Chapter 19
Their journey went smoothly, and Storm and Burke arrived at St. Andrew Harbor early in the morning.
Not a good time to sneak aboard a ship, but there was no time to waste.
Philip and William had left camp the same time, and had probably already contacted the mysterious man who possessed the information they required.
If all went well they would meet in four days to exchange money for information.
Therefore, they had to get to the ship as soon as possible, see to their business, and leave within two days’ time.
“We can’t be seen together,” Storm said, concealed by a stack of crates at the end of the harbor. Burke could tell she was impressed by the massive ship, the gangplank bustling with men unloading crate after crate.
“Agreed,” he said with a nod. “I need to get on board, give orders to my crew, and change clothes so that it looks as if I’ve arrived with the ship. Then we need to get you on board as well.”
“We may have to wait until evening when there is less activity and the cover of darkness.”
“Not an option,” Burke said. “I won’t have you here alone along the harbor. You resemble a lad, and with three ships anchored in the harbor, I guarantee in no time you’d be a crew member ready to set sail on one of them.”
Storm resented the idea that he felt her incapable of looking after herself, when by now he knew otherwise.
“You forget who I am,” she reminded.
Burke was quick to disagree. “It is exactly who you are that makes me worry over your safety. I gave my word you’d be safe and I intend to keep it. Besides, today is to be a day of fun for you.”
“Then what do you propose?” she asked, the day of fun beckoning her to play.
“You remain hidden until I return for you. Then we’ll make it appear as if I’ve taken you on as a cabin boy, and make sure to keep your face smudged. We don’t want anyone discovering what a lovely face you have, at least not until you’re my wife.”
Wife.
While it was nothing more than a charade they played, the title still startled her. It had been three years since her husband had called her wife, and Daniel had an endearingly proud way of using the title on occasion. It had filled her heart with joy. Not so this time.
This time it unsettled her.
“I’ll be right here waiting,” she said.
“I won’t be long,” he reassured her.
He mingled easily with the crowd of people along the dock. Storm followed him with her eyes as he maneuvered his way to his ship without hesitation, walked up the gangplank, and was gone from sight.
Had she given this decision time or had she been too quick to agree to a day of fun? Did she truly wish to spend time alone with the American? Did she ache to feel a man’s arms around her once again and to share intimacies without ties that bind?
She leaned her back against the crates and slid down until she sat on the hard ground, arms resting on her raised knees.
What was it that attracted her to the American? He was a man much in charge of himself and accustomed to being in charge of others. He wasn’t a man who followed but who led, and he did it with honor.
She respected an honorable man, one who when he gave his word lived by it, even if it proved difficult. And Burke refused to give his word unless he felt he could keep it. Such a man was not only to be admired, but also to be trusted.
She found these qualities much more appealing in a man than his features, not that Burke wasn’t attractive. He pleased her eyes well enough, but his defined character pleased her more.
“What are you doing? Stealing from my crates?”
Storm jumped at the harsh grumble and spun around to find a large barrel of a man, fingers thick as sausages, waving a coiled whip in the air.
“No, sir,” she said, keeping her head respectfully bowed and his eyes distracted from her face. “Resting, that’s all, sir.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he yelled and reached out.
Storm ducked and took off past him hoping to get lost in the bustle of the busy dock.
Burke hurried to change clothes, not wanting to leave Storm alone too long.
He had promised Tanin and Philip and the rest of the group that he would keep her safe, and he couldn’t hold firm to his word if she wasn’t with him.
She’d be safe enough for a short time hidden behind the crates, but there was always a chance she’d be found.
He stripped off his clothes, washed quickly at the basin filled with water, then dressed in black trousers, white shirt, black vest, and black waistcoat. Unable to tolerate constriction of any kind around his neck, he left several fastenings undone.
Shiny leather boots followed and then a comb of his hair with a real comb and not his fingers, and he was near done.
He grabbed coins from the safe he had stocked with money, and picked up his father’s diamond ring and shoved it on his pinky. It was the only finger it fit, and he wore it with pride, as had his father.
A chest of garments meant for America had been brought to his cabin on his orders. He wished Storm to have her pick. Something was bound to fit her, and he was eager to see her dressed in fine clothes.
She would certainly be a raving beauty, but then her beauty wasn’t defined by what she wore, since she was just as beautiful dressed in lad’s clothing. She was striking regardless of what she wore.
He smiled, recalling her smudged face and how he had wanted so badly to kiss her when they had stood behind the crates. He had wanted to kiss her, hold her, and do much more than that, much too often of late. It was a constant thought in his mind and one he definitely wanted to see reach fruition.
Finally finished and anxious to return to Storm, he hurried out of his cabin to the deck. Much of the crew stood at the railing, their attention fixed on the dock below.
Burke hurried to the gangplank, relieved that he had been provided with a distraction to get Storm aboard without being noticed.
That is, until he saw what caught the men’s attention.
The whip sliced the air so close to her ear that its crack near deafened her.
Storm stood perfectly still. Her shoulder stung from where the tip of the whip had caught her when she had attempted to run.
She was grateful her jacket took the brunt of the hit, though it had sliced through, and she could feel the blood dripping down her arm.
“You don’t run from me,” the man screamed, his full face turning red with rage.
For a second Storm gave thought to running, but the man was skilled with the whip and could do her harm. She remained where she was.
“Come over here,” the man demanded.
“I’ve done nothing wrong, sir.” She hoped to delay him until Burke arrived. It was her only chance. That they had attracted a crowd didn’t help matters. Attention was the last thing she needed.
