Rebellious Cargo Read online

  “I will be very happy to do so, Captain. In fact, I will look forward to it immensely.”

  “Good!” He stared at her, surprised by her enthusiasm. She looked positively delighted at the prospect. He had wondered if she was up to the job, knowing the exuberance of the youngsters. She wasn’t even as tall as them. His eyes wandered over the shapely body, his mind crowding with doubts. But at least she had lost that mutinous look – in fact, she looked quite agreeable.

  The conversation stalled; they were so used to exchanging insults that simple pleasantries didn’t come easily to mind.

  He finally grinned and raised his glass. “So, Mrs. Charlesworth, let us toast to a truce.”

  She eyed him curiously as she absentmindedly took a drink from her own glass, causing her to gasp and cough at the strength of the unfamiliar beverage.

  He raised an eyebrow – something to match her fiery tongue at last.

  ***

  Adam lay restlessly in his cot that night, his mind contemplating the subject of women. The memory of Angelique, the evil blonde siren, haunted him. He had foolishly given her his heart and in doing so had learned a hard lesson in the depth of feminine cruelty. She had left him shortly after the duel he had fought over her – the duel that had left his brother fighting for life and his family hating the sight of him.

  His thoughts quickly shifted, not prepared to dwell on the black hole that was his family life. Instead he remembered the passionate arms of Lady Isabel Gray and his mood lightened. An attractive and entertaining widow who had helped bury his memories. He was not altogether sure whether he had seduced her or the other way around. Either way, they had shared an uncomplicated relationship of sex and companionship. She had not required his love or commitment and he would not have given them.

  Finally and reluctantly he recalled recent intelligent deep brown eyes, soft, dark curls, and very kissable lips. His body reacted instantly to the images. He lay there, rock hard and wanting. Damn it! As soon as he got to Malta the first thing he had to do was find himself a woman.

  ***

  Twenty-four hours had passed and the pile of stagnant paper work surrounding the ship’s office spaces had been cleared. Ledgers brought up to date, invoices filed. Muster book, provision records, and even the disbursement of prize money for the last few months had all been neatly dealt with.

  Adam detested paper work and the loss of his clerk had been a blow. As well as being a vital member of the company, he had been a longstanding friend. Administration plagued most captains but it was a necessity, as after each voyage the ship’s accounts had to pass the scrutiny of the Admiralty’s office. He leaned back in his chair in a rare mood of contentment and turned his attention to his lieutenants who had settled in chairs opposite him.

  “How did the midshipmen take to their new instructor this morning?” Adam was quick to note the look that flashed between his two subordinates before Will Forbes answered.

  “I understand it was rather short. I think she failed to engage their full attention.”

  “Really!” Adam was torn between annoyance and a strange selfish triumph at this show of female vulnerability. “I will not have her shown disrespect by anyone on the ship, let alone those spotty-faced miscreants. She has not asked for help, I wager.”

  Will Forbes sighed. “I believe she wants to win their respect without interference – some of them have yet to be convinced of her merits as a tutor.”

  “A good flogging would convince them instantly,” said Samuel Grant. “I will see to it.”

  “No.” Adam held up a staying hand. “I will deal with the problem.” He sat back, a thoughtful look on his face. “And we will keep this conversation to ourselves, gentlemen – we do not want to embarrass the lady.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jane scowled at the sinking sun. The class that morning had been a right mare’s nest. She had been foolish to think all the young gentlemen would accept her help as easily as Ben. Of course, she knew, if she said the word, she could have them beaten into submission – but that would make her no better than Crosby.

  She had been forced to cut the lesson short before a full-scale fight had broken out between her charges. By doing so she hoped to keep the embarrassing episode quiet; she was not accustomed to failure. Contemplating the horizon, she wondered how the Elinora was faring. Perhaps she should have sold it, or let John Able take it off her hands. It could be months before she would be free to return.

  Shadows began to spread over the sea, bringing coolness to the breeze. A smell of salty maleness alerted her to his presence. She froze like a trapped fawn.

  “Mrs. Charlesworth, I haven’t thanked you for restoring order to my ledgers. You have done wonders.” He rested his hands on the rail inches from hers; she breathed deeply to settle her nerves before turning to face him.

  “I have to admit, Captain Marston, it took me a while to discover the system used.”

  “But you are an expert at unravelling puzzles – and you would have soon discovered there was no system.”

  “Quite,” she agreed, unable to resist a smile.

  “You seemed deep in troubled thought just now. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I was thinking of the Elinora.”

  He turned and settled his back on the rails, looking down at her. “It must have been a terrible blow to lose your husband so soon after your father.”

  “Yes, it was. Andrew and I had a short marriage although we had known each other for years. We were good friends; so it was an agreeable marriage. My father would have approved of the match.” She flushed, wondering why she had blurted out so much personal information. Now he was looking at her with those sharp grey eyes as if he could read her most secret thoughts.

  She shivered, and he held out his arm. “Would you care to take a turn around the deck? A walk will perhaps warm you.”

