Without his will, his hand cupped Thessa’s cheek, pulling her to face him.

‘I am baiting the trap,’ he said, and knew the words were merely appeasement for what he was going to do.

The feel of her cheek against his palm took him from being a captain to being a man looking into the eyes of his beloved. Every time he gazed into her face he saw something that made him forget how a man was supposed to act and start thinking of those treacle-laden words that made a woman smile.

Touching her, he realised he’d completely erred in thinking Thessa had any resemblance to the stone statue. She was far more appealing.

She watched him just as intently as he looked at her.

His lips closed over hers, tasting, letting her femininity caress every part of him. The kiss fired up his spirit. Erased the memory of what she’d forgotten to tell him. The touch of her lips cloaked him in armour and told him such beautiful things.

AUTHOR NOTE

Captain Benjamin Forrester first appeared in my novel SAFE IN THE EARL’S ARMS, and almost instantly I knew I wanted to tell his story. I saw him as a man without a care in the world except for a love of the sea and a deep fascination with mermaid lore. For months I looked forward to writing the first scene in this book.

But Captain Forrester’s personal story didn’t unfold in the way I expected.

During my research I read about some of the hard-ships a Regency sea captain would have experienced. Voyagers could take several years before returning to their home port, and every day at sea was much the same—except for when something happened to make things worse. If tempers flared no one could immediately leave or be let go.

To live in such conditions, and to be able to return to them, would take a very strong man—particularly if he had a privileged life that would have welcomed him back.

The day after I’d finished the story of this captain I missed writing about him—much in the same way you’d miss a good friend who’d moved out of your life.

I hope you see Benjamin Forrester the same way I do.

A Captain and a Rogue
Liz Tyner

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LIZ TYNER began creating her own stories even before she decided on the lofty goal of reading every fiction book in her high school library. When the school gave her a career assessment they came up blank—they double-checked and still came up blank. Liz took it in her stride, because she knew that on the questionnaire she’d ticked an interest in everything but scuba diving. She believed the assessment proved she was perfect for becoming a novelist.

Now she and her husband live on a small acreage, where she enjoys strolling her walking trails and wishes the animals she shares the trails with wouldn’t visit her garden and fruit trees. She imagines the wooded areas as similar to the ones in the children’s book Where the Wild Things Are. Her lifestyle is a blend of old and new, and in some ways comparable to how people lived long ago.

Liz is a member of various writing groups, and has worn down the edges of a few keys on her keyboard while working on manuscripts—none of which feature scuba divers.

A CAPTAIN AND A ROGUE

features characters you will have met in Liz Tyner’s debut novel for Mills & Boon® Historical Romance SAFE IN THE EARL’S ARMS

DEDICATION

To my mother, who is making heaven an even better place for the angels to be.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

‘Capt’n. There’s yer mermaid.’

At his first mate’s words, Benjamin’s head snapped around and his eyes locked on the form slicing through the Aegean Sea.

Benjamin took two steps closer to the edge of the craggy rocks overlooking the water. The sea air took some of the rotted-egg smell of the island from his lungs and the shape reaching the shoreline took all thoughts from his head.

He reached to his side and took the spyglass from the hanging sheath, and peered. His movements must have caught her attention, because as soon as her head appeared in his eyepiece—she treaded water. Her eyes locked on his, capturing him.

Then she turned, long arms finishing the swim quickly. Everything else in the world disappeared but the vision in his spyglass. His breath caught. He’d truly found a mermaid.

‘Ah, she saw us,’ Gidley grumbled. ‘Now she’ll go and turn into a reg’lar woman. Blast the luck. Once a mermaid sees a man, she sprouts legs. Happens every time.’

The woman stepped on to the sand. Benjamin grunted in disappointment, realising he’d been lost in a fantasy.

He tipped the end of the glass downward to ascertain she did have legs. She wore a chemise, but the thin, wet garment viewed through a strong imagination left little covered. He braced himself, keeping his knees from giving way, while he leaned forward, trapped in his thoughts.

Gidley nudged Benjamin. ‘Lend me that glass, Capt’n. Want to see if she be sportin’ a tail.’

Ben pulled air into his lungs, giving himself time to relearn to speak. ‘No,’ he said. And then he murmured. ‘No fins.’ Breasts, yes.

‘Bet she’s the one we’re looking for,’ Gidley said.

‘I hope so,’ Benjamin spoke softly. ‘She’s...’

‘Mermaid like or reg’lar woman like?’

Benjamin paused. He’d not really studied her face. He raised the view of the glass, taking in the sculpted lines of her jaw and moving up to the graceful cheekbones. ‘I would say—better than either.’

Then he saw her pulling clothing on and he lowered the spyglass. He turned and slapped Gidley on the arm. ‘Turn your back. We’re gentlemen.’

Gidley grimaced, shuffling around until he faced the opposite direction. ‘Speak for yourself. I be an able-bodied seaman. And that’s a mermaid. Had to look and so did yer. Would be wrong not to appreciate, like spittin’ out good ale. Don’t let her get close enough to spit at yer, though. They’ve venom in their mouths.’

Benjamin shook his head. ‘She’s not a mermaid. She’s a woman. And if she’s Melina’s sister, then she’s not someone to dally with.’

‘Then I need to find the little treasure that I left behind last time. Bouboulina or Alenakous or something like that. Would ’uv remembered if I’d known we was returning. I brought more coin this time—so I’m expectin’ true love.’ He dropped the canvas bag of gifts they’d brought to give Melina’s sisters. Gidley tugged up his trouser waistband, puffed out his chest and straightened the rag of a cap that stuck to his head even in the roughest squalls.

The island breeze blew across them and Benjamin waited on the woman to scramble upwards through the rocks.

‘This ol’ island’s not a bad place, if yer don’t mind breathing in the whiffs of an old volcano demon’s breath.’ Gidley peered around the area. ‘But we need us a real voyage under our legs—not bouncin’ around to make yer brother happy. Just seems wasteful.’

‘Not if I make good on the deal,’ Benjamin muttered half to himself. He wanted to leave as badly as Gidley. Sailing was his life—not running errands for his brother, the earl, who just happened to share ownership in Ascalon with Benjamin.

But the earl had made a solemn promise. If Benjamin returned with Melina’s treasure—some artefact that neither of the men truly gave a whistle about—Benjamin could own the Ascalon from port to stern.

Marriage. His brother was so besotted with his wife that he was willing to trade away half a ship just to make a woman happy.

‘Yer snarlin’.’ Gidley’s words broke Benjamin’s reverie, while the first mate scratched his head and made his hat wiggle. ‘Thought seeing a real live mermaid would put a smile on yer face.’

‘I’m thinking of my brother losing his mind.’

‘Some women are worth losing a mind for. Just never seen one myself, ’cept that mermaid climbin’ this way.’

‘Don’t be daft, Gid. She’s just another island lightskirt.’

And at that moment, Benjamin heard her scrambling footsteps bounding up the rocks beside him, turned to her and lost his grip on the spyglass.

Even Gidley didn’t comment on the glass dropping, tumbling to rocks far below them.

Ben saw the resemblance to his brother’s wife—but this woman caught his eyes in a way no one ever had before. She might not be a mermaid, but Benjamin wouldn’t rule out her being descended from Aphrodite.

* * *

Thessa pushed back the dripping tendril of hair she’d not managed to capture in her bun and let her eyes linger over the agklikos who’d had that looking piece trained on her.

She waited for him to speak. She’d heard his last words. He was English. Like her father, a man who believed lies would feed his family.

‘I’m Benjamin, the captain of the Ascalon. I took your sister to England.’ This from the one who had weak fingers and too-strong eyes.

So many questions pounded into her mind at once that she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t put the words into the English she’d learned at her father’s knee. She couldn’t ask what she wanted to know most—her sister’s fate. If the ship had returned and her sister wasn’t with them, then she must be dead. Thessa shoved the thoughts from her mind and stared at the man in front of her. He had taken Melina to her death.

He lifted the bag at his feet and moved towards her. She didn’t take the offering. She knew not to accept anything from one of the sailors. Gifts were not without cost. And never would she take something from a man who’d caused hurt to Melina. She’d die first.

‘Captain. Vessel. Melina. Away.’ He spoke carefully, snaking his other hand up and down in a bobbing motion to indicate a ship sailing.

‘We.’ He touched his friend’s arm and then his own chest. ‘Are here.’ He pointed to the ground. ‘Searching.’ She thought he mimicked digging. ‘Melina sent...for treasure.’ He touched the gold ring and she noticed both his smallest fingers had rings.

She shook her head. But he’d mentioned her sister. And he spoke as if she were still alive. The thoughts darkening her vision vanished. The world around her reappeared and she stared at the two men.

‘Try French, Capt’n,’ the straggly one said. ‘’Cause of all the French ships that dock here, whores has to learn it early.’

‘Whores?’ Thessa snapped out the word.

‘See, Capt’n...’ The silver haired one smiled so big she thought his face would burst. ‘Just have to find the right words. Melina told me both her sisters can speak King’s English better’n me. ‘

‘I did not learn it by choice,’ Thessa said. ‘My father forced us.’

‘I must be grateful,’ the younger man said. ‘To see a woman swimming and then to be able to speak with her is indeed a treat. Women in London do not prefer to swim.’

She searched his face. He didn’t have the thrashed-around look she’d seen on many men. In truth, his eyes had the colour of sky and sea combined.

‘It’s true,’ he added. ‘A few of my men still cannot swim. The ones who have been with me longest, when we’re in warm ports that are not well populated, I have commanded them to learn. But near people, the water carries away the waste. You’d not willingly immerse yourself.’

She looked the tall one over carefully. An officer’s coat contrasted with the seaman’s duck trousers, the legs tucked into scuffed knee boots. Wind whipped hair with strands of lightness, possibly put there by some spirit running her fingers through while he slept. Small whiskers at the sides, but trimmed, near his ears.

He did look pleasing to the eyes. Better than the usual men she saw.

His nose wasn’t broken. He had teeth. Both ears. No scarring. A bit odd, that, but then he was from a country where the men rode horses instead of using their own legs, worked with ledgers and wore flounces around their necks. But this one left off his lace. Near the string tying the neck of his shirt closed she saw darkened skin, almost like a man from her own country.

