One of the best things in life is spending a pleasant night in the company of a beautiful woman.”

  “Ah.” She laughed. “I can see that you haven’t really recovered from your wounds. Your mind is still addled. For you see, the night is bitter, and the woman is—”

  “The most beautiful creature I’ve ever met.”

  She struggled against the curl of pleasure at his words. “And how would you know, since you can’t remember all the women you’ve met?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t try to argue with me, Darcy. I know a beautiful woman when I meet one.”

  The wind gusted, causing her to draw the blanket more tightly around her. “You were saying something about a pleasant night?”

  “What’s a little north wind when the company is so special?”

  “I see you’re daft as well as blind. Ah, well. How can I complain when you’re paying me compliments?” She opened the blanket. “As long as you’re sacrificing your sleep to keep me company, I think you’d better get in out of that wind.”

  “I don’t think that would be wise.”

  “And why not? You’re as cold as I am.”

  He stared at her for the space of a heartbeat, before accepting her offer and stepping close enough to wrap the blanket around his shoulders.

  “There now.” She turned toward him with a smile. “Isn’t that better?”

  “Aye.” His tone lowered. “But infinitely more dangerous.”

  At the look in his eyes she turned away to stare at the darkened water. “Why didn’t you want to tell Mistress MacInnis that we weren’t wed?”

  “And spoil all her romantic illusions? The dear sweet woman wanted us to be a family. Maybe, for a little while, she was reminded of her own youth and happiness. I didn’t see the harm.”

  “You’ve a kind heart, Gryf.” Darcy turned back to him and was startled to find his mouth inches from hers.

  Before she could draw back, his lips were pressed to hers.

  Her heart slammed against her chest. She tried to back up, but she was pinned inside the blanket. He drew it tighter, so that she was drawn firmly into the kiss.

  His hands framed her face, and he drew out the kiss until they were both struggling for breath.

  “I want you, Darcy.” He spoke the words against her mouth, sending her heart racing out of control. His dark eyes focused on hers, and he watched the flare of passion as his words sank in. “I know it isn’t wise. You’re captain of this ship, and I’m a lowly seaman, without a past or a future. But there’s no denying the attraction. And I’m tired of fighting it.”

  “I can’t…I don’t…” She put her hands to his chest to hold him at bay, and could feel the thundering of his heartbeat. It was as out of control as her own.

  “Do you deny what you feel when we touch, Darcy?”

  She swallowed. “Nay. I can’t deny it.”

  “And this.” He brushed his lips lightly over hers and felt the flare of heat all the way to his toes. “Do you feel it?”

  She had to grasp the front of his coat to remain standing. The mere touch of his mouth was enough to stagger her.

  “I know your heart belongs to another, Darcy.”

  “A-another? Who told…?” Her tone hardened. “What do you know?”

  “Only that he’s gone. And I’m here.” He kissed her again, long and slow and deep until her head was spinning, and she couldn’t form a single coherent thought. “And I’d like to stay here. Just here, holding you. Kissing you. And maybe even helping you forget every other man you’ve ever known.”

  “Gryf…” She shuddered as he brought his lips down her throat and buried them in the hollow where her heartbeat was pounding with all the fury of cannonfire.

  “You can’t deny the attraction, Darcy. Nor can you deny your reaction each time we kiss.” He ran his mouth up her throat and felt her trembling response.

  “Aye. It’s true.” She closed her eyes as he nibbled his way to her chin. “But that doesn’t mean we must give in to our feelings.”

  “Why not?” His tone was rough with need. “It’s what men and women do. And whether or not you care to admit it, it’s what you want, as well.”

  She couldn’t deny it, not when her heart was there in her throat and her blood was pounding in her temples. Why was it this man’s touch held the key to unlocking all this passion? What was it about Gryf that made her so weak, when she’d always been so strong?

  He pressed kisses to her cheek, the tip of her nose, and then to her closed eyelids, before tugging on her lobe. Against her ear he whispered fiercely, “Say the words, Darcy. Tell me you want this too.”

  She shuddered. “I want…” Oh, how she wanted. But fear had her holding back. And fear was something she’d had little of in her life. It baffled her. Puzzled her. And had her questioning her every move. “I want time. This is all happening too quickly, Gryf.”

  With an oath he stepped back, and she felt the cold seep in where only moments before heat had been.

  “I won’t pretend to be a patient man, Darcy. There’s a demon inside me, pushing me to take what I want.” His eyes narrowed. His voice lowered. “So be warned. Don’t allow yourself to be alone with me. Don’t return my kisses, unless you want what I want. And when you do, if you do, I’ll be here, waiting.”

  He turned up the collar of his coat and faced into the wind as he walked away.

