Miss Abigail's Beastly Beau Read online

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  The captain eyed him thoughtfully. “I’ll admit, I’ll feel more comfortable if you’re at her side.”

  Caleb shifted, already turning to head to his house.

  “We are in your debt, Mr. Calhoun—”

  “Caleb,” he snapped. How many times did he have to remind these people? He wasn’t some gentleman and he certainly wasn’t any Mr. Calhoun.

  “Caleb, then.” Her father wouldn’t let him go. Not without making this awkward. “I never truly thanked you for—”

  “No need.” Caleb started to walk away. It was what anyone would have done. The captain’s gratitude rubbed him wrong, making him more irritable than ever by the time he reached his new temporary abode.

  He didn’t need the captain’s gratitude, and he certainly didn’t want Abigail’s. There was no question it was gratitude that had kept her coming to visit him every day as he healed, coddling him like he was one of her scruffy little children.

  It was gratitude on her part, that was all.

  And as for him...she was under his protection. Everyone knew that when you saved someone’s life it was yours to protect.

  Duty on his part and gratitude on hers.

  That’s all this was.

  He’d do well to remember it.

  Chapter 4

  Abigail grinned as she entered the carriage to see it overrun by the hulking mass of muscle that was Caleb Calhoun. “Well, you certainly managed to strong-arm your way into this one,” she said.

  He scowled. That made her smile.

  “Your father agreed with me that you need more protection than she can provide.” He nodded toward her maid who climbed in behind her. “No offense, Miss.”

  Her maid, a shy, quiet girl named Anna, merely blushed and looked away. No doubt she was terrified by the oversized pirate.

  Abigail had tried to tell her earlier that he wasn’t nearly as frightening as he looked, but no one seemed to believe her. Even Hattie had given her a look of disbelief and Hattie was always quick to see the best in people.

  Hattie, who even now was flooded with guilt for not being by her side. Her youngest sister stuck her blonde head inside the carriage. “Are you certain you do not wish for me to join you?”

  Abigail sighed. In truth, she did wish Hattie could join her. Not because she was frightened by Caleb. Certainly not. She just did not relish the thought of visiting Aunt Lucinda on her own.

  But even as she waited for a response, Hattie sniffled, her red nose a dead giveaway that she was still too ill to travel. Abigail smiled and patted her sister’s hand, where it rested against the carriage door frame. “Next time, dear. For now, you get some rest.”

  Hattie smiled gratefully. None of them actually enjoyed these visits to Aunt Lucinda, and she was no doubt relieved to be staying behind.

  Abigail teasingly narrowed her eyes. “But do try to rest, dear. Not just read all day.”

  Hattie’s grin was sudden and sweet. It was also a reminder of how quickly she was growing into a young lady. She was no longer a child, just as Abigail was not getting any younger.

  She shoved aside the thought. She’d had enough wallowing yesterday to last a lifetime. “We should be off,” she announced brightly.

  Hattie nodded and turned to leave, but then she paused. In an act of courage that made Abigail proud, Hattie lifted her gaze to look at Caleb directly. “Thank you for looking after my sister.”

  Caleb stared at her youngest sister as if faced with a vicious predator. Wariness was in his eyes along with that familiar glare.

  She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. No doubt he was not used to sweet young ladies thanking him for anything. Or even making eye contact. Sure enough, he gave a grunting noise of acknowledgment and Hattie beamed in response.

  Abigail couldn’t quite stifle her laugh as Hattie ducked out and Caleb’s scowl grew.

  He eyed her steadily as the carriage ride got underway. “You seem happier today.”

  “Is that an accusation?” she teased.

  “No.”

  Poor Anna looked terrified by their exchange, glancing from one to the other before dipping her head and focusing solely on the darning she’d brought with her.

  “I am happier today,” she admitted when his gaze refused to stray. He seemed absurdly interested in her mood, which was a little flattering, if she were honest. Her sister and father hadn’t even noticed she’d been crying. Or, if they had, they likely thought it was just a result of Minerva’s departure.

  And while losing her very best friend was a part of it, it was not all of it. Her leaving merely brought the rest of her woes into focus.

  And by woes, she meant her future.

  She blinked rapidly and turned to look out the window. But she would not stew on that again today. Not when the sun was shining, and the fall air was crisp and heavy. Snow would be on its way soon enough, and today was a day to revel in the last of the autumn sunshine.

  Besides, she had her very own guard, and he made for extremely enjoyable company in his own unique way.

  “We have a long journey ahead of us today, Caleb.” She used his given name carefully, ignoring Anna’s flickering glance of surprise.

  It seemed important to him that he not be known as Mr. Calhoun, and she wished she knew why.

  He gave a short grunt of acknowledgment to her prosaic comment.

  “We might pass the time by getting to know each other better.” She used her most calming voice, the one that always soothed the little ones when they were overset.

  Caleb’s gaze grew wary again.

  “When did you choose a life at sea, Mr.—er, Caleb?” She flashed him an apologetic smile for the near slip and outright ignored her maid’s look of horror at the personal question.

  Caleb’s expression was more difficult to read. He did not seem shocked. But he also did not seem inclined to answer.