Even though she couldn’t fault the man his appearance, he needed to leave Melos. The men who docked on the island were refuse tossed out by their own countries. If they’d been worth anything, someone would have kept them at home.

‘If yer mermaid had a tail when she was afloat, might ’uv been a bit sharp at the end—pointy like,’ the older one said quietly, one brow twitching aslant.

‘With such perfection of face and form, one can’t be too upset that there’s a flaw somewhere,’ the captain answered. Then he gave her a smile which she was certain would help any woman overlook his heritage.

She realised her sister could be sitting in their home at that very moment. Just because she wasn’t with the men didn’t mean she hadn’t returned with them. ‘Did you bring Melina?’ The words rushed from her lips and her eyes locked on him. She moved two steps towards the trail to the house before he answered.

‘No,’ the captain stated. ‘She married my brother and we feared the trip for her as she could be adding to the nursery. Her first trip did not do her well, and since she is already having seasickness on dry ground, she couldn’t manage another sail.’

‘She’s gonna drop a babe on the ground real soon. Doing herself proud,’ the older one said. He looked too bland and spoke too sweetly. ‘Knows a woman’s place.’

‘Nothos.’ She bit out the word. They had let her sister stay behind—or forced her. Surely Melina had been forbidden passage if she did not return. And the child. That meant Melina had sold herself to a man. Her sister had sacrificed for family.

Gidley leaned his head to Benjamin and spoke from the side of his mouth. ‘I don’t think that was praisin’ me on either one of my parents bein’ wed. Maybe if we toss her into the sea she’ll turn back into a mermaid and swim away.’

‘But then we would lose this charming creature,’ Benjamin said and tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Thessa looked at the man, then let her eyes move skyward to dismiss his flattery.

The captain’s lips quirked up. ‘It takes more than two sea ravaged men to impress a mermaid.’

She waved an arm, indicating the gnarled olive trees and scrubby grasses behind her, and then pointed to the cragged rocks rising majestically from the edge of the perfect sea and the water itself. ‘I live with this every day. I am not easily impressed.’

‘I wouldn’t prefer a woman who was,’ the captain said, and in that moment, he looked away from her.

But just before his head turned, something sparked behind his eyes, watching her in such a way her breath caught and warmth tickled in her body. She took half a step back and squared her shoulders.

‘What do you want?’ Thessa asked.

‘Melina said you could show us to the artefacts. The stones.’

She raised her brows. ‘Artefacts. For an Englishman? The island is covered with rocks. Take your pick. They are all valuable to me.’

They were, but only as places to put her feet. She was more concerned for her stomachi. The rocks couldn’t save her now.

Marriage to Stephanos would not be so bad. She would have the home he was building. She would have a friendship with his mother. She would have food to eat. And she would learn not to breathe the spoiled air when Stephanos stood near.

Chapter Two

Benjamin imagined his plans for ownership in the Ascalon sinking and he felt his resolve harden. His fingers tightened on the bag he’d brought. This woman had to help him. And Gid was right. She did have a pointy-tailed look on her face, more like Boadicea ready to eviscerate her enemy than any water creature. He liked her much better when she was in the sea.

‘I’m sure all the rocks are quite precious at one’s birthplace,’ he said. ‘But this particular rock has the likeness of a woman’s face on it and Melina uncovered it near your home. She wasn’t able to take it with her on her voyage to England and I’ve returned with funds to purchase it from the man who owns the land.’

Thessa gave a shrug. ‘You did not let my sister return. I will not help you.’ She nodded towards the sea. ‘And you should be on your way. Because I have no intention of giving the treasure to you. I do not know if Melina requested the rock or if you have locked her away somewhere. She could be a prisoner on your ship.’

Benjamin didn’t say a word. This was why he liked his imagined mermaids. They never spoke. They never argued. And they were always gone when his dream ended.

‘Didn’t think of that, now, did ye, Capt’n?’ Gidley’s cheeks puffed with humour.

Her dark eyes challenged Benjamin. But even if she pointed a flintlock at his heart, he was not moving.

Without the stones Melina claimed to have found buried just below the land’s surface, it would be a decade or more before he could hope to buy his brother’s share of the ship. By then the Ascalon’s hull would be ravaged by sea worms.

And his sister-by-law desperately wanted the stones—claimed the face resembled her mother and believed, in some long-ago time, a member of her family had posed for it.

He didn’t care who’d posed for the rocks—they were stone. Colourless. Lifeless. Bland. But if collecting mouse whiskers from the island would get him his ship, he’d be hunting mice. He would take on the whole island if he had to in order to get his Ascalon.

He’d been told by Gidley many times that fortune had favoured Benjamin his looks and kicked Gid in the teeth. Benjamin had hardly passed his sixteenth year when Gid had suggested Ben give a tavern wench a most indelicate proposition and a smile, and see what happened. Ben had assured Gidley that no woman would accept such a brash offer. He delivered the words and was half in love by morning when Gid had thumped on the wench’s door to awaken Ben. For the whole of the next voyage, Gid had ducked his eyes, shook his head and grumbled about the fates. Ben had grinned back at him each time.

Benjamin watched Thessa, then he smiled.

Her eyes narrowed and she took a step back.

Gidley’s snigger did not hide well under the cough.

Ben changed tactics and then clasped Gidley’s shoulder. ‘My first mate is superstitious. And he believes, if he casts his eyes on this stone woman, our vessel will be protected from storms.’

She looked as if they’d just suggested she collect all the mice whiskers in the world.

‘Wouldn’t hurt,’ Gid said. He patted the decades-old waistcoat he’d worn in anticipation of impressing the females on the island and lifted the hem and pulled a handkerchief from his waistband. The handkerchief probably hadn’t started out as the colour of wet sand. ‘Thought if I could wipe her face with this, I’d have a protection from all them evil spirits been chasin’ us here.’

Gid waved the cloth with a flourish and Ben jerked his head back, dodging a not-so-innocent snap of the fabric. The rag smelled as if Gidley had been washing his feet with it although Ben knew that wasn’t possible.

Ben turned to Gidley and glared, before softening his stance and appraising the woman again. She would not slow him down. He had a cargo waiting to be loaded in England and needed to leave Melos quickly. Though his ship was not one of the gilded East Indiamen, if returned to the docks in time, he’d been promised a voyage for the company. Two years he’d be at sea, but he’d wanted this since before his first sailing. To be a captain, and to sail for the East India Company—nothing meant more.

‘Miss. Think of your sister. In her...’ he paused ‘...family condition.’ He blinked and put a look on his face he thought a vicar might use when comforting. ‘Wanting a precious memory from her homeland, probably to show her own little one what their grandmother looked like—how can you keep that from her?’

‘She left us and she didn’t come back with you. If her stomachi was already fighting her, then it could have fought her at sea and she could have returned to us. Why did you not bring her to say these words herself?’

‘My brother worried for her safety.’

The woman touched the sash at her waist. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Fidi. Snake. That is Englishmen.’ Her eyes challenged him. ‘You have kept my sister and refused to let her return home, and now you want the treasure.’

He kept his eyes on her hand, watching for the hilt of a knife. Disarming her didn’t concern him, but it would be harder to convince a woman who’d just tried to slash his throat to show him to the stones.

The Ascalon was in his grasp. The voyage of a lifetime was waiting and the ship was still young enough to have at least two more good trips in her before the sea took her hull. She was made of good English oak, but even that didn’t last long in the oceans.

Benjamin could not go back and admit failure to his eldest brother. He took in the sandy soil and the shallow-rooted trees. Surely he could find the rocks on his own. Surely. But he couldn’t bring all the men from the ship. If anyone knew he must have the rock, he wouldn’t be able to bargain. He needed a strategy and he did not want this woman to think him defeated.

He firmed his jaw and let his eyes linger on Thessa’s face, but he spoke to Gidley. ‘Melina said it was near her home. We’ll start searching in the morning. I’ll bring the crew and we’ll look at every rock.’

Gidley nodded to Benjamin, the first mate’s voice a scholarly tone. ‘I’ll find it if’n it’s here. Have eyes like a ferret and I can sniff out treasure better’n any ten pirates.’

But they could find the stones a lot faster with the woman’s help and Ben didn’t have time to dig up the island, no matter how small it was.

He picked up the bag Gidley had dropped, aware of its weight, and put it on the ground in front of the woman. ‘We did bring some things, and if you look closely I think you’ll agree they’re things a sister would select for another sister. Not anyone else. She couldn’t send this if she’d been a captive. She’d want you to help us.’

Benjamin had no idea what kind of fripperies were inside the canvas, but Melina had had tears in her eyes when she’d asked him to give it to her sisters.

Thessa didn’t move. He strode forward and put it gently at her feet. ‘She sends her love.’

She bent, reached in, pulled out a parcel and unwrapped it, unveiling a thick woollen shawl. She retained her wariness and trapped the clothing and its wrapping under her arm.

Then she pulled out another parcel, but before she examined it, she looked into the bag and laughed. The sound of joy from her lips moved through him quicker than a dive into a warm freshwater pool and he had to wait to come up for air.

She dropped the canvas sides of the bag and reached inside. He expected some jewel or house folderol. Instead she pulled out a kettle and held it by its bail.

Looking at Benjamin, she said, ‘My sister. She claimed we could never heat enough warm water because by the time we heated the pot again, the first was cold.’

Her face softened even more and she put the kettle down. She took the shawl under her arm and hugged it close, letting the soft wool touch her cheek.

He watched. A kettle and a shawl, and the woman sniffled.

Ben looked at Gid. Gid opened his eyes wide and shrugged, then showed a bit of his teeth and nodded to Benjamin. Ben refused to try the smile. Besides, it wouldn’t work. The woman was too caught up in the wool, stroking it and rubbing it against her cheek.

His body’s reaction irritated him. This was a business endeavour—nothing else. His brother was the one trapped by skirts—not him. He never neared a woman who truly tempted him. Never approached a woman who might net him. He was the sea creature. The water was his breath and the oceans his home.

‘We’ve missed her so.’ She kept her eyes on the fabric. ‘I thought when she didn’t come back, that a storm had taken her, or the sea. Or she’d been killed by the Englishmen.’

‘Your sister wants those stones.’ He heard the grit in his words.

