Mistress Below Deck (23 page)

It was soft female laughter that awoke Rowena from her slumber. Raising herself on her elbow, she looked towards the door as it opened and two olive-skinned servant girls came in, one carrying a carafe of wine and the other a tray of fruit and sweetmeats. As they approached the divan, Tobias had the presence of mind to draw a silken sheet over them both. He sat up to block the servants' view of his Rowena, and she was grateful for his consideration, but it was too late, they had seen her. Inquisitive about the gentleman's companion, they cheekily craned their necks to take a good look.

‘Thank you,' Tobias said, as they placed the trays on
a nearby table. ‘It is much appreciated. Now will you excuse us? My—friend and I would like some privacy.'

To Rowena's irritation the girls giggled. ‘Of course, sir,' one of them said in broken English. Picking Rowena's trousers off the floor, with raised eyebrows she placed them on the bottom of the divan.

‘He—is very young—your friend,' the other girl commented, her eyes lighting with mischief.

Tobias's lips twitched with amusement. ‘
He
is a she—and, yes, she is
quite
young.'

They backed towards the door, their bare feet slapping on the tiled floor.

‘Oh—we will not disturb you and your—
mistress
,' one of them said, covering her mouth with her hand to smother her giggles, which infuriated Rowena and raised the angry demon in her.

When they had gone, the lovers listened to the fading footsteps and laughter, then Rowena reared up and glared at Tobias accusingly.

‘I agreed to spend this time with you, but I think you've carried it a bit far. How dare you let them think I am your mistress?'

Tobias shrugged indolently. ‘If I let them think you are my mistress, they will not give you any more attention and they will have little to gossip about when Lord Foley returns. If they thought you were a lad—which is how you appeared to them when we arrived—then gossip they will and my reputation would be in question.'

‘How very convenient for you,' she observed with arid sarcasm.

Tobias chuckled low, amused by her ire, but when he reached out to draw her into his arms and she dashed his hands away, he frowned with displeasure. ‘Why do you flinch, when a moment ago you welcomed my touch?'

‘Because I've suddenly decided I don't like being pawed,' she flared, angry with Tobias, angry with those silly, insensitive girls, but mostly she was angry at herself for having placed herself in this humiliating, shameful situation.

Tobias smiled crookedly at her, willing her to respond as she had just moments before, but there was no answering spark in her eyes. Her head came up and her soft mouth tightened, and he could see she had worked herself up into a fine temper.

‘You will have to get used to it, my love, for when you are married to your rich and titled old man, you will have to accept your lot—and spend the rest of your nights yearning for a real man in your bed.'

The bright hue of Rowena's cheeks and flashing of her eyes gave mute evidence of his savage, cutting words. ‘You beast!' she snarled, scrambling to her knees and glaring at him with feverish wrath. ‘You said there was no bargain, but of course there was, and it was well met, but I can't help feeling there is something sordid about what we have done—what I have done. Suddenly I feel dirty, like the cheapest whore, and if I should find myself with child? What then? What shall I tell Lord Tregowan?'

He answered her question with another. ‘And would you tell him?'

‘I would be honest with him. I would not deceive
him into believing he was getting a chaste bride. What respectable man would want a woman with the morals of a whore?'

‘You are too hard on yourself.'

‘I don't think so. It will be me and me alone who must pay the price of this folly.' Flinging herself off the bed, she was about to reach for her clothes when Tobias sprang up and grasped her wrist, bringing her round to face him.

‘You wouldn't be alone, Rowena. I would take care of you.'

‘Why? What would you do? Marry me yourself? Make me your Mrs Searle?' Like a cold hand squeezing her heart, she heard him say quietly,

‘No, not Mrs Searle.'

Rowena glared at him and snatched her wrist free of his grasp, her humiliation complete. ‘Don't worry, Tobias. I'm not hankering after that. I don't want to be your wife any more than you want to be my husband. Besides, my father would not approve.'

‘Why not? He might soften towards me when he sees he has Jane back.'

‘He would not approve of the fact that I prostituted myself.'

