Daughter of the God-King(30)

He nodded, as though she had told him something of mild interest, and dabbed at his lip again. When next he spoke, the French accent was back in place as though it had never been gone. “You had best go below. Be certain to lock your door and do not wander about.”

“Then do you believe there are more?” she asked in alarm. “Promise me you will be careful.”

“I am always careful—now go.”

Annoyed that he was annoyed, she retorted, “Fine,” and turned to leave with a flounce, only to ruin the effect by stumbling over the wooden block.

Grasping her arm so as to steady her, he did not relinquish his hold but instead propelled her against the mizzenmast, the wood hard against her back as he pinned her with an arm around her waist. Lifting her face with his other hand, he kissed her.

Hattie had never kissed a man—indeed had never been held so, even by her father. She felt an almost paralyzing sense of exhilaration and wished she knew what she was supposed to do as it seemed clear he knew exactly what to do. As if reading her mind, he found her hands with his and pulled them up around his neck, then his arms went tightly around her waist and he was kissing her rather roughly, pressing against her in an intimate way that should have alarmed her but definitely did not.

Clinging to his neck, she responded to the movement of his mouth against hers in a way she hoped was pleasing and that certainly seemed to provoke a heated reaction. He gently pulled at her jaw so that her mouth opened, and then his tongue was touching hers and she heard a moaning sound, which she realized, with some surprise, was emanating from herself. His hand moved over her, pressing a palm gently against a breast and then drawing down over her hip to pull her even closer. I have to stop this, she thought in a haze—but not just yet.

Voices could be heard from the stern of the ship, and with some reluctance he released her. As her knees were now weak, she teetered a bit, and he steadied her with his hands at her waist for a moment, his gaze enigmatic in the moonlight while the vessel rocked in its progress through the boundless sea

“Go—quickly.”

Hattie obeyed without demur, hoping no one observed her retreat although she could always claim to have wanted a breath of fresh air—and truth to tell, she needed one just now. Filling her lungs, she quietly unlocked her cabin and slipped through the door, glancing to make certain Bing still slept on her berth. After turning down the lamp she quietly prepared for bed in the dim light, thanking heaven for the captain’s concoction—it seemed Bing would continue to slumber peacefully without any awareness that her charge first had been brawling and then committing improprieties on deck.

After she settled into her berth, Hattie didn’t know what to think about first. Well, actually she did—but she needed to think about that later. Berry was not French. She decided she was not very surprised by this revelation; she already knew he was not whom he seemed and was only posing as her parents’ agent. There had been an enemy on board, presumably the one who had searched through her things as Berry had already taken a turn and had come up empty. Hattie fingered the golden disk on its chain around her neck. Was the captain also an enemy? She was not certain—he and Berry did not interact to any extent so it was difficult to judge. And although Berry could certainly kiss—and then some—she truly did not know whether he was, in fact, her enemy. It did seem as though he held a sincere affection for her, particularly because he had resisted it until now. Therefore, if he was bent on seduction as a means to discover her secrets, he was a very reluctant seducer. But in any event, it was clear he was not who he pretended to be, and she must have a care.

The more important question, it seemed, was why everyone was so very interested. Berry—if that was indeed his name—had hinted at a reason; with her parents’ whereabouts unknown she suddenly and unexpectedly held authority over their effects, and those effects presumably were worth a fortune. But then why the interest in the disk, and in the elusive strongbox?

Fingering the coverlet, she knit her brow and thought about it. Her parents had a secret, or something that was not readily discoverable. Something that was very valuable—so valuable that people were willing to kill for it. Hattie had little doubt that the deaths were all connected in some way—and Berry had admitted these were dangerous people, whoever they were. He knew, but he didn’t want to tell her. Indeed, Robbie had dropped hints to the same effect, but he didn’t want to tell her, either.

And in a strange twist, no one ever had paid much attention to her but now every man jack she met was bent on beguiling her, although Berry’s approach just now was much more direct. She couldn’t suppress a delighted smile in the darkness, feeling a frisson run through her entire body at the blissful memory—she felt as though she had tasted a very potent drug and craved more of the same. For two pins, she thought, I would make an utter fool of myself and I mustn’t—I must find out what is at stake, and why the disk is so important to whatever is at stake. There seems little chance that Berry will tell me, and I have to fight my inclination to trust him completely.