Her eyes rose to his. And he saw the face of the nymph who’d risen from the sea. Her image outshone every painting he’d seen of mermaids, even the ones he’d commissioned to his specifications.

Her eyes rose to his. ‘So she is well?’

Benjamin nodded. ‘She married my eldest brother.’

She sighed. ‘I cannot believe my sister would marry a man not of our own island.’ Her lip trembled. ‘She would sacrifice so much for us.’

Benjamin tilted his head to one side, turned his body slightly away, putting her from his vision while he collected his thoughts. ‘He’s an earl.’ He glanced sideways, gauging her reaction to his words.

This time her shrug was almost invisible. ‘I’m sure you think as much of him as I think of Melina.’

‘I’d agree with the miss,’ Gidley said, wobbling his head. ‘Wouldn’t want my sister to marry an Englishman neither.’ He smiled at Benjamin. ‘We be a foul lot.’

Benjamin glared.

Gidley grinned. ‘I like bein’ part of a foul lot myself. Saves on washin’ and makin’ pretty words with the widows.’

‘The treasure?’ Benjamin turned his words to Thessa.

‘Malista.’ She nodded while she folded the shawl carefully and put it atop the other things she’d not examined in the bag. Raising her eyes, she said, ‘It’s no treasure. Just broken carvings. When the man from the French museum came, he said we should look for such things. That people would buy shaped rock. Father was excited and had us hunt because he wanted to have a discovery. We found nothing at first. The Frenchman left and Father...left.’

‘I’ve promised Melina I’d get the carving for her.’ Benjamin watched Thessa’s face. The change in her eyes and her voice when she mentioned her father leaving told him she had no more love for the man than her sister had. He couldn’t blame them. He’d met the man.

She looked at the sky. ‘This is not a good time for it. The light will be gone soon and the stones—my sister left them under the dirt. I’m not certain I know...where they are.’

Ben’s breath caught. ‘You don’t...remember?’

She frowned. ‘I remember... It’s somewhere on Yorgos’s land.’ She squinted. ‘And there are other rocks scattered about. Pieces of an arch. I didn’t notice much. Melina was the one who was excited. I just did not wish to tell her no one wants broken rocks.’

Gidley kicked at the ground. ‘Just my blasted luck. We sail a near lifetime to get some whittled rock on a stinkin’ island smellin’ of brimstone and the stones is broke and no one knows where the pieces is buried.’

‘We’ll dig up the whole island if we have to.’ Ben wasn’t letting the ship get away.

She looked at Benjamin. ‘I would not do that if I wanted the stones and I wanted to live.’

Her lashes swooped down into a long blink. ‘The island is small and, since the English ship took my sister, Stephanos has not been pleased. He had noticed my sister and to him all the women of the island are more his than anyone else’s.’ She shrugged. ‘We thought it best to tell him she was taken against her will. He planned to go for her, but I told him...I told him I did not want him to leave for her. I told him he should think of me instead.’ Her face turned in the direction of the sea. ‘I thought I could give her time to return to us.’

‘Then I need the stones before I have to fight someone. I’ll dig tonight.’ He had to get the rocks back on the ship. If the winds changed, they needed to take advantage of it. Waiting around for months in a harbour with an angry man on the island wanting to stir up trouble wouldn’t be good for anyone.

‘I’ll carry the bag to your house.’ Benjamin reached to take the gifts. ‘It’s heavier than it looks. And then Gid and I can start searching. You know how much the sculpture means to your sister. Let me give it to her.’

She stepped from his reach and pulled the canvas close. ‘My other sister is in the house. I’ll tell her Melina is safe and be back.’ She glanced at the trail they’d followed. ‘When Stephanos discovers you are here, I might need to soothe him.’

He saw a shadow pass behind her eyes, something she wouldn’t speak of. Then she turned away, scurrying up the path.

Even though her slippers looked to be no more durable than a few strips of leather, she moved as easily over the pebbles and stones as if she walked a hay meadow. He followed, unaware of where he put his own feet.

* * *

When she reached the steps which led up the side of her house, she put a foot on the lowest plank. He thought the whole house swayed with each movement and she had no railing to hold, but she made it to the top and darted inside, as nimble on land as she was in the sea.

‘Close yer mouth, Capt’n. And be glad yer brother’s not here to see you lookin’ at his wife’s sister that way.’ Gidley swallowed a chuckle, shaking his head. ‘The ship’d be needin’ a new capt’n.’

‘Ascalon needs a new first mate now.’

Gidley grumbled while he scratched under his arm. ‘Yer wouldn’t give me the spyglass to look at her and then yer dropped it when your fingers fell open like yer mouth. Ain’t no way it survived a tumble down the rocks like that. Reminds me of the time we seen them lightskirts and I had to pay full cost and yer services was requested by the bawd. Yer could have bedded her and she promised yer afterwards yer could have one of the others at no cost.’

‘She was jesting.’

Gidley snorted. ‘She’d ’a been bumpin’ yer head into the bed frame ’fore you finished sayin’ yer agreement. And me standing there and she didn’t even note my manly form.’

‘You overwhelmed her. She took one look at you and saw your experience showing through—’

Gidley interrupted, waving a hand. ‘Save yer perfume-y words for them that wears such. I know better’n believin’ any yer treacle.’ Then he paused and squinted at Ben. ‘Well, in this case, yer might be right.’ He puffed himself taller. ‘Probably shows right from my eyes what I can do to make a woman beg for my attentions. Just takes once and they be talkin’ about ol’ Gidley for the rest of their lives...assumin’ they survive the pleasure.’ He turned to Ben. ‘I ever tell yer about that woman who fainted dead away at the sight of my manhood?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well it won’t hurt yer to hear it one more time...’

He let Gidley’s words fade from his hearing. He watched the fading sky, wanting so much to step foot on Ascalon and know he finally owned all of her—not just part.

Gidley’s talk penetrated Benjamin’s thoughts when he heard the woman’s name mentioned. ‘Too bad that Thessa one sprouted legs.’

Benjamin thought of Thessa in the sea. He couldn’t get the image of her stepping on to the sand out of his mind.

‘Capt’n, I can see what thoughts is in yer eyes. A sailor doesn’t need a woman to drag him down. ’Specially not for nothin’ permanent. Married man goes to sea—he drowns. You know it as well as I. Weight of leavin’ a family behind pulls him under.’

‘Nonsense. But a man can’t expect a woman to remember him when he’s been gone two years.’

‘Bet yer my braces it be bad luck to marry.’ He looped his thumbs under the leather straps holding up his trousers. ‘No. I don’t bet yer my braces. They’s my lucky ones. But I’m wantin’ to keep yer around, Capt’n. So just yer remember—yer can look. Yer can touch. Yer can promise. But yer can’t say no vows. Not even them short marriages a seaman can give a woman on an island he’ll never see again and her only knowin’ his first name and no other.’

‘I don’t want a woman. I want a ship. You know how I feel about Ascalon. Best ship I’ve ever sailed and better than gold. Even if that treasure’s only broken rocks—Warrington promised me a ship for them. And I’m taking the stones to him—with a ribbon ’round them. He’ll make good on the promise.’

‘Fine talkin’. But a mermaid flash a little tail at you and you be forgettin’.’ Gidley laughed at his own joke. ‘Wouldn’t mind staying on this rock pile, if I had me a mermaid. Long as I didn’t get finned in my man parts. No. I’m thinkin’ wrong. A mermaid would pull the life right out o’ me.’

‘There’s no such thing as mermaids.’ His mind flashed to Thessa stepping from the water.

Gidley snorted. ‘I seen her and so did yer. She just sprouted legs. I know my history, Capt’n. On a moonlit night, don’t get in no water with her—she’ll turn back fish, drown yer and swallow yer just like yer a minnow.’ He raised a brow. ‘Yer has to promise me, Capt’n. No swimmin’ in the moonlight with the woman. All we’d have left o’ yer is yer boots. She may look tasty on the outside, but on the inside she’s all scales, bones and slimy parts.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Ain’t a man alive now what’s coupled with a mermaid in the water. On land they be fine, but get ’em in the sea and they’s all bite.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I bet that other sister sports whiskers longer’n my own.’

‘She has big eyes and gills. Smells like bilge water. So get your mind off the women.’

‘Yer seen her last time?’

Benjamin shook his head. ‘Just seeing if you’d believe my fables as well as you do your own. If you mention one more word of that superstitious muck you’ll be tied to the mast, heels up, singing hymns.’

Gidley stopped for a moment. He mused, ‘Wonder if that one swimmin’ has one of them marks like her sister has.’ He touched above his breast. ‘Kind of draws a man’s eyes.’

Instantly, Benjamin’s thoughts jerked back to Thessa’s body. The sight of her stepping on to land. His imagination searched her skin, though the shift hadn’t allowed him to see close enough for a birthmark. His brother had said all the sisters had a small skin discoloration of some sort. The earl claimed it a longing mark. A remnant of something a mother wished for before a child was born.

Benjamin had no longing mark visible but when he looked at Thessa, he felt one deep inside his body coiling and bumping against his skin. He had no belief in mermaids or goddesses, but when he looked at her, he wished he did.

Chapter Three

Even before she left her house to return outside, Thessa thought of the captain standing at the base of her stairway, waiting for her to take him to the stones. She remembered his eyes, surprised at how she hadn’t wanted to turn away from him. He had lightness in his gaze which reminded her of the way the early morning sun shimmered across the blue of the sea—when the golden glow of the morning made her feel she’d awoken into a world fresh and new.

Stephanos would remember the name of the ship that took her sister. He would be angry to see it in the harbour. She would have to talk to him, otherwise the captain would be in danger. Even if the captain worked all night getting the stones, Stephanos would gather the men of the island and attack before the ship could sail. She would have to speak with Stephanos very soon—before the captain lingered on the island digging in the earth.

Thessa opened the door and moved to the top of the stairway. The older man stood away from the house, his eyes on the landscape, but the captain waited for her. When the captain stepped aside so she could descend, she noted the width of his shoulders and the firm line of his lips. He looked no happier to be on the island than her father had been the last time—no man should disdain the island so. But she did want to help her sister and the captain had no knowledge of what could happen to him on the island.

‘You should take care.’ She studied the paths. ‘Do you have weapons on your ship?’

