Chapter 43

"I 'VE NOTICED IT, YOU KNOW," Margery said in a sage tone. The older woman had been let out of her cabin about the same time Gabrielle had gained her own freedom.

"Noticed what?" Gabrielle asked.

"How happy you've been recently."

Gabrielle was standing next to her friend near the bow of the ship. They were watching a rather large moon making an appearance on the horizon. It was one of the more beautiful things the ocean offered on a clear night, bright moonlight reflected on its waves. She almost wished Drew were standing with her instead. Almost.

"Happy?" Gabrielle replied with a slight frown. "I won't be happy until my father is freed."

"Well, of course," Margery said. "That goes without saying. But I think you're liking the captain more'n you let on, aren't you?"

Gabrielle grinned now in answer. She couldn't very well deny that anymore, or at least she couldn't deny she liked making mad, passionate love with him. Drew, unprovoked, at his most charming, was devastating to a girl's senses. And he hadn't been provoked for a while now. And he'd definitely been at his most charming.

"Have you and he…"

Margery couldn't bring herself to elaborate, even as outspoken as she usually was, but Gabrielle got the point easily enough, since it was a subject often on her mind. She didn't even blush when she replied, "Yes."

"I was afraid of that," Margery said with a disappointed sigh.

Gabrielle noted the disapproval but didn't take it to heart. It was expected. While Margery didn't adhere to the proper way of doing things herself and had had many lovers over the years, she took her role as chaperone seriously and wanted only the best for Gabrielle. But life had its little curves and this was one of them.

"I thought the first time was a dream," Gabrielle admitted, and at Margery's doubtful look she laughed and said, "No, really. And I can't deny it was the nicest dream I'd ever had."

Margery rolled her eyes, but then her mind went off on a different track and she asked with a suspicious frown, "This isn't part of your revenge, is it?"

"No, I'm done with that. He and I finally talked about it, and he admitted he didn't intentionally stir up the scandal. And he's making amends for it, by helping with Papa's rescue, and also by not throwing me in jail for stealing his ship. Besides, you know very well I didn't really want to settle down in England when I consider the islands my home. England was Papa's idea, not mine, and even so, I don't think it really mattered to him. He was thinking of my mother, because it's what she would have wanted for me. So Drew kind of did me a favor in ruining my chances for a match there."

Margery snorted. "No one but you would see it that way now. But why did you get so angry about it to begin with, then, if you felt he did you a good turn?"

"Because that isn't what I thought a'tall. Not then, anyway. I thought he'd made that remark deliberately, which made it a direct attack against me, and a nasty one at that. That was deserving of revenge, especially since he was sailing off and leaving me there to sink in that scandal. But he didn't even know his remark made the gossip rounds."

"Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again, that anger wasn't doing you any good, so I'm glad you've given it up."

"So am I," Gabrielle agreed, and it was the truth. Not being angry and not fighting with that man had some really nice benefits.

She and Drew had sort of an unspoken truce, ever since that day she tossed half the contents of his desk at him. Neither of them said anything of the wrongs they'd done each other. And the truce had a profound effect on her. She felt so bubbly inside she might have called it happy, if she could think of a reason why she should be happy. She couldn't. Except, well…

"He asked me to marry him."

"Well, good, at least I won't have to draw and quarter him now for taking advantage of you."

"I think I refused," Gabrielle was forced to admit. "I'm not really sure, though."

She remembered that night clearly. It was over a week ago, the same day they'd had their last fight, before their truce began. And it had definitely been an odd proposal. He'd gone from "doing the honorable thing" in asking, to getting upset when she accepted, to getting even more upset when she changed her mind and refused instead. And then he'd finished off by leaving her in doubt as to whether they were engaged. He was holding her to it? That's what he'd said. But he'd said it in a moment of anger, so he probably didn't mean it.

Unfortunately, Margery wasn't going to let her off after a remark like that and demanded, "What do you mean, you aren't sure?"

Gabrielle tried to shrug it off by saying, "I accepted, then changed my mind, but it sounded like he's going to hold me to my first answer."

"Good for him and fie on you for refusing," Margery huffed, then said, "At least marry him for propriety's sake. If you want to divorce him later, fine, just make sure you aren't having any babies first."

Now Gabrielle blushed. She tended to be outspoken herself, but Margery always won hands down in that department.

And why hadn't she thought about babies as a natural consequence of enjoying herself in Drew's bed? Because not once had she thought that far ahead, and besides, if she had stopped to think about what she was doing, she knew damn well she would have stopped doing it.

