Lady Pirate (14 page)

 

Valoree's laughter died slowly away as she realized he hadn't joined her in it. In fact, he looked quite put out. “Because we would not suit,” she said seriously. “You are far too…” He raised an eyebrow at her hesitation, and she sighed. “You
are
serious, aren't you?”

His silence was her only answer.

Valoree actually considered the matter, her gaze taking in his deep brown eyes and handsome features; he had a strong nose, a square, stubborn jaw, a sensual lower and narrower upper lip. Fitted together it all was
an attractive package. Very attractive. Her fingers slid from his shoulder to his upper arm and she measured and squeezed, testing the muscle there before sliding quickly across his chest, poking to make sure that that magnificent expanse was all his and not padding. Nay, it was all his. She pulled away, and her gaze dropped down over his flat stomach to the fine tight breeches he wore, without those silly frilly ribbons, she noted with relief, and she peered at his strong, well-shaped thighs with interest.

Daniel was as stiff as a marble statue under her inspection, his feet moving automatically in the dance as the rest of him awaited her pronouncement. When she finally turned her gaze back to his face, he eyed her warily and waited.

“My lord, you are a fine specimen of a man. Well built, obviously strong, and no doubt you could supply the babe I need to inherit my family estate. However”—Valoree ignored his grimace—“our characters are simply too similar to make such an option a success.”

“What?” He stared at her with amazement, and she rolled her eyes.

“I am far more independent, strong-minded, and strong-willed than the average lady. I am not in the least bit interested in a husband. I would not even ever marry could I get away with it. But I have been forced to do so by my father's will. The man I choose to husband me will not rule me. In fact, I shall probably rule him. You would not like such a thing.”

“You are damn right, I would not like it,” he snapped. “What on earth makes you think that any man is going to allow you to rule the household? It simply is not done. No man worth his salt—”

“I do not wish to marry a man worth his salt. I wish to marry a man who will allow me to lead my life as I have done since I was nineteen.”

“You would never respect a man like that,” Daniel argued with a frown.

“I do not need to respect him, just to marry him.”

“And have a babe with him,” Daniel pointed out. She grimaced this time.

“Aye, well, that is a part of the bargain I could do without thinking about for a bit, if you do not mind,” she said unhappily, then glanced around. “Oh, look. Meg and Henry have managed to escape your would-be brides. Take me back to them, please.”

It came out as more an order than a request, and she could tell Daniel was about to balk at it when he noticed the trickle of sweat sliding down her face. That took him aback. “Aye. Mayhap we should stop. You appear to be overwarm.”

His words made her dab at the sweat self-consciously. He released her hand and took her arm to lead her to where Meg and Henry were conversing.

“You did pretty well out there, Ca—girl,” Henry corrected himself, casting a quick glance in Daniel's direction.

“Aye. But you should have stopped sooner,” Meg said with a frown. “You are overwarm and…” She paused midsentence as she reached out with her hanky to dab at Valoree's cheek, just as Valoree turned to give a meaningful glance to Daniel.

“I
did
try to stop. Several times,” she announced peevishly. “But Lord Thurborne was not willing to let me.” She waited a moment then, for some comment or apology from the man, but he remained silent, his gaze locked on her face. Frowning, she glanced back toward Meg and Henry questioningly, only to see them both just as frozen and fixated on her. Shifting uncomfortably under their combined stares and mounting horror, Valoree glanced from one person to the other. “What is it?”

“Your face,” Henry said in dismay.

Frowning, she reached up to feel her cheek where Meg had meant to dab and felt that her movement had turned the dab into a brush that had removed a portion of her makeup. The bare skin underneath felt oddly lumpy.

“Do not touch it,” Meg said quickly, pulling her hand away and peering at the spot. “Is your face itchy?”

“Itchy?” Valoree muttered with disgust. “It has been burning and itching all night. It has been nearly driving me mad.”

“What?” Meg peered at her with concern. “Well, why did you not say something?” the woman asked in exasperation. Valoree glanced toward Henry, whose expression showed complete understanding mingled with regret. She hadn't said anything because a captain should not complain of minor discomfort. A captain should bear it as long as necessary, then tend to it when the opportunity arose.