He didn’t answer and took his time turning back to her. His voice was soft. ‘Whatever would I need weapons for?’ He stood as still as the fallen columns at the top of the island.

She let the wind ruffle her hair before she answered, ‘Sea serpents.’

‘Ah, yes.’ His lips turned up the barest amount. ‘Sea serpents. I’ve dealt with them.’

‘They have deadly teeth.’

‘Mine are just as sharp.’ His chuckle both warmed and chilled her at the same time.

To men spilling blood hardly seemed to matter. But she hated the quick death. The suddenness where light went to dark.

Her mother’s brother had been celebrating the birth of a child and everyone had been merry. But someone had said something about the child not favouring the father and, before she even realised anyone was truly angry, a knife had slashed through her uncle’s belly. Everything had changed in less time than it took to scream. Her uncle bled to death almost before her aunt could kneel beside him.

She had learned how a world could be wiped away with a moment that happened in the space of a few heartbeats.

Even when Thessa’s sister left, this sea captain did not know how carefully Thessa had chosen her words to Stephanos. She had pretended her sister had said she was visiting their aunt and that it had been days before they realised she’d left the island. She’d even begged Stephanos not to search out the ship, flattering him and hinting that her sister was marred—in case Melina returned. Thessa didn’t think the Greek could have found the ship in the vast seas, but she’d not wanted him to try.

Melina had been trying to provide for them all and Thessa knew her elder sister had wanted to search out their father. Melina couldn’t have survived marriage to the Greek, but she insisted Thessa not go near him. Melina believed in art and beauty. Thessa wished every painting on the earth destroyed. They only caused grief.

If she thought and spoke carefully, she hoped to put off marriage to Stephanos long enough for him to notice someone else.

She became aware of the captain examining her face. Straightening her sash, she said, ‘I wanted to be certain you take care. One bite from a sea serpent and a man can sleep for ever.’

‘I realise life can be deadly.’ He looked at her and had the look of secret humour in his upturned lips, but his eyes had blandness behind them, as if he wouldn’t even let himself look back at his own memories. ‘Creatures of the sea...or land...they are nothing compared to the storms the heavens can send and I don’t fear them either. If I wished for a different life, I would be with my second brother, watching flowers grow while I sipped wine and swirled it on my tongue, wearing unscuffed Hoby boots. I take your words carefully, but they are not necessary.’

‘Don’t try to outlive your welcome.’ Thessa’s voice lowered to a whisper. She needed to be careful of what she said. Voices could carry on the wind, or the sailor with the captain could be a fool who spoke to the wrong person.

The captain moved close. ‘I’ve outlived my welcome before.’ His words were soft, but she didn’t think he tried to hide them from someone, only that he wanted to convince her of the truth of what he said. ‘No fables of mermaids or serpents will change one furling of the sails on my ship or cause me to change one step of my well-travelled boots.’

She glanced at his boots. They were marred with lighter worn spots and darkened places on the leather. ‘Are those bloodstains?’

He didn’t answer and yet he did—with that same blank look.

‘Then I will not be concerned for you,’ she said.

He turned away. ‘Waste of your time.’

* * *

Benjamin had to put some distance between him and Thessa. She’d had care for him in her gaze. He didn’t like that.

He wished he’d never seen her swimming. Just because she’d been so at home in the water, his thoughts had lodged on her more strongly than they should have.

Thessa didn’t have the flowery scent of the few women he’d danced with at soirées in Warrington’s home, nor did she have the sometimes jarring perfume of the tavern wenches he’d enjoyed. She smelled of warmth and a different kind of soap than he was used to. Something which seemed exotic to him, perhaps a blend from island herbs or plants he didn’t know of.

The first hues of the sunset fell on her face. She wore the new shawl and her hair was pinned, but still, she didn’t look like any woman he remembered. Just like when she swam.

‘We should search out the stone in the morning,’ she said.

‘No. Absolutely not. I may not fear a sea serpent on the island, but I don’t wish to stir up any nests of them.’

‘You would listen to me and wait if you knew what was good for you.’

‘Really, Mermaid? Tell me more.’

Thessa shrugged his words away and moved past him, walking inside the bottom part of the structure and returning with a crude wooden spade. ‘It’s your neck.’ She moved away from them.

Tendrils of hair bobbed freely at the back of her collar, drawing his gaze to her skin.

‘Stay here, near the woods, Gid,’ Ben said, turning to Gidley. ‘Watch the path. If someone is approaching, then catch up with me and let me know.’

‘Right, Capt’n,’ Gidley said, and as Thessa moved away, Gidley mouthed the word smile and pointed to his own uneven teeth.

Ben did the opposite, then travelled along the white-sand pathway edged by stones removed from the trail possibly a thousand years before. Clusters of spindly vegetation dotted among the white stones, like rounded-over bonnets. Only a few scattered bits of green interrupted the burnt red and brown plants dried by salted wind.

The beauty contrasted the island’s harshness. He knew from the last trip that black glass-like shards could be found in places on the island, probably left from a centuries-old volcanic eruption.

His men had told him of the catacombs they’d found and his own eyes had amazed at the sharp white cliffs sticking from the sea, their bold colors contrasting against the blue water. One rock jutted from the sea, its top shaped like the scowl of a raging bear. If he sailed deeper into the islands around, the rocks could be like stone fingers reaching to rip the Ascalon’s hull.

As they walked the paths, the trees filtered what was left of the sunlight. But nothing softened the edges of the rock. Staring at the land around, he almost missed seeing Thessa step forward to move an olive branch aside. When it slapped back, he dodged and it grazed his cheek.

This could never be his home and he marvelled that Thessa seemed so enamoured of it. Except, she did have her sea to swim in—her own endless sea.

In one stride he’d caught up with her and walked at her elbow on the narrow path. He thought of Gid’s advice. Smiling couldn’t help if a woman kept her eyes averted from him.

Ben touched her arm to give her assistance when she stepped around a huge rock at the side of the path.

Her eyes flicked to his hand and then to him. ‘You should not show notice for me. It will not do you well.’

‘I would not be a true man if I did not show concern for a woman.’

She puffed out a grumble. ‘Englishman. Full of pretty speech.’

His hand dropped and he met her eyes. ‘I’ve never seen so much beauty on an island.’

If she wanted out of his grasp, she had only to take a step. She didn’t move.

‘Why have you not already married this Stephanos?’ he asked.

She gave a shrug. ‘I am waiting for the house to be finished.’

‘If we find the stone, then will you take me to Stephanos so I can purchase it tonight and leave straight away?’

She laughed and he instantly tensed.

‘It’s not the kind of thing you can put in a small place. Did you not see the marble Melina took?’

He shook his head. ‘I saw the wrapped parcel. Not inside it. My brother said it was a carved stone. That was enough for me.’

‘It was part of an arm.’ She moved her hand from fingers to elbow. ‘Not much, and yet bigger than my own. The rest is part of a woman’s shape, but I would wager it would take two men to carry each half of her.’ She looked at him, her eyes telling him she questioned his wisdom.

Thessa turned and began moving up the path. ‘The rocks are on the highest part of the island. You can still see walls from long ago which have crumbled to the ground. And I warn you, Stephanos will not let you take them from Melos easily. If someone else wants a thing, it becomes valuable. You will have to pay twice. Stephanos holds the land, and Melos, in his palm.’

He took her arm and stopped her steps. Watching her expression, he asked, ‘You’re sure the statue Melina wants is broken?’

She nodded.

Warrington had sent him on a voyage for some damaged statue? His brother’s nursery maid must have bounced him on his head thrice a day.

But his brother was besotted. Warrington did have a tendency to choose a wife who was a bit cracked. His first wife Cassandra had been full cracked and on the jagged side. Melina was only normal-woman daft.

‘Your sister knew this?’ he asked.

Thessa nodded. ‘Yes. She insisted I view it when she first found it. We helped her dig and we covered it back afterwards. And we all talked about the look of her.’

‘What was it about her appearance?’ He released her arm.

‘She looks like our mother did. And that made us sad because the statue was so destroyed.’

‘Destroyed?’ He heard his voice rise. For the cost it had taken to get his crew to the island a second time, an Italian sculptor could easily have been commissioned to do a statue of Melina and probably both the other sisters.

Thessa sighed. ‘She saw our mother’s face in the woman, so to her, this was a treasure. She is not like me. She thinks with her heart.’ Her lips turned up, but her eyes didn’t smile. ‘She’s insensible that way.’

Benjamin shook his head. ‘I understand...quite well.’ His brother Warrington hardly thought at all when he was around his wife though, unless it was of her. The only thing he’d been firm about was in not letting her take another voyage. But from the look of relief on Melina’s face, she’d not minded. The woman had been fish-belly white on most of the trip to England.

Thessa stopped and stared at him. ‘Did she describe the stones to you?’

‘No. She assured my brother you would know exactly what it was and where to find it.’

‘It is a woman. Both arms are broken. My sister left with one of them. The other we did not find, but parts of it.’

He stopped moving. ‘Are you sure this is the statue Melina wants?’

Thessa nodded. ‘You would have to understand my sister. She thinks leaves and feathers are beautiful.’

He grimaced. ‘I do not think my brother knows what he sent me to retrieve. And I hate to say what he will think when he realises he is trading his share of my ship for a long-buried statue of a woman with no arms...’

Chapter Four

Thessa looked at the captain as he turned to examine their surroundings.

Fading light touched a lengthwise section of column splintered long ago. Mounds of near-barren dirt pressed against the forgotten rock, with only occasional vegetation grasping for life among the harsh environs.

She could forgive him for gazing at her with such intensity, if he would keep his eyes from her for a bit longer so she could examine him. He reminded her of the rocks that jutted from the sea. Majestic. Feet staying in water. Daring the world to try to move them. Commanding. But he wasn’t a rock and he would not treat her as another wave to be brushed aside.

She tapped the tip of her spade against the ground. ‘I don’t remember just where the statue is buried. I helped my sister dig so many places and there were so many bits of chipped rock. It didn’t seem possible we’d need to dig up such rubble again.’

‘What do you think was once here?’ Benjamin asked.

Thessa turned a half circle, examining the area as if she tried to see through his eyes. ‘A site to speak to the heavens?’ Laughter bubbled in her voice. ‘A place to hide from your mother who wishes you to weave when you do not wish to?’

