Honoria flicked her gaze to Christopher. "I will stay with my husband. I took a vow. It means something to me."
Ardmore slanted her an ironic look. "I suppose by that remark you mean it means nothing to me. You've always been wrong about that." He returned to Christopher. "If that was the gauntlet thrown down, then so be it. You go after the gold, and I'll sink you."
Christopher traced the rim of his cup. "And if I tell you I have no intention of going after the gold, you'll follow me anyway? To make certain?"
"Yes," Ardmore said.
"Seems like a lot of trouble for you and your men."
Ardmore at last lifted his cup and sipped the brandy. "You are forgetting something. I know where the gold is. If you sail off to Charleston, pretending you don't want it, I'll simply take the gold for myself."
Christopher let out a short laugh. "You know approximately where the gold is. That's a different thing from knowing exactly."
"Then you can lead me to it." Ardmore took another sip of brandy. "Or, I can sink your ship, take you prisoner, and force you to tell me."
"You'll have a hell of a fight if you try," Manda said.
"That's fine," Ardmore said. "Your crew aren't the only ones spoiling for a fight."
"Well, you'll have one, James," Honoria said angrily.
Both Manda and Honoria looked as though they wanted to crawl over the table and throttle Ardmore on the spot. Henderson regarded his captain just as belligerently. Only St. Cyr retained a neutral expression, sipping his brandy.
Christopher started to laugh. Low and sounding of rumbling gravel, he let the laugh fill the cabin. Manda and Honoria stared at him in amazement, and Ardmore sent him a hard look.
"End game, Ardmore," Christopher said. "There will be no fight, no sinking, no prisoners. If you want the damned gold, you can have it. I'll lead you there, and you can take what you like." Christopher stopped laughing, drained his cup, and lifted it in salute to Ardmore. "In return, you leave Honoria with me, go away, and stay the hell out of my life."
"Christopher," Honoria began.
Christopher ignored her. "I want my wife, my freedom, my ship. Anything else, I don't care about. You get the gold, I get my life."
Ardmore held out his hand to Christopher. "Done," he said.
*** *** ***
"Christopher," Honoria said from where she reclined on the bunk.
Her husband stopped in the act of unfastening his shirt, tensing, his look growing watchful. "What?"
He'd not spoken to Honoria since the meeting in the chart room hours ago. James, on the other hand, had demanded time to speak with Honoria. He'd requested this of Christopher, if you please, not her. Honoria had flat refused, and Christopher had shrugged, giving James a What-can-you-do-with-a-stubborn-woman? look.
Diana had been distressed about Honoria's decision to remain aboard the Starcross, but Honoria had taken Diana aside and explained her choice. Diana had not liked it, but she'd understood and departed with James without further argument.
Mr. Henderson had gone back to the Argonaut with James as well. James had paused as he'd prepared to climb down into the gig after Diana, and informed Henderson that he still had a job on the Argonaut if he wanted it.
Honoria had thought for a moment that Henderson would tell James to go to the devil, but in the end, Henderson had nodded and climbed after him into the waiting boat. Henderson had avoided looking at Manda, who'd remained stubbornly at the tiller, refusing to watch them go.
Christopher interrupted Honoria's thoughts. "What do you want to ask me, my wife?"
He slid his shirt from his body, and Honoria lost herself in admiration a moment. "Do you love me?" she asked.
Christopher laid his shirt carefully on the chair. "You know the answer to that."
Honoria watched the sway of his wheat-blond braid as he leaned to tug off his boots. The single lantern shadowed the curve of his spine, the hollows at the small of his back, and danced over the dragon on his collarbone.
Clad only in his breeches, Christopher sat down on the bed. The quilts separated her from him, but his warmth touched her through them. She ran her gaze from the dragon to the scarred, silver-white flesh where unknown villains had scraped his skin from his ribs.
"Perhaps I am asking the wrong question," she said.
Christopher's gray eyes were watchful. "What do you mean by that?"
"Why on earth did you agree to give James the gold?"
His brows went up. "That's an abrupt change of subject."
"Not really. Why did you?"
"Maybe because I don't give a damn about it."
"But it's gold."
Christopher grinned. "Avaricious little thing, aren't you? Did you hope I'd use it to buy you pretty trinkets?"
"That is not what I meant. You struggled to find it, you were forced to hide it, and you were arrested for it."
"A long time ago." His voice took on a note of acceptance, letting go of the past.
"The point is, you let James win."
Christopher's sun-colored brows tilted upward again. "Did I?"
"Do not smile at me as though you've done something clever. If you think you can mislead James or outrun him, you're wrong. He will find you and sink you as he threatened, and he will not much care whether I'm aboard or not. He'll think it no more than I deserve."
Christopher rested his broad hands on the bunk on either side of her, his breath touching her face. "You smell nice," he said. "Did you enjoy your bath?"
James's gift of water had given them enough to spare for a sponge bath. Honoria had tipped a little dried lavender into the bowl and reveled in dragging the scented water all over herself.
Christopher's eyes darkened. "I'm sorry I missed it."
Honoria began to be sorry too. She imagined him drawing the dripping sponge across her naked body, tracing the path of the droplets first with his fingertips then with his tongue.
