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Authors: Cynthia Wright

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BOOK: Spring Fires
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"Did you bring anything besides those clinging muslin gowns?" Raveneau demanded, his attention back on the crowded footpath.

"Clinging?" Her face flamed. "If my clothing clings, it is only because of the heat!"

He gave her a sidelong glance. "Did I suggest otherwise?" He laughed. "My question is purely pragmatic, my irresistible Mistress Hahn. I am concerned for your sake. Your life at sea will be a great deal more free and enjoyable if you can live it in breeches."

As it happened, she had brought breeches, at Stringfellow's suggestion. Still, Raveneau's attitude unnerved her. What was his game? Caro had said he had a family, but Lisette had yet to see them—and certainly they would not accompany him on so extended a voyage! What did that mean in terms of her fate on board
La Mouette?

"Whether I have breeches or not should be no concern of yours, sir," Lisette told him coolly.

"If you say so." Raveneau was feeling genuine amusement now, which was a relief after hours of nonstop worry about every conceivable problem that could crop up during their departure from Philadelphia. "By the way," he offered in a kindlier tone, "you should not feel guilty about leaving the city now. As I see it, it's every man and woman for themselves!"

As they ascended the gangplank, Lisette saw her two trunks and bandbox waiting on the deck. Another glance at Andre Raveneau sent a fresh qualm over her nerves. Would this voyage be worth the trouble if she arrived in England used and abused?

At that moment, a young red-haired man of perhaps thirty years rushed forward to meet them on the deck.

"Captain!" he cried. "I'm so glad to see you here at last.
Some
of us have been concerned for your well-being after all this time!" The young man paused, then bowed in Lisette's direction. "How do you fare, Mistress Hahn? My name is Halsey Minter and I'm pleased to welcome you aboard."

"Minter is my first officer," Raveneau explained, "and my right hand. You can always turn to him for assistance."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Lisette said warily, extending a slim hand. She had already known too many men of the sea to give any one of them her trust unless he earned it.

Minter offered to show her the cabin that she would occupy and Raveneau assured her that someone would be along with her trunks. As she followed Lieutenant Minter down the hatch, her last view of the French-born captain sent a fresh chill of fear down her spine. Was it possible, Lisette wondered, that Raveneau expected her to share his bed?

"Here we are!" Minter announced, ushering her into the cabin with a flourish.

Lisette glanced around in surprise. The room was small, but sunlight poured through a square window to illuminate a neatly made mahogany bunk built flush with the polished floor, as well as a Windsor chair that reposed before a desk and three bookshelves, filled with books and braced across the front to keep them in place. There was even a small dry sink with a pitcher and bowl. The entire cabin was spotless, yet somehow cozy. With a smile, Lisette walked over and trailed a hand over the plump snowy pillow, the woven blue spread tucked tightly along mahogany, and finally the brightly patterned quilt that was carefully folded at the foot of the bed.

"This seems a very personal cabin, Lieutenant." Looking up, she saw the warm pride in his eyes. "Could it belong to you?"

He grinned. "Yes, Mistress Hahn, it does. I hope you will be comfortable here."

"Why, I couldn't allow you to give up these wonderful quarters on my account!" she exclaimed. "And—you must call me Lisette!" she said trusting him instinctively.

"All right, if you will call me Minter. It's the name that sounds most familiar to me on board ship." His open smile and twinkling blue eyes had made more friends than he could count, and were winning him another at that moment. "As for the cabin, I am honored to have you use it during this voyage. I will bunk with my friend the boatswain and I imagine that his salty companionship will be an interesting change from my own."

She crossed to lay a delicate hand on his arm. "But, Minter, I shall feel terrible, depriving you of what is obviously a private haven! It's bad enough, my coming on board because of the captain's charity—"

"It was my own idea that you should stay here. I know you from visits to the CoffeeHouse over the years, and I've long admired your charm and poise. This is the only cabin, besides the captain's, that is clean and civilized enough for a fine woman like you."

"In that case, I thank you for your kindness, sir!"

"You have been kind to me many times in the past. Even when you were a child, your smile cheered me when I was lonely. It reminded me of my own daughter."

"You don't look old enough..." Lisette's voice trailed off as she noticed the tiny creases in his youthful face and an occasional gray hair among rusty orange. "You said I reminded you of your daughter! It's not possible that you could have a child as old as I am!"

He gave her another warm grin. "Believe it or not, Lisette, I've a daughter who is about to celebrate her seventeenth birthday. Louisa was the result of an indiscretion that occurred when I was little more than a child myself. Fortunately, however, I was able to claim her as my own when she was five."

Lisette heard a rumble in the passageway that suggested the arrival of her trunks. "You've been away at sea all these years—with a daughter at home?"

He smiled, not offended in the least. "Until she was ten, Louisa came along with me on voyages all over the world. After the war, we sailed to China, France, Italy, Africa—everywhere. We were in Ireland when I met my wife. Louisa introduced us; she always kept watch for a potential mother and her instincts were flawless!"

Two seamen lugged the first trunk into the cabin and Minter waited for Lisette to direct its placement.

"I do have to be on deck when we set sail," he said after the men had gone to fetch the smaller trunk and her bandbox, "but Captain Raveneau asked me to stay here until you were settled. One never knows when an affection-starved sailor might lose control in the presence of a lady."

Lisette arched a delicate brow. "It has been a pleasure to talk with you," she said carefully before tilting up her chin in a way that Nicholai Beauvisage would have recognized instantly. "As for your captain, I would appreciate it if you would inform him that I am an independent woman. I am used to dealing with men, many of whom are less than genteel, and I certainly won't require a protector during this voyage!"

Minter managed a polite smile. Why, he wondered, did Lisette harbor what seemed to be hostility toward Captain Raveneau? "I am certain that the captain meant only to extend a courteous welcome to his ship."

