Chapter Nineteen
Oh, why can’the just leave me alone to grieve in peace? Elizabeth had no time for this. Brand had broken her trust. He’d made jest of her feelings for him. He’d stolen her heart and then trampled it beneath his heel. And now he wished to talk? She owed him nothing, yet her traitorous heart fluttered at the sight of him. He’d dressed in his fine evening clothes, had apparently swam after the ship?
How was that possible? Perhaps it didn’t matter, for she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He was adorable wet and wondering, with his silver-streaked midnight hair slicked back from his forehead and the days’ worth of stubble clinging to his cheeks and jaw.
“Lizzy, there is something I must say to you,” he said, emotion graveling his voice. “And it can’t be said in a letter, even if you’ve not given me your new address.”
Captain Bingham as well as a few of his officers and crew stood around them in a circle, all looking on in various degrees of expectation and interest. What had Brand said to them that warranted such attention? And why the deuce had the captain demanded she come clad in her best dress?
It had been sinfully vain of her to don the exquisite golden taffeta gown with the golden sparkling overskirt and the delicate tulle at the neckline, but it gave her confidence to stand and face Brand for one last time. “Yes?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and when Brand’s gaze briefly dipped to the scandalously low bodice of the gown, tingles of need danced down her spine.
Several seconds passed. He said nothing further, but a muscle worked in his clenched jaw.
Elizabeth stifled a sigh. “Cat got your tongue, Captain Storme?” Despite a few snickers from the onlookers, she peered more closely at him. A gasp followed, for on second look, he was magnificent. “You look like a storm, all wet and bedraggled, lightning in your eye.” Or a man laboring beneath passionate beliefs with his muscles taut and clenched—a man on a mission. She swallowed to force moisture into her suddenly dry throat. “Why are you here?”
Dare I hope?It was folly to fall for him the first time. Surely, it would make her the biggest goose in the world to do so a second.
“Let me start at the beginning.” Brand cleared his throat. He tugged on the wet lapels of his evening jacket. “Last night I was forced to acknowledge the storm of my own making. All the emotions I’d held back came due after you walked out of my life, and I had no recourse but to let them have at me.”
She trembled. Her hands shook so badly that she clasped them in front of her to hide her reaction. “How did that make you feel?”
“Horrible. Wretched even.” Nothing except honesty reflected in his eye. “Every single thing that had hurt me, wounded me in some way from my past came back to haunt me on the heels of your rejection, so I gave each one of them their due.”
“Did you set them free?” The fact he’d had the capacity for even that was the change she’d been hoping to see in him from the first.
“I did, and in the process, I found freedom myself. I broke from my prison.” His grin was small and tight. “This morning, I woke up and knew exactly what—and who—I wanted for my life, but by the time I arrived at the harbor, your ship had already sailed.”
Oh, he was skilled in words, but she refused to let her hopes soar in the event he dashed them out from under her again. “William was insistent we leave. He lectured me for hours after we returned home, told me numerous times I was destined for hell unless I put you from my mind.”
Brand growled. “If that’s the case, then he’ll be one of the first you see there, for he is as evil as the day is long.”
“I’m not certain…” She pressed her lips together. “I cried myself to sleep,” she admitted in a soft voice as she strove to ignore their audience. “You hurt me deeply.”
“I know, and I’m heartily sorry for my behavior.” He came forward a step but paused, doubt in his expression. “So, I swam over to this ship—”
“You swam.” It wasn’t a question. She glanced out into the sea and frowned. A ship, a tad larger than his sloop slowly cruised about the area but stuck close to hers.
“Yes… Well, John and I took out the schooner—”
Disappointment stabbed through her chest. She was forced to stifle a sob. “The one you won in the wager that broke my heart.”
“That is also true, but hear me out.”
She gave him a sharp nod. “You swam from your vessel to this one. Why? That smacks of desperation and illogical thought.”
“Aye, it does indeed.” He exchanged a speaking glance with Captain Bingham, who nodded with encouragement. Brand’s grin stole her ability to breathe for all its wicked intent. “A man in love is seldom rational.”
“Oh. You’re in love.” It wasn’t a question. Why did he come all this way to tell her that? Did he wish to harm her anew? Was that the urgent thing he needed to say?
“Yes.” The gleam in his eye intensified. “Can you guess with whom?”
Why must he be so cruel? She blinked the tears back from her eyes. “That woman I saw you with in the tavern, that barmaid who had more breasts than brains.” When surprised laughter circled through their onlookers, heat slapped at her cheeks. “Why would you do this to me? Just let me be so I can mourn your loss.” Her strength flagging, Elizabeth drooped and rested a hand on a nearby barrel for support. It simply wouldn’t do to collapse in front of him.
“No.” He shook his head, a frown curving down his tempting mouth. “That’s not true.”
“No, you’re not in love with her, or no, it’s a different woman altogether?” He was a rake, after all. No doubt he probably had a bevy of women all hanging for his notice.
A sound of exasperation issued from him. “Good God, Elizabeth, will you let me explain without interrupting or leaping to assumptions?”