Really, seducing a woman didn’t require much effort on a man’s part. He merely needed to give her all his attention and pay her lavish compliments, tell her what she’d always wished to hear in her heart of hearts. After that, she’d let down her guard and kisses would follow. The jump between that and bedding was negligible. If all went well, perhaps he’d have that five hundred pounds in hand earlier than a week.
“Oh.” The blush on her cheeks deepened. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
All the better to keep her at sixes and sevens because then commonsense wouldn’t come into play. Brand once more applied his most winning grin. “Perhaps we should talk somewhere that doesn’t host the smell of goat excrement?” When he offered her his crooked arm, her eyes rounded with shock. Was she so untried that she’d never been singled out by a man before? “I promise not to bedevil you in any way,” he said, his tone cajoling.
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, which called his attention to her mouth. The top lip was slightly less full than the lower. What would it look like if she genuinely smiled? “Are you a sailor?”
That was an odd question. “I’m retired from the Navy.” He concentrated on her lips. Was she susceptible to corruption, and if she was, could he teach her all the carnal things she could do with those lips?
“My brother doesn’t like sailors or men having anything to do with the water or boats.”
What the devil was so evil about boats? Curiosity churned in his gut and scattered his inappropriate thoughts. “To each his own, but the last time I checked, I wasn’t asking your brother for a stroll. I’ve asked you.”
“Oh!” Tentatively, as if she feared he were a snake ready to strike, Miss Hayhurst reached out her hand and laid her gloved fingers upon his sleeve. “We shouldn’t go far. My brother will worry.”
That she’d decided to do something for herself? Of course he would. Brand knew the man’s type. Though he shrouded himself in matters of the church, he probably treated those in his inner circle with less care than he should. Did she toil for him in the name of godly obedience? Had she been told there was nothing else for her in life? It left a sour taste at the back of his throat. With care so he wouldn’t spook her, Brand drew her away from the goat pen in favor of walking past the large semi-circle of brightly colored wagons.
“I’d like to apologize for kissing you earlier.” If he were to properly seduce this skittish woman, he needed to be the type of man she’d no doubt dream of. “I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway.” He glanced at her, but her focus remained straight ahead. “Perhaps I was swept away by your beauty.”
An unladylike snort escaped her. “You’re having me on.” She drew them both to a stop and removed her hand from his arm. When he turned to face her with a frown, she tilted her head up and met his gaze. To give her credit, after the first curious sweep of his eye patch, she never peeked at it again. “Despite my brother’s position as well as mine, I am in possession of a mirror. I know exactly what I see each morning, which means you’re lying, mister—”
“Captain. I’m Captain Storme.” It was important that she knew he wasn’t some layabout sailor. “And no, I’m not. You have a certain… look. Slight changes to fashion and grooming would bring out your natural beauty.”
God, what gammon! This woman cared nothing for gowns or fripperies or curling rags. She would forever remain a sparrow in the midst of colorful songbirds… and promptly be forgotten.
“A captain. How marvelous!” The unexpected excitement in her reply surprised him, for he’d fully expected her to comment on her appearance. “Have you a ship?”
Obviously, she knew nothing about him. The fact left him slightly annoyed, for everyone in Ipswich had heard of him. He was rather a local hero—scoundrel—of sorts. “Not any longer. But I do own a modest sloop called Charlotte.”
“Oh, the freedom you must have, to leave the land whenever you please and sail the water until that call fades.” Her eyes had darkened slightly to sapphire. “What does it feel like?”
Once more, his eyebrows raised of their own accord. “I beg your pardon. What does what feel like?” The abrupt change in subject matter taxed his brain.
“Being upon the sea. Swimming in it, sailing it, having it around you, letting it take control.” Her voice had gone a touch breathless as she spoke. That yearning he’d glimpsed in the backs of her eyes earlier had bobbed to the forefront. “I’ve always suspected it has a mind of its own and can tell when a sailor has an affinity for it.”
“Yes, that is quite true.” But he didn’t wish to discuss the sea or sailing with her. Not right now or so soon in the conversation. Certain pieces of groundwork needed to be laid, which would make the seduction that much easier later. “How long have you been in Ipswich?”
“A year.”
“You came from London, I assume?” Her speech patterns were too refined for anywhere else.
“Yes, but in the winter, I suffered from a horrid bout of pleurisy that weakened my lungs to the extent I nearly died.” She shrugged. “The doctor told me to come here to take in the sea air, that it might help.”
“Has it?” The thought that she wasn’t strong in health tightened his chest. She seemed timid but not ailing.
“Very much so. I’m almost at full strength. Which is why I’m anxious to see and do as much as I can in Ipswich before I’ll leave with my brother to India.”
“You’re leaving?” That would squelch all his own plans.
“In a month. Unless…”
“Unless what?” He clenched his jaw. It was maddening to try and talk with her.
Elizabeth met his gaze. “Unless there is a compelling reason I should say. As of yet, I have no path of my own nor a direction, so this is what I must do.”
“You are not a slave; do what you wish.”
“Perhaps. One of the travelers told me I was at a fork in the road.”