Capturing the Pirate's Heart (The Emerald Quest Book 1) Page 7

  “You are quite the innocent, aren’t you, Madeleine Bellerose?” He reached out and took her hand, his clasp strong and warm, yet still she felt no fear.

  “Please?”

  “Please what? Tell me how I may please you? Is that what you ask?” His deep voice washed over her and she closed her eyes.

  “What will you do with me?”

  She lifted her head again and brushed the back of her hand impatiently at the tears that spilled onto her cheeks. She met his hooded gaze. She would not appear as a lily-livered sissy. Father had always taught her to face adversity head on, and she allowed herself a grim smile. One thing she was certain of, when Father had been teaching her that, he would never, in his wildest dreams, have imagined her being orphaned, on the other side of the world and a captive on a pirate ship. But the lessons he had taught her had made her the person she was.

  The pirate lifted his hand and wiped away the tear with the pad of his thumb and his kindness opened a flood of tears. Madeleine sank to her knees and put her hands over her face as she gave into loud sobs that wracked her body.

  “Come now.” His voice was kind as he lifted her to her feet and led her back to the bed, but Madeleine couldn’t stem the flow of tears. “I promise I won’t hurt you. You are quite safe with me.”

  “I am not frightened.” She hiccupped. “I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, then, compose yourself and we shall decide what is going to happen.” The bed dipped beneath his weight as he sat next to her. “I can certainly tell you what to do.”

  She strained to hear as he muttered beneath his breath. “I should turn the vessel around now.”

  “What shall I call you?” The sobs had subsided and she sniffed, again using the back of her hand in a most unladylike manner.

  “You can call me Sébastien. That is my name.”

  “Where are you from?” Finally she could speak without crying. Madeleine straightened her shoulders and looked to the man sitting beside her. “Where is your home?”

  “Where am I from?” Smile lines formed around his eyes as his lips tipped upward in a wide smile and a warm watery feeling ran through her. “I am from many places. I consider no place on land more home than another. Why do you ask?”

  Madeleine sensed he was trying to calm her with conversation. “Your words? Your accent? You speak like no one I have ever met before.”

  “I was born on an island called San Domingo, but for the present my home is on this vessel.” He held her gaze and that funny feeling crawled back into her belly. It was not unpleasant and she filed it away to examine later.

  “My mother was the daughter of a French settler…and my father? Well that’s another story for a time when we are bunkered down in a storm. I consider myself neither French nor American.”

  Madeleine swallowed. “Are you really a…a pirate?”

  Sébastien’s white teeth flashed against his tanned skin as he laughed. “I need to explore this assumption a little further. I believe that you watched my vessel from yours as we moored at the quay?”

  Madeleine nodded.

  “And did you see a skull and cross bones flying on our mast? Were we wielding cutlasses?” His grin got wider and she knew he was enjoying teasing her. “Did you see the fair citizens of New Orleans running away in fear as they beseeched us not to murder them in their beds?”

  This time she shook her head slowly and it was hard not to smile at the playful tone in his voice. She bit her lip.

  “So tell me, why do you think I may be a pirate?”

  “Jake…the cabin boy told me stories of Sébastien Leclerc who is a pirate feared across the oceans.”

  “Ah, did young Jake, indeed? Perhaps I will have to have a word with him.” He tapped a long elegant finger against his cheek and Madeleine watched fascinated as his tongue ran around his top lip. Then she realized what he’d said.

  “Jake? How can you have a word with him?”

  “Young Jake has come on board the Maiden for our voyage and by the sound of things he may be as pleased to see you as you may be to see him.”

  Relief coursed through Madeleine as she realized she may have an ally on board, and then it was quickly dispelled by his next words.

  “You shall see him in the morning. Now we must get some sleep, but until I am sure I can trust you to stay below deck in my cabin, you will share my bed.”

  Sébastien stood and reached behind Madeleine and pulled the coverlet down on the soft bed. She stifled a gasp as he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders and her vision was filled with a bare chest.

