The Piratical Miss Ravenhurst. Louise Allen

like Miss Clemence Ravenhurst, sheltered young lady.

      ‘Clem. Clemence.’ She shook her head, fighting to try to regain her composure and her independence. ‘Oh, come here.’ Nathan sat down on the bunk and pulled her rigidly resisting body into his arms. He pressed her unbruised cheek against his chest, muffling her ear into his shirt, and held his palm to the other side of her head so that all she could hear was his heartbeat, the sound of his breathing and the turmoil of her own thoughts.

      ‘Clemence,’ he repeated, his voice a rumble in her ear. ‘That’s an unusual name. But I’ve heard it before, not all that long ago, either. Can’t think where, though.’

      ‘You’ve had a few other things on your mind,’ she suggested, trying to drag her imagination away from what was happening on deck.

      Nathan gave a snort of laughter, stirring her hair. ‘Yes, just a few.’ His hold on her tightened, not unpleasantly. He felt very strong. It was a novelty, being held by a man other than Papa. He’d been one for rapid bear-hugs, her father, impetuous lifts so her feet left the floor as he twirled her round. ‘How did you get this thin, Clem? I’d better keep calling you Clem, less risk of a slip.’

      ‘Yes,’ she agreed, her lips touching the soft linen of his coarse white shirt as she spoke. A fraction of an inch away was the heat of his skin; she could almost taste it. ‘I was always slender. When my father died I didn’t feel much like eating; then, when I realised what Uncle Joshua was doing, my appetite vanished all together.’ She shivered and felt Nathan’s hand caress gently down her swollen cheek.

      ‘They made me eat the night I escaped. Apparently I was so skinny it would be unpleasant for Cousin Lewis to bed with me. He said I was like a boy.’ Nathan stiffened and muttered something, but all she could hear was that low growl again. ‘That’s what gave me the idea. I still had the clothes from when I used to run wild as a child with the local planters’ sons.’

      ‘How did you get out?’ He was talking to distract her, she thought, grateful for the attempt.

      ‘The house is on a cliff and my room has a balcony overhanging the sea. I wrote a despairing note to make them think I had thrown myself over and I climbed up the creepers from the balcony, along the ledge just below the roof and then slid down some other roofs. I stole a horse from one of the penns about two miles away.’ Nathan made an interrogative noise. ‘You’d say farm, I suppose. Or agricultural estate. I threw my clothes and my plait of hair away far from the house. They’ll think I’m dead, I hope.’

      Clemence felt him lift his head. ‘It’s over.’

      That poor man. He had probably done many awful things himself in the past, but he deserved a fair trial for his crimes, some dignity, not a brutal death for a tiny mistake.

      Nathan didn’t free her and she did not try to duck out of his embrace. It was an illusion, she knew, but even the illusion of safety, of someone who cared, was enough just now. She felt her body softening, relaxing into his. ‘You’ve got guts. What did you hope to do?’ he asked.

      ‘Stow away, get to another island, find work.’ The lie slid easily over her tongue without her having to think. However good he was being to her now, if he knew she was a Ravenhurst, guessed at the power and the wealth of her relatives, then she became not a stray he had rescued, but thousands of pounds’ worth of hostage.

      ‘And what do you want to do now?’ he asked.

      ‘Have a bath,’ Clemence answered fervently.

      Nathan chuckled, opened his arms and let her sit back upright. ‘We could both do with that,’ he agreed. Free of his embrace, she could study him. His eyes were not just blue, she realised. There was a golden ring round the iris and tiny flecks of black. As he watched her they seemed to grow darker, more intense. ‘I’ll have to see what I can organise. It’ll be cold water, though.’

      She nodded, hardly hearing what he was saying, her syes searching his face for something she could not define. It felt as though he was still holding her, as though the blow to her head had shifted her thoughts and her perceptions. He knew she was a woman now, and somehow that made her see him differently also.

      ‘Nathan…’ Clemence touched his arm, not certain what she was asking, and then he was pulling her into his arms and his mouth took her lips and she knew.