Mistress Below Deck. Helen Dickson

Mistress Below Deck - Helen  Dickson


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that any hope I may have had that you might succumb to my offer and marry me is a lost cause. It appeals to you to be Lady Tregowan, does it, Rowena?’

      Rowena stared at him dispassionately. Her longing to sneer was overwhelming. It was his smug, conceited expression she hated most. How she yearned to set him in his place. ‘I am sure Lord Tregowan is kind and polite—’

      ‘And hardly the sort a beautiful young woman would want to be married to, to spend the rest of her life with, in a draughty old house. But if you are to marry him, then may your union be long and fruitful.’ His chuckle sounded low and deep when Rowena’s colour heightened on being reminded of the intimacies she would have to endure to bring about this fruitful result. ‘Married to you, Lord Tregowan might never wish to leave Cornwall again.’ He saw the flash of fire in the blue-green depths, but went on undeterred. ‘Despite our unfortunate encounters, Rowena, would you not find my company more to your liking than that of a stranger?’

      ‘He won’t always be a stranger to me—and will you please stop trying to proposition me.’

      ‘I’m only trying to convince you of my merits, Rowena.’

      She tossed her head haughtily. ‘Then don’t try. It would be a complete waste of time. How conceited of you to think you are better than Lord Tregowan—although I would expect nothing less from you.’

      ‘One thing I will say to you, Rowena, is that you would never be bored with me.’

      ‘And what exactly would you want from me?’ she queried with icy sarcasm, gentling her mare as it shifted restlessly beneath her.

      Tobias disregarded the sardonic edge to her voice, his expression almost leering as his eyes ran appreciatively over the soft swell of her breasts inside its green velvet, and the long column of her slender neck, the bright flame of her lips.

      ‘That question could be settled with no discussion at all,’ he murmured softly, ‘and conversation is not what I have in mind.’

      Rowena gasped and felt a scalding heat creeping over her. His words, though spoken in hushed tones, tore through her with more force than all her father’s blustering demands could ever do. ‘How dare you?’ she hissed, lifting her slim nose to a lofty angle, her eyes dark and dangerous. ‘You are insolent, Mr Searle, and you have a propensity to say things that go beyond the bounds of proper behaviour.’

      His eyes glowed in the warm light of the sun as he gave her a lazy smile. ‘Your endearments intrigue me, Rowena—but why so hostile towards me? What is it in me that arouses this anger, this dislike you have of me? Your father owes me, that I freely admit, but I am no black-hearted villain.’

      ‘I would hardly expect you to admit it if you were,’ she retorted crisply.

      ‘I am a fairly honest man in my dealings with others. I have offered you no injury, not ever, and nor will I. Rather the opposite. I admire a woman who knows what she wants and goes directly for it, whatever the consequences, and you really are a lovely woman, Rowena. We could be splendid together, you and I, well matched, if you take my meaning, so I am at a loss as to why you seem to find me so objectionable.’ He was still smiling, nudging his horse forward until it was alongside her own.

      Rowena drew herself up to her full height and pulled her horse back, as though to ward him off, as though he was about to make some physical attack of her, and the look she gave Tobias Searle was one of icy disdain. ‘I want nothing from you in any way. I would sooner starve and see my family homeless than have anything to do with the likes of you.’

      He laughed low in his throat and in one effortless motion he reached out and, finding her waist, drew her close, their horses coming together as though in collusion. ‘Shall I show you how thinly veiled your insults are, Rowena? Shall I show you what it is like to be kissed by a real man?’

      His taunting grin and the strength of his arms made her realise the folly of baiting him. ‘Kindly let go of me,’ she demanded, struggling to free herself, but she was held in an unyielding vice and there was no getting away.

      In the next instant his head had descended to hers and his lips had found their target. Rowena’s world careened crazily. His mouth was insistent, demanding, relentless. She drew a sharp breath to scream her outrage, but his mouth smothered her outcry. Her head whirled and she struggled against the intoxication of his kiss.

      Tobias’s lips moved warmly, strongly, until he felt hers soften beneath his own and she ceased to struggle, her mouth forced to open beneath his mounting ardour. When it, did his tongue slipped between her lips and within to taste leisurely the full sweetness of her mouth. She had never experienced anything quite like that first kiss, feeling a hot sweetness flow through her body, and her mouth clung desperately, honey sweet and swollen. He was devouring her lips in a searing flame that shot through her like a rocket.

      Tobias dragged his mouth from hers, feeling her breath warm on his cheek as he found the tender place beneath her ear, and the hot desire that almost had her toppling from her horse, and which might have been stopped, flowed madly through her. Again he found her lips and her senses erupted in a ball of flame that almost consumed her. The warmth spread until her skin seemed to glow and her sanity argued against the madness. She should have found his kiss repulsive, but in truth it was wildly exciting. Then his hand rose and caressed the swell of her breast, and her breath caught as she felt him bring her nipple to a taut peak.

      With outraged modesty she surfaced from the pleasurable state into which he had sent her and pushed him away, gasping for breath. Holding a hand over her throbbing breast, she could only glare at him, but she could say nothing that could wipe the look of wonder from her face, nor stop the wild, chaotic beating of her heart.

      With a soft chuckle Tobias urged his horse away. ‘Don’t look so indignant, Rowena. You were made for kissing, and I doubt after that you will be satisfied with your ancient suitor. Face the truth of what I’ve said.’

      ‘A pox on you,’ she hissed. ‘If you try anything like that again I swear I’ll kill you. Go away. I want nothing to do with you. Just as soon as I am wed to Lord Tregowan I shall see my father’s debt to you is paid in full, and then you can go to the devil for all I care.’

      Tobias’s grin broadened to reveal his strong white teeth. He bowed his head. ‘As you wish, Rowena. I will be on my way. But you will not be rid of me entirely.’

      ‘Oh, I shall, Mr Searle. You can be assured of that.’ The words could scarcely get beyond her gritted teeth, so tightly was her jaw clenched. With a toss of her head she urged her horse on, galloping away without a backward glance.

      Tobias watched her go, the smile melting from his lips and being replaced by a serious frown. Rowena’s voice had been steady but beneath it was a splinter of steel. Tobias felt his heart move with a mixture of pity and admiration for her. He did not doubt for one minute that she was aware of every one of her father’s failings, but on their previous encounter, to her credit, she had defended him. She had become everything her family needed to sustain their tenuous hold on what they had left. Most would have thought that it was enough for any woman, but, judging by her steely manner, she was not one to shirk her duties.

      He could not believe that one naïve Cornish girl could possess so much spirit, so much courage, so much grit. He tried to tell himself that it was just lust she had stirred in him when he had first seen her at the ball, that being too long at sea and deprived of the company of a beautiful woman meant any would do. But that did not explain this growing fascination—this obsession—that held him in thrall to Rowena Golding.

      When news of the attack by corsairs on the Petrel and the capture of everyone on board reached Falmouth, it caused outrage and horror. Yet the seizure of these people was neither unique nor unusual. For more than a century these attacks had been rife, and the trade in white slaves from across Europe destroyed families and wrecked innocent lives.

      When Rowena was told, the messenger had to repeat it twice before it sank in and she could only stand there, staring at him in horror and disbelief, and then she understood, and what he said made everything else seem insignificant.


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