CHAPTER SEVEN

Bessy mumbled and scratched at a tickle on her chin. A particularly loud crack of thunder had wakened her and it took a moment for her to remember who was in the bed beside her and whose hard body she was snuggled against. When she did, she smiled and ran her fingers through the soft brown hairs covering his chest.

"'Ow long are yer 'ere fer this time, luv?"

"Another hour or so from the sound of that storm." Jason gasped then laughed as a sharp fingernail was driven into his ribs. "A couple of weeks, no more."

"An' then yer off again? Back across the ocean?"

"Aye, back across the ocean. Why? Are you thinking you would like to come with me this time? Would you like to see New York, or Boston, or the hot steamy bayous of New Orleans? Better still, there is a chain of islands called the Bahamas with sand as pink as a pearl and water the color of sapphires. It's hot all the year round and if you fancy a piece of fruit, why you just reach out the window of your house and pluck it off a tree."

"Ga'wn, 'ere yer go teasin' me again. Stuff n' nonsense, Jason Savvich. Talk like that's wot turns a girl's 'ead around."

"Then allow me to turn it for you." He grinned, and kissed her.

"Stop that." She giggled and drilled a nail into his rib again. "I ain't got me breath yet from the last bout. I swear as yer didn't 'ave a good woman all the months yer've been away. Leastwise none wot knew 'ow ter please yer."

"That is the truth, my Bess," he murmured and closed his eyes.

"Wot part," she asked after a pause. "Yer not 'avin a woman, or yer not 'avin a good woman?"

He smiled and stroked her thigh without opening his eyes. "It is all the same thing, is it not?"

"No," she said in deadly earnest. "A good woman keeps yer 'ealth up, she does."

"In that case--" he slid his hand into the silky wetness between her legs, "I've never felt healthier in my life than I do today."

Bess squirmed and laughed, but in the end pushed his hand away, albeit reluctantly. "Wot is it, Jay? Wot's troublin' yer?"

"What makes you think something is troubling me? Haven't I been attentive enough?"

"Too much," she announced decisively. "It ain't like yer to be, well, angry in yer lovin'. Look 'ere." She pointed to angry red bite marks on her thighs and breasts.

"And why should I not be angry? I come home after months at sea only to find my girl has up and left me for a...a peacock."

"Ee don't mean nothin' ter me, Jay. Yer knows that. An' yer knows 'ow it is wif me. I'm true as true can be while yer 'ere wif me, but when yer goes away...it's the nights, Jay. I lay 'ere wonderin' if this will be the time yer don't come 'ome. I get so lonely I near burst."

"Ah, Bess," he sighed and leaned over, tenderly kissing the offending teeth marks that marred her skin. "I have no claim on you, my pet. I have no right to be angry with you either. The truth of it is, I guess I am angry at myself, at my own shortcomings. There are people and places and things a man tries to forget, but they just keep creeping back on him, and there's no peace until he's finished what he set out to do...or what he has to do to set things right."

Her eyes narrowed. "Wot 'ave yer got yerself mixed up in this time, Jay Savvich? Yer up ter sum'mit, I can tell. 'Ere and I don't like it either. Yer ain't dancin' a jig wif the law again, are ye?"

"No, my pet, not the law."

"Best not be," she warned, "'cause they'll do more'n just chase yer down the docks this time, an' what'll I do if yer ain't 'ere no more? Oo'll be 'ere ter pleasure me till I lose my voice from screamin'?"

"Your rich new lover, of course," he said, almost too nonchalantly.

"Bah! 'Ee were good enuff when I were starvin' but I ain't starvin' no more. I'm all full up wif yer lovin'. An' I don't care 'arf 'oo 'ee is, neither. I'll be gone from 'ere afore 'ee knows wot end were up."

Savage winced as she lowered her mouth to the already tenderized flesh of his breast and began chewing and suckling on the dark disc of his nipple. "On the other hand, it would be a shame to give all of this up just yet."

Bessy stopped and raised her head. "Are yer sayin' yer don't want me to leave 'ere?"

"I'm saying--" he smiled and tucked a fiery red curl behind her ear-- "I don't think you should do anything in haste, my pet."

She studied his face intently for almost a full minute before the lines across her brow smoothed and the frown vanished.