  “Although if you do go above deck, there is nowhere for you to run to.” He pointed to the far side of the bed that was tucked into the side of the hull. “I shall sleep on the outside and if you need to get out to use the privy—” the heat filling her already hot cheeks increased “—you will have to wake me. But rest assured the first attempt to escape my cabin and I shall be forced to tie your hands to the bed.” His voice softened. “I do not want to go to those lengths, Madeleine, but trust me, I will. It is for your own safety. Now can you sleep in that ugly black dress or would you like to take it off?” The grin was back and her face burned.

  Madeleine turned her back and scurried over to the far side of the bed and pulled the coverlet over her chest and up to her chin as Sébastien walked over to the lamp. The muscles flexed in the smooth golden skin of his back as he reached across and snuffed the wick. The room was immediately immersed in pitch darkness as the sweet smell of oil permeated the small space and she held her breath as the bed moved beside her. Rolling over, she turned her face to the wall and presented her back to him. A low chuckle near her ear preceded the warm hand that settled on her hip and she closed her eyes waiting for what would surely follow. Madeleine had some idea of what to expect when she married and she squeezed her eyes shut, preparing to be ravished.

  But Sébastien’s hand stayed there without moving and his soft voice filled the tense silence. “Now try to sleep and we shall talk more in the morning.”

  Madeleine lay beside him, her body rigid and her heart thudding against her rib cage. She tensed as the bed moved once more.

  What was he going to do?

  “Oh, and Madeleine. I’m not really a pirate, but I would appreciate it if you don’t disillusion young Jake on the morrow.” His laugh sent heat spiraling though her body and she squeezed her legs together to try to capture the exquisite feeling that consumed her as the pressure of his hand weighed through her dress onto her skin.

  “I think young Jake is quite chuffed to think he is a cabin boy on a pirate vessel.”

  The bed creaked as he lifted his hand and turned his back to her. Soon only his soft steady breathing could be heard over the creaks and groans of the boat as it pushed through the waves, taking her farther from her destination with each gust of wind in the sails.

  She would not give in to sleep. Another escape must be planned, but Madeleine suspected that the man lying next to her was going to be much harder to hoodwink than Uncle Titus.

  Chapter Eight

  Madeleine dreamed of emeralds and diamonds, and Aunt Josephine who was repeating the words which Madeleine had imprinted in her memory. Aunt Josephine was walking beside a row of graves and Madeleine shivered in her sleep.

  What new passions will my lover find me today? What pleasures unheard of, undreamed of? A wavering old voice said the words she had read in the diary.

  Madeleine woke slowly, reached up and stretched before she opened her eyes. She frowned and twisted in the bed; the long skirts of her stiff, black dress were caught around her knees. She reached down to untangle herself. A gasp escaped her and her eyes flew open when her hands were captured and held above her head. In her dream, she had been safely in the garden at Bellerose, and then in a cemetery looking for Great Aunt Josephine, but when she opened her eyes, she encountered a pair of dark brown eyes examining her closely and the events of the last day came rushing back to her.

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nbsp; “Good morning, Madeleine.” Sébastien’s voice was husky with the remnants of sleep but his eyes were alert and full of interest as he scrutinized her. “I need to go above deck very soon but first we shall set some rules for you.”

  He set her hands free, rolled to the side of the bed and stood, all in one quick fluid movement.

  A good thing for me to take note of. His eyes were keen and he moved quickly. Not that there was anywhere for her run to while she was on the boat, but she filed that quick, feline movement away for future reference.

  “Stay there.” He disappeared behind the curtain beside the door and Madeleine sat up to take stock of her surroundings. During the night she had been too focused on finding a hiding place to notice the cabin and then when she had been discovered, her attention had switched to preserving her safety.

