Chapter Nine
Brand’s mind reeled. Anticipation streaked down his spine to lodge into his shaft as he turned toward his fellows, who stared at him with varying degrees of interest and envy. “Boys, I’ll have to ask that you excuse me from our customary game. I believe I’ll win our wager this afternoon.” For there’d been no mistaking the invitation in her eyes when she’d asked him to come sailing. What had driven her to seek him out at the tavern?
“You’re a damned lucky dog, Captain,” George said. A trace of admiration lingered in his expression as he scratched his fingers through his shaggy beard. “She’s not the frumpy, ugly thing we’ve always seen.”
“No she is not,” he replied with a grin. Faint pride filled his chest at knowing that he’d been the one to encourage her out of that shell. “I hope to give you an update soon. Best have your accounting affairs in order.” Once he won the five hundred pounds, he meant to put out inquiries around the harbor regarding ships for sale, specifically in a schooner-sized vessel.
John nodded. “Good fortune to you, Captain. We had every faith in your abilities.”
“Thank you.” Brand took his leave. He quickly made his way to his rooms, where he tidied himself up, shaved, combed his hair, and collected an envelope from his bedside table drawer where he kept a supply of lambskin sheaths. One could continue being a successful rake only if one didn’t impregnate the women one bedded.
Why did she want brandy though?Looking forward to discovering why, he left his rooms, stopping by the tavern on his way out for the spirits.
Twenty minutes later, he arrived at the wharf and the slip where the Charlotte was moored. Elizabeth waited, staring up at the sloop, her hands clasped, anxiety clear in her expression even in profile. Damn but that yellow color brightened not only her person but also the immediate area. She was quite like a lighthouse beacon or the North Star, and part of him loathed the fact that he was about to ruin the hell out of her for no other reason than to win a wager.
Shoving the thought away, Brand cleared his throat. “I’m glad to see you’ve come, Elizabeth. Are you having second thoughts?” He hoped not, for he’d been primed and ready for this moment seemingly for days.
She started and turned toward him. Already, a blush stained her cheeks. “I have not, but I am wondering how clever the decision is.”
There was no time to soothe skittish nerves. He grinned. “Well, come aboard. If you’d like, we’ll talk for a while before doing other things. Perhaps that will set you at ease.” Climbing onto the sloop, he offered her his free hand and then hauled her up, releasing her only when she’d found her footing on deck. “I brought the brandy as requested. France’s finest, I’ll have you know.”
Elizabeth glanced at the bottle he held. “Good.” With a tentative hand, she appropriated the bottle from him then flicked her gaze to his face. Apprehension clouded her eyes, about the liquor or impending bed sport, he couldn’t say. “I am curious about this.”
So was he, for she wasn’t the type of woman to readily drink away her troubles. “Where did you wish to sail? I’m yours to command.” Once he’d won the wager, he wouldn’t need to put so much effort into charming a woman, for Elizabeth would be gone from his life. He frowned, despite still needing to keep in her good graces until the deed was done. A part of him rebelled, for the past week or so hadn’t felt as exhausting as he’d assumed, doing the pretty with a female.
“Somewhere well away from Ipswich. At the moment, I want to put space between myself and my brother.” She drifted to the railing, her posture stiff and taut. “I’m so furious at him I can hardly speak.”
“Aye.” Some of Brand’s enthusiasm dimmed, for while she was in a temper, she wouldn’t want to be intimate. Damn it all. “Let me get the Charlotte underway then you can tell me what the bastard has done.”
“Yes, he is quite the bastard,” she said in a low voice as if worried someone might overhear her say the word.
He kept his own counsel while releasing ropes, letting out the sail and readying for departure. Every beat of his pulse urged him to get on with it, for there was five hundred pounds in the offing. Yet the sane part of him wanted to go slowly with her. If he came on strong, urging her into something she wasn’t ready for, she’d spook and demand that he return her to the harbor.
As he guided his ship into the River Orwell and around the other vessels that dotted the water, he kept one eye on her. Those brilliant yellow skirts made her look like a tropical bird who’d perched for a few seconds on his deck. Ever since he’d entered the wager and pursued her, he’d looked forward to seeing her. What would his days be like once she was gone, and no doubt despising him for what he was about to do?
Like he’d done with so many other ponderances and emotions he didn’t have the capacity or courage to own or examine, Brand shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, but that didn’t lessen the pressure in his chest. Since she wasn’t inclined to talk and had taken to pacing the deck with the brandy bottle clutched beneath her arm, he let her be. The breeze today was more insistent than the last time Elizabeth had visited the sloop. It rippled through her skirting and clawed at her bonnet ribbons. He couldn’t help but grin, for soon he would encourage both those items from her form.
Finally, he reached a spot far enough away from Ipswich’s harbor that would satisfy his guest. The early afternoon sun sat high in a blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds. It glimmered on the green-blue water like a million diamonds. Nary a fishing vessel was in sight, for everyone working the river had no doubt already found their perfect spots earlier. “This is as good a place as any,” he shouted to her while he dropped anchor. In the distance, the mouth of the river emptied into the North Sea. The water there appeared a deeper blue and it called to him. What he wouldn’t give to traverse that sea without a destination in mind for the sheer joy of sailing.
Would Elizabeth wish to accompany him? He’d come to rather enjoy her companionship.
A snort escaped. Of course she wouldn’t. No after she found herself ruined and discovered he’d only lain with her for a wager. God, I’m a prick. But then, he’d never claimed he was a good man.
She didn’t turn away from the railing, so he joined her. “Look.” Elizabeth pointed to the pale shape of a fish swimming just beneath the water’s surface. “What is it?”
Brand peered down and chuckled. “A sea bass. Probably a good foot in size. The Orwell is teeming with all sorts of bass. Easier to catch here than in the sea where the water’s deeper and they can hide better.”
“It’s wonderful.” She glanced at him. Excitement danced in her eyes. “I’ve never seen a fish in its natural habitat before.”
“You’ll find that that water has many secrets and that each one is fascinating.” Brand drew her across the deck and encouraged her sit in on the bench. When he settled beside her, he took the bottle of brandy from her hand. “Now, tell me why you’re out of sorts with your brother.”
Immediately, the joy in her expression vanished beneath a thundercloud of annoyance and ire. “He assumes I have no worth in life unless I’m toiling away for the church or doing the same for him.” She tilted her chin up in defiance. “The man ordered me to stay in my room today and think over my poor decisions this past week.” When she scoffed, her eyes snapped. “Told me to stay away from you, and that if I didn’t, he’d have the church elders banish the demon inside me that has made me rebellious.”
Brand didn’t know what to say. His lower jaw dropped open as he stared. “A demon.” It wasn’t a question.
“That’s how he explains my sudden confidence and courage.” She shrugged. Her lips were set in a hard line, but when she looked at him again, some of the aggravation faded. “It’s not a demon that’s encouraged my behavior.”
“No?” Though he yearned to find out if she knew the cause, wanted to hear it.