Gentle Rogue

  She threw her legs over the side of the bed, only to hear a sharp “Lie down, Georgie!”

  She glanced his way to see he had sat forward in his chair and was frowning at her, giving every indication that if she stood up, so would he, and he happened to be between her and the door. And, blast it all, she didn’t have enough nerve just then to put it to the test, not with him looking so formidable.

  For God’s sake, this is ridiculous, but she lay back down as she thought it. Only she turned on her side to face him, and was just short of glowering back at him.

  She did grind her teeth for a moment in frustration before insisting, “This isn’t necessary, Captain. I’m feeling much better.”

  “I’ll determine when you’re better, lad,” he said arbitrarily, leaning back in his chair again now that she’d done as she was told. “You’re still as pale as that quilt under you, so you’ll stay put until I tell you otherwise.”

  Anger brought color to her cheeks, though she wasn’t aware of it. Look at him, sitting there like a pampered lord, and in fact he was, pampered that is, and probably a lord, too. More than likely he had never lifted a finger to do a single thing for himself in his entire life. If she ended up stuck on this ship for the next several weeks because of this unwanted concern he was forcing on her, she’d quickly become worn to a frazzle serving the likes of him, and hating every moment of it. The thought was unbearable. But short of outright defiance, which she wasn’t equipped to back up any more than a twelve-year-old boy would be, there was no way to leave the cabin just now.

  Accepting that conclusion, Georgina went back to the subject of where he intended her to sleep if she was still on the ship tonight. “I had assumed, Captain, that all available cabins were occupied.”

  “So they are. What’s your point, lad?”

  “I’m just wondering where that’s going to put me and my hammock, if I’m to be near enough to hear if you summon me in the night.”

  That got her a laugh. “Where the deuce d’you think it’s going to put you?”

  His amusement at her expense was as infuriating as his unwanted concern. “In the drafty hall,” she retorted. “Which I have to tell you doesn’t suit me at—”

  “Give over, youngun, before you have me in tears. What bloody nonsense. You’ll sleep right here, of course, just as my previous cabin boy did, and every one before him.”

  She’d been afraid that was what he had in mind. Fortunately, it wasn’t unheard of to her, which saved her from making a maidenly display of outrage that would have been quite inappropriate. She knew of several captains who shared their quarters with the youngest members of their crews, simply for the boys’ protection. Her brother Clinton was one, ever since a cabin boy of his had been set upon by three crewmen and seriously injured. She had never learned the particulars of what happened, only that Clinton had been furious enough to have the three attackers severely whipped.

  This captain, however, knew she had a brother on board who could see to her protection, so his insistence that she move in here with him was for his convenience, not any concern for her welfare. But she wasn’t going to argue about it—not that he’d listen to arguments after warning her against making any. It would simply be foolish to protest if this was an established policy of his, and apparently it was if his other cabin boys had shared the room with him.

  So she had only one question for him. “Right here where?”

  He tilted his head to indicate the one empty corner in the room, the one to the right of the door. “That will suffice, I’m sure. There’s plenty of room for your sea chest and whatever else you’ve brought along with you. Supports are already in the walls for your hammock.”

  She saw the hooks he was talking about, spaced just wide enough to accommodate a hammock to cross the space of the corner. Strange, she didn’t remember seeing them yesterday when she’d been in the cabin. The corner was at least a long distance from the bed, but that was the best she could say for it, since there wasn’t a single piece of furniture between the two areas high enough to give her even a modicum of privacy.

  The only thing on that side of the room was the screened-off tub in the other corner near the windows, and the low commode between the corner and the door. The dining table was more in the center of the room, with everything else to the left of the door, the bed behind it, the cabinet and highboy on the far left wall, the bookcase on the same wall, but by the windows again, in the corner where the desk was located in front of the windows to take advantage of the light.

  “Will it do, youngun?”

  As if he would put her somewhere else if she said no, when she knew very well he wouldn’t go to any trouble for the benefit of a mere cabin boy! “I suppose, but would it be all right to make use of the screen?”

  “Whatever for?”

  For privacy, you dolt! But he was looking so amused by her question, she merely replied, “It was just a thought.”

  “Then don’t think, dear boy. Use common sense instead. That screen’s bolted to the floor. Everything is, except for the chairs, and it’s your duty to secure them at the first sign of bad weather.”

  Georgina had no trouble feeling the color flood her cheeks this time. That was something she’d known about all her life. On ship, everything had to be bolted, strapped, or otherwise tacked down, or it ended up someplace other than where it belonged, usually causing a great deal of damage in the process. Where was her mind, to forget such a common piece of knowledge as that?

  “I never said I’d sailed before,” she replied in defense of that bit of stupidity.

  “From England, then, are you?”

  “No!” she said, too quickly and too sharply. “I mean, I sailed to get here, yes, but as a passenger.” And then peevishly, since she’d only made herself sound even more ignorant, “I just never took note of such things.”

  “No matter. You’ll learn all you need to know, now you’re a working member of the crew. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, lad.”