‘You did not prostitute yourself.'

‘Then what would you call it? Whore! Harlot! Prostitute! What's the difference?' He towered over her, his overpowering presence so close that she was afraid her resolve would weaken. A gleam entered his eyes. He looked rakishly down at her and her breath held while his eyes boldly appraised her. He picked up her trousers
and she snatched them from him. ‘Leave it. I don't have need of your services. I can see to my own clothing.'

After pulling on her trousers she kicked the detested bindings aside and shrugged herself into her shirt, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the buttons. ‘Now the bargain is fulfilled, kindly take me back to the ship. You did me a favour in securing Jane's freedom. I have just returned the favour—in the basest way possible—payment for services rendered. How can any man respect me after that, when I don't even respect myself?'

Tobias stood back and leaned against one of the pillars that surrounded the bath. ‘Ah, Rowena. Such anger. I have done you no wrong.'

‘Of course you haven't,' she retorted sarcastically, ‘You rescued Jane, didn't you?' He nodded. ‘For a price,' she hissed, thrusting her face forward. ‘For a price.'

Without more ado she turned on her heel and left him. Somehow she found her way out of the house and away from those detestable, giggling women and back to the ship and her cabin, where she could hide and lick her wounds, but not for long. Hearing a sound, she turned and saw Tobias in the doorway.

‘You! What do you want?'

‘Just to make sure you had got back safely.'

‘I'm here, aren't I? Now go away. You have what you wanted, now leave me alone.'

They arrived in Falmouth on one of those days of dazzling clearness and an intensely blue sky. Billowing clouds floated above low green hills crowding close
upon a golden strand of beach, which separated the land from the gently rolling surf that licked the naked shore. The air was warm and sultry as the
Cymbeline
came from her own white clouds, and her sun-bleached sails gleamed white in the brightness of the day.

Tobias came and stood beside Rowena at the rail. Their relationship had been strained since leaving Gibraltar, and Rowena had gone out of her way to avoid him.

Now she turned and gave him a speculative look. She truly did love this man. Why else would she be experiencing this painful yearning? She was finding it harder and harder to retreat into cool reserve when she was near him, especially when memories of his caresses, hot, wild and sweet, kept spinning around in her head.

‘Well, Rowena, here you are—home at last.'

‘I shudder to think what my father will have to say when I turn up looking as I do, with a face the colour of a burnt nut. I shan't be in any fit state to receive visitors for a while.'

Tobias stood back and regarded her for a long moment before he answered softly, ‘I assure you your brush with the sun has done you no harm, and I have always found your attire most—provocative.'

She was unaware that her dark hair tumbling about her face from beneath her hat—having grown considerably since she had started out on this journey—was a hundred different shades and dazzling lights, from ebony to earth brown to lights of deepest red, as her brilliant, beautiful wide eyes flared to life. A smile began
to curve his lips. His expression was unreadable, smiling, watchful, knowing—secretive.

‘Are you glad to be back in England, Tobias?'

‘I'm glad everything has turned out well. But time has a habit of passing, even though sometimes we would hold it back. I'm going to miss my cabin boy. There's not a cabin boy I know who moves like you do.'

‘Like what?' Rowena laughed. ‘Do I clump about—or perhaps I move like a galleon in full sail?'

‘Good Lord, no,' he assured her. ‘More like a siren's whisper in your bare feet.'

She flushed a delightful pink. ‘Flatterer.'

‘I do not lie, Rowena.'

It was the first time since leaving Gibraltar that he had complimented her or even looked at her as though she was an attractive woman. It brought a rush of heat to her cheeks, and suddenly she found it hard to hold his appraising stare. Her gaze was drawn to the fine dark hairs on his tanned forearm resting on the rail, and her heartbeat quickened at the masculine strength she saw there. She looked quickly away. There were times when Tobias Searle was too attractive for her peace of mind.

‘Are you coming with us to the house?'

A light blazed briefly in his eyes, then was extinguished. He shook his dark head. ‘Not now. Mark will go with you. Your father has a strong aversion to me, remember. But don't worry your lovely head. Confront him I shall, I promise you. We have unresolved issues that must be discussed.'