"Ooooo," she breathed softly and her eyes shone with shrewdness. "Are yer wantin' ter play a game on 'im luv? Like the time we did on the judge?"

Captain Jason Savage grinned. Bessy's brains were in no way impeded by the single-mindedness she displayed in bed.

"That is exactly what I had in mind, my pet. He's rich, he has ambition, he's ripe for the plucking. Do you have any objections? You aren't in love with the fellow are you?"

Bess was still staring at him. "'Ang on 'ere, 'ang on. Yer mate's name is Cross, ain't it? The nob's son--'ee wouldn't be related ter 'is Lordship by any chance would 'ee?"

"He might be."

"Bloody 'ell!" Bess pushed upright and raked his ribs with all ten nails this time, hard enough to make him curl his torso up off the bed with a harsh grunt. "I should've know'd it were too good ter be true. Is that why yer came an' found me? Is that the reason yer so luvvin' and sweet an' cozy? 'Cause yer wanted ter use me ter run a game on Ranulf Bloody Cross?"

"Bess....now Bess!" Jason caught her hands before they could flay him again. "Do you honestly think I would do that? Do you?"

"Yes!"

She resumed her attempts to scratch and pound him, forcing him to wrench her down and roll on top of her, crushing her beneath his body while he held her arms stretched overhead. "You know better than that, Bessy Toone. You know me better than that. Have I ever lied to you? Have I?"

She squirmed and thrashed but he was too heavy. His grip was firm around her wrists, pinning them to the mattress close to the headboard. His face was infuriatingly calm as if he knew she had no choice but to come to a panting halt and listen to him.

When she did, he raped her mouth with a kiss as savage as his name. "Have I...ever...lied to you?"

She whimpered softly under the assault and blinked tears back from her eyes. "No. Not wot I know of, leastwise."

"You know damned well I haven't. And I am telling you the truth now when I say that it came as a complete and utter surprise when I found out who your new lover was. Ask Emmeline. I broke one of her gaudy parrot lamps when she told me, and Fat Harold had to restrain me before I smashed the whole parlor."

"Yer did?" she blinked up at him. "'Ee did?"

"The fact Ranulf Cross is your new lover had nothing to do with my tracking you down and finding you. Nothing at all. And it surely had nothing to do with anything that has happened in this bed...or on the floor...or against the wall tonight." He punctuated each phrase with slow, nibbling kiss and felt the tension melting out of the body beneath him. He used his knees to slide her legs apart, but she still balked.

"Why is 'ee so important to yer all of a sudden?"

"He isn't important at all, not to anyone but himself. The truth of it is, he is the one responsible for my hasty departure from Portsmouth the last time. He put the excise men onto me and I was half an hour away from having my whole cargo confiscated. I just thought...a little payback would not be amiss. If you don't want to help me, if you don't think you can go through with it, then you don't have to, my pet. It's as simple as that. I will take you away from here right now, just the way you are, back to Gracey Street if that is what you want."

Bess chewed her lip in thought. His body was wedged between her thighs and it was difficult thinking clearly when she could feel him there, hard and wanting.

"Right now yer'd take me back?" she asked.

"This very minute...despite the harm it might do my male vanity."

"An' yer wouldn't be angry wif me? Yer wouldn't throw things an' beat on me or give me over ter old Pritch ter poke 'is little dickie inter me?"

Jason eased his body forward, sliding himself into the tight, wet heat of her body. "I will kill Pritch with my bare hands if he ever so much as looks at you again."

She whimpered and arched her body up into the deep, slow thrust. "I'll think on it then. I'll think on helpin' yer."

Jason released her wrists and slid his hands down, catching at her knees and drawing them up until she was folded nearly in half, opening her fully to him.

"You will think on it, will you? Not too long, I trust."

"Oo!" She stretched her arms up even higher, her hands grasping at the bars on the headboard. "Not too long at all," she gasped, deliberately misinterpreting him. "I'd say it were just about right."

Jason chuckled deep in his throat. He pulled back and thrust deep again, sealing his devil's pact with Bessy in the language she understood best.

 

~~

 

The echo of China's scream was dying off the walls by the time she frightened herself fully awake. This time the door was still open; the shadowy figure had been in too much of a hurry to bother shutting it behind him.

She heard footsteps in the outer hall and seconds later, the approaching glow from a candle cast streamers of light through the slivered gap in the doorway, followed closely by a head and shoulders.

