Chapter Eleven
August 26, 1817
Brand didn’t bother to cover a yawn as he entered the private dining room that he and his fellows reserved each day for dinner. He’d made his supply runs, which had taken too many blessed hours. If he’d had a bigger ship, he could make one trip weekly instead of doing the jobs every day. But that was a dream. Now all he wanted was a pint or two and to talk with his friends and to dig into a nice serving of roast beef. If the feeling of restlessness would fade, that would be all to the good, but the truth of the matter was, he was just plain randy. Not being able to claim Elizabeth’s body yesterday kept him on the edge of frustration and his shaft hard. If things didn’t improve in that quarter, he’d be forced to take himself in hand.
Damn, but he wanted her. Inability to bed her aside, she was an interesting person who viewed the world as if everything were a miracle as it opened for her.
George was the first to glance up as Brand joined them at the table. “Is there news, Captain?” His expression was sly. Of course he would go right for the meat of the matter.
The other men studied him with degrees of interest.
Philip nodded, his grin wide as if he suddenly remembered the wager. “Yes, have you succeeded in bedding the missionary’s sister?” His fork was paused midway to his mouth. “From the way she looked yesterday, I’d say you had an easy time of it.”
If only he knew. As three pairs of eyes bored into him, Brand sighed. He rubbed a hand over the side of his face. “Uh, yes and no.” There was no better way to phrase it.
“What the devil does that mean?” John frowned. He scoured Brand’s face with his gaze. “You either seduced her into your bed or you didn’t.”
Heat crept up the back of Brand’s neck. “It’s not that simple.” As he leaned back in his chair, he told them bits and pieces of his afternoon with Elizabeth yesterday. In the telling, he wished to leave some of the details to himself. It was difficult to explain what had occurred after he’d attempted to pleasure her with his fingers. Not to mention they’d tease him mercilessly for holding her in his arms for much longer than he should have.
I’m not that sort of man. I don’t cuddle with them or show tender concern for them or try to soothe their emotional distress. I bed them and leave them satisfied.
Until the advent of Elizabeth.
All three of his friends gaped at him with varying degrees of shock lining their expressions. The bite of cottage pie on Philip’s fork fell to the tabletop with a soft plop!
“You didn’t bed her.” There was no question George’s voice as he continued to stare.
“Not in the traditional sense.” The remembrance of having Elizabeth on his lap was as powerfully arousing now as it had been when he’d experienced it. Brand shifted in his chair, but his engorged length didn’t find relief. Her perfect nipples, the heat of her when he’d penetrated her with his fingers, the tiny moans she made all worked to drive him insane. “However, we were intimate.”
In more ways than the obvious.
“That’s proper rubbish, Captain.” Philip shook his head. Disappointment clouded his eyes. “What you did doesn’t count toward winning the wager unless you coupled with her.”
“Hold on. I don’t know if that’s exactly true.” John held up a hand. “The captain did do the job. In a roundabout way, I suppose.” He glanced around the table. “I say we count that as winning the wager, for I imagine it took a fair amount of convincing and seduction to bring Miss Hayhurst to that pass.”
Both Philip and George voiced a noisy protest.
John pounded a fist on the tabletop. “Hear me out, mates.” He looked at Brand and back to the others. “We can either pay out our share to the captain or…”
“Or?” Brand asked with anticipation streaking down his spine. The whole business almost turned his stomach, for he didn’t want to cut his association with Elizabeth over the ill-advised wager.
“Or…” John’s grin was this side of sly. Speculation gleamed in his eyes, which meant certain trouble for Brand. “Or we can extend the wager.”
“How?” He didn’t like the sound of that.
John and George exchanged a speaking glance that conveyed a message Brand couldn’t understand. Then, Philip nodded slowly. “Go ahead,” he told John.
“The three of us have pooled our resources.” John sobered. He looked at Brand like the soul of an account manager. “So, instead of paying you out the winnings of five hundred pounds, we have recently purchased a schooner that went for sale just this week.”
“What? When?” Surprise punched Brand in the chest. “Why didn’t you ask me to go in on it?” A trace of hurt followed, for he’d thought they were fast friends.
John chuckled. “The four of us will be forming a shipping outfit. Import and export business, so with your sloop and the new schooner, we can double the work and the profit.” He flashed a grin. “We wouldn’t have left you out, Brand.”
“Well, that’s better.” If his voice was a tad gruff, he ignored it. “But you’re right. Forming a partnership sounds like a capital idea.” It was something tangible and solid that might attract the right woman—
“You’ve been preoccupied, Captain,” George said in a soothing voice with nothing but honesty in his eyes. The statement interrupted Brand’s thoughts. “And from the looks of things, you still are.”
“The devil you say.” Brand scoffed. “Such nonsense. Miss Hayhurst has been a diversion, a way to win five hundred pounds. Nothing more.”