The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-

Chapter Twenty

Arianna found herself frozen against the now closed door of the captain’s cabin. The Captain wore nothing but a pair of breeches, and Arianna found she could not move, could not have spoken had she wanted to. His bare back was presented to her, is skin a rich sun kissed gold covering taut, rigid muscles. She watched the play of muscles in his back as he moved back to the razor and washstand he had obviously been using before he swept her into is his cabin with an arm about her waist. In the mirror above the washstand she could his smooth defined chest and abdomen. Warmth and a nervous curiosity grew inside her and she glanced down to survey the state of her tray only to find her outstretched arms empty. She quickly spotted the tray resting upon the table with everything in place. Lowering her arms self-consciously, Arianna glanced back to Derek to find him removing the last traces of his shaving lather with a towel. Placing the towel back upon the wash stand he closed the distance between them. Arianna drew in a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Derek’s as he placed a hand upon the door just above her shoulder.

“Do you blush for me, my sultry little cabin boy, or do you blush for the mischief you have caused?” His free hand traced her jaw line beginning at the hairline of her burning cheeks, down around to her chin.

“Mischief?” Arianna asked, her hand lifted to rest against his chest to keep some distance between them, but even that contact betrayed her as the steady beating of his heart under her palm and his warm skin seemed to intensify the heat she felt in herself and set her own heart to beat at a frenzied pace.

“Aye, mischief.” His eyes dropped to her lips and Arianna self-consciously pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Drake closed the distance between them and set his lips sweetly against hers for a moment before they began to move. Arianna gasped as she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips and he claimed the opportunity presented him, his tongue slipping into her mouth to search out her own before withdrawing again. He looked down into her eyes momentarily noting the war between surprise and passion warring within her eyes. With a slight grin his hand moved into her hair at the base of her neck and tilted her head up to him, his lips forming over hers once more as he kissed her thoroughly. Arianna’s eyes slipped closed as her hands raised to rest upon his shoulders. His kiss was insistent, demanding, and all consuming, and Arianna wanted nothing more than to surrender to it. It stole her poise, her will, and ignited passions she had never known existed within her. Her tongue darted out to meet his and she heard a low growl resonate from him as his free arm encircled her waist and pulled her against him. Her bound breasts pressed against his chest and one arm left his chest to encircle his neck as he turned slightly with her in his arms and fit her even closer against his body, her head resting in his hand against his shoulder.

A sigh escaped her as his mouth left hers to trace across her cheek and down the column of her throat. She felt his tongue draw her ear lobe between his teeth and his warm breath sent a wave of goose flesh down her neck that did not stop until it reached her toes.

“Aye, mischief.” He whispered close to her ear, slightly loosening his hold upon her until he could lean back to stare into her warm emerald eyes, “Your tormenting of Miss Bridger must end, Arianna.”

“My what?” Arianna asked pressing her eyes closed tightly for a moment to draw herself out from the spell of his kiss.

“How is it that there are hairs and insects in my guest’s food? And how is it that my cabin boys are adequate enough to supply warm bathing water to all of my guests, save one? Especially when the cabins other occupant has issued no such complaints?” He was scowling now and stalked a few steps away from her, his eyes never leaving hers. “You are making a mockery of my hospitality woman and I do not appreciate the smirch on my name.”

Arianna mentally cursed the strip of cloth that bound her breasts as she fought to draw in a full breath with the taste of his kiss upon her lips and his irritation with her plain to see. “Surely, Derek, you do not think that I…”

“Oh, but I do, Rian. I think you are solely responsible. Was it not you who spilled rum down the poor girl’s dress at your own wake?”

Arianna nodded distractedly as her attention had slipped once more to his naked torso. He watched as her hand lifted from her side, only to be caught by her other hand before she touched him. She lifted vulnerable and confused eyes to his, eyes full of a passion he knew she did not understand, and those twin pools of molten emerald desire stirred him no small degree.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to snatch her in here when he was not dressed, though truthfully, initially at least, the thought had not crossed his mind before he had acted upon it.

His hand raised and touched her cheek. Those warm pools closed halfway as she leaned into his touch, his other hand snaked about her waist as he pulled her to him once more. He lifted her face and found her lips parted slightly as she lifted her gaze to his once more. His lips molded to hers and he drank in the heady nectar of her response.

