Ramsey's head jerked up, his features pulling taut. It had been a while since he'd seen Dane laugh, and he couldn't help but smile. The man was so filled with revenge of late that he hadn't made time to enjoy anything. Were I he, Ram thought, envious of the secrets the pair were sharing at that moment. The intimate look Tess sent Dane brimmed with heat and sensuality, and Ramsey felt a sharp jealous ache that she'd bestow such a glance on his friend. He calmed himself. They had yet begun the evening, he decided confidently.

A chime sounded, and Duncan announced that dinner was served.

Tess turned to see the officers standing behind their chairs as Dane maneuvered her to the far end. She adjusted the heavy skirts and sat down, glancing back over her shoulder at Dane as he scooted the chair beneath her. There was a silent message in that soft look, she thought, and wondered what it was. Chair legs sc.r.a.ped against the floor as the men seated themselves only after she was firmly planted. A girl could get used to all this chivalry, Tess decided as Dane took his place directly opposite her. To her left was Captain O'Keefe, smiling that s.e.xy heart-stopping smile; to her right was Gaelan 190.

Thorpe. She couldn't help but notice that every man appeared interested in how she placed her napkin.

Dane watched her, unaware of what he was putting on his plate. Though hers was full, she waited patiently until all had been served, then finally tasted the meal. Unused to the female company, men devoured the fare before them with a vengeance, but Tess dined slowly, savoring each bite. Her manners were impeccable, oddly meticulous, and he observed as she set the knife aside after each cut, then switched hands. So elegant. Every other soul kept fork and knife in his grip constantly, himself included.

"I see you still employ the same cook, eh, Blackwell?" Ramsey commented, enjoying the delicate flavor of the poached fish. "The odd little man certainly does put on a splendid fare."

"Aye, with meager stores he does do rather well," Dane replied.

"Have you met the cook, Lady Renfrew?" Ramsey asked.

" 'Fraid not." She sipped her wine, wishing it were a Diet c.o.ke. "Captain Blackwell forbade me to go belowdecks, and I a.s.sume that's where the chef is."

"A wise command, Dane," Ramsey said, glancing at the captain, then shoving a generous portion of chicken into his mouth.

"I still don't understand what's so bad about going below?" Her remark caused several men to chuckle.

" 'Tis not a fit place for a lady," Gaelan told her. "And our cook has a reputation. One does not enter his domain."

191.

Tess's eyes widened a fraction. "No one?" She looked at Dane. "Not even you?"

"He has some peculiar possessiveness about the galley." Dane shrugged, sawing into his meat.

"He lopped off a sailor's finger once for sneaking a taste of his cakes."

Tess set her fork down with a sharp clink. "That's barbaric!"

Dane dealt Aaron a harsh glance, then looked to Tess. "Do not worry yourself, Lady Renfrew. He rarely shows himself above decks and does not speak at all." His cool tone implied the matter was not up for discussion as he addressed the man beside him.

Tess fumed at his att.i.tude and ground out, "What type of ship is Triton's Will, Captain O'Keefe?" before turning to look at the man.

"A frigate, m'lady, a duplicate of the Sea Witch" Ram hid a smile as he slavered b.u.t.ter on a small crust of bread, then popped it into his mouth.

Hard arteries by forty, she thought. "Exact? The ceilings raised, I mean." He nodded. "I guess it's necessary with you being so tall."

His grin was devilish. "Ahh, so there is something the lady has noticed of this poor, lonely seaman."

"You mean besides your conceit?"

He covered his heart with his hand, dark eyes twinkling. "Ouch, you wound me dearly, fair lady, with the venomous arrows you thrust deep into my tender heart."

"Your skin is too thick, O'Keefe," she murmured, her eyes laughing.

"Yet you have pierced its many layers, m'lady."

192.

A tapered brow rose. "Cowhide that soft, huh?"

Gaelan tried to disguise his chuckle, but Ramsey threw his head back and laughed aloud.

"Ahh, such a sharp tongue you wield, la.s.s. Pray, what cause have I given for you to be so harsh with me?"

"I'm not*being harsh, Captain O'Keefe. Truthful I think is a better word. You're an outrageous flirt, and I know it."

Ramsey enjoyed her frankness. "Sweet la.s.s," he grasped her hand. "Is there any way to win your cold heart?"