She'd been sleeping with him every night since their truce started. She hadn't asked permission. He hadn't invited her. She'd just gotten into his bed each night without thinking, as if she belonged there. And they'd made love every one of those nights. That's what she didn't want halted with too much introspection. The voyage was going to end soon enough, in a matter of days. They were already passing through Caribbean waters. So was it too much to ask, to have just a little sensual bliss uninterrupted by reality?

But a baby? Good grief, she really should have considered that. And the thought had her picturing herself holding a little Drew in her arms. He'd be the most beautiful baby ever created, she thought as she felt her heart skip a beat. The baby was not even born, and most likely not even conceived, and she already loved the child! What the deuce was wrong with her?

"Pretty moon, isn't it?"

Gabrielle jumped, startled by Drew's sudden presence beside them. Margery mumbled something about getting to bed and left them alone. The moment she was gone, his arm slipped around Gabrielle's waist and drew her to his side.

It was the first time he was making a "public" display of affection. The only other time had been when he'd kissed her as they stood on the lower deck, which had been witnessed by all and sundry. It wasn't that there hadn't been ample opportunity, since she'd been spending most every day with him up on the quarterdeck. He'd even let her take the wheel for a while, after she'd convinced him she knew how.

But he was all business when he was up there, commanding his ship. Besides, he did mention one night that he didn't want his men yearning for port any sooner than was reasonable, that they got sloppy when they were rushing to end a voyage because they had women on their minds. She'd gotten the point.

"That's one of the prettier moons I've seen in a while. I often saw really big moons on the horizon, nice and full, in St. Kitts. We had some magnificent sunsets, too, right off of our beach."

"You lived on the beach?"

She nodded. "Papa has a small house on the coast, not too far from town."

"It sounds a bit too perfect. I'm surprised you wanted to leave it."

"I didn't," she said, and said no more.

He must have read the end-of-subject tone, because he didn't address it further and said instead, "I'd love to walk with you on a beach sometime, any beach as long as the weather is balmy."

Was he remembering that romantic fantasy she'd mentioned to him? "Chilly walks on the beach aren't bad," she pointed out. "I've done that before in England, when I was much younger."

"Possibly, but they won't allow for swimming naked with you in the water, and I really doubt you'll find any crystal-clear coves with coral reefs to explore along the English coasts."

He did remember! She glanced up at him with a grin. "You're probably right, though I never checked. I didn't even learn to swim until I moved to the Caribbean to be with Papa. He taught me."

His fingers grazed her cheek softly. "I'm jealous. I think that's something I would have loved teaching you."

She might have laughed if his tone hadn't turned so husky. She caught her breath instead and had to fight the urge to turn toward him and start kissing him. But she could feel his fingers in her hair. She'd lost her ribbon, so it was loose at the moment. He touched her so often! Half the time she didn't even think he was aware he was doing it. He just couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her.

To get her mind off of that, she asked, "Have you given any more thought to our plan of action once we make port?"

"Yes, before we sail to Lacross's stronghold, we're going to stop at Anguilla to find a woman with the same color hair as you, and reasonably the same shape, to make him think it's you on board my ship. Then I'll go in with the maps."

She glanced at him. "Wait a minute, are you implying that I'm not going to be there?"

"Not implying, stating a fact," he replied adamantly. "After what you've told me about this pirate, you aren't getting anywhere near him."

"But he doesn't even want the maps," she said. "I told you that, too."

"All supposition," he reminded her. "He did ask for them, his only stipulation being that you show up to deliver them yourself. So the fake you is present and accounted for, just not leaving my ship, the maps get handed to Lacross, and then your father gets released. All nicely accomplished with no one getting hurt."

She rolled her eyes. "And if he doesn't release my father until I'm standing in his presence?"

"He can't very well renege just because I deliver the maps to him."

"Like hell he can't. Don't for a minute assume he's honorable. I need to be there in case your plan backfires and he ends up holding you hostage, too."

"Does that thought…distress you?"

She blinked, then frowned. Was he fishing for a declaration of some sort? That she was worried about him? That she cared about him? She pushed the thought away, didn't want it in the same conversation that Pierre was in.

So she said, tongue almost in cheek, "Of course it distresses me. If you get captured, then I'll have two hostages to rescue, won't I?"

He laughed, pulled her closer, rubbed his cheek against hers on the way to whispering by her ear, "I find it charming that you'd rescue me."

She slipped her arms around his neck and smiled as she replied, "I'd have to rescue you so I could shoot you for being dumb enough to get captured in the first place."

He burst out laughing. "Damn, Gabby, you are wonderful for the disposition. I don't think I've ever laughed as much as I have since I've known you."

"I bet you say that to all your sweethearts," she replied with feigned coquetry.

He gave her that stomach-fluttering smile of his. "No, I don't believe I have. Only to you."