The Captain of All Pleasures (Sutherland Brothers #1)(47)
Author: Kresley Cole

She tilted her head and tapped her finger on one cheek. “Hmmm, I’ve heard that can happen to one if one were, say a drunk . But I suppose that in your case”—she paused, looking him over—“it could beage related.”

For the rest of the morning, Nicole replayed her exchange with Sutherland. She’d boldly told him there could be no doubt that it was he who’d sunk her ship. Now, uncertainty was all she felt. He wouldn’t maintain his innocence for this long if he was guilty. A man with his disregard for well, everything, would simply own up to it. Plus, he’d wanted to believe that Tallywood had been a main suspect. It was as if Sutherland wanted to know he wouldn’t immediately be connected to any treachery in their sailing community. If he’d done it, he wouldn’t be tempted to believe her.

If his sad determination that he’d be accused first swayed her, then his undiminished animosity toward her convinced her. He really thought she’d poisoned his crew. She’d been certain he’d sunk her ship. Now she concluded someone else had hurt them both. She felt a twinge of guilt over her insults that morning, but pushed it away.

So he hadn’t sunk her ship—one less thing she could hate him for. And it was hard to hold his treatment of her against him when he believed she’d poisoned his men. But she could still despise him for jailing her crew at the Cape.

There was nothing for her to do but bide her time. Her injuries had healed, and he knew it. So far she hadn’t pressed about wanting to go topside, but after the storm they’d just sailed through, she really would get sick if she couldn’t go out soon.

When he came to the cabin at noontime, she was dressed in her own clothes and pacing.

“Captain Sutherland? May I speak with you?” She could be polite when it suited her.

He sank down on the edge of the bunk and pulled off his boots. He was soaked through and looked done in. “What do you want?” His tone was short of civil.

Lord, he was burned by her comments that morning. Captain Sutherland had some chinks in his armor. She tucked that information away for later use.

“I was hoping that you would be gracious enough to escort me to the deck today, since the storm has finally broken.”

“No,” he said without even pausing to consider it.

“No? Just like that?” she cried.

“Yes.”

Her face burned from holding in the bitter words she was dying to say. She couldn’t do it. Not another day down here. “Sutherland please.”

Ignoring her, he walked to his chest and pulled out dry clothes. He threw them on the bed and began drawing his wet shirt over his head. She dragged her gaze from that wide expanse of damp chest. Sutherland was a cruel, arrogant boor; so why did the sight of his body still affect her?

She averted her face so she could speak steadily. “I would ask you to reconsider. It’s bordering on inhumane to keep me down here.”

When he continued dressing and said nothing, she turned to him again, and couldn’t say if she was disappointed or relieved to see he’d already changed his pants.

As per her plan, if he was unresponsive, she’d just have to lie. Collapsing into a chair, she raised a hand to her head. “I think that the lack of fresh air and sunlight is making the headaches come back.”

For a second, she thought he looked concerned.

“Is that so?”

Damn, why did he sound like he didn’t believe her? “Yes, I’m afraid it is. Please, just an hour a day. I can work. I can pull my own load.”

“We don’t need anyone to cook or sew for us. And we have someone who launders. You are useless to me.”

“Useless? Useless? You only named the chores that women usually do on shore. Is that all you think I’m capable of?”

“I know lots of things you’re capable of,” he sneered.

That bastard!

When he stood up to leave, having obviously finished this conversation, her anger deflated. The thought of another day cooped up in his cabin made her want to cry.

She finally found her tongue when he was halfway out the door.

“But what am I to do all day?” she asked in a small, lame voice.

“I don’t bloody well care what you do.”

When she heard the click of the door lock, her misery once again yielded to fury. Every chantey the crew sang and every tack the ship made only provoked her more. It wasn’t natural to be locked down here, especially for something she didn’t do. By God, now she wanted to poison him!

She searched the cabin but couldn’t find anything that she’d be willing to break or disfigure. Truthfully, it went against her nature to be destructive. She preferred to create .

An idea surfaced. Her eyes flitted toward her sea chest, the same chest Sutherland had avoided as though it had teeth. Here, right within her grasp, was her revenge. He would regret his treatment of her. And after she’d finished, he’d never be able to forget her.

“Captain Sutherland?” Bigsby inquired with a frown when he stalked to the deck.

“What do you want?”

The man looked pointedly behind Derek. “I had hoped Miss Lassiter would be with you, since the weather’s turned so fair.”

“She’s not.” Derek made his way in the opposite direction.

Bigsby followed. “Oh. How has she been feeling? Any headaches?”

Derek’s brows drew together. She had obviously been lying about the headaches. Hadn’t she? Of course. She was a pitiful actress. Still “Why do you ask about headaches?”

“I have always expressed worry about the blow to the head she sustained.”

“No headaches.”

“Oh, very well. Would you tell her I’m very pleased she’s feeling better?”

Bigsby’s overweening kindness almost made Derek regret his harsh manner with her. At the time, he’d thought her underhanded lying should be expected from a woman devious by nature. Yet after considering her situation, he admitted that he probably would’ve been driven to do the same thing.

Contrary to what most people thought, he wasn’t a cruel man by nature. He turned to go to his cabin to check on her.

“Cap’n! Ship ahoy. Looks to be a homeward-bound English ship. Mail packet. They’re signaling to ‘speak us.’ ”

Derek hesitated. He was anxious to get information about the race and barter for supplies, and reasoned Nicole would be fine in the cabin for a few hours more. When they sailed in closer, he accepted the captain’s invitation to row over and visit with him and his wife.

Once he was on board, the jovial, loquacious couple broke out a bottle of fine French claret and insisted repeatedly that he join them for dinner. He agreed, because the breeze that evening was light, and they wouldn’t lose any time. More important, he would grasp at anything to get his mind off the woman he had locked up in his cabin.

Even so, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. After several hours, he’d finally managed politely to leave the neighboring ship. The claret he’d hoped would numb some of his guilt and anger toward her had only served to get him semidrunk.