“I’ll not tell you again,” the man said loudly. Encouraged by the cheers of the crowd, he raised his whip.
“Strike the lad and you’ll find that whip a noose around your fat neck.”
The order sliced through the crowd much like the crack of the whip, silencing everyone.
Storm thanked heaven for Burke’s timely arrival, and when she turned to look, she almost didn’t recognize him. Clearly, his dress proclaimed him a man of wealth and station, far removed from the man she had rescued from the filthy prison, and yet he was the very same one.
He walked with that confident swagger that spoke volumes. He was a man of class and distinction, and the man with the whip realized it as quickly as Storm had, for he lowered the weapon, though he refused to relent.
“The lad stole from me and will pay for his crime,” he said, shaking his meaty fist.
Storm remained where she was and Burke walked around to stand in front of her. His body completely blocked her from the view of her accuser; that he shielded her was obvious to all.
“The lad belongs to me.”
Storm near shivered, his remark more a threat. Burke looked as if he wore no weapon and yet he attacked with words and a powerful stance. How did he expect to truly defend himself?
“Do I need to rescue you again?” she whispered behind him.
She heard a low chuckle.
“We’ll see who rescues who.”
She didn’t doubt he would rescue her. His stance alone, blocking her from her accuser, clearly indicated that he didn’t intend to surrender her. That he intended to protect her, save her, rescue her was evident, and the crowd cheered him on.
The realization of the attention they drew suddenly made her realize how precarious their situation could turn. If anyone should dare recognize her, question her identity, attempt to ask her name, they would be in trouble.
She reminded him of this in a rushed whisper. “Hurry.”
“Agreed,” he mumbled beneath his breath.
The big man finally found his voice and courage, though his quavering voice betrayed his unease. “I’ll be compensated for his crime.”
Burke reached into his waistcoat pocket, extracted several coins and tossed them at the man. “You’ll get no more.”
The man scurried after the coins that rolled and spun and scattered in different directions. It would take him a while to collect them all.
In the meantime, Burke snatched Storm by the arm and practically dragged her up the gangplank, down the narrow steps and into a cabin, then slammed the door shut.
“How did you get yourself into that predicament?”
She was about to answer when he advanced on her. She backed away from him, his face looking as if he were in a rage.
“You’re bleeding,” he said and reached for her arm.
She glanced down at her shoulder, the tear made by the whip having gone clear down to her skin.
Before she could explain it was nothing, Burke began pulling off her jacket.
She attempted to stop him when suddenly she wondered if she really knew this man in front of her.
He was much more in command, much more at home here.
And why wouldn’t he be—this was his ship, his command. She was merely a visitor, an observer.
She fought to adjust to the reversal of roles, but not being fully in control did not sit well with her, and she found it difficult, if not impossible.
“It’s nothing,” she said and stepped away from him.
“Bullshit,” he said and advanced on her once again.
She held her hand up to stop him. “Clean cloths, fresh water, and I can see to it myself.”
“It isn’t necessary. I’ll tend to it for you,” he said with a step closer.
“I’ll—”
“You’ll let me see to it. Then you’ll search that chest for an appropriate dress, change and be introduced around the harbor as my wife, Mary,” he said firmly. “We have little time and it would be foolish to waste it arguing.”
She hated to admit he was right, but then he was in command here, and what choice did she really have. They did not have time to spare, not if she were to enjoy a day of freedom.
She stripped off her jacket and lowered the shirt off her shoulder. She didn’t have the inclination to stand bare-chested in front of him. Things had changed since that day she had stripped her chest bare mainly to shock him. She had discovered that she liked the American’s kisses and his touch.
Her glance drifted to the bed, a good size that would easily hold two people with the bedding of fine wool and thickly stuffed pillows. Would they share his bed this night? Would she taste intimacy once again? Would it prove as satisfying and loving as it had with her husband?
Too many questions waiting for answers.
“It looks worse than it is,” Burke announced, cleansing her wound with a wet cloth.
“Surface wound.” She glanced up into his dark eyes and for a moment was caught by his concern. He actually appeared deeply worried, and it startled her. “I’m all right,” she assured him.
“He could have inflicted much more damage.” He threw the cloth in the basin, sloshing water over the sides.
“You arrived in time,” she reminded.
He cupped her face with his hand. “What if I hadn’t?”
“I would have run,’ she answered on a single breath.
“Where?”
In a heart’s breath she whispered, “To you.”
He shook his head slowly, growled angrily beneath his breath, and then ravished her lips as if he had never kissed her before.
That was all it took. They feasted on each other like two hungry lovers long denied. They tasted, took a breath, and tasted some more as if they could never truly satisfy each other.
His hands slipped beneath her shirt and she jumped, startled, when he took hold of her full breast, his thumb playing havoc with her hard nipple.
Good Lord, she wanted desperately to strip off her clothes and his and jump into his bed and forget the world existed for the reminder of the day. They would be two lovers lost in time.
Time.
She pulled away, feeling the loss of intimacy as his lips fell away from hers, his hand slipped reluctantly off her breast, and his warmth faded with each step that separated them.
“We have little time to spare.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. “I will leave you to dress. Meet me on deck when you’re finished. My crew will be aware that you are to be known as my wife. And I’ll explain that the lad is recovering from his whipping.”
Storm nodded, disappointed, but grateful they had tonight together.
Burke walked to the door and stopped after opening it. “You’re right, Storm, we have little time to spare, and I’m going to make certain we don’t waste a minute of it.”