When he saw her humour, he watched her again, eyes speculative. His mouth opened, then he chuckled. ‘I would have thought you would hide at the shore or in the water.’

She frowned and shrugged. ‘It would be the first place she looked... I think she was half spirit herself sometimes, always knowing where to find us.’

‘Just a mother’s way.’

She studied him. ‘Do you not believe in things you cannot touch? On voyages, you do not think some unseen spirit creates the wind?’

He shook his head. ‘I think there are things unexplained, but that doesn’t make them magical. It just makes them not understood. Men used to say a ship could sail off the end of the earth. But I think that was a tale started by seafaring men to make them appear brave. A man gets a little ale in him, a woman sitting on his knee and he’s likely to spout nonsense just to watch her eyes widen or hear her gasp.’

‘And she’s likely to pretend her awe just to see if she can convince him she believes his nonsense.’

‘So, do you believe in mermaids?’

She pressed her lips together before shaking her head. ‘Mermaids all died out because they couldn’t find a mate worthy of their esteem.’

He looked at her and then laughed. ‘We have to be thankful women are not so particular.’

‘True. We aren’t.’

He looked around. ‘So where is the treasure?’

She knelt, using the spade for balance, and picked up a shard of marble. ‘As a child I heard the stories of spirits roaming here.’ She turned the rock in her hands over, examining. ‘My mother must have said that to keep us from roaming too far. When the sun is overhead, I do not believe in the spirits, but in the dark...’ she met his gaze, and smiled—almost laughing at her next words ‘...I would not want to trip over one and discover myself wrong.’

‘Any bones ever found?’ he asked.

She shuddered. ‘No. We would not disturb a final sleep. But this is not a burial ground.’

‘Why do you not think so?’ He walked beside her.

She turned, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘I would know. Burial grounds are remembered.’ She handed him the rock. ‘This wasn’t a place to bury, but perhaps a chance to gather and be merry. Boats float easily in our harbour now. I think it could have been the same years ago.’

She took the stone from his hand, brushing her fingers against his, feeling the roughened skin, his touch jolting her as if he had some magic about him. He examined the rock she gave him, running his fingers along the straight side. One of his ringed fingers, and the one next, didn’t bend with the others. So the man and his boots were marred. She wondered if it happened in the same fray, but she didn’t want to think about death.

She looked around. ‘If I were a spirit, I would be at the shore, my toes in warm water and the sun on my face. Not rumbling around sharp-edged stones.’

‘Swimming?’ he asked, his eyes intense.

She nodded. ‘The water cleanses my mind.’ She looked off in the distance. ‘If there was another life before this one, I lived it in the sea.’

When she turned to him, he stood immobile. Immersed in something in his mind. ‘Captain?’ she asked.

He breathed in, dragging air inside himself, and then he barely smiled, tilting his head to one side. ‘My pardon. I think one of your imaginary spirits is standing too close to me.’ He put a hand to the back of his neck. ‘Breathing against my skin.’ He turned. ‘I have to get the stone and leave.’

He walked to her and took the spade from her hand and tapped the ground with the tip of the tool. ‘Where should I begin?’ He gave a testing thrust of the tool into the dirt, jammed his foot on to it and a twinge of pain flashed across his face. ‘Blasted knee,’ he mumbled.

He was just as ravaged as the men on her island, only it was covered better.

‘How did you hurt your knee?’

‘Just fell into a spar on the last voyage. It’s still healing.’ He stopped digging. ‘But I don’t want to start sounding like I should be sitting at a hearth, wearing a cap on my head and a nightshirt.’

‘I imagine you’d not mind that if you had someone sitting on your knee who you could tell stories of bravery.’

A lock of hair fell over his forehead when he looked down, but he hadn’t moved fast enough to cover the smile in his eyes. ‘I’d only tell the truth.’

‘And I’m a mermaid.’

He raised his gaze and she saw the tiniest crinkles at his eyes, but he wasn’t smiling. ‘You’re better than a sea goddess. They evaporate in the early morning light when a man wakes.’

Thessa shook away the thoughts his words conjured and pointed to an area at the centre of the clearing.

‘There. That is the first place to dig.’

He moved and began scraping the earth from the stones—the rasps quickly disturbing the straggly vegetation, but hardly marring the surface. When he finally pushed aside a bit of the earth, a breeze passed over her, the scent of mouldering dust hitting her nostrils and she tasted the dirt.

She brushed at the shawl, not wanting the fabric soiled. ‘My sister was so excited when she found the statue. She pretended to nudge us with the arm when she brought it home. And then she brought us to help her dig again, but we refused to help for long. A person cannot eat rocks.’

She gave a small shake of her head and clenched her fists at her side. ‘I did not yet ask. Did Melina find our father?’

He nodded. He again took the shovel and ground it against the earth.

‘Is he dead?’ she asked. That would be the only reason she could forgive him for not returning.

‘No.’

‘Married?’

The captain watched the ground. ‘He has a wife.’

Thessa’s teeth clamped together. She had suspected as much. The only true fight she’d ever seen her parents have was when her father had suggested a man must have a woman to be inspired to paint. And they all knew he painted wherever he went.

‘What did my sister think of the woman?’

He moved earth as he talked—and used the tip of the shovel to pry loose other stones. ‘My brother told me Melina has nice thoughts of her. I am not certain when Melina met her, but it was before the ship was ready to sail back to Melos. I was to make the trip to return your sister to Melos earlier, but I delayed it after she decided to wed.’

‘She chose...’ her words were choked with disbelief ‘...marriage to your brother when she didn’t have to wed?’ Traitor. Melina was a traitor.

How many times had they sat in the night and said how mistaken their mother had been to marry a foreign man? If Melina was to do such a foolish thing as marry, why had she not stayed on Melos with them and simply married Stephanos? At least the sisters would be together then, and only one would have had to be trapped.

Thessa turned away from the man, not wanting him to be able to read her thoughts. She would have to go through with the marriage to Stephanos. She’d at least be able to provide for her younger sister and Bellona wouldn’t have to marry anyone she didn’t wish to. One of them would be saved.

‘I cannot believe she married willingly,’ Thessa said.

His hands paused. He looked at her. ‘My brother has the title. He’s not poverty-stricken. His house is near as big as this whole island. And woe to anyone who might stand in the way of a breeze of air that would cool Melina if the day is warm.’ He lowered his voice, speaking more to himself than her. ‘He is whipped by her skirts.’

‘I don’t understand what you mean. Men are not...like that.’

‘No. Well, most aren’t. But he’s always had a weakness of sorts. I’ve never understood it.’ He shrugged, but then grinned at her. ‘Sometimes, it is humorous to watch, though.’

‘And she is fond of him?’

‘Doesn’t matter much if she is, or isn’t. He’s at her feet.’

Her brow furrowed. ‘I cannot think that is true.’

‘If you say so.’ He lowered his chin. ‘And you? Are you fond of this Stephanos?’

‘I don’t have to be. He is of my home. He is a sturdy Greek. He will have fine children. They will eat well. His mother and I speak pleasantly.’

He turned his head from her. ‘So you’re not particularly fond of this man?’

She tried not to think of what she really thought of Stephanos and hoped she never found out what he did when he was away from the island.

‘I didn’t say I am not fond of him. I will grow close to him after we are wed.’ She hoped to teach him to bathe.

‘Yes.’ His words were overly innocent. ‘That’s how I’ve heard it works.’

She gripped the shawl. Her voice rose. ‘You know nothing of this island. Of the world I live in.’

‘No.’ He stared at her. ‘In truth, I know very little of England either. My world is the sea. My home the ship. My family the crew.’

‘In England, did you meet my father?’ she asked.

‘Once. Only briefly, years ago. I looked at his art. We talked concerning a painting I thought he might create for me. I’d seen his seafaring landscapes and portraits from his travels and liked them.’

‘He did not wish to finish something for you. Did he?’

Benjamin shook his head.

She tugged the ends of her shawl into a thick knot. ‘My father only paints what he is directed to paint from within himself. Otherwise he believes it is not truly inspired work. He believes no one can see the world as he does. And it is true. He did not see our mother cry each time he left for his home—he called London his home—and when she sickened, he did not see her die. He sees only himself in his world.’

She looked at the rubble they’d moved. ‘After the death, Melina wrote him many times. She sent letters with the ships leaving. He never answered. Only what is at the end of a paintbrush has meaning to him. Our mother’s dying meant nothing.’

He turned his gaze from the dislodged earth, watching her, and spoke softly. ‘By the time he found out about your mother’s death, it would have been too late to do anything for her.’

Her face changed, eyes narrowing.

‘It was not too late when he left.’ Her words were quick. ‘He’d only been here days. When he saw she was not well, he began to look for a vessel to take him away. He left on the first one that would carry him and it wasn’t to England. I asked at the harbour to see where the ship went.’

‘Sometimes...a man does things he should regret, whether he does or not.’ His movements stopped. He watched the end of the shovel. ‘My father died. I was there. But had my cargo been ready earlier...I don’t know.’

* * *

Benjamin sailed every voyage with the knowledge that when he returned home—if he returned—he would visit a different family than the one he left behind. And if he died at sea, he would be buried in the deep. His final resting place would be alone. Fitting.

He’d never truly thought he saw the world the same as his brothers, and after the first voyage he knew he did not. In two years, or more, at sea, much more changed than the people living their lives on shore realised. He’d never told anyone how unsettling it could be to walk back into the family estate and see the different fabrics and furniture moved in a room so much that it was almost unrecognisable. They thought they’d made no changes. But the world he’d left behind never was the same one he returned to.

Only the shades of the sea never changed.

Thessa turned away. She found a bit of the broken structure to sit on.

‘You do not have to marry Stephanos.’ He glanced away, planning to tell her of the dowry his ship carried for her. ‘Thessa, in England many men thinking of taking a wife would only have to look at you and would want to marry you. And with my brother’s help, you could find many suitable men to choose from. And if your younger sister is only half as comely as you, she would have no trouble finding a man who would wish to wed her. And then, there is also—’

She interrupted before he could get the words out about the funds.

