Bewitching Kisses (Bewitching Kisses Series), Page 3

  Chapter Two

  Middle Plantation, Virginia

  Lightning streaked across the midnight sky, its deathly glow illuminating a path for the bellowing rolls of thunder that crashed on its wake. Fierce winds shrieked with demonic glee and raced about in search of sport. Trees bent in protest and houses shivered as the turbulence grew. Unable to stand the assault, the sky rent open releasing torrents of rain to mix with the wind in its fury. Shutters were ripped from their moorings and glass windows rattled with ominous sounds. But even as the storm reached its zenith, it found its rival in Nicholas Beaumont’s foul mood.

  Like a caged cat, Nick paced the length of his study. Frustration marred his classic features, turning his dark-sapphire eyes cold. Waiting was not one of his virtues and he made a practice to do it as seldom as possible. But tonight fate had left him no choice. He reached for his gold timepiece to find the hour only a quarter past the last time he had checked. Why tonight? He thought with irritation. For a fortnight he had awaited word that his ship, the Lady May, had been sighted. But when the message finally arrived, it came on the heels of one of the worst storms of the season. Nick paused in his pacing to peer out the window. He had dined with the governor and as the minutes had ticked slowly by, he’s concluded his business, forced polite conversation, and chaffed at not being down on the docks himself. Now, as the hour grew late, his patience was completely at its end.

  He shrugged out of his jacket and then out of habit, folded it neatly over the chair. A wry smile touched his lips as the memories rushed forth. He had been with Gran for less than a week when she had found his discarded jacket and breeches tossed carelessly on the floor of his room. It mattered not to her that he had yet to reach his sixth year, or that the tongue lashing she delivered had lasted even longer than the sting of her switch. His fingers smoothed the lapel of his jacket and he shook his head with the thought. She was a tough old bird even then and he had taken his meals standing for two days. Nick moved to the side table, poured himself a generous brandy, and forced himself to sit before the fire as he reviewed the events of the evening.

  The governor had been most receptive to his ideas, and the promise of government contracts would do much to maintain Beaumont Shipping’s status as the leader in the colonies. Nick took a healthy drink and leaned back in his chair. His business was thriving, so why then was he not content? Lightning flashed and he scowled at the window. Only a fool would wish to be down on the docks on a night such as this, he thought, rising to pace again. But as he thought of Captain Riggins, his hand tightened on his glass. Be calm, man, he chided himself. Beckett is the best agent on the pay ledgers of Beaumont Shipping. And if what you suspect of Captain Riggins is true, Beckett will find the proof.

  Nick stopped at the window to watch the fury of the storm. Lightning crackled, casting the grounds in an eerie blue-white light, and his eyes narrowed as he spied the open carriage slowly make its way up the lane. He waited by the window until the carriage stopped and he saw the driver descend. Stemming his desire to rush forth, Nick turned and moved to perch on the corner of his desk as the clock in the hallway struck the hour past midnight. Before the solitary chime had ceased, the door to his study edged open.

  “Excuse me, sir, Master Beckett is here. Shall I show him in?” Nick nodded. Wadsworth swung the door wide, gave a slight bow, and formally announced the rain-soaked agent. Peter Beckett stepped inside the doorway and hastily pulled his knit cap from his balding head.

  “Sorry I be so late, sir, but the rain . . .” Lightning flashed and the thunder roared, drowning out the agent’s words.

  Nick motioned the man to the fire. “Were you successful?”

  Beckett’s boots squished on the Persian carpet as he gratefully accepted the invitation. “Aye, sir.” He took only a moment to warm his hands before turning back to face his employer. “I rowed out as soon as the Lady May dropped anchor and searched her good just like ye said. And Captain Riggins be as crooked as a corkscrew.” Heedless of the puddle that had begun to grow on the floor before him, Beckett continued to nervously twist his cap.

  “What did you find?”

  Beckett reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a wadded manifest from its depths. His anxiety grew as he realized the paper was soaked through, and his hand trembled from more than cold as he handed the limp document to Nick.

  Nick spread the sodden paper across his desk and scanned the faded contents. His eyes widened first with surprise then disbelief. “The man would risk his reputation and his employment for a few extra barrels of fish?”

  Beckett nodded anxiously. “But I checked everything good, just like ye said, and those barrels hold more than just fish. Riggins had himself quite a stash. Brandy, rum, brocade . . .”

  Nick’s eyes hardened as he rose from the desk and began to stalk. “If Riggins thinks to deceive me with his wit, he had better be ready to pay the price. The man is either a fool or a scoundrel, and I’ve room on my pay ledger for neither. Why didn’t the harbormaster notice the irregularities in the manifest?”

  Beckett nervously shifted from foot to foot. “There be two manifests, sir. That one,” he gestured toward the desk, “matched the cargo Riggins truly carried, so the harbormaster had no cause for alarm. But I found a second manifest that matched the cargo that ye had commissioned him for. That would have been the one Riggins would have presented if ye had not found him out.”