She pulled free. "I didn't know it was up for grabs."

Ramsey frowned, taking a moment to understand what she meant. "Do not all ladies of age seek to find their heartmate and wed?"

"You're of age, are you?"

The comment brought soft laughter from the men sitting close. Ramsey sighed heavily. "I fear I shan't marry in the near future."

Her eyes sparkled. "You mean, not unless there's a gun aimed at your head." Ramsey actually flushed at that. "Why do men think all women have on their minds is marriage, children, cooking, cleaning, and laundry. Have you ever done laundry, Captain?"

He shook his head, then asked, "Have you, la.s.s?"

"Sure."

Ram was shocked that she had. "Ladies usually leave such ch.o.r.es to servants," he told her. They were all looking at her rather oddly now.

She lifted her chin defiantly. "Hard work is good for the soul, or haven't you heard?" She was glad to 193.

see them look a bit shamefaced. "I've always taken care of myself, Captain O'Keefe, and laundry's a real pain. Not what I'd call a great way to spend the day." Tess knew doing. laundry in 1789 bordered on beating it against a rock. "And it's certainly not my prime goal in life."

"Dare I ask what is your," his brows scrunched, "prime goal?"

Tess glanced at Dane and noticed that he'd been listening, "A couple of weeks ago I could have told you, but now, I'm not so sure," she answered softly.

"Will you return to your home, then?" Ramsey asked, then watched her expression cloud. She looked down at her plate.

"I cant, O'Keefe. I can never go home." Because it doesn't exist, she thought, and for a second wondered about Penny, hoping her career was still intact. Then it hit her that Penny wouldn't be born for another hundred and seventy-five years!

"Surely there are people looking for you? Relatives? Your parents, perchance?" Ramsey's tone was one of honest concern.

"Hardly." Her gaze met Dane's. "They're dead. A car-carriage accident," she corrected quickly. A drunk driver, Tess raged silently. How could she explain she'd been thrown to the floor of the parked car, and the only injury she'd received was a wrenched kneecap, her foster parents killed, and her Olympic career trashed for good.

"I'm sorry for your loss, m'lady," Dane heard Ram say and felt a moment of confusion. If her family had not set her adrift, then who? Had she truly jumped ship in fear for her life? He'd once 194.

considered that statement simply to be the ravings of a madwoman. But now- "Thanks, O'Keefe. Where are you from?" she said, changing the subject.

"I hail from Lexington, m'lady."

"How come you don't have an accent?"

"Mayhaps because I have not set foot on dry land for any length of time in nearly fifteen years."

"Good G.o.d! You mean you've been on ship that long?"

"Aye, a seaman is a seaman, la.s.s." He focused his attention on his meal.

"You too, Mr. Thorpe?"

Gaelan swallowed, delighted she finally noticed his presence. "Aye, I fear I'm not as worldly as the captain here, m'lady. Tis been a mere ten years since I've stepped onto my family's plantation in North Carolina."

Tess relaxed in her chair, glancing between the two. "I bet the pair of you left a trail of broken hearts up and down the East Coast."

"I hold no such honor, m'lady," Gaelan put in with a chuckle. "I've not the reputation with the ladies as does Captains Blackwell and O'Kee-" He cut himself off when her smile drooped. "Forgive me, Lady Renfrew. I did not mean to insult you."

"You haven't." Her gaze shifted. "So-you and Blackwell have a reputation, huh?"

Ramsey leaned closer. "Is it possible 'tis jealousy I hear in your voice, m'lady?" She chuckled throatily, the husky sound warming Ramsey to the core.

"Nope, the G.o.d's truth, I think." She sampled the fish. "What sort of reputation, Mr. Thorpe?"

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He looked uncomfortable. "Not one I would discuss with a lady," he mumbled, glancing away.

"Oho. That kind." Her eyes twinkled at his distress. "Relax, Mr. Thorpe. Men and women are a fact of life."

"So delighted to hear you speak so, Lady Renfrew," Ramsey murmured silkily.

Tess glanced to her side. "Down, boy, down." She was close enough to catch the woodsy scent of his cologne, see the unbelievable length of his lashes. One of these days, she thought, he was going to get his comeuppance. He'll fall madly in love with a woman who is unaffected by his good looks and charm, and Tess silently hoped she was around to see the man suffer.