  Darcy stayed where she was, watching until he’d disappeared belowdecks. Then with a sigh she wrapped the blanket around herself and turned to stare at the ribbons of moonlight trailing the blackened water.

  As a child she’d always thought of the Undaunted as a giant playgr
ound, where she could run around in circles, climb until she reached the very top of the mast, or hide where no one could ever find her. Now, suddenly, it seemed so small. No matter where she went, she was bound to bump into Gryf at every turn. And each time she did, she would feel this strange, aching need.

  So what was she going to do about this? she wondered.

  It wasn’t enough to try to evade. Not this time. He’d issued a challenge.

  And she had no idea how she would answer it.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Whit, ye thickheaded lout. Get over here now. And bring a rag.”

  At the sound of Newton’s voice, the boy sighed and looked around for his pup, who came careening across the deck, tongue lolling, tail wagging joyfully.

  The old man was swearing as he scraped something from his boot. Whit knew, without asking, what the pup had been up to. It had been the same for days. Every time Newton or one of the crew hollered, it had something to do with Fearless.

  Gryf had helped the lad to barricade a small section of the deck with some overturned benches. Then he’d lined the space with some rags, in the hope that Fearless could be taught to use just that one section for what Newton called his leavings. The only problem was, Fearless dropped his leavings any place except there.

  And, as the old man had predicted, the puppy was driven to chew everything he could sink his teeth into. The toe of a seaman’s boot. The buttons off Fielding’s coat, which had sent the cook into such a rage, he’d threatened to withhold Whit’s meals unless the lad agreed to sew them back on at once. Worse, the pup had nudged open the door to the captain’s cabin and had curled up on her bunk. Which wouldn’t have seemed so bad, if only he hadn’t chewed a hole through her blanket before taking his leave. But by far the most serious infraction had been yesterday, when Newton had discovered the puppy happily chewing through a newly mended sail, which one of the seamen had left unguarded on deck for only a moment. The old sailor had flown into a rage, and if Gryf hadn’t come to his rescue, Newton might have made good his threat to toss the pup into the ocean. It took Gryf and Whit more than an hour to repair the damage. And every time Newton looked at the patch they’d put on the sail, he got angry all over again.

  “Shark bait. That’s all he’s good for,” the old man shouted as Gryf rescued the drooling puppy and carried it back to its owner.

  Repentant, Whit hurried over to wipe down the deck, and even offered to clean Newton’s boots, but the old man turned away with a snarl.

  With a look of dejection, Whit walked over to where Gryf stood holding Fearless.

  “Here, lad.” Gryf handed Whit the puppy and a length of knotted rope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Something for Fearless to chew on. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll see that he’s confined for the rest of the afternoon, until Newt has a chance to calm down.”

  “Aye. But how can I confine him? Captain Lambert won’t let him stay in her cabin anymore. And every time I try to keep him in his corner, he just jumps clear of the barriers.”

  “Then I suggest you try tying him up.” Seeing the lad’s sad face he softened his tone. “It isn’t cruel, Whit. It’s kind. He’s a baby. He needs you to set limits. Make him a bed, and see that he stays in it for a while. Give him the rope to chew on, so that he has something to occupy his quiet time. He’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’m afraid if he doesn’t settle down pretty soon, someone will toss him overboard when I’m not looking.”

  Gryf chuckled as the boy walked away carrying the pup. For all the complaints about the presence of a dog aboard ship, they’d already seen considerable progress. Fearless was able to sleep through the night without whimpering, curled up in Whit’s arms in the hammock. After being stepped on and bumped, he’d learned to keep out of the way of the seamen as they swabbed the deck or hauled cargo to the hold. And he’d stopped barking frantically whenever Whit climbed the rigging, though he still danced in gleeful circles whenever the lad returned to the deck.

  And for all the crew’s grumbling, Gryf had seen the cook, Fielding, slip Fearless scraps of meat from the galley when he thought no one was looking. The rest of the crew occasionally laughed at the dog’s antics, especially when he slipped and slid across the rain-slicked deck. During the course of the day several of the seamen could be seen pausing in their duties to bend and scratch behind the pup’s ear. And Darcy was teaching Fearless to sit up and offer a paw, in return for a treat.

  Newton, however, hadn’t softened at all toward the puppy. In fact, with each day, the old man seemed ever more determined to harden his heart against this fuzzy intruder. If he could, he’d even blame Fearless for the weather, which had taken a turn for the worse.

  The wind out of the north stung the eyes and lashed the skin. Some mornings the deck was layered with a coat of ice, making walking from one side to the other impossible until a thin winter sun sent it washing over the sides of the ship in frosty rivers. The waters of the Atlantic were as dark as the storm clouds that rolled overhead.

