“Do you need money for passage?”

“No, but I hope you’ll take us with you to England the next time you sail there.”

He should have just told her the truth, that he didn’t allow women aboard his ship unless they occupied his bed. Instead he’d lied and told her he had no immediate plans to return to England when in fact he was heading back to the homeland the next day to settle his score with Nicholas Eden.

“I was taken with her,” James said to Conrad now. “She certainly was beautiful. And I was tempted, but she tugged at something else in me that made me want to help her instead of seducing her. She was so bloody melancholy, yet so gracious.”

“But you did help her.”

“Not really. I told her I’d get both her and her son to a ship that would take them to England. She came to the house the next day to get that help, but the boy bolted, and I saw bruises on her arms this time. I bloody well wasn’t going to leave her there for more abuse. So I insisted she come with me and wait in Port Antonio, where we dropped her off. I promised that when I returned, I would help her get the boy away from his father. But Eden and then George proved too much of a distraction. I never did get back to Jamaica to help her.”

“You tried your best. She was a woman of some means. No doubt she made other arrangements, might even have returned to England alone to get her parents’ help in retrieving the boy.”

“Her husband, Cyril, might have been something of a wastrel, but from the few times I saw him in the fields with his son, I could see they obviously shared a closeness. So the lad wouldn’t have come to harm before she could fetch him away from there.” Then James rolled his eyes. “I haven’t thought of her in ages. But I wish I’d kept my promise.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

JACK OPENED HER EYES but didn’t bother to get out of bed because she couldn’t bear to spend yet another boring day practically by herself in the cabin. Although Damon had given her books four days ago, they weren’t helping to distract her when she’d already read most of them.

Five trunks filled with clothes, soaps, and other amenities had been delivered that day she had her first bath. She’d been both delighted and furious that Damon had planned so well for her kidnapping that he’d even bought a wardrobe for her. Unless he’d stolen it. That was more likely. And she never did thank him. And he’d never explained further what he’d meant when he said Lacross was working for him even though she’d asked several times. Had he been lying? Bragging?

She hadn’t seen a lot of Bastard, whom she’d got in the habit of calling Damon in the last four days, either, except to help change his bandage. She had started to enjoy that intimate contact with him, though she’d never let him know it. But the rough seas they’d encountered kept him at the wheel so much, a few nights he hadn’t even gotten back to the cabin for his dinner, and when he did, he was too tired for conversation. She’d asked why he didn’t have more men capable of manning the wheel, but he’d fallen asleep before she got an answer. Even Mortimer had abandoned her, moving out of the cabin three nights ago, so she couldn’t question him, either.

Damon still wasn’t letting her see Jeremy, but was allowing them to send notes to each other. She was grateful—and for this she thanked Damon. But she didn’t trust him not to read the notes so she’d decided to make them cryptic, and to use phrases and references that only Jeremy would understand. She knew her brother had caught on when in her first note she’d asked him if he looked like Tony after a round at Knighton’s or like Boyd. Unfortunately, he’d answered, Like Boyd, which meant he had at least one injury that was going to be slow to heal. Then Jeremy suggested she do what Reggie would do to get Nick to attend a ball with her. She’d laughed at that one, but didn’t think her brother was really encouraging her to seduce the captain . . . well, at least not physically. But their cousin Reggie did use her feminine charms when she wanted to change her husband’s mind about something, so Jacqueline got the idea. Damon had even suggested she try seduction. Did all men think alike?

Considering that Damon did confirm an association with Lacross, even though he’d been utterly vague about it, she let Jeremy know by writing, Gabby and Drew once met our greatest enemy, so he’d know Damon had confirmed it. Jeremy’s reply to that was Wish I had a knife so I could start sharpening it.

Other than the notes, the only interesting things happening were the strong winds making the ship speed through the ocean, and the few times she’d heard sounds of arguing outside the cabin. Mortimer broke up one of those disagreements; Damon broke up another. It was a bit unnerving because it had sounded as if the pirates were trying to get inside the cabin. She’d quickly latched the door until it was quiet out there again.

But this morning, her seventh at sea, yet another argument started outside the cabin just as she was finishing her breakfast, and it sounded like a particularly nasty scuffle. Someone or something was thrown so hard against the wall that even her empty plate rattled on the table. Damon entered the cabin a few moments later, looking disheveled and angry.

“Let’s go!” he ordered. She was too confused to move immediately, so he came over and took her hand. “I’ve decided to keep you at my side. It’s the safest place for you.”

Safe from what? But she was being pulled along with him out of the cabin, so she couldn’t ask yet. She saw blood on the deck, not much, but it alarmed her. He didn’t stop until he was at the unmanned wheel and turned it sharply to get them back on course.

He’d placed her in front of him, between him and the wheel. She could feel his chest against her back, though the physical contact didn’t seem deliberate and was gone as soon as he was done turning the wheel. But he was still holding the wheel, which left his arms on both sides of her.

Jacqueline’s grin showed up immediately. Freedom from that damned cabin—did she care why or that she had to share it with him? And she hadn’t needed to make any concessions for it. Wind and sun on her face, the wheel in front of her, barefoot and in britches, this was such familiar territory for her that she didn’t need to wonder why she was suddenly so happy.

She watched some of the crew working or loitering on deck. She’d seen nothing of this ship before, except to watch it sail away from St. Kitts. She didn’t even know if it was the same ship.