“Because you’re keeping it that way.”

Nathan couldn’t take his eyes off Judith as she angrily stood up with her bucket and came over to the side of his desk where he was pointing. Getting back on her hands and knees, she grabbed the rag out of the water and slapped it hard enough on the floor for the water to splash in his direction.

“If you wanted to polish my boots, you should have said so.” He turned in his chair so she could reach his feet.

She glared up at him. “Enjoying yourself, aren’t you—a little too much?”

He grinned. “Actually, yes.”

He’d been embarrassed when she’d first entered his cabin the morning after they’d sailed from Bridgeport. It had none of the luxuries she was used to and barely any furniture. He couldn’t imagine what she’d thought of it. The Pearl was three-masted like her uncle’s ship, but not as long and not as wide. His cabin might be located in the same part of the ship as the captain’s cabin on The Maiden George, but it wasn’t even half the size. His father hadn’t slept in his cabin, merely used it as a chart room and a place to dine with Corky—and Nathan, when he was aboard. Nathan had turned the cabin into his personal quarters and had added a hammock, which was where he slept. One of Bostwick’s men in New London had put a cot in it, an alteration that Nathan didn’t mind.

Nathan didn’t know the three Andersons, Warren, Thomas, and Drew, whom James had picked to accompany them. He would have preferred for Boyd to join them, but he recalled James saying that Boyd would be useless for half of the voyage because of his seasickness. James and the three Anderson brothers were pulling their weight, though Nathan had caught all of them giving orders to the other sailors, or starting to before they remembered they weren’t in command on this voyage. For men who’d been captains for most of their lives, it was a hard habit to break.

The first morning at sea Judith had made his bed, dusted his desk, swept his floor, and fetched his breakfast, all without saying a word. She didn’t castigate him for putting her in the position of a servant, she didn’t demand to know why he’d done that, and she displayed no resentment either. She had seemed more the martyr, willing to do whatever it took to rescue her cousin. She’d even appeared a little grateful to him for helping them with the rescue mission. But Nathan didn’t want her gratitude. Although he was keeping his anger in check, he still felt plenty of it—especially, toward her.

He’d trusted her. That’s why the rancor wouldn’t go away. He’d never trusted anyone quite like that, when the odds warned that he shouldn’t. She’d even made him look at nabobs differently, showing him they weren’t all heartless snobs the way Angie’s in-laws had been. Only to prove in the end that he’d been right all along.

Corky had given up his cabin for her. The Pearl only had three of them, and the Anderson brothers had claimed the other. Nathan didn’t know where James was sleeping, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was in the corridor outside Judith’s cabin, or even on the floor inside it. Nathan had given his word he wouldn’t touch her and he wouldn’t, but James was still helping him to keep his word.

The man never knocked when he entered Nathan’s cabin and made no bones about deliberately failing to do so, unless he knew Judith wasn’t in there. Then he knocked. But when she was in the cabin and Nathan was, too, James showed up once or twice. Unexpectedly. Quietly. He didn’t even provide an excuse for it! Nathan found it annoying, but he wasn’t fool enough to ask him to stop it, when he knew very well he’d crossed the line with his terms. It had been a moment of madness that James would no doubt make him pay for as soon as James had his daughter back.

Ironically, Nathan shouldn’t even be here. He could have checked in other towns for more sailors to hire for his crew instead of the town Judith was in. He should have been on his way back to England and his own nieces, instead of embroiling himself in Malory family problems. If only he didn’t know Jacqueline, gutsy, brazen, funny—and Judith’s dearest friend. He could have said no if he’d never met Jack or hadn’t seen that pleading look in Judith’s eyes there on the dock. . . .

And Judith hadn’t remained the silent martyr for long. Her testiness had showed up the first time he ordered her to do something she wasn’t expecting to have to do, such as washing his clothes or scrubbing his floor again today when she’d just done it yesterday.

“This isn’t tit for tat a’tall,” she pointed out now. “I barely asked anything of you.”

“But you could have, darlin’. You can’t imagine how many sleepless nights I had, thinking of all the ways you could have taken advantage of me.”

She blushed furiously. He relented and put his feet back under his desk before she actually reached for them. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she began scrubbing around the corner of his desk. Beautiful as she was in a dress or a gown, she looked quite fetching in her boyish garb, which was all she’d been wearing on his ship. Right now he had a glorious view of her derriere, which was outlined nicely by her britches as she leaned forward to swab the floor. It was getting harder and harder for him not to touch her, particularly when he saw her in such an alluring pose and she got so close he could smell her, as she was now. He had to be a masochist to put himself through this when he still wanted her so much, just so he could squeeze out a few more days with her before they parted and he never saw her again.

Glancing up at him again, she suddenly asked, “Who let you out of the brig?”

Pleased that she was still curious about him, but angry because of the subject she’d just raised, he realized she was doing it again, stirring contradictory emotions in him. But he wasn’t surprised. She had no idea of the depth of emotion she’d tapped in him. He’d never given her a clue about his feelings, not even that amazing night when he’d made love to her. But the truth was, he was afraid he’d fallen in love with her. That there was no hope for a future with her and had never been fueled his anger.

“I wasn’t awake to see who it was, but it obviously wasn’t you,” he said bitterly.

She started to reply, but changed her mind, started to again, but again closed her mouth.

His brows snapped together as he watched her. “What?!”

She glanced down at the floor and said so quietly he barely heard it, “I was going to.”

“Going to what?”

“Let you out. I waited until everyone was asleep. I waited too long. You were already gone.”

He snorted. “How convenient for you to say so now.”

Her cobalt eyes rounded in surprise as they met his again. “You don’t believe me?”