A bead of perspiration rested in the hollow of his upper lip. She wanted so much to lick it away . . .
Honoria drew back. "You are deliberately distracting me."
"Am I? Distracting you from what?"
"We were speaking of James, and why you gave in to him."
"Ah. I thought we'd finished with that."
"I still do not understand why you agreed," Honoria said.
Candlelight played warmth through Christopher's eyes, but behind the warmth was a glint of something Honoria could not identify.
"You find it so difficult to believe that I'm willing to give up the gold?" he asked.
"Yes, I do."
"Why, because I'm a pirate? Who will do anything for a few pieces of silver? You read too many books."
"It is gold, not silver." Honoria tried to give him a stern look. "What I do not believe is what you told James, that you'd give up the treasure for me. That's why I asked if you loved me."
"What I said was I'd give it up for you and for my freedom," Christopher corrected her. "I think both those things worth a pile of gold."
"Romantic of you."
"No, practical. I'm not willing to die for a cave full of ingots. I have enough money. What I haven't had enough of is you." His smile started to warm her again, stirring the fires he'd already ignited.
"Manda and Mr. St. Cyr seemed to capitulate easily enough."
Christopher skimmed his fingers over her upper lip. "You aren't going to give this up, are you?"
"I only want to understand."
"No, you don't. You are angry because I didn't tell your brother to go to the devil." Christopher drew his finger back and pointed it at her. "You have a feud going with him. I don't."
"James arrested you and took away everything you had!"
"Sweetheart, in my line of work, you learn a few simple rules: Stay alive, don't succumb to greed, and let go of past mistakes. I need to be alert at all times, which I can't be if I'm brooding about revenge or fixed on too big a prize."
"Like the Mexican gold."
"Like the
Mexican gold. Not worth the effort."
Honoria rested her chin on her knees. "You are still very forgiving."
"I thought you understood. I wanted Ardmore to arrest me back then. I had three ships. I sent Manda and St. Cyr off in different directions and ran a little slower so your brother would pursue me, not them. It worked. Manda and St. Cyr got away."
She stared at him in surprise. Christopher spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, dismissing a long chase through black waves, his ship sinking under him as James blasted cannon shot through it, his capture, being condemned to death. He'd been saved from the hangman by a whim of James's, then had to claw his way back to existence, braving thieves, brigands, and God knew what else in his long journey home.
"You were ready to die for them," she said.
"Of course I was. As they were for me."
The ache in Honoria's throat tightened. He spoke so casually about his willingness to sacrifice himself for Manda and his friends. Not many men would face death for anyone, let alone shrug and say, Oh well, it worked out for the best.
"You let James catch you all those years ago," Honoria said, starting to understand. "And you let him catch you now." She brushed her thumb across his cheek, gently forcing him to meet her gaze. "What are you protecting this time?"
He smiled, but his eyes hid whatever thoughts he didn't want her to see. "You, angel."
"Because you love me?"
"We've been through that."
"How do you know you love me?"
His smile began to fade. "Honoria, don't you think we've talked about our feelings long enough?"
"We haven't even begun to talk about our feelings."
He rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell. You mean there's more?"
"Of course there's more. You are avoiding the subject."
His strong body pressed her into the pillows. "You must know I love you. I haven't thrown you out the window like I did the bedding, no matter how many damn fool questions you ask me."
She held on to her courage. "That is not an answer."
He pounded fists into the thick quilts, his temper finally cracking. "Damn you, Honoria. This is why women drive men insane. You accuse us of avoiding your questions, then you never believe us when we do answer."
"I simply want to know."
"All right." He held up his hands in defeat. "All right, I'll tell you how I know I love you. I know because when I was half dead, thousands of miles from home, you were all I could think about. I thought of you last thing before I went to sleep and first thing when I woke up. I thought about the way you looked at me, like I alone existed. I thought about how green your eyes were, and how sweet your lips taste. I thought about the lovely noises you make when I'm inside you."
He leaned to her again, resting his hands on the wall behind her. "I stayed alive to find you again. So I could look at you and taste you and feel you taking me into you. I stayed alive because of you." He pressed her down into the bed, his lips an inch from hers. His breath smelled of the brandy he'd drunk with James. "That is how I know I love you. So, for God's sake, stop asking questions and let me have my husbandly way with you."
*****
Chapter Twenty
Honoria gazed up at him, lips parted, her heart pounding. His declaration stunned her, yet at the same time gave her a wash of joy.
Christopher had thought of her, he'd worked his way back to her, he'd wanted her. Honoria hadn't quite been able to believe he'd returned for anything but the gold and to find Manda, but the hard light in his gray eyes now told her differently. He'd wanted everything, as he'd said, but he truly wanted Honoria.
"It isn't fair," she whispered.
He climbed onto the bed, ducking under the low ceiling. "I just gave up a fortune in gold to your brother. I'm no longer interested in what's fair."
Before Honoria could explain what she'd meant, Christopher gathered up her nightdress and ripped it from her body.
She knelt there, shivering, while he tossed the nightdress away and looked her over with possessive eyes.