  “Then while you have the time, Captain, would you be so good as to explain my duties to me, other than those you’ve already men—”

  She stopped when one of his golden brows rose in amusement. What the devil had she said this time to have him grinning like a loon?

  He didn’t keep her in suspense. “Be so good?” He was now laughing. “Good God, lad, I should hope not. I haven’t been good since I was your age, but so good, never.”

  “It was merely a figure of speech,” she replied in exasperation.

  “What it was, was an indication of your upbringing, lad. Manners too fine for a cabin boy.”

  “Lack of manners were a prerequisite for the job? Someone should have told me.”

  “Don’t get lippy with me, brat, or I’ll pin your ears back, that’s if they can be found under that bloody cap.”

  “Oh, they’re there, Captain, just pointy and twice the size they should be. Why else would I keep them hidden?”

  “You disappoint me, dear boy. I thought surely premature baldness. Only big pointy ears?”

  She smiled despite herself. His droll wit was really quite amusing. And who would have thought him capable of being amusing, autocratic brick wall that he was otherwise? If that wasn’t surprising enough, where had she gotten the nerve to banter with him? Even more surprising was she hadn’t taken him seriously, his calling her brat and threatening to pin her ears back, even though he’d looked quite serious when he’d said it.

  “Ah,” he said now, taking in her smile and giving one in return. “The boy’s got teeth after all. I was beginning to wonder. And pearly-white, too. ’Course, you’re young. They’ll rot soon enough.”

  “Yours haven’t.”

  “Meaning I’m so old that I should have lost ’em all by now?”

  “I didn’t—” She stopped, flustered. “About my duties, Captain?”

  “Wasn’t Connie specific enough for you when he signed you on?”

  “He said I only had to serve yo
u, not the other officers. But no, he wasn’t specific, stating only that I would have to do whatever you required of me.”

  “But that’s all there is to it, don’t you know.”

  She gritted her teeth until the exasperation passed, enough to get out, “Captain Malory, I’ve heard of cabin boys having to milk cows—”

  “Good God, they’ve my complete sympathy!” he said in mock horror, but only a moment passed before his grin came back. “I haven’t a fondness for milk myself, lad, so rest easy. That’s one task that won’t be yours.”

  “Then what will be mine?” she persisted.

  “A catchall of numerous services, you could say. You’ll act as footman at table, butler when you’re in the cabin, servant in general, and since I’ve left my valet behind this voyage, that job will also be yours. Nothing too strenuous, you see.”

  No, just waiting on him hand and foot, exactly what she had figured. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if she had to scrub his back and wipe his arse, too, but although he’d said she wouldn’t get her ears boxed, she didn’t care to tempt him to change his mind. It was almost laughable. For God’s sake, Drew’s cabin boy had to do no more than bring him his meals. Yet out of all the captains to choose from in London harbor, hers had to be a blasted Englishman, and not just English, but a useless aristocrat. If he’d ever done a lick of work in his life, she’d eat her cap.

  None of which she said to the arrogant man. She was annoyed, not crazy.

  James had to bite back his laughter. The wench was making such a valiant effort not to complain of the load he’d just heaped on her. He’d had to make up half of it, particularly the valet part, since he hadn’t had one for more than ten years. But the more she had to do to keep her busy in his cabin, the less she would see of his crew; more in point the less they would see of her. He didn’t want anyone else discovering her secret until he was ready to discover it himself. Then, too, the more she was in his cabin, the more he would have her to himself.

  Right now, however, he needed to put more distance than the space of the room between them. Seeing her curled up in his bed this long was giving him ideas that were not for the immediate future.

  Self-discipline, old boy, he admonished himself. If you ain’t got it, who does?

  That was a bloody good joke at the moment. It had been too long since he’d faced an actual temptation, of any kind. Self-control was a simple matter when the emotions were deadened with boredom, something else again when they were hopping-around alert.

  Georgina had decided conversation with Captain Malory wasn’t worth the aggravation it was turning out to be. Besides, silence might prompt him to seek some other diversion, like maybe captaining the ship. It might get him to leave the cabin, at any rate, and the moment he did, she could, too. She hadn’t thought it would bring him to the bed to check on her, but alas, she wasn’t having much luck with impromptu plans today.

  She opened her eyes and found him looming over her. “Still pale, I see,” he said. “And here I thought I’d done a commendable job of putting you at ease to remedy that nervous stomach.”

  “Oh, you did, Captain,” she assured him.

  “Not nervous anymore?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Splendid. Then you shouldn’t have to lie abed much longer. But there’s no rush, is there? Come to think of it, there’s nothing more for you to do until you serve the next meal. A nap might be just the thing, to get the color back in your cheeks.”

  “But I’m not the least bit—”

  “You aren’t going to argue with every suggestion I make…are you, Georgie?”

  Did he have to look like a yes would get her clobbered? He’d lulled her with his affable chitchat into forgetting that he was, after all, a dangerous man.

  “Now that you mention it, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  Apparently that was the right answer, for his expression altered again. It wasn’t quite friendly—well, he’d never really looked all that friendly—but certainly it was less severe, and once again, tinged with amusement. “You’re too young to have been doing what the rest of my crew was doing last night, so what kept you awake?”