“Why would I?”

“Perhaps because I’ve never lied to you? I’ve lied for you, but never to you, well, at least nothing of import that I can recall.”

“Import? What does that even mean?”

She shrugged. “I might have lied about members of my family, but family secrets are family secrets, you understand, and they are not to be revealed except by those members involved and at their discretion. Certainly not at my discretion. You, on the other hand, lied to me. Or are you going to maintain at this late point that you were never a smuggler?”

“D’you really think I’d answer that? You, darlin’, can’t be trusted.”

She stiffened, obviously insulted, but he couldn’t miss the hurt that briefly flickered in her eyes, too, which twisted his gut. He started to reach for her, but caught himself at the last second. That damned promise . . . And like clockwork, James opened the door—and frowned when he didn’t immediately see Judith.

But she stood up, guessing who had arrived without knocking, and with her bucket in hand, told Nathan stiffly, “The floor is finished and it’s time for your lunch.”

She hurried out of the room without glancing at her uncle, but James didn’t leave with her. He came forward slowly, his ominous demeanor predicting payback might be coming sooner rather than later.

“I know this isn’t your fight, Tremayne, which is why your terms were outrageous—”

“No dire predictions, please. I’m not abusing her in the least. And you are mistaken. I was compelled to come along.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize I was so persuasive.”

Nathan barked a laugh. “You aren’t. But my reasons are my own. As long as nothing happens to this”—he picked up a document from his desk drawer and dropped it back in—“then when I return to England isn’t an issue.”

“And that piece of paper is?”

“Proof that I accomplished my mission.”

“I’m all the proof you need, old boy. Or in case I don’t survive this, my family is.”

“No offense, Lord Malory, but I prefer the document that was demanded of me.”

“I begin to see . . . stipulation for a pardon?”

Nathan laughed again. “You are amazing. Your deductive reasoning astounds.”

“So you don’t care to own up to why you need a pardon? You don’t need to. I’ve led an eventful life, seen more things than I ever cared to. Even though you will be sailing home with your ship, the fact that you must still deliver written proof that you accomplished your goal speaks for itself. You’re aiming for a promotion or a pardon, and since you aren’t a military man . . .” James sauntered back to the door, but paused a moment to glance back. “I liked you from the start. Decking my brother, for whatever reason, took guts. I hope I’m not going to have to end up killing you.”

Nathan leaned forward. “Did you let me out of the brig on your ship?”

James’s expression didn’t change, not even a little. It was annoyingly devoid of emotion of any sort. “That would mean you owe me a favor, wouldn’t it?”

“You aren’t going to answer?”

“Me? Do good deeds?” James laughed as he left the cabin.

Nathan stared at the door for a moment, frustrated. That was a detestable habit Malory had, of leaving things up in the air like that. Of course he hadn’t done the deed, when he was the one who’d put Nathan in that brig in the first place. The Malorys now knew that Catherine was their thief, but they hadn’t known it when they were all on The Maiden George. Nathan was not going to look for a reason to be beholden to that man. He much preferred it the other way around.

Chapter Forty-Four

Four days out and they still hadn’t sighted the ship they were trying to catch. James had said it could take upward of a week to reach St. Kitts, less only if they were lucky with the currents and the wind. They’d been sure that overtaking Catherine’s ship en route would be the only way to rescue Jack without a loss of life—on their side. But obviously the other ship’s head start was an advantage they couldn’t overcome, so an alternative plan had to be considered.

To that end Judith had a purpose other than delivering Nathan’s breakfast when she arrived at his cabin this morning. He was standing at his desk, but he immediately glanced at her, his eyes lingering for a long moment, before he looked down again at the charts that were spread out on his desk. James’s charts of the Caribbean. They had been soaking wet when Artie had fetched them from The Maiden George before they had sailed. But now that they had dried out, they were still readable.

“Only one plate again?” Nathan said before she could broach her subject. “You don’t follow orders very well, do you?”

She smiled. “Eating with you isn’t appropriate—while I’m acting as your servant.”

“I’m not releasing you from your job as my cabin boy.”

“Did I ask you to?”

“No, you didn’t—and why haven’t you?”

She was surprised. This was the first time he’d revealed that her complete compliance with his demand might have baffled him. But she would never admit how thrilled she’d been to be included in his terms. She’d been a little nervous at first, but that hadn’t lasted long when it became clear that he only wanted her to perform the customary chores of a cabin boy. He had no way of knowing that the work she was doing actually made her feel as if she was helping in a small way to get Jack back.

In answer, she said, “So you could tell me no? That’s quite all right, thank you.” Then she quickly mentioned, “We’re getting close to St. Kitts. Strategy needs to be discussed with my family. I suggested we have dinner tonight here in your cabin so you could be included.”

He raised a brow. “A little presumptuous of you, wasn’t it?”

She gave him an innocent look. “You don’t want to be included?”

“With you serving dinner? I can imagine how well that will go over with your family. How many of them will I have to fight off before they get around to discussing anything?”

“I won’t rub their faces in your orneriness. Tonight I’ll eat with you.”

He laughed. “Is that what I am? Ornery?”

“Better than acknowledging that you’re getting revenge against me.”

“Never that, darlin’.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“A simple need for a cabin boy.”

She twisted her lips in annoyance that he wasn’t any more willing to tell her his real reason for making her his servant than she was willing to say why she didn’t mind. She went over to make his bed. She could feel his eyes still on her. It was almost as if he were actually touching her. And why didn’t he?! Yes, he’d promised her uncle he wouldn’t, and James had assured her that he and his brothers-in-law would mutiny if Nathan did, but she’d never expected Nathan to adhere to his word so literally.