“Never mind why she said naught about it,” Henry said resignedly. “What do we do about it?”

“Do?” Meg peered at him blankly, then shook her head. “She is obviously reacting to the makeup. We must leave and get it off her as quickly as possible.”

Henry's shoulders slumped at that, and Valoree could read the disappointment in him. They had gone to all this trouble. Again. And it had been a flop. Again. She had only danced, or talked even, with one man. Nonetheless, he nodded solemnly. “We leave then.”

“Nay. Not just yet,” Valoree said suddenly. She turned to Daniel, her mind racing with a plan that was forming even as she spoke. “Who is the biggest gossip of the ton?”

Daniel peered at her in surprise and confusion, then said slowly, “That would be Lady Denholme. Why?”

“Is she here tonight?” Valoree asked hurriedly.

Daniel hesitated before nodding. “I believe she is.”

“Where is she?”

He peered at Valoree silently for a moment, then glanced around the hall, scouring the people present until he spotted the woman in question. “She is over there, beside the large woman in white and green.”

Valoree followed his pointing finger, then glanced to her aunt. “Meg?”

“Aye?” The older woman moved to her side at once, frowning in concern at her niece's blistered red skin.

“Go and strike up a conversation with this Lady Denholme. Tell her about the codicil in my father's will. Tell her how you must marry me off quickly to claim it. Then tell her it shouldn't be a problem, however, since I am exceedingly wealthy. Make sure you mention that I am desperate and not likely to be picky.” She paused suddenly to glance toward Daniel. “Are there any other rather gossipy women here tonight?”

Daniel gave her a look of mixed admiration and annoyance, then straightened to glance around the room again. “Ah, well, Lady Smathers over there, and…er…Lady Wenback by the tall, skinny gentleman.”

Nodding, Valoree turned to Meg again. “After you are finished with her, move on to the other two and tell them the same things. Then come join us. We shall be on the balcony.”

Nodding, Meg hurried off to do as she asked. As she did, Valoree began to fan her face with one hand, her gaze moving around the room.

“Damn me.” Henry's hissed words drew her gaze around questioningly, and he muttered, “A passel of trouble headed our way.” He nodded toward a herd of hopeful mamas dragging their chicks their way.

“Damn.” Valoree muttered as she spotted the group. This was the last group she wanted to see. Her gaze
shot around to land on Daniel. “They are after you. Go away and they will leave me alone.”

“I have a better idea,” he answered. Taking her arm, he hurried her through the crowd toward the balcony doors, Henry hot on their heels.

“See, this is what I mean about our not suiting,” Valoree snapped irritably as he rushed her out onto the balcony. “You could not just go away as I asked; you had to take charge and drag me along with you.”

Daniel said nothing, simply led her down into the garden. Finally he said, “Well, your aunt did say that you should get that stuff off directly, or else ruin your complexion.”

“So? And so I shall. As soon as Meg is finished with what I asked her to do, we shall return home and get this goop off my face.”

“Why wait?” Daniel grinned and drew her to a halt, gesturing toward a fountain he had brought her too. “It worked well enough last night.”

Valoree stared. This fountain was smaller than the mammoth one the Beechams had owned, but much more attractive for all that. Its musical trickle was like some tempting siren's call, promising relief for her face. She could wash off and soothe her face in the cool water. Ease the itching and burning. Enjoy a moment of giving her face a good scratch, all under the guise of cleaning it.

A moan slipping from her lips, she dropped to her knees beside the fountain and thrust her face into its cool, soothing water, her fingers scouring her skin with a vengeance that made up for the whole night of suffering. Lifting her face out of the water a moment later, she sighed in relief. She heard Henry sigh as well.

“I don't suppose ye've got an alley siding on yer garden here, do ye?” she heard him ask as she impatiently tugged off the wig Meg had insisted upon her
wearing. Tossing it to the ground, she rubbed at her scalp vigorously as Daniel answered.