  “Your crew,” she answered. “Returning from whatever they’d been doing.”

  He laughed. “Give it a few years, dear boy, and you’ll have more tolerance.”

  “I’m not ignorant, Captain. I know what sailors usually do on their last night in port.”

  “Oh? Familiar with that side of life, are you?”

  Remember you’re a boy, remember you’re a boy, and for God’s sake, don’t blush again!

  “Certainly,” Georgina answered.

  She saw it coming, that devilish crook of brow, laughter gleaming in his so-green eyes. But even being braced for it didn’t help when she heard the next question.

  “Is that from hearsay…or experience?”

  Georgina choked on her gasp, and coughed for a good ten seconds, during which time the helpful captain pounded on her back. When she could finally breathe again, she figured she probably had a few broken vertebrae, thanks to the brick wall’s bricklike fists.

  “I don’t believe, Captain Malory, that my experience or lack of it, has any bearing whatsoever on this job.”

  She had a lot more to say about his unorthodox questioning, but his “Quite right” took the wind out of her sails. Which was fortunate, since she wasn’t thinking like a twelve-year-old just then. And he had more to say anyway.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, Georgie. It’s my habit to be derogatory, don’t you know, and indignation only invites further abuse in my book. So do try not to take it so personally, because to be perfectly honest with you, your displays of chagrin merely amuse me.”

  She’d never heard anything so…so preposterous, and he had said it without a morsel of contrition. Deliberate goading. Deliberate teasing. Deliberate insults. Devil take him, he was a worse scoundrel than she’d first thought.

  “Couldn’t you just refrain from such provocation…sir?” she gritted out.

  He gave a short bark of laughter. “And miss little gems of wisdom like that one? No, dear boy, I don’t give up my amusements, not for man, woman, or child. I have so few of them, after all.”

  “Mercy for no one, is that it? Not even sick children get excluded? Or do you finally deem me recovered enough to get up, Captain?”

  “You had it right the first go round…unless, of course, you’re crying pity. I might take that into consideration. Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Crying pity?”

  Rot the man, he was challenging her by bringing pride into it. And boys at the awkward age of twelve had a great deal of pride, which he was undoubtedly counting on. A girl at that age wouldn’t only cry pity, she’d be streaming tears along with it. But a boy would rather die than admit he couldn’t take a bit of ribbing, even if it was unmerciful ribbing. But devil take it, where did that leave her, a woman who wanted nothing more than to slap his arrogant face, but couldn’t because the masquerading Georgie wouldn’t do something like that?

  And look at him, with features gone blank, and a tenseness in those wide shoulders and chest, as if her answer actually held some significance for him. More than likely he had some brilliant piece of sarcasm ready and waiting for her yes that he would be disappointed to waste.

  “I have brothers, Captain, all older than myself,” she told him in a tight, frosty voice. “So being baited, badgered, and teased is nothing new to me. My brothers delight in it…though surely not as much as you do.”

  “Well said, lad!”

  To her chagrin, he looked as pleased as he sounded. Oh, if only she could slap him just once before she deserted the Maiden Anne.

  But then a whole new set of emotions rose up to choke her as the man bent forward to grasp her chin, just as Mr. Sharpe had done, for a side-to-side examination of her face. Only unlike Mr. Sharpe’s, the captain’s touch was very gentle, with two fingers spread
over her left cheek.

  “All that courage, and as Connie said, not a whisker in sight.” The fingers trailed down her smooth cheek to her jaw, very, very slowly, or so it seemed to her rioting senses. “You’ll do, brat.”

  Georgina was going to be sick again, if the funny queasiness now stirring in her lower belly was any indication. But her nervous stomach quieted again as soon as the captain took his hand away. And all she could do was stare at his back as he walked out of the cabin.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The flare-up of Georgina’s queasiness might have passed for the moment, but it was still a good five minutes before her tumultuous thoughts quieted down enough for her to realize she was finally alone in the cabin. When she did realize it, her sound of disgust was loud enough to be heard outside the door if anyone happened to be there. No one was, as she discovered a moment later when she yanked the door open.

  Mumbling to herself about brick walls and arrogant English lords, she marched to the stairs and was halfway up them before she happened to remember that she’d been more or less ordered to take a nap. She paused, worrying at her lower lip with the “pearly whites” Captain Malory had remarked on. What to do, then? Well, she certainly wasn’t going back to bed, regardless of that silly order. Her priorities were straight, and finding Mac and somehow getting off the Maiden Anne before it was too late came first.

  Yet disobeying a captain’s orders was no minor thing, no matter in what terms the order had been couched, or for what reason it was given. So…she just had to make sure the captain didn’t notice her ignoring his order. Simple.

  But what if he hadn’t gone far? With her luck today…No, she had to think positively. If he was in sight, she could wait a minute or two for him to leave or to become distracted, but no longer than that. She was going on deck, whether he was there or not. She could always plead wanting a last look at England if she did get caught by him, though the lie would likely stick in her craw.