The door slammed behind Gavin. What happened? One minute he was kissing her throat and positioning himself between her thighs, and the next he was hurling her clothes at her and ordering her out. Out of the room. Out of his bed.
Confusion had Alice staring at the back of the door. He couldn’t have left like that. He’d get two paces down the galley way and realize he’d made a mistake and he’d be back.
As the seconds ticked by, the sting of his rejection burned deeper. Alice covered her face with her hands. She could still sense him, touching her breasts, stroking her, filling her. Her body pulsed with the pleasured ache of knowing a man. So this is what all the fuss was about.
Part of her was grateful. Gavin, being more experienced, obviously knew how to please a woman. Alice sighed. The way her body reacted to a swirl here, a kiss there. With each caress, tiny sparks of light danced upon her skin. When his hand slipped lower and his fingers moved upon the sensitive flesh between her thighs, she never imagined anything could feel like that.
The pain of his first thrust didn’t surprise her. She’d heard from enough women to know what to expect, but what happened after the initial pain lost its burn had been stunning. The power of him. His strength. The smell of his skin. His…shoulders.
But now, throwing her clothing at her. He’d changed her feelings of pleasure to ones of guilt. She felt shamed, used, dirty.
Alice moved off the tangled bed and started to dress. Her clothes were cold and damp as if they held Gavin’s icy rejection in the weave of the fabric. She shivered into them, sliding the trousers over the new tenderness of her body. Where were her boots? She clutched one sock in her hand. The other had to be in this room, but searching was to no avail.
She had them when she marched past Jessup. Alice dropped back onto the side of the bed remembering the terrifying event. She’d climbed the bloody mast. It must be her night to soar to new heights only to fall hard to the deck when it was over. Alice gave a bitter laugh and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Scanning the room again, it still didn’t answer the question of her boots.
Well, she wasn’t going to sit here any longer. At the door, she gave a final look about. The room was as it had always been. Neat, tidy. Except for Gavin’s bed.
Alice eased her way into the hall. The storm had quieted, and she didn’t want to announce to anyone below decks where she had spent her time. The latch closed with a soft click, and she paused and dropped her forehead to the rough boards of the door. Why did this cut so deep. How could she let herself care so much? Stand up and gather your self- respect if not your damn boots, Alice Louise Tupper. It was nothing to him. Damn it. Move. Do not cry.
She sucked in a deep breath and pushed away from the door. Turning in the direction of her bunk, she saw him. Jessup. His dark eyes narrowed at her before doing a slow appraisal of her. A smile curled one side of his mouth as he looked from her to Gavin’s door and back.
Could this night get anymore humiliating? Notching her chin, she put one bare foot in front of the other and moved to pass him.
He muttered low as she made her way past, “Whore.”
Alice forced herself not to break stride. Never stumbled. Behind her Jessup laughed. The grating of it echoed in her ears until she reached her quarters and locked the door behind her.
Jessup? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? By morning, the entire crew would have heard how she rode out the storm in Gavin’s bed. Or would he keep his mouth shut for fear of Gavin’s retaliation? Jessup couldn’t know Gavin tossed her out. How long before he figured out his captain’s whore wasn’t even that? Swimming to Virginia might yet be an option.
Lighting her lantern, Alice choked back a sob. Her boots, tall, polished, and proud, stood next to her cot. They’d been shined and buffed to a soft glow. Her lost sock, neatly folded, hung over the top of one. Had her heart not been carved into neat slices, she could almost laugh at the bitter truth. He cared more for her footwear. “Damn you, Gavin Quinn. I’ll never be able to put on another stocking without thinking of you, you b-bastard.”
It was then she caught sight of Bump curled up under her cot. Alice crouched down and laid a hand on his arm. Wide, dark eyes met hers. “What are you doing under there?” As he crawled out from under the bed, Alice saw the gash under his eyebrow. Dried blood crusted on his cheek and stained his clothes. She reached out to him. “Oh, Bump.”
Setting him on the cot, she soaked the washing cloth with the last of her water and began washing away the blood. “It doesn’t look too bad.” She knelt and laid the cool cloth on the lump. “How long have you been hiding here?” Lifting the cloth, Alice surveyed the damage. “Don’t think you’ll need to have the surgeon stitch you up.” She wiped his face and gave him a reassuring smile. “You’ll live.”
Bump slid off the edge of the cot and laid his head on her shoulder. Pulling the child into her arms, he jerked as she tightened her embrace and scrambled away. Alice’s already bruised heart ached for him. “I promise I would never hurt you.”
Alice shifted to sit upon the floor and held her arms wide. He eyed her warily but after a long moment of hesitation, he curled into her lap and rested against her. She didn’t try to hold him, but began to stroke his back. “My poor babe.” Setting her chin on the top of his head, she sighed. The gentle magic of the child’s weight leaning against her began to heal her heart. “Whatever you do, sweet one, don’t tell Captain Quinn we coddled.”
She closed her eyes and began to hum.
* * * *
Alice reported early for duty in the magazine. Damage from the storm was minimal due to their hasty precautions. MacTavish marched in and stared her down.
He crossed burly arms over his barrel of a chest. “I know what ye done last night.”