  He ignored her just as thoroughly as she ignored her maid.

  That was fine. She looked out the window. If her years of teaching the town’s little ones had taught her anything, it was patience.

  She assumed he wasn’t going to answer at all. And that was fine. She could wait. Perhaps she should have eased into the questions about his background. Abigail passed the next half an hour with thoughts of how she might best get to know the mysterious man who’d not only saved her life, but who’d made for such an enjoyable companion these past days.

  Well, not enjoyable for him, perhaps. But she’d looked forward to her visits. There was something calming about the man who everyone else found so intimidating.

  Perhaps it was his long silences or his low voice or the way he was so large but so still. He reminded her of the lighthouse that stood out on a rocky outcrop not far from their home. A strong, unwavering presence in the midst of chaos.

  And these days her life did feel rather chaotic.

  “It was the sea that chose me.”

  Her head snapped up at the sound of that low rumble like thunder in the small carriage. Not a boom, however. Soft enough that it did not rouse her sleeping companion. A smile tugged at Abigail’s lips as she realized the maid had dozed off at some point and that Caleb had waited until she was the only one who could hear.

  Her heart fluttered at the thought that he trusted her. And then again at the thought that they were, for all intents and purposes...alone.

  “How so?” she asked.

  His gaze held her steadily as if watching her reaction as he told her about being born into a life of squalor down by the London docks. About his abusive father and the mother who’d abandoned him. He spoke in a low, even voice, without emotion. Like he was relating someone else’s story.

  She made sure to hold his gaze and show no pity, even though her heart felt as though it was being wrenched in every different direction at the thought of a child being treated so.

  He would never want her pity, she knew this much to be true. No one wanted pity. But sympathy...that she could not withhold.

  “I am so sorry,” she said after he’d revealed how his father had paid off his own debts by selling his son as an indentured servant for a crew of merciless merchants whose real business was in the trading and selling of human souls. “How did you escape that life?” she asked.

  His gaze never wavered. Not once. He met her gaze and held it as he told her about the fateful day when pirates boarded that ship. How they’d set him free along with the slaves on board. How they offered him work. Lowly, grueling, menial work, but work. With a wage.

  “Not all pirates are decent, of course. But there is a code. There is a hierarchy and an order.” He finally looked away and Abigail let out a long breath.

  He’d told her his life story and...she was honored. No, honored didn’t begin to describe this feeling. She was touched, and grateful, and... “Thank you.”

  He glanced back over. “For what?”

  “For the truth. Most people...” She wet her lips as she tried to organize her thoughts. “Most people speak in half-truths and evasions. Not many tell me the truth. Not the whole truth.”

  She cringed. She was doing a terrible job of explaining.

  His brows drew down. “I will always tell you the truth.”

  She nodded. She believed him. “Why did my father agree to you accompanying me?”

  He arched one brow and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of amusement, no doubt because she’d been so quick to leap on his offer of honesty. “Because that Eddleston chap thought he saw someone lurking near the fort.”

  She frowned. “Roger?”

  He shook his head. “We don’t know.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “Father did not tell me.”

  “He likely did not wish for you to worry
.”

  Anger flickered through her hot and unexpected. Was it not enough that she’d overcome that unpleasant experience at knifepoint without swooning? What more did she have to do to prove that she could be trusted with the truth?

  There were secrets her father was keeping. From her. From her sisters. She only wished she knew what. She sighed and Caleb leaned forward. “If we’re being so honest with one another, tell me the truth. What was that sigh about just now?”

  She let out a huff of rueful amusement. She supposed he had her there. Honesty had to go both ways, did it not?

  “It is just...” She pressed her lips together and glanced over. That was her first mistake. His gaze was so very fixed. So intent. As if the next words out of her mouth were of the utmost importance to him. “After all you’ve just shared, I feel silly.”

  “Why?”

  She smiled. “My problems are nothing compared to yours.”

  He arched his brows. “Your problems are my problems.”

  She blinked as the air rushed out of her lungs. “Pardon me?”

  He leaned forward slightly. “I saved your life. Which makes your life and your happiness my responsibility. Tell me what’s wrong and I will help in any way I can.”

  The words had an odd effect. She felt as though he’d reached into her chest and squeezed her heart, even as she also felt as though he’d slapped her across the cheek. It was at once so unutterably sweet and so ridiculously patronizing, for a moment she knew not how to respond. “You are not responsible for me.”

  He did not so much as blink. “I beg to differ, Miss Abigail.”

  “Abigail,” she said. “Just Abigail. If I am to refer to you by your name, then you must do the same.”

  He dipped his chin in acknowledgement but that all-seeing gaze of his never wavered. “I have angered you.”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “In a way you have. Do not misunderstand, I appreciate that you wish to keep me safe, but...” She swallowed. “I do not wish for you to be kind to me out of some sort of duty or obligation.”

  Her words seemed to hang in the air between them. She wiggled in her seat. Idiot. She was the veriest fool. She knew he’d stayed behind to keep an eye on her, her family, this town...

