The food on Elizabeth’s platter lost its appeal. She pushed it away and pulled her knees up to her chest underthe blankets.
“Ye’re not feelin’ ill right now, are ye?” Alex asked, pointing at the bucket for Jaffa to push closer.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I am well enough.” She had been out on a fishing boat once and, until Alex had mentioned nausea, she had been perfectly fit. Now she was not so certain.
Jaffa placed the bucket closer, saying to Alexandra, “Perhaps the mention of bile would put most ladies off their food.”
Twisting her face, balling her hands into fists, Alexandra said heatedly, “I can calculate a cannon’s trajectory at a glance, throw me knife within a hairbreadth of me target, and creep up on a ship before the lookout calls a warnin’, but this lady business’ll be the death of me.” She pounded her fist against her thighs. “I’ll learn how to act like a lady. Darcy said ye’re the finest lady he knows, and I trust ye can teach me.”
A shiver shot from Elizabeth’s head down to her toes. Had she heard correctly? “Whotold you about me?”
A mouth full of sausage, bread, and egg along with her newly acquired table manners prevented Alexandra from answering. And then, when she had counted her chews and swallowed, a scuffle from the other side of the door interrupted her further.
Bang bang bang!A fist hammered against the door.
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “That’ll be him. That lout, Cotton, must’ve told him. Nothin’ but fluff in his head.”
Bang bang bang!
“Open the door ‘fore he breaks it down!” she ordered.
Jaffa opened the door.
And Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. “Mr. Darcy!” she whispered.
He stood in the breeze, five days of stubble covering his face, his shirt open at the collar. Never had Elizabeth seen him so handsome. So rugged. So angry.
CHAPTER 14
Darcy had never known such fury and horror! Yet Elizabeth looked as composed as a lady receiving guests at a ball. He had always wondered how long her hair was when it was not smoothed and pinned into submission. The sight of her untamed curls cascading over her shoulders to her waist made him want to bury his fingers in her tresses to test their silkiness.
The corners of her lips pulled into a smile, and Darcy felt her brave humor like a stab to the gut. Were it not for him, Elizabeth would not be on this God-forsaken ship. She would not be in danger. As if his faults to the one woman whose good opinion he craved were not enough, he could never forgive himself for exposing her to the likes of Alex and her crew.
Alex. Darcy leveled a glare at her.
She rolled her eyes and stood. “Stop scowlin’, Mr.Darcy. Ye ought to be happy to have yer young lady aboard. She’s as handsome as ye said, and intelligent.”
Darcy felt his frown deepen. He must have said a great deal more than just her name while he slept. Voice hard, his irate stare fixed on Alexandra, he said, “Ladies do not kidnap people at their will.”
She shrugged. “Ye never told me not to. How was I supposed to know?”
He had thought it obvious.
Alex continued, the satisfaction in her expression deepening Darcy’s ire, “Now that yer Elizabeth is here, she’ll take over me lady lessons while ye carry on with yer ship duties.” She used Elizabeth’s fork to stab a piece of sausage from the plate. “Very good,” she commented around her mouthful. Tearing a piece of bread and popping it into her mouth, she said, “The bread is tougher than I like, though. Have Jean-Christophe show ye how to make it softer.”
Elizabeth looked down at her tray and up at Darcy, and he tried to control the burn rising to his cheeks. For her to know he had been reduced to the role of a cook’s helper, a servant, was more than he could bear. He turned his palms, hiding them against his trousers. Where he did not have cuts and burns from the kitchen, he had blisters and raw flesh from the ropes aloft.
Oblivious to the consequences of her blabbering, Alex said, “When ye’re done withthat, ye can race Cotton up the riggin’. How’re yer hands?” She motioned for him to hold them out for her to inspect.
He crossed his arms over his chest. A man could only take so much humiliation. “Strong enough to strangle you unless you return Miss Elizabeth to her family immediately.” His tone was murderous.
Darcy was not given to violence. Wickham’s continued existence was proof enough of that. Before this moment, Darcy never would have believed himself capable of threatening a woman. But Alex was his foremost enemy. The rage she inspired surpassed all that Wickham had ever provoked within him—all the anger and fear of a lifetime eclipsed in the blink of an eye the moment Darcy saw Elizabeth aboard theFancy.
He had to protect her. He had to get her off this cursed ship. “We cannot be far from the shore. Return her.”
“Or what?” Alexandra purred, watching him like a cat with a bird in its paw.
“Or you shall regret it.” Darcy did not say the words lightly. He always meant what he said; he always kept his word.