"Nay, I believe if we strengthen our military it will only give the notion that we wish to fight," someone said loudly enough for her to hear. Her curiosity piqued.

"You wish the United States to be left vulnerable to the British?" Dane remarked.

"They would not dare to attack!"

They do, Tess thought, in 1812.

Dane smiled indulgently at the young officer, wiping his lips, then tossing the napkin on his plate. "We are a young country, Mr. Fleming, with a government that is but a babe, hardly knowing how to crawl."

"Yet on the subject of the militia, Captain, you wish us to run with the likes of England and France and-"

"We can," Ram put in. "Have we all not proven 'tis so?" Murmurs of agreement sounded around the 196.

table.

"I agree." All heads turned toward Tess, expressions of pure astonishment marking their faces.

"I beg your pardon, m'lady?" Fleming said, obviously annoyed at her intrusion.

Tess looked around at the poorly hidden lack of respect for her opinion. She leaned forward, ready to give them a small lesson in equal rights. "I agreed with Da-Captain Blackwell, If other world powers see us as easy to conquer, our ports unprotected, then we are vulnerable to attack. But if we strengthen our Navy and Marines to match or better them, then countries will understand that we mean business and will think again before they decide to invade."

There was a sudden silence, and at the far end of the table Dane looked at her through lowered lashes, admiring her tenacity to join in such a conversation she had no business entering. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on folded hands.

"And what, pray tell, do you propose we do about the situation, Lady Renfrew?"

Tess ignored his condescending tone and took a deep breath, gearing her thinking back two hundred years. "Exactly as the Const.i.tution states."

A raven black brow rose. "You've read the doc.u.ment?"

"Yeah, want me to recite the Preamble?" she shot back and Dane's lips twitched, realizing 'twas likely she could. "It says the government will provide and maintain a Navy." But they don't, she recalled suddenly, not for a few more years.

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"The Const.i.tution allows Congress to raise and support armies, yet those monies shall be approved for no longer than two years," Dane countered, rising from his seat and moving to the hutch.

"I'm aware of that," she said, watching as he poured several brandies, then shaking her head when he offered her one. "But what happens if we need them for longer than that? I think we should finance an army and a fleet of ships on a full-time basis."

Dane whispered something to a sailor about to leave with a tray.

"Why not simply call for volunteers when the need arises?" someone interjected. "Our freedom from the Crown is proof that it works."

"True, Mr. Cambert, but if every able man leaves, then who is left to work the farms, produce food, clothing, gunpowder, and mine metals needed to outfit the men on the front lines?" There was a silent pause as the obvious sunk in. "We are not self-sufficient. Can we afford another Valley Forge?"

Men shook their heads gravely.

Dane dropped lazily into his chair, absently toying with the delicate stem of crystal, and said, "You cannot expect businessmen to give their goods freely. Where will the monies to pay for the forces come from?"

Heads shifted to see how she'd answer. "A small tax on the sale of goods in the United States and taxing goods entering our ports should boost the treasury." " Tis exactly as the British had done!" Cambert 198.

sneered.

"No." Tess leaned forward, unaware of the little man entering the cabin. "They tried to tax and starve us to death, to control us, and our troops proved they couldn't. Not flowery speeches and dumping some tea. We owe it to ourselves not let lack of funds'destroy what all those guys died for." She shook her head, thinking of how many wars would still come. "A government can't run on promises you know. Supporting our Congress and the President isn't enough. Taxing ourselves is the answer."

"You truly believe in a salaried militia?" Dane asked, thinking of the same discussion he'd had several months past.

"Sure. You wouldn't use say-a-a blacksmith's services without paying him, would you?" She didn't wait for a response. "Paying for the protection of that freedom means a professionally trained, well-outfitted military. Not to mention the advantage that readiness allows." That brought grudging nods. "I know I'd sleep better knowing the seas were patrolled, the sh.o.r.es protected." There was a strange look in Dane's eyes that Tess couldn't fathom just then.

"A point well made, Lady Renfrew," Ramsey commended, casting a quick conspiratorial glance at Dane.

Gaelen shook his head, properly stunned. "I admit 'tis the first occasion I've heard of a woman expressing such views, m'lady, especially such an interest in her country's defense."

"Have you ever bothered to ask a woman her 199.

opinion, Mr. Thorpe?"