Page 21 of The Captain of Betrayal
Polly nodded, and would have replied, if Emily had not returned with two sea-bass wrapped in paper. Polly stood, making to get to work, but Olive beat her to it, taking the parcel of fish from Emily and holding it aloft. It really was most unfair, for Olive was a good five inches taller than Polly.
"No," the Duchess of Everleigh said, wagging a finger at Polly as though she were a child. "I'll prepare supper. You take yourself out for a walk, and let someone else take charge for once."
"You can't prepare dinner; you're a Duchess," Polly argued.
"Yes, and before I was a Duchess I was a footman, maid, cook and gardener in my father's house," Olive replied firmly. "I'm well capable of cooking two fish, and besides, I have Emily to help me. Now go."
With a show of reluctance, Polly grabbed her tartan shawl, which was draped on the chair by the stove, and left the house by the back door. She passed through the garden, and out the side-gate, and decided to amble into the village to see if there was anyone about.
Of course, it being nearly dinner-time on a Sunday, St Jarvis was deserted, save one or two of the local cats, who cast her bored looks as she passed. Not knowing what to do, but not wanting to go home where Olive would surely berate her, Polly decided to walk down to the pier, to see if there was anyone about.
The little village of St Jarvis was built on the side of a hill; Polly's boarding house was situated at the very top beside the church, and a road ran the whole way through the village leading down to the old stone pier. Polly passed The Fisherman's Friend, whose door was latched shut, though she could hear Mr Lawless singing to himself within.
There was no sign of life when she reached the pier; all that was to be seen were empty fishing boats, bobbing in their moorings. She let out a contented sigh as she listened to the sound of water gently lapping the walls of the pier.
It was heaven here, so safe, so peaceful, so--
"Argh" Polly gave a muffled cry as someone behind her placed their hand over her mouth. The person's arm gently gripped her elbow, and a voice whispered in her ear.
"It's only me, don't fret. I just wanted to--Argh, you bit me!"
"Of course I bit you," Polly said, whirling around to face James Black, "I'd bite anyone who accosted me like that. What's the meaning of all this?"
"I've come to abduct you," James replied solemnly, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement at her outrage.
"Abduct me?"
"Yes, I have it on great authority that the only way to make a woman listen to you in St Jarvis is by means of kidnap."
Her old friend delivered this statement with such a serious expression on his face that Polly wasn't certain if he was jesting, or actually believed it.
"And," James continued, frowning a little, "I'm so desperate to speak with you, that I'm taking the advice of the local fishermen who prop up the bar in the village."
"Oh," Polly had to bite back a laugh at the forlorn look on her friend's face. A strand of his hair had fallen across his forehead, and for a moment all she longed to do was to reach out and smooth it away.
"You didn't need to resort to abduction to talk to me," she replied, unable to meet his eye as she fought the strange feeling of nervousness that fluttered within her chest. "I have been thinking that I can't hold onto my grudge forever."
"You're forgiving me?"
Her old friend looked so hopeful that it near broke Polly's heart. How could she explain the complexity of her feelings? Yes, she was forgiving him, but it did not mean that they would return to the way they had been as children.
"Yes," she said flatly, finally meeting his eye. A jolt of shock went through her as green met blue, and she shivered despite the warmth of the afternoon. Was it her imagination, or had he too seemed startled by the connection?
Polly had expected a more jovial reaction from James at her words, or at the very least a smile, but instead he frowned, his dark eyebrows knitted together in thought. Polly saw that he was struggling with something, and she suspected immediately what it was; he wanted more than just forgiveness.
"Thank you," he finally said, with the same tone a man climbing the gallows might use. "It is more than I deserve. I know that I can never undo what I did..."
"You can't," Polly agreed, "But it was years ago, so we must forget it. Honestly, James, I wish you every happiness that life can offer. Now I must get home, I've left a duchess boiling potatoes, which is not the done thing..."
She turned to leave, but before she could, James reached out and grabbed her wrist. His hand was so big that it easily encircled her whole wrist, and his fingers were warm against her skin. She knew that she should have been annoyed with him for taking such liberties, but the second that their skin touched, her brain immediately stopped working. It was ridiculous, for she was no green girl, or a young miss, but his touch affected her so much that she struggled to catch her breath.
"Are you going to attempt another abduction, Captain Black?" she asked archly, hoping that he did not hear the slight catch in her voice.
"If needs be, I'll throw you over my shoulder and row us to the Isle of Man, to make you forgive me properly."
"I have forgiven you."
It had been years since Polly had been involved in any kind of scrap or scrape, but the urge to kick Captain Black in the shins was overwhelming. Anger, the kind that had earned her the nickname Polly the Jack, surged within her and she knew that with any more provocation, all hell would break loose.
