The Cracksman's Kiss Page 12

  “I was bored. Your cook chased me from the galley with a broom.” She folded her arms across her chest, vexed with the cook’s treatment and added, “I only wanted to help.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I am afraid Perrier is very particular about who is allowed in his domain. If you like, I will speak to him.”

  She shook her head. “I would not want to make him angry with me.”

  “You are right—he might take his spite out on our dinner.” He gave her a teasing grin before consulting his fob watch and then looking up at the sky. Ominous black clouds rolled above them, lightning turning the far horizon phosphorescent. “I fear we are in for a rough night.”

  The words barely left his lips than the sky rumbled and unleashed its fury, the rain pelting them with vigor. Within seconds the deluge turned to hail the size of walnuts. Kassie let out a squeal as Cohen grasped her hand and towed her below to the cabin.

  Laughing, she jerked off her cloak and tossed it across the back of a chair as they entered the parlor. She smirked at Cohen. His hair was plastered against his head, water dripping down his face onto his sodden coat. Even half drowned, he is handsome. She looked away and crossed to the fire, shaking her hair loose from its tidy bun to dry. Cohen joined her and offered a towel.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiled, draping his own over his head and rubbing it with vigor. “You will need to batten down the hatches.”

  “What does that mean?” She wiped her face.

  He finished drying his hair and slung the damp cloth around his neck. “It means, make sure everything that is not secured to the wall or the floor is stored away in those big trunks over there.” As if to emphasize his words, the ship lurched to the side. Kassie lost her balance and staggered into Cohen. He wrapped his arms around her with a grin. “So they do not roll around,” he finished with a cheeky grin.

  “Oh.” Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at him, his arms tightening and his look heated. His gaze shifted to her mouth and without thinking she slipped her tongue between her lips to moisten them. Is he going to kiss me? I certainly hope so. His head dipped toward hers, his eyes darkening. I should not let him kiss me. I am still married to the earl. When his lips touched hers something akin to liquid fire shot through her limbs. Her body trembled, her knees turning to rubber as she sagged against him. Before she knew it she was in his embrace as he carried her to the bedchamber. She moaned against his lips when he laid her on the bed and lowered himself beside her. When his lips left hers to travel down the sensitive column of her neck she stiffened. What am I doing? “Please, we cannot, I cannot…”

  “Yes, we can,” the words were murmured against her neck. His lips traced their way downward, leaving tingles of sensation in their wake until they came to the neckline of her modest blouse. He kissed the sensitive skin along her collarbone as his fingers fumbled with the laces. I should protest. I should stop him. However, when she took a deep breath, no words came out, only a sigh of pleasure when he pealed back the material and his lips warmed her breast.

  His mouth played there for a moment before he moaned and sat up, his eyes dark and restless. “If I do not stop now, I will not be able to. It is too soon since Lucca’s birth for me to want you this way.”

  The euphoric feelings vanished as the reality of what she was doing came crashing down on her. I am immoral and wanton. I will surely be cast into the fiery pits of hell for all eternity. No other woman could be as thoroughly impure. I am supposed to be a good minister’s daughter.

  She choked back a sob, tears streaming down her face.

  “Kassie?” His brows furrowed. “Kassie, what is it?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut to block out his concern. “I am a sinful person.”

  “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “I—you—every time you touch me … I feel all these things I should not.”

  He chuckled. “There is nothing wrong with enjoying being made love to, Kassie.”

  She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Yes, there is. I should not feel these things. My husband…”

  The smile vanished from his face though his eyes still twinkled with mirth. “Your husband, what?”

  She looked down at her hands. “My husband did not make me feel the way you do. It is evil of me to be so … wanton.”

  This time Cohen threw back his head and laughed. She scurried from the bed and turned her back on him. Clenching her teeth, she jerked the front of her blouse together and tightened the laces. How dare he make fun of me!

  His laughter receded into chuckles of amusement. “Kassie.”

  She ignored him, seething with anger she struggled to keep in check.