  “I see.”Nick fought to keep his anger from exploding. “Mark this day, Beckett, for it is the last that sees Riggins as the captain of one of my ships.”

  Beckett shuddered at the quiet tone of his employer’s voice. He had worked for Beaumont Shipping for years and knew firsthand that the tales of Nick’s foul temper carried more truth than most realized. The man might dress like a gentleman with his fine white breeches and costly silk jackets, but none on the docks dared to challenge him. And those who were foolish enough to miss the steely determination in his eyes never had the opportunity to repeat the mistake. Eager to be gone lest he feel the backlash of Nick’s anger, Beckett edged toward the door.

  “Will ye be wishing any more of me tonight, sir?”

  Nick reached for a small leather pouch that rested on his desk and gave it a toss. The agent caught it with a practiced ease, but his eyes grew round as his palm expertly calculate its value.

  “You will find there is more than the usual amount. Despite the elements, you stayed with the task at hand. You’ve done well, Peter.”

  “Thank ye, sir,” Beckett’s head bobbed up and down as he stammered with pleasure. The master had never called him by his given name before. He backed toward the door, only to bump into it as Wadsworth pushed it open.

  The butler stood stiffly in the doorway, his pale face wrinkled with confusion. “I beg pardon for the intrusion, sir,” he looked to Nick, “but am I to do something with Master Beckett’s sack? It’s already stained the floor and now it is starting to move about.”

  Beckett slapped his palm to his forehead and his eyes rolled upward. “Lord have mercy, sir, I completely forgot. What do ye want me to do with the girl?”

  “Girl?”

  At the tone of Nick’s voice both men took a hasty step backward. “Wait, I’ll fetch her.” Beckett scrambled past the butler and into the foyer. He returned a moment later, carrying a heap of drenched sackcloth. Uncertain what to do, he dumped the bundle in the center of the floor and pulled back the cloth to reveal an unconscious girl.

  Nick looked from Beckett to the girl, then back to his agent again. “Why bring her here? Does she belong to you?” His brow arched down in a curious scowl.

  “Lordy no, sir,” Beckett stammered, fearful he had fallen out of favor. “I found her in the cargo hold. Captain Riggins claims she’s indentured to him.” Beckett scratched his ear. “But then the man also claims he’s innocent of any wrongful deeds. I didn’t think ye would jest want me to leave her, so I brought her with me.” He watched Nick’s eyes darken. “Did I do wrong, si
r?” he asked, his anxiety mounting.

  Fascinated, Nick watched the girl struggle into consciousness. Her dark hair was soaked and matted, and beneath the sackcloth carelessly wrapped around her, she wore a thin tattered gown that curiously reminded him of his grandmother’s nightdresses. Her hands were bound before her with rags and her feet were bare. She was too thin for his taste, and filthy as a guttersnipe, but he found he couldn’t take his eyes from her. “Does Riggins have papers for her?”

  Beckett nodded and twisted his cap in trepidation. “He said he put them away for safekeeping but couldn’t remember where.” The agent halted and looked nervously down at his feet.

  “And?” Nick prompted in a harsh clip.

  Beckett took a deep breath and gathered his courage. “Then Captain Riggins offered to sell her to me, sir.”

  “Damn the bloody bastard.” Nick’s temper exploded. “I’ll see the man rot for this. Why is she bound?”

  Beckett shrugged helplessly. “Riggins said she tried to attack him.”

  Nick snorted in disgust. “She can’t even hold her head up.” He took a step toward the girl only to watch her frantically try to scoot from his path. But with her hands bound and the tattered gown twisted about her legs, her movements were futile as she shook from the cold.

  Irritated with both her fear and his own fascination, Nick struggled to keep his voice calm. “Easy now, I’ll not hurt you.” His tone was gentle, but when she flinched from his outstretched hand, he paused and pulled the lap robe from the corner chair. Placing it around her trembling shoulders, Nick continued his silent study of the girl, then he tipped her chin up with his forefinger and felt the breath leave his body. She had the most haunting violet eyes he had ever seen. You’ve become too jaded, Beaumont, he thought to himself. Tonight you turned down the finest ladies the great colony of Virginia has to offer and now look at you, lusting after a guttersnipe who’s wearing more dirt than the bottom of your boots.

  Lightning flashed, thunder exploded, and the house trembled in the aftermath. He caught a fleeting glimpse of terror as the girl’s violet eyes grew wide with fear before her face was buried against her arms. “Tis just the storm,” he said softly, not understanding why it was suddenly so important to stem her fear. “If I take the bindings off, will you behave?” He watched the emotions play across her face before she slowly nodded her head.As gently as he could, he removed the rough rag bindings. Her hands felt frozen within his own and, once free, her arms immediately wrapped about herself.

