Page 21 of Barbarous

“Perhaps. We can discuss the matter at breakfast.” She looked away. “Once you’ve had time to put on some clothes.”

Hugh laughed at her chiding tone, the same one she’d used on the boys.

She ignored him and hustled the boys down the hall.

* * *

Daphne shepherded the twins toward the schoolroom, cursing herself for a bumbling and blushing ninny in the face of nothing more than a naked male chest. Well, and he’d not been wearing a nightshirt beneath his ridiculous silk robe, either. What kind of man wore such outrageous, sensual clothing?

Daphne shook her head, irritated by the stray thought.

Besides, it hadn’t been the robe so much as what was beneath it. She might be ignorant when it came to sexual relations between men and women, but she understood the biology of male arousal. The man was outrageous to be standing about in broad daylight like a stallion in rut. And she was an idiot to have reacted like a slack-jawed chit.

Daphne pushed away the memory of his monstrously tented robe, instead recalling his offer to take the boys with him today. She felt an unpleasant smile curve her lips. The arrogant and mostly naked man might know how to fluster gauche countrywomen, but he had no idea what an outing with two enthusiastic young boys entailed.

Her smile grew at the image of the imperturbable rake after a day spent with Lucien and Richard, running amok and unchecked. It would be no less than he deserved if she allowed him to take the lively twins with nobody but himself to curb their behavior. Indeed, that was what she should have done—left him with them.

Instead, she had simpered. Simpered! How very kind of you. We can discuss it at breakfast, she mimicked under her breath.

Well, it could have been far worse. Her first impulse when she’d seen his bare chest had been to flee in terror. Instead, she’d stood like a post, torn between her fear his robe would open wider and the desperate desire that it might. Thankfully, that portion of hallway was dimly lighted so at least he hadn’t been able to see her wretched blush.

Daphne cringed at the memory of the brief exchange. She was a respectable widow, not a girl in her first Season. It was time she learned to behave like one.

* * *

Hugh, Daphne, the boys, Kemal, and Rowena departed for Hugh’s ship shortly after breakfast. Daphne could not decide whether Rowena had come along to watch her, Hugh, or the boys.

For his part, Hugh looked as amiable as ever and seemed to notice nothing amiss, focusing his attention on the boys rather than Rowena’s raptor-like stare. He fielded their nonstop questions with an easy competence that made it seem as if he’d been doing nothing but raising boys all his life.

Rowena sat across from Hugh and stared, unblinking and harsh-faced, like some pagan totem—as if she suspected he might produce a cutlass from his impeccably tailored coat and kill them all where they sat.

There was no mistaking which ship belonged to the feared privateer One-Eyed Standish. Batavia’s Ghost was not only the largest ship at anchor, she was also the most exotic and dangerous looking—just like her owner.

When they boarded the Batavia’s Ghost, her crew stood in a long row along the railing, as if for inspection. Daphne realized she was about to be introduced to sixty of the most intimidating men she’d ever met.

The boys walked slowly down the line and shook the hand—or hook, in one memorable instance—of each sailor, almost paralyzed with joy to be meeting the most famous band of privateers in the world.

Daphne nodded and smiled, entranced at the number of missing eyes, ears, and other body parts. But it was the last man in line who made the biggest impression, mainly because he was just that: the biggest. He was even taller than Hugh and probably weighed more than three men. His long, glossy black hair was pulled back into a knot held with a beaded leather clasp. He wore a heavy silver ring in his nose, silver cuffs on his wrists, and a wide band of the same metal around a bicep the diameter of the boys’ waists. The only garment on his upper body was a vest made of some type of fur, the animal’s head still attached. He wore fringed buckskin trousers and his enormous feet were encased in leather slippers.

“This is Two Canoes,” Hugh said. “He was named thus because even as a child he was of prodigious size and needed two canoes to transport him.”

Daphne smiled at the gargantuan man, who pointedly turned away, an expression of withering disdain on his hawklike features.

Hugh took her arm and leaned close as he led her toward his cabin, leaving Rowena to guide the boys.

“You must remember that Two Canoes, like most of my men—” He paused and then corrected, “Well, with the exception of Martín, perhaps—has spent very little time, er, socializing with women.”

Daphne gave him a skeptical look. They were sailors—wasn’t that what sailors did? Womanize?

Hugh shook his head, as if she had spoken out loud. “Every one of these men has, at one time in his life, been a slave—some of them were even born into slavery. Two Canoes was taken from his village in America by English sailors when barely more than a lad and then captured by corsairs not long after that.”

A wave of shame washed away her suspicion. “Oh. I am sorry, I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “In any case, I am sure Two Canoes does not intend any insult. Among his people, women and men occupy quite different and separate spheres. Theirs is a society with sophisticated rules regarding hierarchy and rigid roles for each sex.” Daphne swore there was a hint of approval in his voice. “Even their meals are eaten apart and their courtship and mating rituals are very different from English customs.”

Words like sex and mating conjured unwanted images in Daphne’s mind, ensuring that her face was the color of a poppy by the time they went from the dim light of the corridor into the well-lighted captain’s quarters.

She risked a glance at Hugh and was greeted by another of his wicked smiles. He chuckled at whatever he saw on her face and her foot itched to kick him. Oh, the man was such a wretched tease!