Bound by Decency Read online

  He looked away. Shouldering past a seaman, he shoved through the heavy door that opened onto his private hall. At his cabin, he halted. India presented a more bothersome encounter than even Drake’s anger. Her deceit, her games, only made his head ache. He turned around and descended the main stairs into the crewmen’s deck below. Food would do his mind well. He hadn’t eaten since dawn the previous morning. On a full belly, he could confront both Drake and India.

  Winding through rough-hewn tables, he made his way to the cook’s room and pounded on the timbers that supported the open doorframe. The scent of his favorite fish soup permeated the air. His stomach rumbled greedily. “Cleaver, hand me a bowl of that tarpon stew.”

  The cook gestured a three-fingered hand at a large boiling pot. “Ain’t ready, Cap’n. All’s I gots is last night’s doughboys.”

  Cain considered the lumpy, soggy leftovers of dumplings soaked in pork broth before he let out a disappointed sigh. Warm, the fare left little to desire. Warmed-over, it could scarce be called edible. His belly, however, demanded sustenance, no matter the type. “Very well. Throw a scrap of jerk on there too.” At least the salted pork would add flavor to the floury lumps.

  Juggling his signature knife in one hand, Cleaver ladled out a generous portion. He tossed three thick slices of meat onto a plate, then passed them both to Cain. “Here ye be. Don’t let me hear ye complainin’ none.”

  Cain took his meager meal to a long table and dropped into a sturdy chair. As he picked up his spoon, footsteps entered at his back.

  “What in the seven hells was that about, Cain?”

  Drake’s gravelly voice washed over Cain like buckets of ice. He dropped his spoon into the runny soup and leaned back in his chair with a mutter. “Can’t you see I’m about to eat?”

  A scarred fist slammed into the table near Cain’s elbow. “I don’t give one single damn about your belly. My men agreed to aid your cause. They did not sign on to turn tail from a nonexistent threat.”

  Anger simmered through Cain’s veins. He narrowed his gaze, meeting Drake’s baleful glower. “Last I knew, I was captain here.”

  “Last I knew, the man I called friend was no coward.” Challenge gleamed behind dark grey eyes.

  In no mood to fight with one of the few persons he could consider ally, Cain dropped his head to the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Through clenched teeth he asked, “Have you forgotten His Majesty’s ships do not tend to sail alone?” He opened his eyes and pinned Drake with a hard stare. “Have you become so accustomed to the simple spoils off the Bahamas that you cannot remember a ship of the line, stays with the line, unless they seek to bait and sink?”

  Drake’s jaw worked in a fit of temper. But as silence settled around them, heavy and oppressive, the harsh glint in his eyes softened. He pushed his long unruly hair away from his face and lowered himself into the chair opposite Cain. “’Tis true I’ve come to take risks more often than not. But I didn’t save your sorry arse to become the laughin’ stock of my company. Tell me, Cain, what’s amiss with you? Did you grow to like a simple merchant’s life as Teddy?”

  Two years ago, had anyone asked Cain the same, he would have laughed in their face. Yet now, when he couldn’t sail the sea without looking over his shoulder, he craved what he had lost. He’d come so close to finding decency, to obtaining a worthy place within this world. To the life he hadn’t even realized he longed for.

  Now, he had nothing but a past.

  His appetite spoiled, Cain pushed the bowl aside. “I have confessions to gain from Miss Prescott and a traitor to hunt down.”

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” A solitary golden hoop earring glinted as Drake cocked his head. “Can’t say as I blame you—you had the freedom of a rover and the security of lawfulness. We let you be, didn’t often trouble our former brother. There’s no shame in admittin’ you wish things otherwise.”

  Uncomfortable with Drake’s keen perception, Cain rose to his feet. “I won’t find Richard any faster by sitting here flapping my maw with you.”

  As he stepped past the table, Drake’s arm shot out. Strong fingers dug into Cain’s forearm. “What are you doin’ with the girl? I agreed to help you capture her. But the men mumble. The lackeys seem to think they’re deservin’ of the little chit.”

