Read Online Too Great a Temptation by Alexandra Benedict - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alexandra Benedict
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James.
“No, no.” Quincy gestured with his hand. “Nothing like that.”
The captain, too, moved toward the youngest Hawkins, until all three men had circled his chair. “Quincy, if you spoke with Damian, you must have assumed something was wrong.”
“Well, yes, but I overreacted.” Glancing at each of his hovering brothers, Quincy resumed his narrative. “You see, Damian had a lot of questions about Belle and I suspected he was smitten with her. It wasn’t true, though. He was just curious to know why a woman was aboard ship. He wants nothing to do with Belle, he assured me. He doesn’t find her the least bit interesting.”
The men in the room all puffed a sigh of relief, but Mirabelle felt as though she’d been smacked in the face.
“And you’re sure about this?” said James.
“Aye.” Quincy nodded. “Damian bolted when I suggested he either do right by Belle and marry her or leave her be.”
It was a sturdy punch to her gut, his words. Quincy had tried to marry her off? She didn’t know what was worse, that he would do such an unseemly thing or that the boorish navigator didn’t want her.
“Now, Belle,” said William, the first to notice her crimson complexion. “Quincy didn’t mean to upset you.”
The fledgling of the family finally glanced her way, his expression contrite, his tone placating. “I didn’t, Belle, really. I was just looking out for you.”
“That’s the very reason you shouldn’t be here,” grumbled Edmund, his temper mellow. “You’re a distraction to the crew, Belle.”
“And while you haven’t charmed Damian,” James went on to point out, “you might very well charm another sailor.” He sighed at that point. “I just can’t have you on board, Belle. You’re too damn beautiful for your own good.”
She was on her feet and marching toward the door, the humiliation suffocating. So Damian didn’t want anything to do with her? Not that she craved his attention. Certainly not. But still, all those fiery looks were nothing more than expressions of curiosity? He thought her odd ? What a fool she was!
“Belle!” Quincy wailed, as she thundered past him.
But William rested his hand on Quincy’s shoulder, stopping the entreaty.
The brothers let her go.
Tears pooling, Mirabelle let them gather. She didn’t even wipe them away when they dripped down her flushed cheeks.
Too beautiful, was she? What rot! But if her infuriating brethren believed it so, she could fix that. In a few minutes she would be as ordinary and unattractive as any poor and weathered tar aboard ship.
Bursting into the captain’s cabin, she lit the oil lamp suspended on the wall and set to work. First she headed for the table, tossing aside the papers and nautical charts. Nothing. Her wet gaze then lit on the wooden chest at the foot of James’s bed. She tore through the clutter of clothing, looking for the knife she knew her brother kept hidden somewhere in his cabin.
The knife was a gift to James from their father. It had a decorative ivory handle and a long, glossy, five-inch blade—a sharp blade.
The lid crashed closed. Still nothing. The bed was next. Crouching on her knees, she groped under the prickly straw mattress.
Aha!
Fingers circling the sheath, she yanked the knife free. For a moment she cradled the weapon, tracing her finger along the intricate carving. The scene depicted wild animals in the jungle. It was a priceless souvenir, the knife. One her father had obtained while stationed in India, long before he ever became a pirate.
Slowly, she pulled the blade from its sheath. The metal glinted in the fiery light and she blinked at the glare.
Mirabelle walked over to the captain’s shaving mirror, peering into the murky glass. Shadows masked her face, but there was still enough light to go about her task.
Too charming, was she? Not anymore.
Grabbing a clump of her long and treasured hair, she lifted the knife to her scalp and cut.
The knife, wrenched from her
“No, no.” Quincy gestured with his hand. “Nothing like that.”
The captain, too, moved toward the youngest Hawkins, until all three men had circled his chair. “Quincy, if you spoke with Damian, you must have assumed something was wrong.”
“Well, yes, but I overreacted.” Glancing at each of his hovering brothers, Quincy resumed his narrative. “You see, Damian had a lot of questions about Belle and I suspected he was smitten with her. It wasn’t true, though. He was just curious to know why a woman was aboard ship. He wants nothing to do with Belle, he assured me. He doesn’t find her the least bit interesting.”
The men in the room all puffed a sigh of relief, but Mirabelle felt as though she’d been smacked in the face.
“And you’re sure about this?” said James.
“Aye.” Quincy nodded. “Damian bolted when I suggested he either do right by Belle and marry her or leave her be.”
It was a sturdy punch to her gut, his words. Quincy had tried to marry her off? She didn’t know what was worse, that he would do such an unseemly thing or that the boorish navigator didn’t want her.
“Now, Belle,” said William, the first to notice her crimson complexion. “Quincy didn’t mean to upset you.”
The fledgling of the family finally glanced her way, his expression contrite, his tone placating. “I didn’t, Belle, really. I was just looking out for you.”
“That’s the very reason you shouldn’t be here,” grumbled Edmund, his temper mellow. “You’re a distraction to the crew, Belle.”
“And while you haven’t charmed Damian,” James went on to point out, “you might very well charm another sailor.” He sighed at that point. “I just can’t have you on board, Belle. You’re too damn beautiful for your own good.”
She was on her feet and marching toward the door, the humiliation suffocating. So Damian didn’t want anything to do with her? Not that she craved his attention. Certainly not. But still, all those fiery looks were nothing more than expressions of curiosity? He thought her odd ? What a fool she was!
“Belle!” Quincy wailed, as she thundered past him.
But William rested his hand on Quincy’s shoulder, stopping the entreaty.
The brothers let her go.
Tears pooling, Mirabelle let them gather. She didn’t even wipe them away when they dripped down her flushed cheeks.
Too beautiful, was she? What rot! But if her infuriating brethren believed it so, she could fix that. In a few minutes she would be as ordinary and unattractive as any poor and weathered tar aboard ship.
Bursting into the captain’s cabin, she lit the oil lamp suspended on the wall and set to work. First she headed for the table, tossing aside the papers and nautical charts. Nothing. Her wet gaze then lit on the wooden chest at the foot of James’s bed. She tore through the clutter of clothing, looking for the knife she knew her brother kept hidden somewhere in his cabin.
The knife was a gift to James from their father. It had a decorative ivory handle and a long, glossy, five-inch blade—a sharp blade.
The lid crashed closed. Still nothing. The bed was next. Crouching on her knees, she groped under the prickly straw mattress.
Aha!
Fingers circling the sheath, she yanked the knife free. For a moment she cradled the weapon, tracing her finger along the intricate carving. The scene depicted wild animals in the jungle. It was a priceless souvenir, the knife. One her father had obtained while stationed in India, long before he ever became a pirate.
Slowly, she pulled the blade from its sheath. The metal glinted in the fiery light and she blinked at the glare.
Mirabelle walked over to the captain’s shaving mirror, peering into the murky glass. Shadows masked her face, but there was still enough light to go about her task.
Too charming, was she? Not anymore.
Grabbing a clump of her long and treasured hair, she lifted the knife to her scalp and cut.
The knife, wrenched from her
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