  And what a cabin it was. He said he was not a pirate, but Madeleine was sure that the captain’s cabin on the frigate on which she had spent the past month would not boast a cabin as luxurious as that which she was observing. She had not seen what a huge space it was; it must run half the length of the vessel. She turned her head and her gaze followed the solid timber beams which lined the base of the deck above her. The dark beams were richly oiled and the bedclothes and the curtain were ruby red and shot with gold thread. A second table she hadn’t noticed last night held a bowl filled with some sort of purple exotic fruit which she did not recognize. Eventually curiosity and hunger got the better of her. She climbed from the bed and her bare feet encountered a deep, soft carpet. It was richly patterned and of the same deep red as the curtain across the room. Shaking her head, she allowed her gaze to wander over the furnishings. The contents of this cabin were more suited to a Duke’s drawing room and were far more elegant than anything that had filled Bellerose Hall even before Uncle Titus had sold most of it. If Sébastien Leclerc was not a pirate, as he said, he appeared to be a very rich sea captain. She padded quietly over to the table, lifted the unfamiliar fruit and turned it around before sniffing it.

  “Are you hungry?” The deep voice came from close behind her and she twirled around. Sébastien stood beside her. He was as sure-footed as a cat in the dark. She had not heard him approach.

  She nodded as her stomach emitted a loud grumble and heat flared in her cheeks. He gestured to the curtained area. “Perhaps you may care to…er…freshen up? You will also find a table with a pitcher of water and a bowl in there.”

  Madeleine walked past him, keeping her head high, but she was aware of his eyes on her as she pulled the curtain down behind her.

  ***

  Sebastian had feigned sleep in the early hours until he had been sure that Madeleine Bellerose had fallen asleep herself. He had lain there in the dark, until her soft breathing had fallen into a regular pattern and her body had relaxed against his. For an hour he had lain there, his mind ticking over, and it had been almost light before he’d allowed himself to drift into a light sleep. Now he sat at the table, waiting for her to come out from the privy. He had formulated a plan before dawn and she must agree to it. He suspected, however, that she may be reluctant to fall in with his idea. If she wanted the freedom of the vessel while they were out at sea—when they were at Barataria Bay, it would be a different matter—she was going to have to listen to him and agree to what he proposed.

  She will have no choice but to agree—for her own safety.

  Madeleine stepped from the privy and dropped the curtain and walked slowly over to him. Again he was struck anew by her innocent beauty—a virginal beauty, he was sure. Her face was still rosy from sleep and her long auburn hair was loose, and hung over her shoulders hiding the neckline of the ugly, black dress. Her hair was thick and of the richest auburn he had ever seen. He stared at her for a moment longer before pointing to the chair opposite him. The contrast between her alabaster skin, the deep green eyes and her auburn tresses was breathtaking and he found himself almost bewitched. If she was any other woman—apart from an innocent virgin—he would have had a most pleasurable time with her in his bed during the voyage.

  But it was not to be. He hoped it would not be difficult to convince the crew that she was his woman—so long as she would agree to go along with his plan. It was the only way to keep her safe; and that he must do. Only Mr. Abrahams would be aware of the truth of why she was onboard. But she could not appear on deck in a mourning dress if they were to convince the crew she was his wench. He hoped that she would not be recognized as the young woman who had laughed down at him when he had fallen from the rigging into the Mississippi River. But her bonnet had hidden her features and the two ships had been far enough apart so that the crew would not have seen her face. Once she was out of that ghastly black dress and left her hair down, she would not be recognized as that same young woman at all.

  “I assume you are wearing the only clothes that you have here?”

  She nodded and her expression was wary. “Yes, the rest of my clothes were in my bag that Jake threw overboard.”

  “Jake? The cabin boy?” Sébastien frowned. He would have to bring young Jake down here before it was known that Madeleine was on board. But first things first; something had to be done about her attire.

  “Do you have any seamstress skills, Madeleine?”

  Before she could answer, there was a tap at the cabin door.

  “Yes, who is it?” Sébastien followed it by a yawn so that whoever it was would think he was still abed.

  “’T is Crawford, Captain. I have heated some porridge for the crew and brought some for you.”