  “Kassie.” His voice sobered. The bed creaked before his hand caught her fingers as she knotted the strings.

  “Leave me be.” She batted it away.

  “I did not mean to laugh. Please forgive me.”

  Kassie lifted her chin to glower at him. “You were making light of my feelings.”

  He gave her a pleading look. “I know, and for that I am sorry.” He drew her to him. “Cass, you are not wanton. Every woman has the right to feel passion and desire. It is not wrong to enjoy it when I make love to you.”

  Her face flamed with embarrassment. “It is wrong, do you not see? You are not my husband.”

  Cohen tilted her head up to look her in the eye. “Lord Everton is the one who is wrong. It was wrong of him to marry you and not take care to see to your satisfaction before his own. Just as it was wrong of him to treat you like a child instead of the beautiful and desirable woman you are. It is not sinful to enjoy lying together when two people love each other.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Did he just say he loves me? She looked deep into his eyes, searching for the truth she was so desperate to believe. It was there. She saw the love shining in his eyes. He does love me.

  The baby began to fuss in his basket by the bed. Cohen stepped away from her and picked Lucca up with a grimace, then gave her a lopsided grin. “I think our son needs a change.” He handed her the baby, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. “See to him while I go speak with Rennie and the crew.”

  * * * *

  Boom!

  Kassie looked up from settling Lucca, swaddled in clean cloth and fed in his basket. The ship shuddered and listed to one side. Screams rent the air and fear clawed at her insides. What was happening? Was the storm tearing apart the ship? She snatched up Lucca’s basket and folded a blanket over the top to keep out the wind. Tucking it under her arm she hurried out the cabin door and up top to see what was happening.

  Smoke filled the air, its thick burning stench making her cough. Covering her mouth and nose with the edge of her cloak she made her way across the deck, straining to see. A large gap in the railing appeared as the smoke shifted, flames licking at the charred and splintered remains. She spotted Cohen standing by the gap, shouting and waving his arms. Slipping and sliding across the rolling deck, she scrambled toward him.

  Cohen pivoted and noticed her. “Kassie! Go back below!”

  A large wave crashed over the deck, splattering her skirts, and knocking her off balance. She tumbled forward and Cohen grasped her arm to steady her. She caught her breath as he took the basket from her and tucked it tight under his free arm.

  The thunderous noise of the storm almost drowned out her voice. “What is going on?”

  “There is a ship firing its cannons on us, probably Everton’s.”

  Before Kassie could question him further there was a brilliant flash of light from the bow Timber screeched as it shattered into thousands of splinters and rained down upon them. Kassie flailed helpless, falling onto the planking. Another blast followed the first. The ship trembled and rolled as she fought to regain her footing on the slippery surface. Rolling onto her knees she lifted her head and looked around. Cohen was gone. Terrified, she scanned the vessel but he and the baby were nowhere to be seen. “Cohen! Cohen!”

  A burly sh
ape manifested out of the smoke and gloom. “Kassie, lass!”

  She squinted as the shape took on the form of the Scotsman. “Auggie? Cohen was here … I do not see him now … he is gone … Lucca, too!”

  Forton grasped her arm, hauling her to her feet. “Come on, lassie! We need to get to the row boat. The Discovery, she’s sinkin’ fast.”

  Kassie shook her head, terror rooting her to the spot. “No! I cannot leave without Lucca!”

  The giant of a man lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder. “I’m sure the wee bairn is safe with Cohen.” He trotted across to the other side of the ship. When they reached the railing he set her down, before swinging up and over it. “Climb down after me, lassie, so I kin steady ye.” He disappeared over the side.

  Another blast shook the ship and the wooden planks dropped out from under her. In terror Kassie grasped for anything to keep from falling. Screaming in desperation she tried to slow her descent into the unknown. Pain on the side of her head registered before her fall was stopped short by an icy stab that knocked the wind from her lungs. Freezing water rushed over her head, distorting all the sounds around her. Panic took hold of her sluggish mind. Kicking and clawing, she fought her waterlogged skirts and cloak to get to the surface, her lungs burning with the need for air as her mind began to fade. I am going to die. I never even had the chance to tell Cohen I love him.