She realized that she'd touched a nerve. "I've been rude. I do apologize."

"No apology necessary!" He gave her a boyish grin. "But, I really must caution you to keep your wits if you intend to wander around the ship alone. I realize that you are adept at handing the men at the CoffeeHouse, but there you have other people all around. Only a fool would persist after you rejected him in that situation. The scene could end quite differently on board ship."

Unbidden, the dark memory of Marcus Reems's attack returned to her mind. "You are right, Minter. Thank you for the advice."

"I don't mean to frighten you. Captain Raveneau has strict rules about the punishment for any man who mistreats a woman on this ship. I only want to ensure that you'll be cautious during our weeks at sea."

"I understand." She paused as the two seamen reentered with the last of their burden. After they had left, Lisette posed a casual question, searching for the right words. "It's reassuring to know that the crew is forbidden physical involvement with women, but I am curious to know... is the captain bound by those same rules?"

"Captain Raveneau?" Minter exclaimed, obviously highly amused. "Forbidden? He
owns
La Mouette
! Who would be fool enough to forbid him
anything
—especially, ah, female companionship?" Minter's eyes twinkled at the implications of such an outrageous suggestion.

Somehow, Lisette managed to retain her composure. "You must admit, though, that the idea of one set of rules for the crew and another for the captain is not a very sound way to run a ship. Don't the men resent him for having a woman when they cannot?"

"No, no." He chuckled. "Captain Raveneau's case is different and we all know that."

"Different?" She couldn't help it; her voice rose. Was this the way it would be? After that righteous speech about protecting her from horny seamen, would Minter blithely send her, like a lamb to its slaughter, into Raveneau's bed simply because
his
appetites were somehow exalted?

"Well, you know, we indulge him," Minter was saying, cheerfully oblivious to her rising ire. "Most of this crew have served on board
La Mouette
for years, and many, including me, were with Captain Raveneau on the
Black Eagle
during the war. We've come to understand him. He's a man who inspires a great deal of respect, loyalty, and affection—and terror at times."

Lisette was further confounded by the nostalgic smile that curved his lips. "I don't understand why you're looking so pleased! Frankly, I don't relish the prospect of spending weeks at sea with a man who is
terrifying!"'

"But that's just the point. Although the captain may still be capable of unleashing his fury if someone clearly deserves it, the frequent black moods are in the past. His crew is grateful for that."

"Pray tell, what miracle wrought this change?"

"Perhaps he used to suffer from cold feet at night!" He grinned. "If the only cure was a warm bed, the crew didn't mind, since they benefited too, in the long run. But now I must go, or we'll invite the captain's temper if I'm not on deck when we set sail!" Sobering, Minter turned back to add, "When you know him better, I am certain that you will change your tune. Soon enough, you'll understand that all it takes to make our French pirate purr is a woman's touch."

With a last smile and wink, he was gone, leaving Lisette to the sick feeling of dread that knotted her stomach. She sat down on the bed and wondered crazily if it would be possible to cancel her travel plans, disembark from
La Mouette,
and return to the CoffeeHouse.

She smiled wryly, listening to the squeaks, clatter, thumps, and shouts on the deck above. It was out of the question to consider turning back now. After all, she had made a decision and leaped boldly into the fray. Every ounce of her courage and confidence would be required to deal with whatever lay in store for her in England.

"Ma'am?"

Startled back to reality, she looked up to find a boy of no more than sixteen shifting from foot to foot in the doorway of her cabin. "Yes?"

"My name's Gideon Post, ma'am. I'm the captain's steward."

He was blushing so that Lisette had to smile, but that only seemed to increase his suffering. "I am happy to meet you, Gideon.'"

He nodded, smiled, regarded his shoes, then cleared his throat and declared, "Captain Raveneau requests that you join him in his cabin in one quarter of an hour."

"Oh!" Suddenly, she realized that the ship was moving, picking up speed, swaying with the currents of the Delaware River.

Gideon Post wiped sweaty palms on his breeches and offered, "His cabin's abaft of the wardroom..."

"Thank you." She managed a weak smile. After he had blushed and bowed and finally departed, Lisette closed the door. Leaning against it, she wondered what could possibly save her from warming Andre Raveneau's bed—not only today but every day until they reached England...,

 

 

 

Chapter 36

 

July 2, 1793

 

Andre Raveneau rubbed his eyes distractedly and raked a hand through his glossy black hair. He was barely a dozen steps away from his cabin, where he would be able to taste not only a hot breakfast, but also soft, delicious lips—and more, if fate was kind this morning. Now that
La Mouette
was finally on her way to England, a great deal of tension was uncoiling inside him.

The sun shone brightly, the wind was with them, and soon the ship would reach the Delaware Bay, beyond which swept the Atlantic Ocean,
La Mouette's
home for at least the next six weeks. For Raveneau, too, the sea was home. No city or house could hold him for very long. These past weeks in Philadelphia, fraught with unexpected delays and complicated by the specter of a possible yellow fever epidemic, had tied knots in his disposition.

The door to Minter's cabin opened as he passed. Raveneau turned, expecting to greet the beautiful muslin-gowned Lisette Hahn. Instead, he was confronted by a female haphazardly garbed in ill-fitting breeches, wrinkled stockings, shoes, and a voluminous shirt that had seen better days.

"Mistress Hahn?" Amused disbelief infected his voice. "Can it be you?"

"Yes, of course, Captain!" Her smile was innocent, but her eyes were wicked. She was delighted to see him looking so startled; perhaps Raveneau might be disgusted enough to reject her! "I decided to take your advice about making myself comfortable while we are at sea. It's heavenly not to have to fuss over my appearance! For the next few weeks I intend to relax."

BOOK: Spring Fires
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