  “Wait there. I will be with you in a moment.” It was time to put his plan into place but it was a shame that he had had no time to tell Madeleine what she was going to do.

  Sébastien put his finger to his lips as he stood and walked around to where she was sitting. Lowering his head, he lifted her hair away from a delicate shell-like ear, ignoring the jolt of warmth that ran up his arm as her hair brushed his skin.

  “You are going to have to trust me. All right?” he whispered as he grasped her arm and pulled her across to the bed, before he gestured for her to climb back in.

  Sébastien reached across to her dress and tried to look apologetic as he took the fabric on her shoulders between both hands and ripped it, exposing her bare skin. He tucked the loose fabric down so it barely covered the soft swell at the top of her breasts.

  “Now lie back, muss your hair and try to look wanton.”

  “Wanton?” At least she kept her angry response to a whisper. “How do I look wanton, pray, captain?”

  “Pinch your cheeks and bite your lips to redden them.” He lifted his fingers to his bruised lip where she had bitten him. “You need to look as though you have been tumbled in my bed all night. Now get that sour look off your face and smile.”

  Comprehension dawned in her expression, and she did not need to pinch her cheeks as the color flooded into them.

  Definitely a virgin. He would put a wager on that assumption.

  Sébastien was pleased to see Madeleine follow his instructions as she lifted her fingers and ran them through her thick, loose tresses. As he walked slowly across to the door, he unlaced his shirt and pulled it from his breeches.

  Grasping the wooden door handle, he stood to the side and opened the door, allowing the ship’s cook to enter and place the wooden tray he was carrying onto the table they had just vacated.

  “Thank you, Crawford.” He feigned another yawn and gestured to the bed. “I had not realized it was so late in the morning. I am surely a layabout today. I have had little sleep.” He winked at the man and inclined his head to the bed. “Please tell Mr. Abrahams I will be on deck shortly. If Madame lets me leave.”

  Crawford glanced across to the bed and his grin exposed the gaps that missing teeth had once filled. “Aye, aye Captain.” His gaze lingered a little too long on Madeleine’s chest for Sébastien’s liking and the protective instinct that rushed through him brought back thoughts of Lisette. He stepped between the ma
n and the bed to block his view, and pointed to the door. The cook had seen enough for the assumption to be made.

  “Thank you, Crawford.”

  The door closed behind him and Sébastien put his finger to his lips as he held Madeleine’s gaze. When the sound of the cook’s footsteps had receded, Madeleine jumped from the bed, clutching her torn dress to her chest.

  “My question was timely.” Sébastien leaned against the door and watched as Madeleine’s chest rose and fell as she tried to contain her anger.

  “What question?” She glared at him and he stifled a smile. He didn’t need her angry; she must be receptive to his plan, which thanks to the cook’s timely visit, would be well under way by now. The presence of a woman in the captain’s bed would be spread round the crew like wildfire.

  “About whether you have any seamstress skills?”

  She walked across to the table and sat on the chair, still clutching her torn dress together in front of her breasts. “So you intended to tear my dress all along?”

  She has courage.

  “No, that was necessary in the circumstances; however, we do need to find you some suitable clothes.”

  “What do you mean suitable?”

  Sébastien crossed the room and crouched beside her. “By now, the word will be spreading above deck. The captain has a luscious wench below and the crew will be salivating to see what manner of woman has caught the captain’s eye this—” He broke off before he could finish. Madeleine narrowed her eyes.

  “This what?”

  “Nothing.” She did not need to know that occasionally a woman would accompany him on his voyage. Although it had been a few months since he had given passage to the dark-haired beauty who had needed a berth from Antigua to New Orleans. The fact that she had ended up in his cabin was of no concern now; of prime importance was keeping Madeleine safe from harm. He had never taken a woman on any of the governor’s missions; that would have been foolhardy. He had yet to give thought as to what he would do with Madeleine when the mission was over and they returned to New Orleans. That was in the future and if her uncle was still in port—which he doubted—Sébastien would hand her over.