  Darcy made her way down the rigging and hurried to Newton’s side. “There’s no land in sight yet, Newt. It’s been days.”

  “Aye, lass.” He stared out at the angry waves. “And it could be a few days more. I’m thinking, since we’ve delivered the last of our cargo, that we ought to give some thought to heading back to Cornwall, instead of going on.”

  Home. The thought of it brought such a wave of homesickness, she had to close her eyes against the pain.

  Her voice was dreamy. “I suppose we could. I went over the ledgers last night. We’ve made enough to pay the crew, and still show a profit. Our last delivery, to the Western Isles of Scotland, was by far our best yet.”

  “And well it ought. There aren’t many ships’ captains who would permit that much timber to be loaded in the hold when the seas are this rough. I thought we’d surely sink before we made land again. Especially when we sailed into that storm off the coast of Shetland.”

  “But we made it, Newt. And a fortune, as well.”

  “Aye.” For the first time in days the old man smiled. “Ye drive a hard bargain, lass. I watched the harbormaster’s face growing more purple with every one of ye’r demands, and thought ye’d bargained ye’rself right out of a job.”

  She grinned. “There was nobody else willing to haul that timber, and we both knew it.”

  He shook his head. “Maybe. But ye had me worried there for a moment. I thought we’d lost that cargo for sure.” He waited for the space of several moments, hoping to keep his tone casual. “So. Will I be giving the order to turn the ship around and head for home?”

  She needed only a moment to consider. “Aye, Newt. Give the order.”

  Now his smile came. Quick and bright. “Ye’ll not regret it, lass.”

  As he walked away, shouting orders, Darcy turned to the rail and stared down into the foam left in their wake. She’d let Newton believe they were returning home because she’d made enough money to show a profit. And that was partly true. They did have money in their coffers. But the real reason she had decided to end this voyage was standing at the wheel, steering the ship at this very moment.

  Try as she might, the confines of the Undaunted made it impossible for her to escape Gryf. No matter where she went, she could feel him watching her. Even her cabin offered no refuge. The image of him crept unbidden into her dreams. Visions of him holding her, kissing her and tempting her with forbidden pleasures, were driving her to distraction.

  She needed to go home. To feel the love and warmth of her family. She craved her grandfather’s humor, the common sense of their housekeeper and the sweetness of her old nurse. Perhaps she’d even seek the wise counsel of her sisters. After all, they’d faced these same temptations with the men they’d married. They would know what she ought to do.

  Aye. The smile came finally, as she put her worries behind her. She wouldn’t give Gryf another thought until she�
�d had time to lay all this before the people who loved her. Together they’d chart the proper course. Together. Her smile grew.

  “Gryf says we’re heading to Cornwall.” Whit looked over at the captain.

  The crew had gathered belowdecks to eat and to escape the bitter weather. Only Newton and a couple of sailors remained on deck.

  Darcy nodded and drew closer to the heat of the brazier. Despite the gloves she’d worn while steering the ship, her hands were nearly frozen. “I think we’ll all be happier when we can put into port. At least until spring.”

  “Is Cornwall your home?” the lad asked.

  “Aye.” Darcy nibbled a crust of bread, washing it down with hot tea. She could feel Gryf watching her. The very thought of it brought color to her cheeks. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t give him another thought. But he was constantly on her mind. Tiptoeing across her heart.

  “What’s it like in Cornwall?” the boy persisted.

  “It’s lovely and green in summer, the meadows strewn with wildflowers. There are flocks of sheep on the hillsides.” Seeing Whit’s interest sharpen, she leaned back, smiling. “Our village, Land’s End, is rather wild and primitive, with huge boulders along the shore.” She closed her eyes a moment, seeing it in her mind. “When I was a little girl, I thought that giants had walked across the land, tossing boulders like pebbles in the sand.”

  The boy smiled at the image.

  “Our home, MaryCastle, is built on a finger of land that juts into the Atlantic. My father built it for my mother so that she could watch for his ship whenever he went off to sea. There are those in the village who refer to it as Lambert’s Folly. But Papa knew what he was doing.” She gave a little laugh. “Oh, it was just the finest place to grow up. We never tired of swimming and sailing and playing along the shore.”

  Whit’s eyes were round with interest. He idly petted the pup who lay snuggled on his lap, dozing. “Did you know, even then, that some day you’d grow up to be a ship’s captain?”

  “Nay.” Her eyes clouded for a moment. “That was to be a privilege reserved only for my brother, James. He began sailing with Papa when he was only ten and two. But when James and Papa were lost at sea, my sisters and I made a pact to carry on.”