Chapter Three #2
Well, calling her “sweet lips” and then kissing her with hot abandon when first opening his eyes on the beach had not been very gentlemanly, but he had made no untoward advances since then.
“Let me help you.” She tucked her arm under his shoulder and assisted him back into his bed.
He fell into it with a groan, his face now ashen. “Blast, that hurt.”
“It would hurt less if you took laudanum for the pain,” she said while fluffing his pillows, although she did not know why she felt such an urge to tend to him. He was weak but far from helpless.
His face was still ashen as he smiled at her when she drew the coverlet securely around him. “Thank ye, Deandra. Yer lovely countenance is all I need. No man could ask for better medicine. Or better company.”
Parrot gave an indignant bark from under the bed, where he seemed to have made himself comfortable.
McTavish laughed. “All right, Parrot. Yes, I need ye, too.”
Parrot thumped his tail on the wooden floor in approval and then promptly fell back to sleep.
Deandra sank into the chair beside his bed. “Shall I order you more broth? Are you cold?”
“No, my sweet lass. It was just a passing dizziness. But I like how ye fussed over me. No one’s ever done that before.”
“I’m sure your mother must have done so when you were younger.”
He shrugged. “Not that I can recall, but I will not deny she was a good woman and protected me until I was old enough to protect myself.”
Mildred marched in before Deandra had a chance to respond to his comment.
Perhaps no response was necessary, for what could she add? Clearly, he had been on his own for quite a while and managed to rise in stature despite all the challenges of his upbringing.
She turned to Mildred and asked her to return downstairs to fetch the captain’s boots. “And also ask Mrs. Angel to bring up some fresh bread, marmalade, and a pot of tea.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Mildred said with a dutiful bow, and hurried off.
McTavish grinned and arched a wicked eyebrow. “She’s bigger than me, and that’s saying something.”
Deandra smiled. “You are quite the ox, aren’t you? Trying to turn you over when I found you on the beach was like trying to move a boulder.”
“I can be as stubborn as a boulder, too.”
“Me too,” she admitted. “I had a bit of a battle with Lady Claudia Needham, one of our more prominent relations who insisted on my having a second Season. She was certain I could snare a duke, and was quite peeved that I would not even try.”
“A duke? That’s mighty lofty,” he teased.
She shook her head and laughed lightly. “Yes, and quite ridiculous. I may be well connected, but I am really no more than a professor’s daughter.”
His grin faded and he cast her an odd look. “I must agree with Lady Claudia. I think ye would make a fine duchess.”
“I don’t know about that. Well, I have been trained to run a fine household and do understand the rules of Society.
But I like living here, close to family, and helping out at the army hospital.
I feel useful tending to the injured men, even if it is merely to read to them or help them feed themselves.
There is a purpose to my existence in Moonstone Landing.
Of what use would I be in London? Especially to a duke who would not really need me for anything. ”
“Even dukes have hearts that are in need of tender loving,” McTavish remarked, still regarding her curiously.
Deandra folded her hands on her lap, fearing she might be tempted to run her fingers through the waves of his hair to smooth back a stray curl or two. She did not understand why she found him so handsome when his facial features were better described as rugged rather than elegant.
He had wide-set eyes that held a devilish gleam and yet also a compelling depth of wisdom.
His nose was broad and his cheekbones well defined.
He had a firm jaw and a mouth that was also slightly too broad but was gracefully shaped like a longbow…
a tempting mouth that made her wish he would kiss her again.
“What matters most to me is finding a true and lifelong love,” she continued.
“The man does not have to be a duke, just honorable and kind. No fakery about him. To me, this was the hardest part of being trotted around London last year. Everyone was looking out for themselves. It all felt very mercenary.”
“It is survival, Deandra. Many noblemen have no choice but to marry an heiress to replenish their empty coffers. They do not have the luxury of holding out for love. Perhaps it is mercenary, but what is a man to do when his family and all those in his demesne depend on him to marry well and secure a fortune in order to keep his estate holdings from crumbling into ruin? Same applies for a young lady whose family has fallen upon hard times. She carries the weight of their future upon her shoulders.”
“Yes, this is true.” She nibbled her lip, not certain why she was being so judgmental of others when she had not done very much extraordinary with her life. “Well, if a duke comes along and offers to marry me, I shall accept.”
He smiled. “Do ye promise?”
“Why would you have me promise such a silly thing?” she asked, laughing lightly. “No duke is going to come along and ask for my hand.”
“Care to wager on it? I say ye’ll have an offer of marriage from a duke within the week. I’ll put up a hundred pounds if I lose.”
She shook her head. “And what if I lose? I would never casually wager that exorbitant a sum.”
“I have no desire for yer money.”
“Then what am I to wager in return?”
“If ye lose, I’ll have another kiss from ye, Deandra. A real kiss, no quick peck on the cheek. One full on the lips and lasting to the count of ten…the slow count of ten.”
“And you won’t pass out in the middle of it this time?”
He playfully groaned. “That first time did not count. I was barely conscious and had sand stuck up every crack in my body. I caught ye spitting the grains from yer lips afterward. Sorry about that, lass. We’re going to do it proper next time.”
“Assuming you win the wager.” She stuck out her hand, knowing it was a ridiculous bet for him to be making. He was certain to lose. But she was not callow enough to ever demand he pay up when he lost. “All right. You have a deal.”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips in a feather-soft kiss that nevertheless scorched her insides.
She almost wished he were a duke and would offer to marry her, but she knew this was merely a silly jest between them.
What was no laughing matter was the rampant longing he stirred within her.
In her younger days, she had often confided in Imogen of her desire to marry a pirate just as Imogen had done with her cousin, Draco.
Yes, Draco and Captain McTavish were privateers, men who were adventurous but had a strong sense of honor and loyalty.
There was an important line that marked the difference between men in service to the Crown, such as Draco and McTavish, and pirates who had no regard for laws or the sanctity of life.
Still, was it not dangerous to have feelings for this man she hardly knew? Was it possible for a womanizing hound to reform?
She slipped her hand out of his and was spared any awkwardness when Mildred returned with his boots.
“Here they are, m’lady. And Mrs. Angel will be along in a few minutes with the tea tray.”
“Thank you, Mildred.”
The maid nodded and took up her post in the corner by the hearth.
Deandra set the boots down beside the bed and reached into the lip of the left boot when McTavish motioned to look in that one.