She was warm and pliant in his arms, all woman. He felt her hands slip up around his shoulders before they wandered down to explore the ridges and valleys of his chest, an appreciative shudder ran through his body and he pulled her closer still. Arianna moved against him and Derek knew he could continue no longer despite how much he wanted to. Leaning back slightly he slowed the kiss before pulling away completely.

“Arianna,” he watched as her languid eyes opened and focused on his, “These petty acts against Miss Bridger need to cease.”

Arianna was still breathing heavily, but the soft warm desire in her eyes hardened and cooled with the rise of her temper.

“You have no proof that Miss Bridger’s ill fortune is my fault, captain.”

“Nay?” Derek fired back, moving away from her to his wardrobe behind his dressing screen, “Then how do you explain the two-foot-long black hair in her soup?”

“’Twas the chore cook gave me! It was not intentional if, while making the soup, a strand of my hair ended up in it.”

“Am I honestly supposed to believe that? Was it magic that ensured that it was only in her serving?”

Arianna bit the corner of her lip in an attempt to keep her amusement from her voice. “I might say luck rather than magic, my lord.”

Derek began to lecture her from behind the dressing screen but Arianna did not wait to hear him out. She took the memory of his kisses and slipped from his cabin with her tray.


******

"Are you listening?" Derek came out from behind the screen and found his cabin empty. He smiled and shook his head, she could run but she could not hide. He thought back on their kiss and realized he was a lucky man. Soon she would be his wife, he could allow his towel to simply fall to the floor as he led her to his bunk, where she would be most responsive.

He attempted to turn the direction of his thoughts, but his angel would not leave them. Let us just say that the man I marry will gain something money can not buy. Her words echoed in his mind. He locked his cabin door, before he moved to his desk and unlocked the drawers. He found his betrothal contract and began to skim through it.

A yearly allowance was to be paid to Marlborough. It was not a vast sum, but twas still an income a common man would be lucky to receive. He skimmed farther down the page. Three estates would come to him upon the wedding. One outside of Bath, another in Cornwall, and the last just outside of Kensington.

He turned the page and grew much more interested. The first paragraph cited the law and the clause the following terms were filed under. He skimmed farther still. Finally, there it was.. will become co-owner, with Lady Arianna, of Los Isla de Cabellete. The Isle of the Horses.

It was a small, but well known island in the Caribbean. It was a major stop on many trade routes. And his future wife owned it? He lit a cigar and tossed the thought around for a long while.

******
The dinner hour came once more, Miss Jolene Bridger was firmly seated in what should have been her father's chair, directly to the right of Derek. Arianna rolled her eyes, as she peeked through the glass of the swinging doors the other cabin boys would serve the guests through. That little trollop needed to learn her place once and for all.

Mickey picked up the bowls of soup from the countertop as cook set them down and made to move past her.

"I'll do yer dishes tonight if ya spill it on 'er." Arianna whispered as he passed. Mickey stopped, smiled, and then shook his head.

"The cap'n yelled at me earlier, Rian. He says I'll be doin' dishes fer a month if'n I helps ya mess wit' 'er."

"Then make it look like an' accide't, ya ninny."

Mickey grinned at her and moved through the doors. Arianna moved off to the hallways to put some distance between herself and the dining room. As she climbed to the deck she heard a feminine screech and stood by watching as Mrs. Bridger led her eldest daughter to her cabin a few moments later.

The girl was covered in splotches of soup from her hair to her hem. Her thick powder was running down her throat, staining the fabric of her bodice at the far too low neckline.

"Why me, mummy?" Arianna heard Jolene whine as she passed.

"I do not know, Jolene. Perhaps someone does not want you near the captain." Her mother answered.

"But who, mama?"

"Perhaps it is the cabin boys, Jolene. It seems your misfortune is always at their hands."

"Jessica thinks the dead girl cursed the captain, mama."

They stepped into their hallway and disappeared from sight, Mrs. Bridger's reply did not reach her ears. Arianna smothered a smile and made her way back to the kitchens to collect a tray for Betsy and herself.

******

Jessica Bridger watched as the cabin boy turned away and disappeared down the same hallway he had come from. There was something tickling at her mind, she did her best to capture the face before it faded from memory.

Once she was finished, she studied her drawing. The face was familiar, though she did not remember having even spoken to the boy before. Hmm.. Maybe I should keep investigating.