Page 12 of A Countess Captured for the Captain
“Really, Nox. I have known you for barely a day, and the circumstances of our meeting were hardly conventional,” she replied.
“Well, we have a long voyage ahead. Who knows what might happen?” he said, and jumping to his feet, he hurried down to the deck, shouting orders to the men.
Samantha watched him for a while, enjoying the warmth of the sun, though still feeling queasy at the banking of the ship, the waves hitting her from either side, as a strong breeze whipped around them.
“Daughter of a Duke, no less,” Strap said, appearing suddenly at her side and causing her to jump.
“Yes, and what of it?” she asked, eyeing him warily.
She did not like Strap. He had an odd mannerism about him, and the previous day he had done nothing but look her up and down without a shred of discretion. If Nox had not been in command of the ship, then Samantha feared for what might have become of her.
“Or a spy, perhaps,” he said, and Samantha rolled her eyes.
“Do you really think that a spy would come on board in such a manner and allow herself to be caught? I assure you, Mr. Strap, if I were a spy then I would have ensured I made a better job of ingratiating myself than I have done. All I want is to go home,” she said, and Strap kneeled down beside her, bringing his face close to hers.
“And you seem to have wrapped Nox around your little finger most conveniently. You have him sailing back to London with you, when not one of us has left the Caribbean in many a year. What is your game, Lady Samantha?” he snarled, and Samantha folded her arms and turned away.
A lie or the truth seemed to make no difference to Strap, and she would not be intimidated by such a man, nor pressured into admitting something that was not true.
“I play no game,” she replied, and muttering to himself, Strap wandered off down the steps onto the deck.
But the incident had unnerved Samantha, who could not help feeling something of a menace hanging over her. She was glad when Nox returned to her side, for he and he alone seemed to have the power to protect her.
“The men look at me strangely, I dislike it,” she said, and he smiled.
“It is rare that they see a woman, it is rare that I see a woman,” he said, coming to sit next to her on the deck.
“And am I to endure this for the whole voyage?” she asked.
“Not if you and I can be friends. They will soon learn to respect you, but that is rather up to you,” he replied, as the two of them sat gazing out across the ocean before them, and Samantha wondered if friendship with this mysterious captain might not be so bad after all–
Chapter Seven
“Ireland, Captain Nox, that there is Ireland,” one of the men said, as Nox peered through his telescope.
He could see a rocky outcrop up ahead, a few gnarly trees lining the shore, and fisherman’s huts huddled in a cove a little way further down the coast. Nodding, he folded up the telescope and handed it back to the watchman.
“Tell Strap to steer her away. It is not Ireland we are making for, but London,” he said, and the watchman nodded.
“Or do we put in there for supplies, Captain? The men are growing bored with–” he began, but Nox raised his hand for silence.
“London is our destination, that is final” he said, and the watchman hurried off, muttering under his breath.
In the weeks that had passed since they had left the Caribbean, Nox had noticed something of a surly mood among the crew. They were less willing to follow orders, quicker to question his authority, and he had noticed small groups of them gathered together, whispering among themselves, as though there were a plot gathering against him.
He had spent more time in his cabin of late, talking with Samantha and learning of her life in England. Certainly, it seemed an attractive proposition. Not just her life, but her as well. She was feisty, quick to speak her mind, witty and intelligent. There was a spirit in her he admired, and the more he had come to know her, the more his passions for her became aroused.
But despite his play acting, Nox was an honorable man, and he had done nothing more than pass the occasional suggestive comment, promising her he would not have his fun with her again, as he had done on that first evening – as much as he had wanted to. In his idle moments, he pictured her in his arms, imagined the softness of her lips, and the gentleness of her caress. It had been a long time since a woman had aroused him in such a way, and as the end of their voyage came into sight, he was growing ever more reluctant to let her go.
* * *
“We shall sail into London this morning,” Nox said, when he came to wake Samantha three days later.
They had rounded Ireland, sailed south toward Bristol and around Land’s End, following the English coast along the channel until finally entering the mouth of the Thames.
Nox was wary of arriving at the capital of an Empire in which he was wanted in a dozen of its ports. But his bravado ensured the thought did not concern him for long. He had never been to London and was certain that the conflicts of the Caribbean would not have followed him there.
Instead, he had ordered his own flag to be hoisted, and with the sails at full billow, he had setThe Rosa Mysticaon course for the docks. The sight of land had seemed to cheer the men, and Nox had promised that while he was returning Samantha home, they could indulge themselves in all that London offered.
