Page 21 of Dominating the Duke

After a few moments of silence, he gave her an incredulous look. "And then we all live happily after in Old Bailey after kidnapping an aristo?"

"No, no...once we regain the Channel, I'll tell him the truth. I'll vow to break off my partnership with his brother, and I'll send word to his man of business to have someone pick him up at the East India dock."

"And why would he let you do that?"

"Because he'd be relieved out of his mind that he wouldn't actually have to serve as a slave to a wealthy woman...and he wouldn't want anyone to know he'd been bested by me. He's a very proud man." She paused a few moments before giving Obadiah a pleading look. "That would work, wouldn't it? And we'd be rid of him forever."

Her first in command gave her a long, speculative look before finally speaking again. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Anger built behind her eyes and she couldn't help flashing sparks of outrage at her first mate. When she finally spoke, her voice was controlled and low. "What made you say such a terrible thing?"

"Because you don't know how to have a man in your life unless you're the one in control, which explains your crazed plan to kidnap and terrorize a duke. You've been convincing yourself the real reason is that you want to keep him from snooping into your business affairs."

"You only think you know what I want, Obadiah Portman."

"I think you're headed for a hell of a blow with that man."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because the Duke of Chelmsford is wicked clever and a lot stronger than you think. I'm pretty sure the only reason he's willingly going along with your cork-brained scheme is that he's in love with you as well."

* * *

Percy gazeddown into the barrel of hard tack biscuits inhabited by occasionally squirming weevils and took a deep, calming breath. He'd finally gained control of the damned seasickness with generous helpings of the ginger stubs Eleanor always seemed to have to hand. However, the sight of the creatures inhabiting the barrel brought back the familiar queasiness.

He turned to Cook, who was putting together a pudding for that night's supper on a miraculous wood-fired stove in the center of the galley. "Should I toss these biscuits overboard? They seem to have insects infesting them."

Cook was a solidly built man nearly as tall as Percy, and possessed no sense of humor at all, at least as far as he could tell in his short experience thus far in the hot-as-Hades galley.

The man shook his head hard, as if clearing his thoughts. "Toss the biscuits?" He raised his eyes to the deck floor above and shook his head again. "Toss the biscuits." And then he gave out a loud hoot which quickly turned into raucous laughter he couldn't seem to stop. He laughed so hard, tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and he had to lean over, gripping his knees before he could bring his laughter under control.

He stood again to his full height and pointed a greasy finger toward Percy. "Never, ever throw anything away in a ship's galley, because someday those weevils could be the only thing between you and starvation."

That was the final blow. Percy raced out of the galley to the nearest ladder to the upper level, not stopping until he'd cleared the top deck so that he could lean over the rail and cast up his accounts. When he finally gained control of his stomach, he sank to the deck, exhausted.

A shadow loomed over him, and he looked up into the pitying eyes of Eleanor's first mate, Obadiah. "Maybe it's time you learned how to splice lines of rope. I'll turn you over to the Bo'sun for the afternoon."

Percy was too nauseous and too flattened by his time in the galley to reply. When had he become a liability and the laughing stock of the ship? Day two of being a swab aboard a sailing ship had turned out to be not nearly as exhilarating as the day before.

* * *

Eleanor,thank the gods, had not been above deck to witness Percy's gastric breakdown after Cook had explained he might someday be forced to eat the weevils that infested their store of biscuits.

The proud Duke of Chelmsford knelt in front of her now, assiduously scrubbing the floor of her cabin. He'd finally been banished from the room where the hundreds of feet of the ship's rope lines were maintained. Obadiah had unceremoniously delivered him back to her cabin when Percy had tried to saw through a piece of rope with a rusty blade to separate it into two pieces, after his "minder" had explained several times how a hot piece of metal had to be used so that the cut ends did not unravel under extreme use and pressure.

"What are you doing?" El was at a loss as to why he thought her floor needed cleaning.

"I'm swabbing your personal deck, my captain."

"Why?"

"Because, apparently, this is all I'm good for on this ship."

Something about the tilt of his head and the monotone of his reply made El wish she'd never met the man, had never felt the warmth of his lips on hers, had never felt his cock pulsing inside her. Suddenly, revenge seemed like the worst idea she'd ever had.

She squatted down to his level, stared into the depths of his dark blue eyes for a moment, and then smoothed his hair back out of his eyes as if he were a small boy. "I'm pretty sure there's something you'd be really good at and you'd be doing me an enormous favor at the same time."

The look in his eyes turned immediately suspicious. "What would that be?"