Page 25 of The Captain of Betrayal
"No," she laughed, squeezing his arm in order to draw him back from his anger. "And if there were, I'm perfectly capable of managing my own affairs--though I thank you for your concern."
"Your concerns are my concern now, Polly," James replied seriously, once more halting so that he could turn to look her in the eye.
Polly gave a gulp at his determined expression; this was not how she had anticipated their conversation would go.
"Thank you," was all that she could manage to say in reply, before she began to walk again. "In truth, what is troubling me dear Captain, is that you make your living at sea, yet here you are on land these past few weeks. I am worried for your purse."
"My purse?"
She could hear the note of amusement in his tone, though she ignored it and ploughed on.
"Yes, I should hate to think that you will bankrupt yourself for the sake of my friendship--it is not worth that, James."
"Your friendship is worth more to me than anything else in this world, and I'll be damned before I leave you again." James replied fiercely. The expression on his handsome face was almost angry, though he relaxed a little upon seeing Polly's own startled reaction to his words.
"If it is my purse you are concerned of, have no fear," he continued, in a lighter tone. "I was given an assignment toward the latter years of the war to weed out spies crossing the channel. My men and I sailed as privateers, sanctioned by Whitehall, and for our efforts we were given a letter of marque."
"Was that not very dangerous?" Polly questioned, biting her lip with latent nerves for him.
"It was," James shrugged and gave a lazy smile. "That's why they gave us the letter. The government knew that we would risk anything for the money we might make, though I think they thought that we would not live to collect it."
"But you did."
"Yes, and I am now a very wealthy man," he replied, his eyes distant and disinterested in the wealth he spoke of. "So, please, do not upset yourself over my finances Polly. You'll find that they are quite in order."
They had begun walking again, in order to catch up with Emily and the twins, who were busy examining a rock pool on the pebbled beach. Polly's mind was awhirl with all this new information; James had been a privateer, James had risked his life for his country, James was exceedingly wealthy.
"Why did you return to sea?" she questioned, "If you had made a fortune during the war, why did you not just retire?"
"I realised that I had no home," again James shrugged, but the lazy ease was gone from him and he looked almost wretched. "All I knew was the sea. I thought that one day I might find you, in some far-flung port, and that thought was all that kept me going at times."
Polly held her breath, wondering if this was true. His expression was sincere, his blue eyes clouded with emotion, giving her no cause to doubt him.
"What would you have done if you had found me married?" she whispered, thinking of the fisherman whose hand she had almost accepted.
"I would have begged for your forgiveness, begged for your friendship and cursed your husband with every swear word known to man," James laughed.
They had nearly reached their companions, so Polly dawdled a little, not wishing to break the spell between them. As if sensing what she felt, James reached for her hand and turned it upward so that he could examine her palm.
"It's still there," he said with satisfaction as he traced his finger along the thin scar on her palm. Polly shivered, despite the warmth; his touch held a power over her, no matter how light or innocent.
"We are one, Polly Jenkins," he said solemnly, "Even though you are still a little uncertain of me, you know that we are joined forever."
"I'm not uncertain..." Polly began to reply, then trailed off quietly. He was right; she was unsure of him, unsure of his intentions and unsure of the way that he made her feel. As though reading her mind, James gave a bark of laughter, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin.
"You are," he countered, his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. His gaze seemed to burn her skin, and a flush crept up her chest. She looked away, but he cupped her chin with his hand and turned her face back toward him.
"I will not leave you Polly," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I will never leave you. I love you, and I will wait until we are both old and grey to hear you say that back to me."
She was so overcome that she could not reply, she merely blinked back the tears that threatened and gave a nod. Thankfully, they were spotted by Emily, who ran over to grab James' hand to lead him toward the rock pool. Polly stayed where she was, half listening to her sister's chatter of crabs and crustaceans, though mostly lost in a world of her own.
Was she being too cautious in her dealings with James? She knew that he was true, honest and sincere, but her heart--her stubborn heart--held on to its reserve. With just one sentence, all those years ago, he had smashed her heart into a million tiny, little pieces, and she was reluctant to hand it back over to him, lest he was careless with it again.
The twins shouted across to her, begging her to come look, and with some relief she cast aside her worries and joined them. Once they were finished exploring the cove, with its pools and deep, dark cave where smugglers had hidden their loot many years ago, they settled down for the picnic that James had brought.
"You didn't pack much," Emily observed as the luncheon was spread out upon the blanket. There were cold meats, salad and strawberries, which would have been more than enough for two, but seemed a bit pitiful for five hungry people.
"I am skipping luncheon today, Lady Emily," James replied gravely, "For I am running to fat since I left my posting."