  She was damn sure of the fact, and she stared at the sleeve suspiciously before tentatively placing her fingers on top his arm. She had often taken Andrew’s arm and strolled on many a fine evening, and it had felt companionable and pleasant, but it had not sent fiery darts shooting straight to the core of her body. Or made her legs unsteady and her conversation inane.

  Their walk, being on the restricted space of the quarterdeck, was not private, so quite proper – but it didn’t feel that way. It was only when he had escorted her to her cabin, raised her hand, and grazed her fingers with the lightest brush of lips before leaving, that she realised he had turned from protector to predator.

  The feel of those warm lips still lingered on her hand like a smouldering imprint. She regarded her flushed features in the mirror. For a few moments that evening her body had ignited and glowed in something she wondered was lust. Was it possible? Her mind switched to the pain and humiliation she had suffered the last time a man in a similar uniform had touched her. Pennington’s merciless assault had left her bitter, and disgusted. The pain and shame haunted her constantly. Her only previous sexual involvement had been from her husband’s fumbled coupling. Both experiences had been disasters – one brutal, one gentle. She shuddered as tears filled her eyes. No! She would not risk more humiliation. Yet the burning hollow feeling Adam Marston had infused in her body robbed her of sleep that night.

  ***

  Idiot! Adam chided himself as he returned to the deck. What was he doing? He should not have touched her, but she had looked so lost. He wanted to ease the fear that always lurked in her eyes, even when she smiled at him.

  She had described her marriage in the way one would have referred to a comfortable pair of slippers. Andrew Charlesworth may have been amiable but he suspected their union held no passion. Perhaps that was not a bad thing; love could cause so much misery. And she would have been a hard woman to manage.

  Yet under that brittle shield she wore, there was humour and spirit. And something else; that indescribable, indefinable quality that made his pulse race.

  ***

  The ne
xt morning Adam sat at the long table in the gun room, his four youngest midshipmen around him, each looking decidedly nervous.

  They had not expected a lesson today and when he pronounced his intention to take the class, he was amused to watch their uneasy eyes and pale faces. He maintained his amiable expression for a few seconds before he picked his first victim.

  “Perhaps, Mr. Cross, you can tell me what page you were studying at your last lesson?”

  Cross started and hurriedly began flicking through his book. He frowned and chewed his lips, before he let his finger hover over a page.

  “Page twenty-two, sir,” Cross replied, as he sent a silent, desperate plea for support to his fellow students.

  Adam’s eyes narrowed. Clearly the boy had no idea. Nevertheless, Adam found the page and glanced at it quickly. It related to sines. He was relieved that it was a topic he could handle, one in fact that had been drummed into him when he was about the same age as Cross. He addressed his next victim.

  “What is the definition of sine, Mr. Anderson?” The midshipman peered at the book.

  “Without the book, if you please.”

  The youth tore his face away from the text as if abandoning a lifeline. He stared blankly in front of him, screwing up his face in concentration; he didn’t dare look at his captain.

  Adam sighed dangerously. “All right, with the book.”

  Anderson was at a loss with or without the book. He searched one page than the next for some clue on the answer.

  Adam switched his gaze back to the unfortunate Cross.

  “Mr. Cross, perhaps you can help out your incompetent companion.”

  Cross latched onto an equation on the page and read it out; there was a stifled snigger around the rest of the group as they recognised the answer was not only incorrect, but also completely unrelated to the question.

  Adam fixed him with a black look and continued in quite ominous tones.

  “You will learn all about sine and cosines and finish the examples at the end of this chapter by this time tomorrow. I want to see all the workings in your books written up neatly. I will have the utmost satisfaction in flogging the pair of you personally, if it is less than perfect.”

  Adam turned his attention to the rest of the class. Weston and Blackton, he suspected, would at least be able to answer the rest of his questions to some degree of satisfaction.

  ***

  That evening sitting in her cabin, Jane tapped her forehead with her quill. She was writing a letter to John Able, not knowing how long it would be before he would read it. She wanted to know how the ship was faring and if they were trading profitably.

  A rap at her door made her frown. “Is there no peace on this ship?” she muttered, as she marched to the door and flung it open.

  Jane was surprised to see Cross and Anderson standing outside. They were looking alarmingly angelic.

  “Well, gentleman, what can I do for you?” She was instantly suspicious and not feeling up to their stupid antics.

  Cross said, “We wondered if you could help us with this.” He held out the textbook with which Jane was totally familiar.

  Her suspicions heightened. “Do not try my patience, Mr. Cross; are you funning me?”

  “No, ma’am.” She was surprised to see his usual brashness replaced by fearful eyes and a slight tremble to his voice.

  “We are having difficulty with the problems in the fourth chapter.”

  “Why?” Jane raised a truly confused eyebrow. “I haven’t set any work on this subject.”

  Cross lowered his gaze avoiding eye contact. “We regret our past conduct, Mrs. Charlesworth, and are eager to catch up with our studies.”

  When she didn’t reply, Anderson took over. “You are the most intelligent woman we know, ma’am…” He faltered for a second, and then his brow cleared as he added, “as well as the most beautiful.”