Honoria wasn't certain what excited her more, Christopher slow and teasing, or Christopher abrupt and wild.
He wrapped her hair around his fists as he pulled her to him, and did not bother to gentle his kiss. Christopher angry was dangerous, yet he excited her. He held his strength in for her, and it was that tension, a volcano choosing not to explode, that made Honoria's heart beat swiftly with exhilaration.
Christopher pulled her legs out from under her and landed on top of her full length on the bunk.
No teasing this time. He yanked open his breeches, pressed her legs apart, and entered her, full and hard, without waiting to bring her to readiness. No matter, Honoria was already plenty ready. She held him with tight fingers as Christopher drove and drove into her.
She shouted her climax a second before he shouted his. Christopher kept going, showing Honoria indisputably that he was her husband and that she belonged to him.
After things quieted, Christopher stayed inside her, kissing her with lips gentled for her, the frenzy winding down. She basked in it, her body happy and tired.
Long after the moon had moved across the space of the window, Christopher eased out of her, tossed his breeches away, and dragged the quilts up over both of them.
Honoria turned her head on the pillow and kissed his lips. "Christopher," she whispered.
He growled low in his throat. "No more talking," he said, and he went to sleep.
Or pretended to. The snore was a bit unconvincing.
*** *** ***
The wind remained fresh, pushing the ships ever westward. Honoria scowled into the obliging breeze, wishing the sky would not remain so fair, the sea so annoyingly calm. A good storm could send them way off course, or perhaps separate the ships enough so that James would lose them in the darkness of night.
Honoria's fury at her brother had not abated. She longed to corner him and tell him exactly what she thought of him.
She eyed the Argonaut sailing several ship lengths astern, a sleek, beautiful ship. Diana was there with her two children. Diana had softened James a bit, Honoria had to admit, but it would be a long time before Honoria could look upon James with anything other than shaking anger.
Honoria's husband proved to be as arrogant and irritating as her brother in the days that followed. If ever Honoria tried to continue the conversation they'd begun in the cabin, Christopher would stare at her as though he had no idea what she was talking about. Questions about what they would do after they led James to the gold were met with I'm-too-busy-to-talk-to-you-now answers.
Poor Manda also grumbled about men under her breath. After Henderson's departure, she remained in a towering fury and was unapproachable by anyone, even Christopher. The sailors learned to give her and her anger a wide berth.
Christopher endured Manda's biting sarcasm with indifference. He either had a hide three feet thick, or he was used to her rages. Honoria, after another brief attempt to draw Manda into a woman-to-woman talk, decided to leave her alone. Clearly Christopher's sister did not want to talk about her feelings. It must run in the family.
They neared Christopher's hiding place without further adventure--except when Honoria and Christopher were private in their cabin. There Christopher introduced Honoria to worlds of pleasure she'd never known existed.
When she and Christopher had first consummated their marriage four years ago, Honoria had thought she'd learned what it was to be with a man. She now realized that their brief encounter in Christopher's cell had been just that--brief and succinct.
Christopher showed her how he could take his time, loving her with slow caresses. He'd bring her nearly to climax, then ease away, sending her down to mere heart-pounding anticipation, and then do it all again.
He'd tease her for a long while before finally giving in to her pleas--usually with a satisfied smile--and taking her fully. In contrast, on other nights Christopher came to her fast and furiously until Honoria was incoherent
with joy.
Christopher also taught Honoria to pleasure him with her hands and mouth. She learned the heady joy of bringing him to readiness and even to climax before he could thrust inside her.
Her newfound skills made her feel a little bit smug, especially whenever Christopher seized her in his arms and kissed her as though he could not stop himself. My pirate husband, she'd think. You have been conquered.
At least, in bed. Outside the bedroom, he never let her win anything.
*** *** ***
They sighted the island three days after James joined them. Rising out of the water in a series of cliffs, the small island spread its arms around a tiny cove too shallow for the ships.
Through a spyglass, Honoria observed thick green vegetation and thin silver streams of waterfalls pouring down cliffs. "Plenty of fresh water," Christopher said. "We'll fill up." He looked at Honoria. "And my wife can have a bath."
"We all can," Honoria answered firmly. "And have our clothes washed. And not before time. You should order it, Christopher."
"Honoria," Christopher began in his warning tone.
"Well, I am mighty tired of smelling everyone," she said. "I am now able to identify every sailor or officer on this ship from his unique odor. If I am to remain on board, regular baths will have to become mandatory."
Christopher regarded her with a cool gaze. "Are you trying to incite a mutiny?"
"Of course not. I am trying to preserve the final shreds of my sanity. And my sense of smell."
Christopher studied her another moment, his face expressionless. Then he turned to his crew, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted: "New orders! Every man--and woman--on this ship reports to the springs for a bath. A full bath, with soap. Anyone shirking this duty gets ten lashes." He looked back at Honoria. "All right?"
She scowled. "You did not have to take me so literally."
The men muttered among themselves, then one said, "I'll bring me mirror and primp!"
Another laughed and sang out in a high falsetto, "Ooo, I'll put on me best perfume!"
More laughter. A few mimed patting curled hair, another scrubbing himself all over with a brush.