Alice went still and swallowed hard. How could he know? Did it show? An old cook back in Weatherington used to say she could see the look in her maid’s eyes when they’d been lifting their skirts to the grooms in the barn. Said it was like they wore a flag of their sins across their face. Now that she thought about it, the old cook did look a bit like MacTavish. Chin whiskers and all. “What are you talking about?”
“In that cocka of a storm.” He shook a thick finger at her. “Don’t be playin’ coy wit me. I ken all about it.”
She turned her back on him. “I don’t know what you’re going on about. Can we please work?” Maybe she could distract him. “Tell me how you make red smoke.”
“Nice try, Lassie.”
Alice shot a glance over her shoulder. Fine. If MacTavish knew about her night with Gavin, then the whole crew had been told. She might as well face it. “Damn, Jessup,” she mumbled.
“If’n it be any comfort, Jessup’ll be getting his.”
She knitted her brows. “Not from me, he won’t.”
“He did ye wrong. Makin’ ye climb the riggin’. Crew’s not takin’ that light.”
Relief washed over her. “Oh, that.”
“Yer daft as a hatter, but I got te be handin’ it to ya. Took some stones, it did, gettin’ up there in those seas.” He tipped his head and narrowed his gaze. “Was there some other foolishness happen in the storm?”
Heat flared in her cheeks. “Of course not.”
MacTavish raised a shrewd eyebrow. Alice looked away. “I’d prefer to forget last night ever happened.”
“Ye keep actin’ like this, ye’re gonna make a name fer yerself.”
“Oh, I know the name,” she mumbled remembering Jessup’s parting word.
“Might just earn the right te learn me secrets, ye keep it up.”
Alice smirked. Jessup was most likely spreading her secret all over the ship. “It was a one-time thing. A mistake I won’t be foolish enough to repeat.”
Neo ducked into the armory. “Tupper, on deck.”
“Why?”
“Capt’n’s order.”
As Alice followed the wide back of Neo topside, she worked on keeping her emotions in check. She didn’t want to see Gavin and couldn’t let him see how much he’d hurt her.
Ahead, a group gathered at the base of the main mast. Gavin’s bright hair was a beacon in the sunlight. Alice looked away. Beside him, stood Jessup. His hands were bound, but he spat on the deck boards as she approached.
“Tupper,” Gavin began. Alice studied the stock about his neck. If she looked into his eyes… He continued. “It’s been decided amongst the crew. A great wrong was committed against you last night.” Around him, several men muttered their agreement. “It falls to you as an honorary member of this crew to levy the punishment against the guilty man.”
A great wrong. A great wrong. The words followed one another around and around in her mind. She closed her eyes and gave her head a quick shake. “I don’t understand.”
“Jessup did ye dirty, Tupper,” cried Finch. “Ye ’ave te say what his punishment be.”
She looked at Finch in disbelief. “Why me?”
Alice could feel Gavin’s gaze upon her. “You’re to impose his penalty.”
Jessup glared at her. She saw the muscle jump along his jaw. When she met his stare, the corner of his mouth tipped in a knowing sneer. If she called him out for what he’d done, he’d tell everyone she was a whore and drag her into the muck right along with him. It would be the only way he’d save face among the crew. There was only one other solution.
“I hold no ill will toward Mister Jessup.”
“Tupper, he could’a killed ya,” Robbins sputtered.
“But he didn’t. I was asked to do what any other seaman on this ship would have been asked. There was no wrong done to me.” Alice risked a quick glance in Gavin’s direction. “Not by Mister Jessup. He should be released.”
Jessup’s glower grew darker at her absolution. She had him, and by the murderous look in his eye, he knew it too. If he said anything about her and Gavin now, it would appear he was concocting stories to justify what he’d done. No one would believe him. She’d outsmarted him. Disgraced him in front of the crew. In front of his followers. If she hadn’t been an enemy before, she was now. “If that’s all, I’d like to return to my duties.”
Alice didn’t wait to be dismissed, but as she attempted to leave, Gavin stopped her.
“If that’s your final say.”
She replied to the toes of his boots. “It is.”
“Then so be it, but as captain of this ship, I charge First Mate Jessup with endangering a member of this crew, thereby putting the ship and the rest of the crewmembers at risk. Mister Jessup, you are hereby on half rations for the next fortnight.”
Jessup’s glare turned black with rage. As she walked away, she could almost feel the heat of his fury burning into her back.
Returning to the armory, MacTavish handed her a beautifully carved baldric of thick black leather. “Sharpened the blade there and shortened up the belt te fit.”
Jaxon Steele’s sword sat in a matching tooled scabbard tipped in silver, which hung off the wide strap. And the pistol MacTavish chose for her sat clean, oiled, and snug in its holster.
“You made this for me?”
“Were ye plannin’ te carry yer weapons in yer pocket?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Now don’t be gettin’ all soft on me. Just take it.”
Alice slipped it over her head. The position of the sword and gun were easily within reach. She pulled the pistol, and pointed it at the door. Not too heavy. It fit her hand perfectly. As though the two were destined for one another.
Closing one eye, she aimed for a knothole in the door. “Teach me to load.”