  Cain shook off Drake’s grip. “I’ve yet to decide. She claims ignorance. I gave her this morn’ to think about it.” He looked over Drake’s head at the distant stairs, his mouth pursed. He couldn’t keep India aboard forever, and truth to tell he hadn’t particularly given thought to what he’d do with her once he learned Richard’s whereabouts. He didn’t dare risk the British coast again—certainly not after William Prescott learned of her kidnapping. Nor could he deposit her in the colony across the ocean. Dropping her over the rails would be the simplest solution, but he didn’t have it in him to kill a woman.

  He frowned. Not a man aboard would understand that logic. If they heard him make mention he couldn’t stomach the though of bringing harm to India, they’d throw him over. He dropped his gaze to Drake’s. “We’ll take her to Nassau and leave her with Old Bess.” With a few words to the regal madam, Cain could insure India found safe passage to England. Another tidbit he didn’t intend to share. He would have laughed had he heard a rover utter such nonsense.

  To better cover his despicable decency he added, “She can teach India how to…survive. Tell the men if they wish to have her, they will have to pay Old Bess’ price.” Which he would see that Old Bess set so high no man, save a king, could afford.

  Amusement turned up the corners of Drake’s mouth. He chuckled low, shook his head. “Perhaps there’s a bit of Cain left in you yet. Only he would take a lady and turn her into a whore.”

  Unable to resist a chance at goading Drake, Cain replied, “She will not be the first dove I have soiled. At least the ladies will have me.”

  At the subtle insult to Drake’s long-time lover, Drake grunted. “I prefer a bit less virginal propriety.”

  “Aye, you prefer the risk you might wake with a knife in your side.”

  Relieved he’d satisfied Drake’s interest in his intentions, Cain left Drake to splutter for a retort. He mounted the stairs once more and turned for his cabin. This time, he wouldn’t be deterred. India would give him answers, or he would do as he promised and bind her in ropes. A bit of time in The Kraken’s belly, with the stench of bilge to fill her nostrils, would bring a swift recovery to her memory.

  He let himself inside to confront the same chilly rush of air flowing from his windows as before. India huddled on the floor, her back against his bed. He stalked across the room. “God’s teeth, you’ll give us all the sickness. We have yet to reach warm waters.”

  A soft moan answered his lecture.

  He glanced down at her with a frown. She pulled the sodden blanket about her tighter and shivered. So she sought to feign illness, did she? Another trick that wouldn’t work. “I warned you not to play me for a fool.” He closed a second window. “You’ve been raised with ships. I don’t believe this game of illness. Have you gained your memory?”

  “Please…” She wet her lips with a tantalizing sweep of her tongue. “I don’t know.”

  Cain turned from the closed windows, leaned a hip against his desk, and folded his arms across his chest. “I grow weary of this constant circle. Tell me now, India, else I’ll find those ropes.”

  She answered with a shake of her head. “The windows. Please…” Another shudder rolled down her spine, and she shrunk back against the heavy bed frame.

  It was then Cain noticed the lingering stench in the air. He sniffed, wrinkled his nose. His gaze slid down India’s slender shoulders to the floor. There, tucked beside his bed, sat the chamber pot he’d dumped the night before. The odor came from the greenish bile within. Blast it all, she wasn’t fooling.

  351

  Bound By Decency

  4

  A foreign pang of guilt tugged at Cain. He hadn’t even con
sidered sea travel might not sit well with India. With her upbringing, he’d assumed that at some point in her life she’d traveled on the vessels her father owned. Damn it all, she should have developed a stomach for the ocean. And he should have put more thought into this rapidly crumbling plan.

  He rushed to India’s soggy, crumpled form and peeled the blanket away. A low groan passed through her parted lips as he slipped his hands beneath her and lifted her into his arms. Her palm flattened against his chest. In a hoarse whisper, she protested, “Put me down.”

  “Hush,” he grumbled.

  She sank against him as if the last of whatever energy she possessed drained away. Her head lolled into his shoulder. Through his light shirt, the heat of her skin burned into his. A frown pulled at his brows as he slid her into the bed and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. “Hell’s toenails, you’ve gone and given yourself the fever with those windows.”

  Or he had, by not offering her dry clothing.

  He clenched his teeth. This was yet another reason he had not fallen into Drake’s habit of keeping women aboard his ship. While they might not be the harbingers of disaster other men proclaimed, they were simply too much damn trouble.