‘Words so sweet.’ She laughed, moving her head back and tilting her chin to the sky. When she lowered her head, her voice became soft. ‘But Stephanos will do for me. He is of my country. I do not want to make the same mistake my mother did. Stephanos will stay here. His family is here and he loves Melos. I will have a home that I know.’

He let out a breath and turned to look at the island, so different from his birthplace. The trees weren’t even the same—more like aged fingers reaching up to the leaves. The ground was hard to till. Even when the air didn’t have the taint of sulphur, it didn’t smell the same as the English countryside.

‘Think hard about what you want.’ He looked at the horizon, wishing he could see the Ascalon. ‘Your sister, Melina, chose a different path.’

And then she stood and stepped beside him. She shut her eyes and shook her head gently before she viewed his face. ‘She thinks English.’ Thessa smiled apologetically. ‘She has the tainted blood.’

He forced a glare into his eyes and she chuckled in response.

‘Our father made her learn to write,’ she said. ‘She is like him—art fascinates her—or what she thinks is art. I am different. Even my bones know what I must have. This land, where I can speak my mother’s language and see my mother’s people, and know every one of my true family. To me, painting is a lie. It is beauty that someone imagined.’

Then she turned and, with the grace of an empress, picked up one of the small stones he’d tossed aside and threw it against one of the broken archways jutting from the earth. ‘I will wed Stephanos. Then when Melina is forgotten by the Englishman, I will have a home for her.’

When she mentioned marriage to Stephanos the image of her in another man’s bed stopped him. This was not an English society woman with constant chaperones. Her sister had given her body to his brother, Warrington, for ship passage.

He turned, anger gripping him as the knowledge of how likely it was that this Stephanos was already rutting with her. Benjamin knew if he were betrothed to Thessa, in a remote location, not a night would go by without her in his arms. And he’d swim with her and they would be like two sea creatures floating in the waves. He’d throw out every piece of nautical artwork he’d left in London if she’d just shed her clothes and bathe in a warm sea with him.

‘Your face is angry. Why?’ she asked.

‘I told you. My knee. It pains me.’

Her face tilted to the side, studying him, and her mouth opened slightly. Her eyes didn’t leave his and she nodded. ‘My father said that castor oil was medicine for his complaints. He left some. We can return to my house for it.’

He frowned. ‘No need for any bitter mixtures. I have a bad enough taste in my mouth from being on land.’

* * *

Thessa took a step back to escape the dirt from the shovel. The captain’s coat pulled across his shoulders, and his hair curled different directions at the ends. Never before had a man’s movements interested her so, but she supposed she’d never really watched a man work—unless she counted watching her father paint and she would have called that torture. This was not.

She spoke, afraid if she didn’t, he’d somehow be able to sense her watching him. ‘When the man from the museum in France visited, he asked if anyone had seen anything of value. Anything of history? After the man left Melina began secret trips to the highest part of the island, searching. Mana was sick, but Melina would not stop hunting the island.’

She’d dug and discovered the woman. ‘She didn’t want Stephanos to know we’d found something which might be worth coins, so we covered the marble—deeper.’ She tossed the rock to the ground. Thessa had been as certain that statue was worthless as Melina had been certain it was valuable.

But the one time Thessa had looked into the stone face, she’d refused to look at it again. Stone and cold and beneath the ground and resembling her sick mother.

And when she’d returned home and looked at her mother, shivers took over her body. She’d had to leave the room so her mother would not see her tears.

‘My mother always welcomed my father home,’ she said. ‘She was like the statue...waiting. Not complaining.’

Thessa tried to push her memories away. She’d wanted her mother to tell him never to come back. And then, when her mother was dying, her wish happened, but then her mother needed him more than ever. She was dying and he didn’t care as long as he could escape. How could he have not wanted to spend every moment with someone as wondrous as Mana? Thessa kicked some of the dirt in the direction of the shovel.

Her mother was buried, just as alone, on another part of the island. Deserted in life and death.

The captain never looked her way, intent on the mixture of dirt and broken bits of an archway.

The movement of his shoulders kept her attention and took her mind from the past, and she watched him, reminded of the water currents just before they broke into waves.

In a fair fight with Stephanos, she could not guess who would best the other. Their bodies were similar in size, but Stephanos... Everyone on the island knew of his temper and he did not fight fair. No one would have expected it of him.

Grumbling, the captain used the end of the tool to scrape dirt from the white mound he uncovered—a rock.

He put the shovel on the ground and dropped to his knees, pushing aside the dirt with his hands. Rough hands, comfortable with the soil now sticking to them. He pulled aside a section of the wall which had been trapped under stones, unearthing in moments what would have taken her half a day to uncover.

‘Nothing,’ he rasped out and stood, his left hand briefly massaging his shoulder. Then he looked at her and his face stilled. ‘But, then, you knew that, didn’t you?’

‘You come here to take her and leave. My father took my mother’s heart and left. You took my sister.’ She shrugged. ‘I cannot help you. I want to help my sister, but I cannot help you.’

He threw down the shovel. ‘I don’t want the artefact. Your sister does. You have to know that. Yes, the stone will help me secure my ship, but I am here because of your sister’s whim—and my besotted brother and his wish to put in front of her whatever your sister asks for. This is for Melina.’

‘My mother is gone. You’ve taken my sister. Now you want the one thing left that has the image of my mother’s face.’

‘Yes. And if she looks like your mother, and you can rescue her from the earth, why wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t your mother wish to have her likeness freed?’

‘Wait until morning,’ she said, fighting to keep her face unmoved. Digging in the earth had brought back the memories of her mother’s burial. ‘The light is going and you will be able to talk with Stephanos then. It is worthless to dig her up if he will not let you leave the island with her.’

‘I suppose.’ His chest moved as he inhaled. ‘You’re right. I can’t risk destroying already worthless rocks. If you wish it, I will return in the morning and I’ll buy her before I dig.’ He looked at the earth and then snatched the shovel from the ground. ‘You will tell me tomorrow, won’t you?’

Her heart thudded. ‘I suppose I’ve no choice.’ When his ship left, she would truly be losing her connection to Melina. She’d never see her again. Not if a man had her who valued her. The earl would never let her sail away from him into seas that could turn angry. And the statue would be gone, too, just like Mana.

She crossed her arms. Turning, she held her chin high, back straight and moved to the trail.

His footsteps scrambled behind her and he grasped her arm. He stopped in front of her, still touching her. ‘I have funds...’

‘But what I want is my sister. Can you return her?’

He let out a breath. ‘I can’t give her to you. And truly, she is happy where she is. I am sure she misses you, but she’ll not be coming back. Women tend not to leave their children, and from the looks of things, she’ll be having many of them.’

‘Oh.’ Thessa thought of the nieces and nephews she would never see. Never. She jerked her arm free. The captain stilled.

‘You stole her,’ she said. ‘You took her from me for ever.’

‘She chose to go. Willingly.’

She lowered her eyes. ‘My sister would have died for us. That is why I do not...I have trouble believing she didn’t return.’

‘She sent me and I have brought you—’

‘Do not tell me,’ she interrupted. ‘I do not want to hear any reasons she didn’t come back to us. We will manage. I am to marry.’ She shrugged. ‘You must not let Stephanos know how badly you want the woman,’ she said. ‘The price will rise.’

He turned so he faced her directly and now intensity flared from his eyes. ‘You think he will not guess? A man doesn’t sail this far for no reason. He might think I returned for you.’

‘You’d not met me before.’

He looked at her and gave a little grunt of agreement, but something else was in the sound.

If the captain had met her on the first voyage, all three sisters might have gathered up the bits of the woman and taken her to England. But then they would have been stranded in the same country as their father. She wished never to see him again. Even when he told the truth, he added something or left out something. To him, deceit was merely a better form of the truth. If he was caught in a tale where he’d misled the listener, his eyes would gleam. To have this pointed out to him was to have his craftiness rewarded—an admission by the listener that he’d been outwitted.

‘You are sure my father is alive?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘He was when I left England.’

‘I am not like my sister,’ she told the captain, speaking more easily in the shadowed world of the nightfall. ‘Either sister. Bellona does not worry. She knows we will care for her. We told her so over and over when she cried after our mother died. And Melina thought if she just searched enough she would find a way to keep our father. I...’

He waited.

She shrugged. ‘I am not sure what I am like.’

He examined her. ‘You don’t have to tell me you’re nothing like your sisters. Or any other woman. I knew that from the first moment I saw you.’

She darted her eyes back to his to see if he jested. His watched her and his lips parted. He looked at her the same way Stephanos did, but it didn’t make her uneasy. But instead of taking a step towards her, the captain moved the distance back.

Her teeth tightened against each other.

He turned, watching the skies. He studied the heavens, but she supposed captains did that often. And then he looked at the trees and the barren ground around them. Before his gaze finally returned to her, he put one hand on the back of his neck, then his arm fell and he looked to the sky again. ‘Will you swim with me?’

She studied his face. He spoke the words with more intensity than Stephanos used when he told her he wished to marry her. ‘It is either to be you or Bellona,’ the Greek had said. ‘I want you. Her, I do not like so much. But she will do.’

Thessa had challenged Stephanos that such threats would not sway either sister, but still, inside, she’d worried and known she had no choice but to agree to marriage.

She shook the memories away.

His vision locked on her and the muscles of his face hardened.

‘Swim?’ She leaned her head forward.

‘You cannot imagine how much it would mean to me.’

‘I cannot.’ Oh, but she knew what it would mean in her life. If she shed her clothing and moved into the water with him, she could have no recourse if he took her body. Stephanos would be enraged if he discovered it and the sea captain and his entire ship would be at risk—not that she cared at this moment. ‘You ask an improper thing.’

‘I know. But you are like the art on the walls of my London home, yet you are alive. I’ve never seen a woman such as you. Your sister doesn’t even come close. When I look at you, I see something I never saw before. When you swam it was as if you were free of the restraints of the earth, much like I feel when Ascalon is moving in a brisk breeze.’

She laughed. ‘A Frenchman told me I was an angel on earth and I didn’t take his offer either.’

‘He wasn’t wrong.’

‘You’ve been away from a woman too long.’

He paused, words low. ‘I always think that.’ She noted a faint apology in his eyes. ‘But this is not the same thing.’

