Never Trust a Pirate (Scandal at the House of Russell 2)
She would have liked to tell him to go to hell, but for the sake of a bath she’d sell her soul to the devil. “And just how long is the rest of the voyage? Where are we going?”
“That’ll be up to the captain. The first place we can safely dump you, if I know him. He said you were in too much danger in Devonport, though it seems to me you brought that on yourself with your snooping. I would have left you behind.”
She gave him a wintry smile. “So where are we headed?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders, watching her beneath shaggy eyebrows. “Maybe London. Maybe the continent. You can find your way home, wherever that may be, from there.”
With no money, no clothes—she didn’t even know where her shoes were. When she’d woken up in the bed, trussed and gagged, they’d been gone. She glanced at the flo
or of the cabin. There was no sign of her discarded dress or the shift and pantalets she’d willingly pulled off. “And is there any plan for me to wear something, or am I spending the rest of the voyage wrapped in a blanket? Are you going to give me my clothes back?”
“There are clothes,” he said briefly. “Do you want a bath or not?”
Keeping the blanket wrapped securely around her, she slid off the berth. It was higher up than she’d realized it, and her legs felt rubbery, and Quarrells caught her as she started to pitch forward, his big rough hands surprisingly gentle. “Haven’t got your sea legs yet,” he grumbled. “Why that man bothers with women is beyond me. You’re nothing but trouble.”
“So drown me,” she muttered, trying to regain her equilibrium.
“Don’t tempt me.”
But she was no longer afraid of him. For all his bluster, Billy Quarrells wouldn’t do a thing to hurt her. He was like a great shaggy dog—all bark and no bite, just wanting to protect his best friend. Angry as she was, she couldn’t fault him for that.
The bathing room wasn’t far—just a few doors down the narrow passageway, and to her surprise a bath had already been drawn. She glanced up at Billy, but his face was impassive, so impassive she knew he’d done this for her. “Thank you,” she said as he released his supportive arm.
He shrugged. “There’s clothes in the cupboard there, and the necessary behind the screen. I’ll give you one bell and no more.”
“One bell?”
He made an exasperated sound. “And you the daughter of a shipping magnate! Ought to be ashamed of yourself. One bell is half an hour.”
“Then why didn’t you say so?” she shot back.
“Because we’re on board ship.”
She rolled her eyes. All the nautical rules and terms were coming back to her, but she derived a perverse pleasure in playing ignorant. “Are you going to stay and watch me?” she said after a long moment, when he made no attempt at leaving.
He snorted. “Not my area of interest, dolly-mop. I just want to make sure you’re not going to fall flat on your face or drown in the bathtub before I leave.”
She ignored the insult. She wasn’t quite sure what a dolly-mop was, but she knew it wasn’t complimentary. “Wouldn’t that solve a lot of problems?”
He appeared to consider it. “I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t think the captain would mind.”
He was saying it to goad her, she knew it, but it still stabbed her to the heart. “Then go away.”
Billy’s eyes had narrowed. “Did he give you that bruise on your face?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Did he?”
“No. That was the man who was trying to kill me. He gave me this one.” She lifted her chin. She hadn’t looked in a mirror since she’d left her room yesterday morning, but her chin was tender and she had to assume he’d left a mark.
Billy peered at her. “Don’t see nothing. He always did have a light hand.”
“You mean it doesn’t tend to show when he beats women?”
“You’re a sassy one, aren’t you? No wonder he…”
“No wonder he what?”