  His frown intensified as he stepped back and surveyed her pale features, her trembling limbs. Were she a man, he’d stow her below decks with Stuart as her nurse. But below decks left her unprotected, and though the bosun attended his responsibilities well, he was quick of hand and slick with words. Cain would no more allow Stuart in his cabin with his possessions than he would willingly stand before a firing cannon.

  Reggie would have to do. As Drake’s most valued seaman, Reggie could be trusted. Not to mention the gunner’s slight build made Reggie’s footlocker the perfect place to find India a set of clothes.

  Cain tossed a light coverlet over India and strode from the room. He stormed onto the main decks and scanned the rugged men for Drake. Spying him near the rigging at the main mast, Cain wove his way to Drake’s side. “We have a problem.”

  “Aye, I do so say.” Drake bent over and picked up a length of frayed rope. With a knife, he cut away the worthless bits and stuffed the clean end into a jug of tar. “Have you heard the rumblings from below as well?”

  Rumblings from below? Cain cocked an eyebrow. “No.”

  Drake’s solitary earring glinted as he laughed. “Probably best. Reggie has your gunners in a fit. It seems your cannons are full of grime.”

  Cain resisted the urge to groan. He had wondered how replacing his former master gunner with Reggie would be received. Though Drake supplied the majority of the crew, the gunners remained Cain’s, and his men were not accustomed to spotless muzzles and neat stacks of ammunition. Reggie, on the contrary, demanded order.

  “Well, they will have a respite. I need Reggie in the cabin. Miss Prescott has taken ill.”

  Drake’s laughter grew louder. He shook his head, grey eyes agleam with amusement. “You’ll not get Reggie to act as nursemaid.”

  “India will need fresh clothes, a tonic to ease her nausea, and an attendant. Tell Reggie it is not a request, but an order.”

  A smirk tugged at Drake’s mouth. “Defiance is the scamp’s best quality. I’ll bring your clothes. You’ll not get a maid.” Still chuckling to himself, Drake shouldered past Cain.

  Cain clenched one hand into a fist and once again cursed the decision to join forces with Drake. If it weren’t for the necessity to possess a crew unaffected by the superstitions of women aboard a ship, he would have pulled men off the docks and demanded their service at gunpoint to fill the holes in his usual crew. But men who felt no loyalty were apt to munity, and Cain could not chance being marooned by his own mates.

  On a harassed sigh, he stalked toward the doors to his hallway and leaned against the wall. A low bell marked the beginning of another shift, and a herd of feet echoed up the adjoining stairs. Men pushed onto the decks to relieve those who toiled through the morning. Hearty greetings rang out. Laughter rumbled on the heels of brotherly insults.

  As the retreating crew disappeared into the stairwell, grumbling about empty bellies and parched throats, Drake reappeared. He thrust a pair of trousers and a loose white shirt into Cain’s hands. “Reggie has but one pair of boots and refuses to part with them.”

  “Did you relay my order?”

  “Aye.” Drake grinned. “As I expected, it was refused. The state of your cannons is of greater concern.”

  “Tell that belligerent scoundrel, the next time I see slight shoulders on my decks, I’ll string them from the yardarms.” Cain backed through the door to the sound of Drake’s rich laughter.

  He kicked the door shut with his heel. How he was to manage the crew and attend a sickly woman, he couldn’t imagine. Yet with no alternative present, he had no choice but to assume the duty. India was the key to finding Richard. If he lost her to illness, God only knew how long he might search the sea. As it was, every passing day gave Richard time to plan another strike and take Cain by surprise.

  Which was, quite frankly, the driving factor that pushed him into accepting Drake’s offer of aid. All the coves Cain would choose for refuge, Richard too would know. Drake favored different hideaways. Places Cain and Richard had not ventured in their years together. Places Richard wouldn’t think to look.

  With a harassed sigh, Cain dropped the clothing at the foot of the bed and peeled the cover away from India’s body. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her thin sleeping gown and the curves it hugged. For too long he had fought his base desires in the name of decency, taking pleasure in discreet locations with even more discreet women. Now, as he gazed down at the one woman who embodied the very life he had yearned for, something deep inside Cain slowly twisted into a knot.