  He’d done it for Marcus. For Minerva. She should not have been hurt to hear him admit that he only gave her the time of day because he deemed it to be part of his obligations.

  She looked out the window.

  “I did not mean to hurt you.”

  That voice. So low, so gruff. So honest when he chose to speak.

  She shut her eyes as she struggled to remember what they’d been talking about. All he’d told her. Her sigh this time was quiet. Almost silent. She kept her gaze on the trees they passed. “I truly am being silly.” She turned to face him. “It is just that I’ve recently discovered I am standing at a crossroads, as it were.”

  His silence urged her on. For all his talk of duty, she would admit—he was awfully good at listening.

  “I find that I am neither young enough to continue on as though I have all the time in the world ahead of me, and yet you and my father still treat me as though I am a child.”

  “I do not see you as a child.”

  “Good.” She swallowed as a heat she could not explain stole through her veins. “I am a grown woman.”

  “I am well aware.”

  She eyed him steadily. “And yet you feel the need to protect me.”

  His lips quirked up the tiniest bit on one side, but that hint of a smile was enough to soften those harsh planes to the point where he was...

  Her breath left her in a whoosh.

  He was quite attractive, really. In a very predatory, utterly masculine kind of way.

  “Believe me, I know very well how strong and brave you are. But even grown ladies require protection,” he said. His brows hitched up. “Even pirates need protection. Why do you think Marcus and I traveled together? And with a crew, no less?”

  She felt a smile tugging at her own lips as well. “Fine. But I do not wish for you to think of me as some sort of...of...albatross around your neck.”

  He smiled then, and she felt it to her very bones. She’d never seen a proper smile on him and it...

  Oh good heavens. The carriage seemed to spin around her as she took in the sight of it. The smile made his eyes crinkle at the edges and the creases around his mouth made him seem so much less terrifying and so much more...

  Handsome.

  Oh dear. When had he gone and become handsome?

  His smile vanished just as quickly as it had appeared and Abigail found herself rather dazed in its aftermath. What. Was. That?

  And then he shocked her some more by quoting Coleridge in that low rumbly voice of his. “Water, water, everywhere. And not a drop to drink.”

  She blinked. Were they still in the carriage? Was this still autumn? She’d lost all sense of time and place in the face of this man’s many facets. “You...you enjoy poetry?”

  “No.” He sank back in his seat. “But you happened to refer to the one poem that was popular on the Night Raider.”

  “The Night Raider?”

  “Marcus’s ship,” he explained.

  “Ah.” She leaned forward, more curious now than she could stand. “Will you miss it? Life at sea?”

  He nodded. “Very much.”

  Her gaze moved over him, from his sun-weathered skin to his thick, long black hair. “Then why leave?”

  His jaw worked as he returned her watchful stare. “It was time.”

  “But you are not so very old—”

  A huff. “Thank you.”

  “And you are obviously still in peak physical condition.”

  One brow arched and she felt that heat again. Drat. She was not one for blushing and she refused to start now. “I merely meant—”

  “I know what you meant.” His lips twitched a bit. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under Heaven.”

  Her lips parted. “Ecclesiastes,” she murmured.

  He looked out the window.

  “A pirate who quotes Coleridge and the Bible,” she said with a smile. “I am certainly glad I’ve made your acquaintance, Caleb.”

  He gave a grunt that she now knew for certain was amusement as he continued to stare out the window.

  “Are you an avid reader then?”

  He shot her a look that she could not decipher but it made her uneasy. Perhaps...

  Oh dear.

  Had that made him uncomfortable?

  “Some of the crew read aloud at night.”

  Some of the crew. Not him. Of course. She resisted the urge to smack a palm to her forehead. He likely could not read. Given his personal history, which he’d only now just told her about, why on earth would she ask such a question?

  Before she could apologize, he had steered the conversation back to her. “Is that what upset you yesterday?” he asked abruptly.

  “Pardon me?”

  He leaned forward, his brows drawing down. “The fact that your father sees you as a child.”

  “No.” A rueful little laugh escaped. “I suppose what was bothering me is that I’ve been forced to realize that I am no longer a girl.” He arched his brows and she sighed as she glanced away. “I told you it was silly. But with Minerva finding love and getting married, well...” She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I suppose I couldn’t help but wonder what will become of me. That is...” She glanced down to smooth the material of her skirts. “I do not have much dowry to speak of, and I know every gentleman in the town of Billingham and…well, let us just say that not one of them ever inspired me to smile so foolishly as Minerva did from the moment she met Marcus.”

  She glanced up to see him staring at her with wide eyes. “Well, you asked,” she said with an indignant huff.

  His mouth clamped shut and he leaned forward. “You wish to wed.”

  “Of course I do.” There was that heat again. She supposed she’d never really had any gentleman in her life whom she’d considered friends. It was difficult indeed to be discussing such a topic with a man. But he’d asked and after all he’d told her, she supposed he had every right to know the truth.

  He opened his mouth. He shut his mouth. He sat back. He leaned forward again.

  If it wasn’t so humiliating, she would have found his discomfort extraordinarily entertaining. As it was, however, she sensed that perhaps he was feeling sorry for her.