She stood and pointed to the trail. ‘Go back the way you came. Take the second path in the direction of your right, and then—’ she waved her hand in the direction ‘—and then again right. You’ll see two houses close. The smaller one is the one you want. The woman there will swim with you, for as long as you wish if you have enough coin.’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re the only one.’

She clasped her hands in front of herself. ‘I think not.’

‘I’ll be proper. You have my word as a...a sea captain.’

She touched her chest. ‘I have always thought the word of a sea captain quite...quite like the word of my father, a man who could forget his promises as soon as they left his lips.’

‘I only wish to swim with you.’

She raised a brow. ‘And nothing else.’

He snorted. ‘I’d have to be dead not to think of something else with you, but, no, I will expect nothing more.’

‘No.’

‘You can return with me. I’ll take you to England. Your sister, too. My brother will make a home for you both. We have a town house in London we hardly ever use. You could stay there.’

‘No. Never.’ She turned her head and, to show her distaste at his words, spat on the ground. ‘My father left us for England. A painter who valued paintings more than the people in them.’

Even in the darkness, when she turned back to him, she could see his lowered jaw. ‘You... Women don’t...’

She reached down, grasped the sides of her skirt and lifted. His eyes locked on her legs. She took two large steps to close the distance between him. His gaze never left her calves and he stared.

She kicked his shin hard and then let her hem flutter down.

He jumped back, raising his eyes to her face.

She asked, ‘Women don’t spit and they don’t kick. Are you cured of wanting to swim with me now?’

He half frowned, and half smiled. ‘I doubt I will ever be cured of that. But you can kick me again if the next time you raise your skirt another inch.’

Storm-like currents of air exploded inside her body, but the air pressing into her touched nothing else on the island. She wondered if his gaze had somehow brought spirits alive and they danced around her. He wasn’t the only one with senseless thoughts. Now he was making them explode in her head. She had to make him hate her and to make herself dislike him. That would be the only way she could have a haven from his presence and make sure she didn’t do something foolish.

‘You senseless man,’ she said.

He raised his shoulders and held a palm up. ‘My pardon, Sweet. I wasn’t made to be a vicar.’

She raised her chin and stared at him. He truly didn’t seem offended by her actions. ‘I would say you chose well.’

‘I agree.’

The smile he gave her near took her legs out from under her. Her jaw lowered.

‘Are you certain you won’t just step into the water with me?’ he asked.

Something inside her screamed to say yes. ‘No.’

‘Uncertain?’ he asked and his eyes widened for a heartbeat with too much innocence, but then they changed again and he seemed to look into her. And his gaze promised her something she could not name.

Thunder that only she could hear pounded in her ears. She could even feel the lightning flashes burning into her skin from the inside out. She knew the lore of mermaids being able to create weather. But he was the unsafe one. He was the one who could call up storms.

Chapter Five

Thessa turned and started on the trail back to her home, leaving him to dig or not. It didn’t matter to her. She had to leave his presence and return to her home so she could shut the door behind her.

The captain unsettled her.

In the night, she kept dreaming of storms, full of violence and thunder, and waking into a world of silence.

She dressed, not wanting to be alone, and went into the other room of the house where her sister slept. Thessa lit the lamp and began to sew, trying to forget that they’d never see their eldest sister again.

* * *

As morning closed in, someone rapped three precise times on the door. Bellona didn’t wake, but Thessa rose. The captain would be outside. No one of Melos would rap so gently and with such purpose.

‘You didn’t bring more men?’ she asked, opening the doorway.

He nodded. ‘They’re at the longboat. I can get them if I need them. I’ve asked them to wait.’

Lips shut, she let out a long breath, then spoke. ‘It will go faster with more men.’

‘I can get them later,’ he said, turning, taking a quick step down the stairway. ‘We can’t sail anyway until the tide is right and there is wind.’ He spoke over his shoulder. ‘And I don’t want you having them dig up half the island because you don’t want to part with a statue that you’ve let stay under the ground.’

He grabbed the shovel at the base of the house and moved towards the trail.

She followed him. ‘You will need help.’

He stopped and let the tip of the shovel clunk against the ground. He leaned on the shovel. ‘You can stay here if you wish. At least if I start digging on my own, I’ll know there’s a chance I might find it.’ He trudged along, in front of her, ducking olive branches.

‘Englishman,’ she muttered to his back and her feet made rushed sounds on the earth behind him.

‘Woman,’ he responded in kind.

‘Thank you for the kind word.’ She kept her voice overly sweet.

He pushed aside a small limb and couldn’t let it go quickly because it might slap her, so he settled it back into place, but he didn’t turn to her. Instead he kept his eyes forward.

‘Only an Englishman would sail so far for a few broken rocks,’ she said.

‘Only a Greek woman would not take him straight to the place, show it to him and not go back to her home to leave him to dig in peace.’

‘I am Greek and I am woman.’

‘So, are you going to show me where the statue lies?’ he asked as they stepped into the clearing.

She sighed. ‘Of course. I know my sister wants her. I suppose I was angry and not wanting to give the statue away because I wanted to punish my sister for not returning to us.’

His eyebrows slanted to a V and he shook his head. ‘If the rocks are as you say they are, I think the most punishment would be to give them to her. I wouldn’t like to receive a crate of broken rocks. By the time I get them to her, she might realise her mistake.’

She shook her head. ‘Not Melina. These rocks... She whispered of them day and night.’

Thessa walked the rubble, looking, kicking aside smaller stones. Finally she stopped. ‘I really am not certain, but I think it is under where I stand now.’ She pointed to a boulder. ‘The three of us rolled that as her headstone.’

Stepping so close he could scent the spiced air that flowed around her, he thrust the shovel into the dirt.

‘Careful,’ she said, her hand shooting out, resting on his arm. Even through the coarse cloth of his shirt, she could feel the muscles. Quickly, she pulled her hand away. ‘She’s near the surface.’

He used the shovel more to push earth aside than to dig and in seconds he revealed a torso.

‘She’s...not wearing a dress?’

‘No.’

He turned to her, tilting up one side of his lips. ‘She might be worth more than I thought.’

‘Dig,’ she said.

The shovel slipped. He gave a shake of his head and looked up at her, apology in his eyes. ‘I broke off a sliver of nose.’

‘I would not care at all, except she does look like our mother.’ Thessa knelt beside him and used her hand to clean more dirt from the face. She pulled her hand away and stared. ‘I know Mana was beyond others in good appearance. Father loves beauty. He would never, ever marry a woman who didn’t appeal to an artist’s eyes. Art. Not one piece of it is worth one moment of my mother’s sadness.’ She looked at Benjamin. ‘If the stone in the ground did not have my mother’s face, I would take a chisel to it myself if I thought my father wanted it. But I cannot destroy my mother’s face.’ She looked at him and her voice faded into the wind. ‘And you broke her nose.’

‘I did not mean to, Thessa.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘It was an accident. There are men who can restore these statues.’

‘I understand. But it is rock. Hard on the inside as well as outside. Do not worry that you hurt her. Men made her and then they let her fall to the ground alone.’ As her father had done to her mother, quoting poetry and speaking of devotion, and then ignoring her for days while he painted. And finally leaving, with sadness in his words, but his eyes looking to the ship and his steps quick. It was better not to love than to live with a man who didn’t care enough to stay. Statues could be restored. Hearts could not.

Benjamin crouched, one hand moving the dirt, then he brushed back a lock of his hair and left a smudge high on his cheek. His shoulder brushed hers. His coat held a scent she recognised from when she’d walked on board a vessel to tell her father goodbye. Pine, from the material they used to waterproof the boat.

He studied the carving, then her face, and she stilled. She knew he compared the two and rose to increase the distance between them. He stood, wiped his hand across the duck trousers he wore and carefully put a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up to his. ‘You are many times the loveliness of her.’

His eyes moved, tightening as he studied her face.

Wind danced around them, as if spirits caressed them with their breaths, and the air caused shivers on her arms.

He released her face, but the breezes kept tousling his hair.

‘No one could compare the two of you, though. You’ve the dark gift of the islands and skin as flawless as perfectly crafted marble. The statue should be of you.’

‘No.’ She shook her head, shuddering. ‘I want nothing to do with art. It lies.’

‘Perhaps.’ He didn’t smile. Silenced lengthened. ‘But a statue of you would be no lie.’

She wanted to brush away the smudge on his face, but to touch his skin could be dangerous and she must remain true to Stephanos in all ways. She was betrothed to him—a man of her own heritage. One who shared the same soil she had always walked on. Even though Stephanos made his own sea voyages, he never stayed long, and called the same land home that she did. His relatives lived on Melos. He would never desert his children.

‘You must wipe the dirt from your face,’ she instructed, stepping back, pulling herself from his captivation.

He brushed at his face, not taking away the smudge at all. Completely missing it.

She firmed her lips, but her fingertips softened. She wanted to touch him, but could not be so bold. His hand reached out to move the spot away again, but still he did not dislodge it.

‘Stop,’ she said and grasped the sleeve of his coat, enclosing his wrist under her hand, but keeping the barrier of the fabric between them. She guided him to smooth the dirt away. He stilled, as if she had him in some kind of spell, and when his eyes changed, something in them tumbled into her. He no longer looked like a man, but had the innocence of a boy in his eyes.

He turned his face away, and pulled his arm free. He studied the ground with the half-exposed bloodless face looking up at him.

‘I must have the treasure.’ He spoke softly. ‘The treasure.’ He took a breath. ‘That is what I am here for.’

She shivered at the intensity in his voice. ‘You will have the statue if you bargain for her,’ she said. ‘No one here wants her or they could have taken her long ago.’ Thessa leaned forward. ‘She’s rock. Broken and marked with scars. Worthless.’

His smile only tilted at one corner. ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. To me she is priceless. She is the coin I need to buy my...world. My world of the sea. I’ll have my dreams if I get her. My brothers will know I am not the infant they remember.’

She turned and knelt at the stone face, trailing her fingertips over the marble, feeling the indentation at the chin, the jagged part of the nose.

He closed the distance between them.

She could feel him every time he stood beside her just as if he touched her, and yet he didn’t.

‘I know you are curious of England,’ he said. ‘I know you wonder what is so good about it that your sister doesn’t leave. That she sends gifts instead of returning.’

‘I am curious of death, too. But I’ve no wish to die.’ And her mother’s grave was on the island. Who would tend it if not her and Bellona, and if they went to England, they would be deserting her as their father did.

