"God, you are a fool. I swear the alcohol has pickled your brain."
"I am indebted to my drinking. Staying on the bottle is the only thing that prevented me from succumbing to our poisoned water," he thundered.
"I'll tell you again, someone else did this. Most likely the same person who crippled my ship."
"Then what were you doing in the hold?"
"Well, spying, of course."
She said it in such a matter-of-fact way, he was tempted to believe her. But he'd never had an enemy as bitter as Lassiter, and it would make sense that he would find a way to retaliate after their fight.
"I don't believe you. Your father was probably desperate to win to pay for all your frivolous luxuries."
She answered with a strangely blank look, then explained, "My father was investigating the repeated accidents occurring with the larger lines. He was at the Mermaid that night to get information because he believes someone's sabotaging them. My vote was adamantly on you. My father and Chancey thought Tallywood--"
He let out a laugh.
"My sentiments exactly," she agreed. "I also believed you had something to do with my father's continued imprisonment. We had a list of several suspects, but I was convinced you were cold enough to do it all. I wanted either to clear you or gather evidence against you."
"And which did you accomplish?"
"At the time, I thought you had nothing to do with it. But now, after what you've done to me and my crew, there can be little doubt."
"You're lying," he said evenly. "One aspect of your tale rings false, princess. No one would suspect Tallywood over me for something like this." With a last look, he stormed out the door.
Nicole was well enough to go about on deck, but there was no way Derek could allow her out, not with the crew fuming about her being on board. Although they understood why a man would want to keep a prisoner like her, they'd hoped he would send her to jail with the rest of her crew.
Derek would be forced to escort her everywhere she went, and he didn't relish spending that much time with the taciturn girl. When she did speak, she was belligerent and insulting.
As he'd expected, she started demanding to go out shortly after they'd sailed from Cape Town.
He thought he could easily deflect her by saying, "I'll escort you topside as soon as you tell me why you poisoned my crew."
"One more time--I did not poison your blasted crew."
"So be it. When you're ready to tell me, I'll take you out."
"You don't have to take me. Just let me out! Are you afraid I'll get away? I haven't been able to take any sightings of my whereabouts, but I know we're close to the Antarctic. Do you think I'll attempt a swimming escape? Perhaps I could paddle a little chunk of ice back to the Cape," she said with a nasty smile.
He answered her smile with a patronizing one of his own. "The crew...dislikes you. I'm not certain you'd want to be out there without me."
She narrowed her eyes at him and looked to be gulping back whatever vicious retort she'd been thinking of. The girl had a stubborn streak a mile wide. But then, so did he. He meant it when he said she'd have to confess before he let her out. He would break her down.
Turning to walk to the window, she took a deep breath. "You must understand I can't tell you about your poisoning because I know nothing about it. You are only butting your head against an unbreachable wall."
"I think it's you who are mistaken. You'll tell me, or you'll spend the next two months in this cabin."
She shook her head and faced him with a proud look. "That statement just shows that you don't know me at all. If you think you can keep me when I want to go, then you have truly lost your senses."
She tilted her head and tapped her finger on one cheek. "Hmmm, I've heard that can happen to one if one were, say...a drunk. But I suppose that in your case"--she paused, looking him over--"it could be age related."
For the rest of the morning, Nicole replayed her exchange with Sutherland. She'd boldly told him there could be no doubt that it was he who'd sunk her ship. Now, uncertainty was all she felt. He wouldn't maintain his innocence for this long if he was guilty. A man with his disregard for...well, everything, would simply own up to it. Plus, he'd wanted to believe that Tallywood had been a main suspect. It was as if Sutherland wanted to know he wouldn't immediately be connected to any treachery in their sailing community. If he'd done it, he wouldn't be tempted to believe her.
If his sad determination that he'd be accused first swayed her, then his undiminished animosity toward her convinced her. He really thought she'd poisoned his crew. She'd been certain he'd sunk her ship. Now she concluded someone else had hurt them both. She felt a twinge of guilt over her insults that morning, but pushed it away.
So he hadn't sunk her ship--one less thing she could hate him for. And it was hard to hold his treatment of her against him when he believed she'd poisoned his men. But she could still despise him for jailing her crew at the Cape.
There was nothing for her to do but bide her time. Her injuries had healed, and he knew it. So far she hadn't pressed about wanting to go topside, but after the storm they'd just sailed through, she really would get sick if she couldn't go out soon.
When he came to the cabin at noontime, she was dressed in her own clothes and pacing.
"Captain Sutherland? May I speak with you?" She could be polite when it suited her.
He sank down on the edge of the bunk and pulled off his boots. He was soaked through and looked done in. "What do you want?" His tone was short of civil.
Lord, he was burned by her comments that morning. Captain Sutherland had some chinks in his armor. She tucked that information away for later use.
"I was hoping that you would be gracious enough to escort me to the deck today, since the storm has finally broken."
"No," he said without even pausing to consider it.
"No? Just like that?" she cried.
"Yes."
Her face burned from holding in the bitter words she was dying to say. She couldn't do it. Not another day down here. "Sutherland...please."
Ignoring her, he walked to his chest and pulled out dry clothes. He threw them on the bed and began drawing his wet shirt over his head. She dragged her gaze from that wide expanse of damp chest. Sutherland was a cruel, arrogant boor; so why did the sight of his body still affect her?
She averted her face so she could speak steadily. "I would ask you to reconsider. It's bordering on inhumane to keep me down here."
When he continued dressing and said nothing, she turned to him again, and couldn't say if she was disappointed or relieved to see he'd already changed his pants.
As per her plan, if he was unresponsive, she'd just have to lie. Collapsing into a chair, she raised a hand to her head. "I think that the lack of fresh air and sunlight is making the headaches come back."
For a second, she thought he looked concerned.
"Is that so?"
Damn, why did he sound like he didn't believe her? "Yes, I'm afraid it is. Please, just an hour a day. I can work. I can pull my own load."
"We don't need anyone to cook or sew for us. And we have someone who launders. You are useless to me."
"Useless? Useless? You only named the chores that women usually do on shore. Is that all you think I'm capable of?"
"I know lots of things you're capable of," he sneered.
That bastard!
When he stood up to leave, having obviously finished this conversation, her anger deflated. The thought of another day cooped up in his cabin made her want to cry.
She finally found her tongue when he was halfway out the door.
"But what am I to do all day?" she asked in a small, lame voice.
"I don't bloody well care what you do."
When she heard the click of the door lock, her misery once again yielded to fury. Every chantey the crew sang and every tack the ship made only provoked her more. It wasn't natural to be locked down here, especially for something she didn't do.
By God, now she wanted to poison him!
She searched the cabin but couldn't find anything that she'd be willing to break or disfigure. Truthfully, it went against her nature to be destructive. She preferred to create....
An idea surfaced. Her eyes flitted toward her sea chest, the same chest Sutherland had avoided as though it had teeth. Here, right within her grasp, was her revenge. He would regret his treatment of her. And after she'd finished, he'd never be able to forget her.
"Captain Sutherland?" Bigsby inquired with a frown when he stalked to the deck.