  She murmured something unintelligible and turned her head to the side. Dark hair tangled about her face and shoulders, and as another shiver rolled through her, Cain bit back a frustrated oath.

  He understood the windows now, but in relieving herself from the stench of her upturned belly, she’d only doomed herself to a worse fate. He swallowed hard and reached for the fragile tie that secured the gathered neck of her loose sleeping gown. There was but one thing he must do—get her warm.

  He tugged, and the material fell open. Ivory skin slipped free of the ruined muslin. It prickled with goose bumps. In the wake of her shiver, full pert breasts tightened, and her rosy nipples pebbled.

  Cain sucked in a sharp breath. Hell’s teeth.

  He forced his gaze to her slender shoulder, determined to ignore the wicked temptation of her exposed flesh. But the slide of the cloth, as he pushed it down her arms, disturbed him as well. She bore no weakness in her arms, despite their trim appearance. Every inch he uncovered, down to the delicate bones of her wrists, taunted his fingers to stroke and caress. To discover whether her skin held the smoothness of the silk it resembled.

  The prospect of removing the rest of her nightgown tripped his pulse into a staccato beat. Against his thigh, his cock shifted. He swallowed hard, stunned that such a simple act could have such a profound effect on him. Blast it all, he had undressed many women, yet his body was behaving as if he were a boy of fourteen standing before the whore who would introduce him to the ways of men.

  Cain ground his teeth together so hard his jaw ached and forced the belligerent imaginings of his mind aside. She is a liar.

  With one swift yank, he pulled the gathered cloth at India’s waist down to her ankles. He swore he would not look, but as he tossed the soiled garment aside, his eyes disobeyed his will. His gaze swept over lithe legs and toned thighs, not the bony limbs he had convinced himself he would find. Her belly was as flat as a tranquil sea. Her hips held a gentle slope his palm could naturally curve around. And the dark thatch of curls between her legs spoke of promises he dared not consider.

  With a muttered oath, Cain drew the heavy covers over her body and turned away. Eyes shut tight, he pulled in several deep breaths to calm the heavy beat of his
heart. Breathtaking. He could not remember a time when he’d glimpsed such true perfection. It was as if the creator had selected a portion from every beautiful woman and molded them into one temptation more damning than the sirens. Small wonder Richard gloated over his pending nuptials.

  Another thought occurred, and Cain’s gut coiled against an uncomfortable feeling he could not remember ever experiencing. Had India treated Richard to a husband’s rights? To hear Richard speak of her, she shared his anxiousness to marry.

  Perturbed by a sudden, unexplainable, rush of anger, Cain yanked hard on the door and stormed down the hall. Whether Richard and India had shared a lovers’ bed mattered little. She belonged to Richard. That very fact was why Cain brought her aboard. Not because he had a fondness for the blue-blooded chit.

  Ignoring the men gathered at the mess hall tables, he stalked to Cleaver’s kitchen. “A bowl of broth, Cleaver.”

  The cook startled, nearly chopping off another knuckle. “Damn ye, Cap’n. ‘Ow many times must I tell ye, knock afore ye speak?” He set his knife down and pushed aside a chunk of pork. “A bowl of broth, ye say?”

  “Aye. And a mug of gingered tea.”

  “Someone be sick so soon?”

  Cain pursed his lips as he nodded. “The girl.” Aye, the girl. If he refused to acknowledge her name, he wouldn’t have to confront the rest of what she stirred inside him.

  Behind a bushy beard, Cleaver’s mouth twitched with a grin. He wasn’t fool enough to laugh aloud, but as he turned to retrieve what Cain requested, his shoulders shook in silent mirth. When he turned around and offered Cain the bowl and mug, Cain ignored the sparkle in Cleaver’s bloodshot eyes.

  “Best o’ luck to ye, Cap’n. I know no woman who would tolerate a man as nursemaid. When she wakes, may she save ye the slice of her tongue.”

  Cain didn’t bother with a reply. He accepted the broth and drink, wound his way around the tables, and returned to his cabin. At the bed once more, he set the items on the floor and picked up the chamber pot. Holding his breath, he placed it outside the door for the man assigned to mess duty.