  Beckett edged a step closer. “I’d be careful, sir, if I was you,” he stammered. “Captain Riggins may be a thief, but he carries her claw marks down his cheek as proof of his story.”

  Sarah blinked rapidly, trying to keep her fear at bay. She knew she was no longer in the belly of the ship, yet she found the man before her more terrifying. “Where am I?” Her voice came as a husky whisper.

  Nick frowned as the sound of her words sent a curious jolt deep within. “For the moment, you’re safe,” he stated quietly. “My name is Nicholas Beaumont and you are in my home.”

  “Where?” she persisted as her eyes darted about the well-furnished study.

  Nick watched gooseflesh rise along her arms, and his scowl darkened. “You’re in the grand province called Virginia. But before you ask any more questions, I think we need to see you warm.” He pulled her to her feet carefully, and then edged her back until her legs bumped the chair and she sat.

  “Beckett,” he snapped. “Bring me a brandy, then help yourself if you’ve a mind to.” Stifling a curse, he pulled the lap robe more securely about her trembling shoulders, not realizing that his very presence was adding to her distress. Her eyes filled with panic, and Nick watched as she quickly scanned the room like a trapped animal seeking means of escape. Kneeling beside her chair, he pulled the wet sackcloth from about her legs to reveal a slender calf and fine-turned ankle. His stomach muscles knotted and, despite the filth that covered her, his hand ached to touch.

  “Please be careful, sir,” Beckett pleaded, handing him a squat glass filled with amber liquid.Your grandmother would take her cane to me if anything was to happen to you.”

  Dismissing the warning, Nick took her stiff fingers and wrapped them around the glassthen urged the drink to her mouth. He chuckled at her grimace as the first of the spirits passed her lips. “I don’t think our little stowaway is fond of brandy.” But he persisted with his efforts until she had downed the contents.

  “Now,” he said gently, setting the glass aside, “I can tell from your speech that you’re from the North, so why don’t you tell us who you are and how you came to be aboard my ship?”

  “Your ship?” The last scrap of color drained from her face. “If that was your ship, then you know, sir, that my name is Sarah Townsend and that I was kidnapped.”

  Nick jerked back as if she had slapped him, and his scowl darkened. “I would be careful, my little miss, just who you accuse of kidnapping – “

  “She might speak the truth, sir,” Beckett interrupted. “Captain Riggins being the scoundrel that he is.” But at Nick’s glare the agent edged back again toward the door. “Of course there is always the chance that the captain paid good coin for her. Even though she be a bit on the slight side.”

  Nick watched as tears welled in her eyes and wondered why they should move him. He cared not a whit about the girl, he only wanted answers. “You say you were abducted, yet Riggins has papers for you. Was he the one who took you from your home?” His voice grew hard with his impatience.

  A single tear traced a path through the grime on her cheek. “I don’t know. I only know that two men came to my house in the middle of the night and then I was on that ship.” A violent shudder consumed her. “I’ve got to get back. My family must be frantic by now.” She tried to rise, but her legs refused to support her.

  “Do ye want me to take her back to the wharf, sir?” Beckett asked.

  Nick held her panicked gaze with his and suddenly realized his mind was settled. “No, I’ll keep her here tonight.”

  Beckett nodded. His employer’s manner didn’t allow for further questions and he struggled to keep his surprise from showing. “Kind” was not a word he would ever have used to describe Nick Beaumont.

  “I want you at the wharf at sunrise,” Nick continued. “Stress to Captain Riggins how important it is for him to find those papers, if, indeed, they really exist. Then have the crew remove that scum from my ship. Put word out that Riggins is a thief and no longer works for Beaumont Shipping.”

  “Ye know if I do that, sir, Riggins will be hard pressed to find work as a mate, let alone a captain.”

  Nick turned and cast a dark look in Beckett’s direction.

  Beckett saluted. “Consider it done, sir.”

  As the door clicked from Beckett’s departure, Nick watched the sound snap Sarah back to reality. “I can’t stay here,” she declared, panic edging her voice, and this time when she jerked upright, she managed to stand.

  Nick caught her arms as she began to sway. “I don’t really think you have much choice in the matter, my dear.”

  Her eyes, wide and frightened, darted about the room in confusion. Frantically she pulled herself from Nick’s grasp. “I’ve got to get home. Which way is Salem?” She took less than a step before spinning back in his direction. “I have to . . . “But her words never came as her body failed her and she fainted.

  Catching her before she hit the floor, Nick swung her high into his arms, surprised at how light and fragile she felt. Her head rolled to rest on his shoulder and for a moment he stood silent before the fire, angered by the desires that clamored throughout his body. The hall clock struck the half hour, its deep chime ringing through the house. Sarah never moved. Not when Nick slowly climbed the stairs or later when he laid her on his bed.