‘You must meet Stephanos.’ She put the slightest emphasis on her betrothed’s name and the captain’s eyes flickered in acknowledgement.

‘I would like nothing more,’ he said. Then he looked away and she could hear a smile she could not see. ‘Perhaps I should have said, there are few things I would like more.’

‘You must watch what you say around him.’

He turned so she could see his face again. ‘I suppose. I suppose I should take care, especially if I want the woman.’

Her chest heated when he said woman and even though he looked completely away from her, she could feel him watching.

Chapter Six

Stephanos’s home looked little different than the others he’d seen, two stories with the lower one used as a barn. Chickens pecking and a goat chasing another.

He heard a hammer, and when he scanned the area, saw the bare wood of an unfinished structure that Thessa would some day live in. Windowpanes had not been added.

The new house wasn’t as large as the town house Benjamin owned with his brothers, but in the setting of the gnarled trees and dusty earth it would have a grandness when finished.

‘That is the home Stephanos is building for me. He will be there,’ Thessa said, then lowered her voice. ‘And do not think, because he does not speak your language, that he does not understand. He talks as he wishes. His father supplied goods to the vessels in the harbour, and now Stephanos does the same, and sometimes they sail for what they need. When it is festival time, he tells such tales of what he’s seen and heard, but says no place lives in his heart like Melos.’

A man stepped out of the new doorway, his form lessening the size of the opening by comparison.

He wore a turban head covering, which flowed down to wrap loosely around his neck. His clothing was rough woven and worn to slide with his body. His boots, high to the knees, could have been made by the same man who cobbled Benjamin’s. No waistcoat, just a colourful sash looped twice around his waist. Benjamin instantly noted the handle sticking from the band of fabric. Both men carried their knife in a similar fashion, only Ben’s was in a sheath.

Stephanos took long strides towards Thessa, unhurried, but full of purpose.

The Greek’s eyes stayed on Thessa, but Benjamin had no illusions that the man didn’t see him. Stephanos didn’t stop until he stood close enough to reach out a hand, touching Thessa’s shoulder.

‘Oraios.’ Stephanos’s lips turned up and his eyes rested on Thessa, and lingered.

Benjamin didn’t know what feelings Thessa had for the Greek, but the man’s stance near her reminded him of a rooster preening around a hen. Ben couldn’t blame Stephanos; he was fortunate indeed to be born in Thessa’s world and be the one rooster to catch her eye.

‘I bring this ship captain to you.’ Thessa spoke in English to her betrothed. ‘My sister has sent him back for the things she left behind. She misses our home, but cannot return because she is to have a child.’

Stephanos answered, his words splattering into air. Benjamin didn’t understand more than a few Greek phrases, but he understood the underlying hint of derision. Thessa spoke again. This time her voice soothed in the native language. Calm words. Gentle. Direct.

Then the Grecian turned to Benjamin, his words more fluid than the sea. His tone remained companionable, but his eyes narrowed, and Benjamin knew no friendship was offered.

Benjamin refused to say he didn’t understand, but instead turned to Thessa and flicked his brows upwards.

‘He offers you hospitality, hopes to help you with your needs so you can be on your way quickly,’ Thessa translated, rushing the sentence.

All those words could not have been quite the same neat package Thessa presented him with, but they would do.

‘I too wish to leave soon, though the beauty of the harbour is rare.’ He thought of Thessa’s face. But he didn’t want to lose the cargo waiting in Blackwall and wanted the feeling of owning his own bed, his own world. Staying long on Melos would not do him well.

A hint of redness touched her cheeks. Stephanos said something else and she grimaced, but the frown was the result Stephanos desired because his laugh bellowed out.

White-hot sparks burst into Benjamin’s thoughts. He’d never felt this kind of jealousy. He knew the emotion. On his first voyage, he’d been jealous of the seamen who knew everything there was to know about sailing. He’d been envious when he’d seen a particularly handsome sailing vessel—before Ascalon. But jealousy concerning a woman—an unthinkable emotion for weak minded men.

The stirrings of the unfamiliar feeling hit him in the stomach and anger flared towards Stephanos. The man was a dandy. Granted, not a Brummell version, but all the same, a dandy.

And he had a slashing scar which began above his eyebrow and moved into his hairline. Completely unbecoming and likely from some drink-sodden frivolity gone awry which he turned into a tale of bravery to impress Thessa.

Stephanos waved a hand towards a stone wall, uncompleted, and with stacks of rocks near each side of it, gesturing Benjamin to follow.

Just inside the low wall that would surround the new house, Benjamin saw a rough table, with planked boards for seating. Trees, not big enough for true shade, gave the illusion of coolness.

‘Poto.’ Stephanos raised his hand. His words, while not loud, carried to someone Benjamin couldn’t see until a head darted from the doorway of the smaller house.

Stephanos took Thessa’s hand, leading her, and guided her to a seat.

Thessa spoke to Stephanos in Greek, reproof in her tone. He laughed and his eyes crinkled at the edges. His head leaned towards her and he said a few soft words, and a blush spread on her cheeks.

Then he turned to Benjamin and perused him. Stephanos’s cheeks puffed, probably because of the thin line of his lips.

Thessa spoke again and the man’s eyes met her face, though his attention had never really left her. She gestured, her arm going towards the harbour.

Stephanos shook his head.

Thessa’s eyes narrowed and the speed of her speech increased. Her voice became more intent. While she talked, rapidly, the man placed his fingertips at Thessa’s arm and the fingers tightened.

‘Polyagapimenos.’ He looked into Thessa’s eyes and spoke the word as if they were alone—an endearment.

Benjamin could feel a grinding in his stomach, and a sudden need for movement, but he forced himself to sit silent and appear unconcerned.

Stephanos spoke again, words quiet and effectively shutting Benjamin out of conversation. Even if the words had been shouted Benjamin couldn’t have understood, but Stephanos knew that well. Then he reached out and brushed back a tendril of hair from Thessa’s brow, one wisp so small the invisible lock could not have distressed her. And his hand lingered, then fell away.

Benjamin felt something crack within him and anger began to war with the good sense in his body.

Thessa was going to be married to the man. But the display of possession was not necessary.

Stephanos’s gaze locked on Benjamin’s and he spoke, but the words were more measured, slow drops in a pail, not the rapid spraying to confuse.

Thessa took a moment before translating. ‘He wishes you to spend the night here. He wants you to have his hospitality, though you will soon be leaving. And discuss the transaction of the stone.’

Her eyes didn’t match her words. And Benjamin had heard tales of the area. And not just the myths or the legends of the women, but of men who could fight until the last drop of blood had been drained. Looking into Stephanos’s eyes, he decided the stories he’d heard had not been yarns. Enjoying the Greek’s hospitality would not be healthy or wise. Ben knew he would stay on Ascalon.

Benjamin felt his chest expand with his breath. ‘I need to discuss the purchase, so my men can begin digging.’

Stephanos spoke, his dark eyes never leaving Benjamin’s face. Benjamin had observed more pleasant looks on the faces of men who’d tried to gut him with a blade. He knew, though, that the man wasn’t thinking of violence. Instead, he was fluffing his feathers for Thessa and doing a little blustering dance.

‘He feels a guest should not have to dig and he wishes to see what is so important to you that you would sail so far to collect,’ Thessa translated.

Benjamin put his forearm on the table, aware of the strain to the sleeve fabric of his coat that stretching his muscles could bring. He would wager his feathers were as bright as Stephanos’s.

Benjamin answered Thessa, but his eyes met Stephanos. ‘It is an old stone with a woman’s face and women can be so sentimental. My brother is besotted with Melina, who wants the stone as a memory of her homeland. My brother’s mind is not clear, so he thinks the folly of my retrieving it will endear him to his new wife. A quest of the heart, if you will.’

Benjamin might—might—have thought Stephanos didn’t understand him, but at the mention of the heart quest, Stephanos’s pupils ascended upwards in a quick dart to show his feelings of such a journey.

‘My brother,’ Benjamin continued, ‘near puts rose petals at his wife’s feet. Sings of his love to her standing under her window at night. Composes poetry for her at all hours of the day. It is the way a true man of my country treats his beloved.’

Well, Warrington had married Melina and he surely had time for the Byron-and-flowers nonsense since a man’s eyes didn’t always close when his head hit the pillow.

Thessa watched Benjamin. She opened her mouth to translate. He continued before she could speak.

‘In fact, she has complained of her fingertips being tired of his kisses. It is such a sincere love. Made all the sweeter by the flavour of her culture that Melina brings to the household. Having a mix of the two worlds makes her all the more fascinating. Even I would never have imagined how the English and Greek could blend to bring the best of each to life. A woman with such a history is a rare discovery, a treasure for an Englishman.’ Benjamin’s gaze flicked to Thessa and back to her Stephanos.

Benjamin knew diplomacy was more important than challenge, but something else had controlled him in that half second, and the primitive urge to taunt Stephanos kept rising up.

Stephanos’s eyes narrowed. Then he spoke slowly to Thessa, each word a sentence in meaning from the way he bit down on it.

She turned to Benjamin, her words slow. ‘The price on the statue just increased since it is so valuable to the English.’

Benjamin kept his tone soft. ‘It is of little consequence to me if I decide not to purchase it. I don’t need a basket of rocks.’ That wasn’t entirely true. But from watching Stephanos’s face, he had no doubt that the man could understand English quite well. ‘Rocks are nothing compared to the beauty of heaven-sent treasures around us.’ Benjamin had no trouble letting his gaze rest on Thessa when he said the words.

‘Since I will not leave quickly with the rocks,’ he continued, ‘I will stay longer and enjoy the natural beauty of the island.’ And no matter if he’d be surrounded by blades on all sides, Thessa did capture his eyes.

Stephanos stood and shouted out two names, and men from inside the new structure stepped outside.

Movement ignited around him.

One man stood no bigger than Benjamin’s shoulder and Benjamin estimated him to be all wiry muscle. The slighter ones could be asp-like in their movements and hard to grasp. His clothes, well patched, paired well with his face, which also had been mended a few times. The young one stood taller and wider, and he dressed more with the bloom of youthful pomp.

Benjamin would gauge the older one the most dangerous.

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