  Something grabbed her arm, and she opened her mouth to protest without thinking. Cold water filled her lungs. Blackness threatened to take her as her sluggish mind slowed. Without warning, her head popped free of the water, and she spewed up salty seawater, and then inhaled a huge gulp of air. Coughing and sputtering, she was hauled over the side of a small row boat. She lay there, limp, unable to move, gasping for breath. Shadows blurred and moved before her eyes.

  “Kassie … lass … off … wet clothes … Kassie?”

  She rolled herself into a small ball and lay shivering, unable to make sense of the voices and shadows around her. Hands removed her clothes, but she could not will her numb mind and body to respond. Something dry was wrapped around her before she was lifted and set down again, her teeth chattering.

  “Kassie. Kin ye hear me lass?”

  Kassie turned her head. Her fuzzy vision registered the large form of Forton. “Auggie?” He smiled; at least, she thought he did.

  “Aye, lassie. Ye got a bad bump on yer noggin’ ye did.”

  She put a hand to her throbbing head and touched the lump forming there. When she moved her hand, her fingers were sticky and wet. She stared without comprehension at the red smear on her fingers as nausea overwhelmed her. Dizzy and disoriented, she tried to focus her eyes, but the voices faded away.

  * * * *

  Gravel scraped the bottom of the boat. Kassie forced her eyes open. It was dark. Something flapped above her … the distinct sound of rain splattering on a tarp … something crinkled and drops of cold rain hit her face.

  “Kassie, lass, ye need to get up.”

  Hands helped her to her feet. She swayed on wobbly legs and leaned against a hard chest. Powerful arms swept her up and cradled her against warmth. “Cohen?”

  “Nay, lass. It is jus’ me, Auggie.”

  Each footstep jarred her head as he carried her. She moaned. In her mind Cohen stood, holding the basket. Then he was gone in a puff of black smoke and soot. “Where is Lucca?” She felt rather than heard the catch in Auggie’s breath.

  “They’re both gone, lass.”

  She tried to lift her head but the effort was too much. “Gone?” Her aching brain could not make the connection. Gone?

  “Rest now, lassie, I promised Ashton I would take care of ye if anything happened to him. Yer safe with me.”

  Gone? Something happened. Gone where? The words circled around in her mind again and again without her being able to piece them together.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kassie stared at the pale green canvas stretched above her head. She shivered, wrapping Auggie’s tartan cloak tighter around herself. Cohen and Lucca are gone, killed by my husband’s men, down into the depths of the unforgiving sea with the ship. Her heart and mind, dull with grief, spoke the words, but her tears were spent. What do I do now? Where will I go? Will the earl think I, too, am dead? If he finds out I am alive, will he seek to have me returned to him?

  “Kassie, lass.”

  She turned her head as Auggie pulled back the flap on the makeshift tent.

  He looked past her, not meeting her eye. “I brought back a coach and something to eat.”

  Kassie turned her face away and returned the focus of her stare to the tent roof. He continued in the same odd flat tone he used to tell her of their deaths. “I commissioned a ship. I thought maybe ye could come back with me to Marseilles. I need to tell Ashton’s family of…” His voice caught with sorrow. “I need to tell them he is…dead.”

  Kassie stared at a bead of condensation trickling in a jagged path down the underside of the canvas. Go to France, where Cohen’s brother and sisters live, with all their children.

  “Kassie?”

  She nodded, unable to force the words past her swollen, salt cracked lips.

  It was silent for a moment. She ignored him, continuing to watch the bead of water sliding until it crossed the seam. It trickled down the wall, fading from her line of vision.

  “I brought ye some clothes. I thought yers might be crusty with salt and as uncomfortable as mine.”