‘Nothing is the same as it was. My father will know that and be for ever in your debt.'

‘We shall see.'

Rowena gazed at him, her expression grave. ‘What kind of man are you, Tobias Searle? I have often wondered, and despite being with you for many weeks—and having known you in the most intimate way a woman can know a man—I realise I have no idea at all.'

‘And do you want to know?'

‘Not if you don't want me to.'

His eyes gleamed. ‘You will soon know all there is to know about me, Rowena. I promise you that.' He looked past her. ‘Excuse me while I go and speak to Mark. Here is your sister.'

Rowena watched him walk away. Though it cost her every ounce of strength and will-power, and her own bloody-minded pride, she would not let him see how deeply their parting was affecting her, how much her heart was breaking, how much she cared. A slow realisation of what had happened to her, born in the moment so long ago now, it seemed, when he had followed her to the beach—perhaps even before that—was moving through her, making its way from her wounded heart to the rest of her.

Falmouth seemed to glow in a gilded light, which gave an aura of enchantment to the scene. Drinking it all in, Rowena realised how much she loved this place and how much she had missed it. Her heart soared—as high as the gulls circling overhead. She had been in a different world, and now it was time to get back to reality.

She looked for the
Rowena Jane
, but she was no longer at her moorings. She must have been sold. How much of the profit would her father have to pay to satisfy Tobias? But then her father was still beholden to the man he had wrongly accused of almost ending his life because he had brought his daughter back to him. It was a debt he could never repay.

There were few on the shore and in the harbour who did not pause in whatever they were doing at the sight of the new arrival, who did not recognise her sleek lines and the impressive pennant snapping from her mast in the breeze. It was three months since the
Cymbeline
had left Falmouth, and, just like Matthew Golding, they awaited the return of the vessel on which his eldest daughter had sailed to go and look for the lovely young Jane. Few believed she would succeed. Few believed she would return—including Matthew Golding himself, who had mourned the disappearance of his daughters as if they were dead.

One and all stood and waited, watching as the sails were dropped and the
Cymbeline
coasted to an easy berth on the quayside. The gangplank thudded down. Accompanied by Mark Dexter, Jane was the first to step ashore. A gasp escaped them and there were tears in some of the eyes that witnessed this momentous occasion. Little attention was drawn to the lad following behind, a straw hat pulled well down over his face.

Jane could barely contain her enthusiasm to reach her home. Rowena turned and looked back. Tobias was on the deck of the ship watching her go.

They were welcomed home with open arms. The reunion was a tearful one and Jane sobbed out her story to her father. It was later, when Rowena had stripped away her guise as a cabin boy and donned the clothes of a young lady—feeling strangely overdressed and restricted in female attire—that with a certain amount of trepidation she went to see her father alone. John, the man employed to look after his needs, had wheeled him out into the garden and he sat in the shade of a great elm tree as the sun's rays stretched long shadows across the lawn.

Rowena had been expecting a scolding, but instead her father received her with such an air of grief and relief to see her back safe that she was moved to tears.

‘Well, Rowena, this time you have outdone yourself. There were times when I thought I would never see you or Jane again and it means everything to me to have both my daughters returned to me. I must make it clear that, however much I disapprove of your reckless actions, I am not above giving credit where it is due.'

‘It is Tobias Searle you have to thank, Father. Without him we would not be here. He risked his life for Jane.'

He frowned and pursed his mouth and shook his head with a troubled countenance. ‘So I understand.'

Rowena went on to explain what had prompted her to go after Jane, and how Tobias hadn't known she was aboard his ship until it was too late to turn back. Her father listened to all she had to say calmly and without interruption.

‘Tobias had heard how the
Petrel
had been intercepted
and that it was Jack Mason, turned pirate, who was responsible. Because of what had happened to his ship in Kingston harbour, he had vowed to track him down and saw his chance. It was Jack Mason who shot you, Father. He told me himself—before he died.'