"China? Was that you? Are you all right?"

For a moment she could not find her voice. Sir Ranulf pushed the door wider and strode into the room, his hand cupped around the candle to protect the flame. A second, disheveled head appeared behind him, the wearer in nightcap and dressing gown.

"By Jove, was that you screaming to roust the devil, Miss Grant?" Sir Wilfred was clutching a pistol in his hand.

"I...h-he was here again," she managed to stammer.

"Who was here?" Ranulf demanded to know. "What did you see?"

"S-someone was in my room again. He ran out when I screamed."

The quilts had fallen from her shoulders and with a chock, Sir Ranulf realized his fiancée was sleeping naked beneath the sheets. He reached hastily for the wrapper lying across the foot of the bed and draped it over her shoulders. Setting the flickering candle down, he grasped her wrists gently and pulled her hands away from her face.

"You say someone was in your room again?" He waited patiently for the nod, his thumb wiping at the streaks of tears on her cheeks. "Did you see who it was?"

China shook her head. "H-he was in the shadows."

"He? You are certain it was a man?"

"Yes. Yes, I..." Her breath stopped again as another figure crowded through the doorway. The dawn light was just beginning to filter through the curtains, changing the shadows from black to gray. The stark whiteness of Justin's shirt was as vivid as...

Sir Ranulf frowned and followed her gaze. His jaw squared in sudden anger, seeing Justin, and his voice was tight with fury as he asked in a whisper. "Was it him? Was it Justin?"

"I...I don't know. His shirt...the man who was in here had on a white shirt; that was all I saw."

And that was all Ranulf needed to hear. He straightened and started for the door, his fists clenched, his jaw a solid ridge.

Justin held up his hands. "Now hold up there. Before you do something we will both regret. I gather I am being accused of intruding here again?"

"Where were you just now?" Ranulf asked, his voice a snarl. "And why are you still in your clothing at five goddamned o'clock in the morning?"

"I was in my room," Justin replied calmly. "And I am not still in my clothing. I am just now putting them on to leave, much to the disappointment of the young lady who is, at this moment, reluctantly scrambling into her own clothes to avoid detection by the rest of the household staff. You may ask her, if you are perverse and unimaginative enough to do so, exactly where I was five minutes ago." Justin offered a nod of apology to China. "Forgive my crudeness Miss Grant, but as you can see, subtlety is not one of my brother's stronger suits."

Sir Ranulf's face was livid. "Get out. Get out now!"

Justin kept his hands raised as he backed out of the door. Sir Wilfred was a beat behind, just missing the door as it was slammed shut behind him.

"Bastard," Ranulf hissed. "Bloody cocky bastard."

China hugged the wrapper close to her body, her tears drying cold on her cheeks.

"The door," he said, calming himself with an effort. "Was it locked?"

China looked from his face to the door, back to his face. She had come up to her room, the wine still singing in her veins. She remembered undressing--her clothes were in an untidy heap on the floor--and crawling into bed too tired to even bother with the nightdress Tina had laid out for her. As to the door...

"I...honestly do not remember if I locked it or not," she admitted in a whisper.

"You were advised to do so. It is a simple enough way to ensure your privacy, especially when you know there is a thief and womanizer under the same roof." He paused and glanced at the cast off clothing that littered the floor. "You are inclined to display your naïveté in a rather careless fashion Miss Grant. I do not know how life differs in Devonshire, but when a young lady plays coy with a hot-blooded brigand like Justin, she should not be too surprised if she wakens one morning with two blackened eyes and nothing remaining of her virtue. He is not a man to be teased...or trusted."

China gasped. "But I wasn't playing coy. I wasn't teasing."

"You were lucky tonight. After meeting him alone in the library in your bedclothes, you should have realized his total lack of conscience. And tonight...not even bedclothes."

China felt all the blood drain out of her face. Her knuckles ached where she clutched the wrapper tight to her body, and the words to refute the implication she was a flirt were all there at the back of her throat but they refused to take shape or sound.

"I shall take your silence as an indication of your own complicity in this matter. From this night forth, I shall instruct Mrs. Biggs to personally check your door each night when you retire to ensure you have not neglected to turn the key." He bowed stiffly and turned to leave. "Goodnight Miss Grant. What little there is left of it."