Blackwells: My Timeswept Heart - Part 11
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Part 11

Like being reprimanded for failing in your job, she reasoned. "But Mr. Potts said he did it because he thought / would harm the captain. How much more loyalty does Black well want?"

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He shook his head. " Tis been loyalty well earned, that I can tell you truly. I'd give me life for the capt'n, as would any man aboard, and I can count one occasion more than I care to of when the boy's-eh, the capt'n's risked all to save just one of us." His eyes sparked with pride. "Aye. He's a fair man, la.s.s. Fairer than any capt'n most of these men have served afore. Such a careless act as Mr. Potts is guilty of could possibly be the cause of all our deaths. Harken to me." He shook a finger for emphasis, then caught himself, reddening. "The Sea Witch needs every able hand mannin' his station and doin' his job or 'tis no doubt she'd perish."

Tess stared blankly at Duncan. Beam me up, Scotty, she thought dismally. "Duncan, this isn't real. It's a game, a play, and you're all-actors. It's supposed to be fun"

The old man blinked, his brows raised high into his scalp. "I beg your pardon?"

"Blackwell is simply a bored little rich boy with money to burn and time to waste, and you're all partic.i.p.ants in his little fantasy." Her tone was flat, tired.

He stood abruptly. "I don't know where you've gained such ridiculous information, but though Capt'n Blackwell be a wealthy sort, he's in these waters for a purpose! And I a.s.sure you, Lady Renfrew, he is neither bored or wasteful."

She latched onto that, for it was clear she wasn't going to get a confession to the masquerade. "And what is that purpose?"

Duncan turned his face away. " Tis not me place to speak of it," he muttered, then moved across the room to the cabinet and withdrew two small jars and

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a bottle. Without a word he went back to her, and whether she requested it or not, he tended the welt on her shoulder.

"I want to see Mr. Potts."

"The capt'n will not allow it."

"I don't care what he'll allow"

"The capt'n saw to the lad's wounds himself."

Tess looked back over her shoulder. "Did he really?"

"I told you, miss. It sickened him as much as it did you." He paused, then added, " 'Twas the capt'n himself that tended you, la.s.s, neglecting all else to see you through a dangerous fever."

For a full minute Tess allowed the thrill of those words wash over her. She rubbed her forehead. "I'm so confused, Duncan. He's been so kind to me and then to witness that behavior-I think you're all taking this too far. Blackwell could go to prison for that."

"Not likely. And be a.s.sured no one aboard believes 'twould come about." It was a quiet moment before he said softly, "It was your reputation he sought to clear."

She looked up, eyes round. With a beating?

"And whether it pleases you or nay, Lady Renfrew, here the capt'n is the law."

The law. Obviously there were rules to this game she wasn't aware of but they were eager to adhere to. Tess recalled the boatswain's confession. He knew the punishment before he let the hook loose, admitting his guilt. Christ, what else were they prepared to do for this adventure?

"How is Potts?" She couldn't help but be sympa-

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thetic to such a demented soul.

"At his duties."

"What? You can't be serious! He was so hurt." She started to rise, but he gently held her down.

"He considers himself fortunate to have received only two lashes to the ten ordered." He paused. "You're to be admired for your conviction, la.s.s."

"Fat lot of good it did," she hissed when he applied a stinging lotion to her wound. "Why do they all think I'm a witch, Duncan?" She had to grasp their reasons, if anything, to get a handle on this.

He shrugged. "Tales are told, Davy Jones, sirens of the deep luring sailors to their death, and all they know of you is that you came from the sea."

So, she thought with a touch of surprise, Blackwell kept what he knew to himself. "And because they thought I could talk to the dolphin?"

"Aye." He finished the treatment and stepped back.

Tess turned fully, hands folded on her lap. "I can't, you know. It was merely his response to me. He can communicate, in his own way-" Why am I explaining all this? He had to know that much about the animals. G.o.d, she was starting to think like them!

Duncan saw her rising agitation and said, "A dolphin is good luck if it follows a ship."

"And a woman aboard is a curse!" came from the doorway and they both looked up to see the captain enter and toss several charts on the table. His expression said he was angry with her.

"Then put me ash.o.r.e."