  Jane was horrified, and now convinced some embarrassing prank was about to descend on her, she stepped out from her cabin to check the immediate vicinity for possible booby traps.

  She noticed the look of alarm Cross and Anderson exchanged as they witnessed her reaction to their flattery. She suspected they had been advised that all women reacted well to such sweet talk.

  Cross began to panic. “Please, Mrs. Charlesworth, we have to have these questions answered by tomorrow morning ready for the captain.”

  “The captain?” What was the captain doing commandeering her class, without telling her? She eyed them thoughtfully.

  “Do I understand that Captain Marston has set you a task and you want my help?”

  Anderson nodded vigorously looking at her with new hope. She stepped back into her cabin with a theatrical sigh. “I don’t think I can spare you the time tonight, gentlemen. We women need our beauty sleep. I’m sure the captain will understand your inability to do the questions after you’ve explained that you haven’t put any effort into the subject for the last month or so.”

  She shut the door on their desperate faces with a grin, and then settled back at her table. She would let them stew for a while. Her amusement faded as she guessed Captain Marston must have heard of her disastrous attempt of educating his charges and decided to intervene. The thought grated at her pride and caused an unsettling flutter in her stomach as she sat down to finish her letter.

  ***

  Cross and Anderson were sat with their heads bent over ink-blotted calculations when she sought them out one hour later. They looked up at her as if she were an angel descending on them. She swallowed her amusement as she settled herself at the table and forced her voice to remain cool.

  “We will work through the first two questions together, and then you should be able to apply the same principles to the rest – if you give it some thought. I have no intention of doing the work for you, but will give you the required knowledge to apply yourself.”

  They nodded eagerly like a pair of ill-matched puppies, and she felt a begrudging stab of gratitude for her captain.

  Chapter Ten

  Adam watched as the mainsail filled out and the wind strengthened from the East. They had made slow time in the last few days but with this turn of the weather they should reach Valetta by dawn. Soon he would be heading back to his squadron and back to a place where he could forget about a brown-eyed female. Her ability to affect his emotions was disturbing; she could arouse, amuse and enrage in the space of a few hours. She absorbed knowledge like a sponge, and he supposed that was the reason why she always felt the need to question things.

  As he joined his officers below, he caught sight of her. They were all dining together this evening, on what might well be the last time he would share her company. She was smiling, whilst engaged in conversation with Will Forbes. Their heads close together, the dark, lustrous curls bounced softly as she laughed. A stab of jealousy spurred him forward to assert his role as host. Exchanging a meaningful look with Will, his second lieutenant wisely withdrew.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Charlesworth. May I?” Adam offered his arm to escort her to the table.

  “Thank you, Captain.” She placed her hand on his sleeve, without hesitation this time. He merely nodded, suppressing the rush of desire rippling through his body.

  She had that dress on again. The colour reminded him of a warm Atlantic swell. They had almost become friends in the last week as the hostility gradually thawed between them. But what still remained were the haunted eyes behind her smiles and banter.

  He seated her at the table on his right. His two senior officers joined them.

  Adam leaned towards her and spoke softly, wishing they could have dined alone.

  “We should see Malta by dawn. Once I have delivered you safely, I need to confirm my orders have not changed.”

  “Do you expect them to have changed?” There was a glimmer of apprehension in her eyes. She was nervous of what lay ahead and he wished he could reassure her of her safety, but his responsibility would more than likely end when he handed her to Coo
kson. He prayed they would guard her well.

  “No. I suspect I will be heading back to my squadron within a day or so.”

  ***

  Jane toyed with her food. She was sharing her last evening of the voyage with this small community of men whose presence she had come to enjoy. Now she was about to leave, her mind was full of uneasiness of what awaited her. The authorities in Malta had some task for her, some coded document that she was supposed to solve. What was it that demanded her specific attention? She was sure there must have been other cryptologists as competent as her to call on. Why drag her back – unless it had something to do with her father?

  The prospect of reaching Malta was not giving her the pleasure that she had expected.

  She had no cause to be afraid or suspicious of a meeting with Cookson. Her father had always spoken highly of him as a past and valued friend, although she could not remember meeting him. But why had he sent for her, and why had the command come through Addington?

  Her father’s demise had always been shrouded in mystery. When she had discovered his death had not been investigated, she had been consumed in bitterness. Her father’s heart was sound, he had not had one day of illness as she could remember. And he would never have left his papers misfiled in the manner she had discovered when she had arrived back after the terrible event. His study had been left tidy but things were not in their usual place. He was always meticulous in his documentation and record keeping.

  The work she had taken up on her father’s behalf had given no clue. Why had he sent her away a few days before he died? It was as if he were expecting trouble and wanted to protect her. But protect her from what? She had never discovered that, and the fact constantly reminded her that she had failed him. Perhaps now she was closer to finding out. Her insides tumbled with the thought.

  “I thank you for a delightful meal, Captain, Mrs. Charlesworth, but we must check on the watch.”