  She caught the flash of his coat out of the corner of her eye. The paper package crinkled as he placed it by her head. The tent flap lifted, brightening the interior for a moment before rustling back into place. I am alone. She let her breath escape in a crisp whoosh of cool white air, and then rolled onto her side and sat up. Her head swam, her vision blurring at the sudden movement.Once she became accustomed to being upright she reached for the package. Slipping off the string holding the paper she unrolled it. Nestled inside was a chemise, a soft blue wool skirt, a simple white blouse and a darker blue cloak. It was nice of Auggie to think of her comfort and purchase the garments. She must remember to thank him for his care these last two days.

  She got dressed, shivering in the frigid spring air. It did not matter if she froze to death. Nothing really matters anymore. She stood up taking care not to jar her still tender head and wandered from the tent. A coach sat opposite the fire. Two brown horses, each standing with a hind foot cocked in rest, dozed in their harness while the coachman waited.

  Auggie looked up from his seat on a stump. He gave her a weak smile which she did not bother to return and held her hands out to the fire, staring into the dying flames. Soon the flames will disappear completely and leave me to face the cold world alone … again.

  “Kassie?”

  She did not look up. A tin trencher of food entered her line of vision.

  “Ye must eat something, lass.”

  She reached out a shaky hand and took the crude trencher even though she did not want to. It was easier to humor Auggie than listen to him nag. She glanced at the contents. The thick slice of bread, roasted chicken breast, and still steaming potato did nothing to tempt her appetite. Heaving a dejected groan, she lowered herself to the damp grass and picked at the meal. Once she picked apart the food and pushed it around for a sufficient amount of time she set the trencher beside her. She watched as Auggie kicked dirt on the remains of the campfire. Gone, like Cohen and Lucca. Gone, like my will to go on by myself.

  Auggie crossed to where she sat and held out his hand. Kassie was aware of the heat as he sealed her cold fingers in his and helped her up. She allowed him to lead her to the coach and lift her in. Once he was seated, he tapped on the roof, and they headed for the docks of the tiny town of Penzance. We were lucky, he told me… Was that yesterday, perhaps? The days and nights ran into themselves in an indistinguishable blur of heartache. Yes, perhaps yesterday he told me the storm and the sea current washed us ashore only a few short miles from the seaside town. Lucky, why d
o I not feel so lucky? I do not feel anything.

  She turned and stared out the window as the tears she thought were dried and gone wet her eyelids and trickled down her cheeks. Why did I not die? Anger pricked her chest, the first vibrant emotion she acknowledged since her near drowning. Auggie is why I did not die. Damn him! It is his fault I am trapped in this cocoon of pain. Damn him. She bit her lip. No, that is not fair. It is not his fault. There is only one man I should hate. Lord Everton.

  The damp forest gave way to the cobbled streets of the town. Cheery looking people bustled here and there, on their way to something or someone important. She swiped the tears from her face, angry to have let her emotions loose and crossed her arms. Crying would not bring Lucca back. It was a sign of weakness, something only pathetic women did according to the earl.

  The coach pulled up in front of the little dock where two small merchant ships and a large schooner were moored. Auggie hoped out and turned to help her. She climbed down and shuffled across the dock with him, oblivious to where they were going. Her gave focused down at her feet as they made their way up the gangplank and she didn’t bothering lifting it when the captain of the ship greeted them.

  “Welcome, Mister Forton, Comtésse Ashton.”

  Kassie blinked. Comtésse Ashton?

  Auggie squeezed her hand. “Thank ye, Captain Smith. I appreciate ye taking us on board at such short notice.”

  “It was the least I could do for you and Ashton’s widow.”

  This time Kassie’s head snapped up of its own accord. She stared at the captain and then Auggie. Before she could question either man, Auggie tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and towed her forward down the deck. “I will see Comtésse Ashton is settled in her cabin and be back to discuss payment.”

  The captain nodded.

  Kassie followed Auggie down the corridor to a set of doors. “Why did you call me Comtésse Ashton?”