"Would that twere possible," Dane remarked a tad wistfully, then gestured sharply to Duncan. The old man gave her a sympathetic look, then went to the

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captain. They spoke briefly, then Duncan turned toward the door, glancing uncertainly between the couple before he left th'em alone.

Tess was feeling a little guilty. Very little. She'd interfered in the workings of his ship, called him names before his crew, oh, jeez-and it was clear now her presence was no longer wanted. Not that it ever was, she thought, rising slowly from her seat. Why does that hurt so much? Because this is their party and you're the uninvited guest, or rather witch. But that didn't change how she felt about the whipping. Her gaze crept across the floor and up from his boots to meet those dangerous eyes. His body was rigid, a muscle working furiously in his jaw.

"Your shoulder?" It sounded like a demand.

"It's fine."

"Good. Twas extremely idiotic of you to put yourself into that situation."

Her dander rose. "Look, Blackwell, I'm sorry I've interfered in your fun, but-"

"Fun! You think I am here for b.l.o.o.d.y holiday!" His sharp bark of laughter made her flinch. "Woman, you are definitely the most confusing creature I have ever encountered. A man tries to kill you and you defend him, take a lash for him! Any other female would demand he be drawn and quartered!"

"That's disgusting!"

"Ahh well, at least your views of me have remained evergreen." Caustic, mocking.

"Why are you sailing in the West Indies?"

Something flickered in his pale eyes. "That-ma-dame-is none of your business."

That stung. Tess walked across the room, her inten-

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tion to go above deck, but she hadn't made it as far as the door when he grabbed her arm.

"Where, pray tell, do you think you're going?"

"For some fresh air. It's become noticeably colder in here."

"I forbid if."

"Guess again, Blackwell." She tried prying his fingers from her arm.

"You would risk your life for a few breaths of air?"

"Call me reckless."

"d.a.m.n it, woman!" He jerked on her arm. "Did this morn prove naught to you?"

She went still. "Yes, Blackwell, it certainly did."

Dane searched her face. She distrusted him. Perhaps loathed him, he feared. He'd worked himself into a splendid rage upon deck and had every intention of ignoring the woman and the power she wielded over him. He simply could not allow her to so undermine him, no matter how she felt. But with her alluring presence, his emotions were in a fine mess. He thought he'd had them sufficiently focused before he'd entered the cabin, but one look at her crestfallen expression and he felt ashamed. He shouldn't be, but he was. To have sunk so low in her eyes was a sensation he neither liked nor cared to admit.

She was a sadly twisted flower, he reminded himself. After all, she believed it to be the twentieth century? And did she not talk to the grampus? Was that why her family had set her adrift? For the lady's imagination was not to be believed. And her actions? Climbing the bowsprit!

"What are you thinking, Blackwell?" she whispered

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softly, penetrating his thoughts. His expression had revealed so much in those few seconds.

"I was curious as to why you were so offended at the words 'street urchin'?"

Her gaze narrowed to mere slits. "That, Captain Blackwell, is none of your d.a.m.n business."

"You curse like a fishwife."

"So do you."

"I'm a man."

A brow lifted. "Double standards, how unique."

"Nay, I dare say yours are much higher than mine."

"Let go of me, Blackwell."

Suddenly he pulled her into his arms, his gaze briefly slipping over her face before his lips crashed down onto hers. She fought him, pushing at his chest, her head thrashing from side to side. His response was to bury a hand in her hair, imprisoning her as he deepened his kiss to mind-boggling proportions, prying open her mouth and pushing his tongue inside. She moaned, small fists pounding his biceps and shoulders, trying to battle the gush of heat spilling over her body. He took her breath inside himself, pulling her flush against him, and even through the heavy layers of cloth, Tess felt his arousal, bold and hard with his sudden need for her. Her! He was unrelenting, large hands moving urgently over her slim-ness, mastering her until she ceased her fight. Then, abruptly, he gentled his a.s.sault, caressing the curve of her back, lightly licking her bruised lips, then tasting her again with exquisite tenderness as if apologizing for his brutality.

"Let go."

"Nay, not yet," he murmured against her lips, his

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strong arms swallowing her in his embrace as he captured her mouth again.

"d.a.m.n you, Blackwell," she whispered breathlessly when his lips drifted across her cheek to the sensitive flesh below her ear.