“Aye. Along the side there. Shall I help her over the stone wall while you fetch the carriage?” She ducked her whole head into the water, then, thrashing it exuberantly about rather like a dog shaking itself off. She pulled her head back out just in time to hear Henry answer.

“Aye. But give it a couple of minutes. I shall go back inside and wait for Meg, then leave with her, get into the carriage, and have it come around.”

“Make sure she talks to all three women, Henry,” Valoree called after him as he headed back toward the balcony; then she collapsed back to sit on her heels. She gave a sigh of pure bliss.

“Better?” Daniel asked.

“Aye,” Valoree said. Though the itching and heat were still there, her face felt not nearly as bad as it had with all that makeup irritating it. When Daniel offered her his hand to help her up, she hesitated, her gaze moving back toward the fountain. Then she decided that she'd had enough and placed her wrist in his hand, her own fingers closing around his wrist so that they worked together to get her back on her feet. “Where does the alley side your garden?”

“This way.” Daniel gestured, then took her arm to walk with her, following the moonlit path to the trees. There, he slid his fingers down to grasp hers so that he could lead the way on the uneven ground, tugging her behind him. At the wall, he paused and turned to face her. “This is becoming a habit.”

“What is?” she asked. “My leaving soirees over walls, or my little incidents at balls?”

“Both of those two,” he admitted. “But I was thinking more along the line of our meeting in dark, secluded spots.”

“Oh, that.” Tugging her hand free of his, she stepped
up to the wall, checking its height relative to her own. Of course it was a good foot higher than her head, she thought in annoyance. Who exactly were these nobles trying to keep out of their darn gardens anyway? she wondered. “Well, never fear, it shall not happen again. I am never wearing that foolish muck on my face again.”

“Good. You are far too lovely to bother with such nonsense.”

Valoree gave a doubtful snort.
Lovely? What nonsense
. She'd had an entire crew of pirates convinced she was a man for the past thirteen years. That hardly spoke of loveliness. “Aye, well, if my plan works, I should have this business done in no time. Then we shall head for Ainsley and I shall not need worry what the fashion is, or what people think.”

“Ah, your plan,” Daniel murmured softly, suddenly standing directly behind her. He was uncomfortably close, she thought, feeling his heat through his clothes and her own. He wasn't touching her anywhere, yet she was incredibly aware of his presence. She actually shuddered when his breath brushed her ear as he whispered, “Do you really think that simply spreading the word among the gossipmongers will work? You'll just announce that you are looking for a husband, and they shall come?”

“Why not? It worked for you,” she said, then frowned at the husky quality of her voice. She had meant to sound slightly derisive. Instead the words had come out slightly breathy, as if she had just swum a long distance.

“Aye, but what sort of man will it bring running, do you think?” He breathed so close to her ear that his lips actually brushed it. She shivered uncontrollably, ripples of something she had never experienced before shimmering through her body. Her mind unable to actually grasp what he had said, she leaned back into
him, her breasts rising and falling quickly now.

“I—Ohhh.” She gasped in surprise as his lips closed on the rim of her ear. His hands clasped her waist gently, fanning out where they rested as he did some dark and mysterious things to her earlobes that had her turning into pudding in his hands. Moaning mindlessly, she let her head drop limply back against his chest. She wasn't quite sure what he was doing, and almost suspected it was some witch's trick, her reaction was so violent; but she didn't seem to be able to find the presence of mind to care. It felt so damned good, she hardly noticed as his hands inched their way up over her ribs, to climb the mounds of her breasts.

A second moan slipped from her. She arched into his touch, her breasts pushing against the cloth that bound them, her hands coming up to cover his, cupping them closer against her flesh as she turned her head, her lips unconsciously seeking his. When his mouth covered hers and his tongue slid out to trace her lips, she opened instinctively to him, and a series of seizures seemed to ripple through her. Her ears were actually ringing as if in reaction to the shot of a pistol nearby, and she jolted in his arms, a hungry groan slipping from her mouth into his. She turned in his arms, mindlessly seeking a closer embrace.