Saved by My Blackguard (Linked Across Time Book 1) Page 3
“Tell me?” His voice took on a husky tone as he leaned in closer to her.
Evelyn stepped back and grinned. “Space. All I need is what you’ve already granted me, freedom to explore the ship and the same once we dock in Port Royal.”
It had been too easy to suck him in. Perhaps he did desire her in truth. Evelyn wanted more than the pirate had to offer. She wanted love and stability. He gave off a menacing aura. Jack was a pirate—a fact of life—but she rather liked him. He lived by his own code of ethics and she respected him. He wasn’t the man she needed in her life though.
“You’re a wicked lass messing with a man.” He shook his head. “Where did an innocent learn such a trick?”
She shrugged. “I’m a quick study.”
“I do love your wit and quick thinking.” He chuckled. “I will give you that. Go explore the ship. We’ll continue this discussion later.”
Evelyn nodded and headed out of the cabin. None of the pirates stopped to ask her what she was doing. As she walked across the deck she could see land in the distance. Captain Jack hadn’t lied. They would be sailing into a harbor soon. She went to the railing and tilted her head back, basking in the sun’s warmth. A rumble of thunder echoed through her ears. Her eyes fluttered open and she caught sight of dark clouds heading toward the ship. A bolt of lightning struck the water. The wind began to pick up and waves crashed against the ship’s hull. Where had this sudden storm come from?
“Batten down the hatches,” a call came down from the crow’s nest. “Storm is heading our way.”
“Raise the masts,” Captain Morgan shouted. “We need to try to beat the storm and anchor in Port Royal before it hits.”
Evelyn stared at them all in shock. She was still confused how the storm had managed to sneak up on them. It came out of nowhere. The wind whipped against her as she watched the pirates gear the ship for a different kind of battle. The sea could be more devastating than an angry adversary. The wind was strong and they managed to use it to their advantage as they closed the distance between them and the island. They would make it. Evelyn had to remain patient and not give into her worry.
“You,” an angry voice said from behind her. “This is your fault. I told the captain it was bad luck to bring a woman on board. Maybe if I sacrifice you to Davy Jones’s locker the fate’s will forgive us and let the Siren Song make it to shore.”
“What?” Evelyn turned, baffled, at the sight of Percy. “I didn’t do this.”
Superstitious men couldn’t be reasoned with though. He shoved her hard and she tumbled over board. The waves sucked her under and she swallowed sea water. For the first time in her life she was thankful for her father’s tutelage. It was at his instance she had learned how to swim. She pulled up her billowing skirts and wrapped them as best she could into the ribbon around her waist as she kicked to remain afloat. Then she swam toward shore, letting the waves carry her when she could to save her strength. Thank God, they were close to shore otherwise she wouldn’t stand a chance.
Evelyn got into the shallower water of the beach and floated the waves to shore. She crawled onto the beach spitting out salt water. The storm raged on and grew in strength as she lay on the beach trying to get enough energy to find shelter. If Percy had shoved her off the boat any later she wouldn’t have made it. The waves were getting higher and higher as they headed toward the beach.
This was a bad storm and she might still die if she didn’t get off the beach. Evelyn tried to push herself to her feet, but it was futile. The swim to shore had drained her. Her skirts had come lose and were falling again around her ankles. They were soaked through and heavy. Think Evelyn, think. What could she do? Where could she go?
“There you are. Why didn’t you stop?”
She looked up into the blue eyes of a man she’d never seen before. He had an odd accent, that she couldn’t place and his clothes were equally peculiar. His pants had been sheared up to his thighs, and he wore a white unbuttoned shirt over another undershirt. She should be scandalized, but she was too tired to bother. “What?” she asked baffled.
He winced and held his head between his hands. The man appeared to be in excruciating pain as he rubbed his temples. “I called for you. You kept running.” He lowered his hands and looked around him. It was his turn to appear confused. “How did I end up on the beach again? Where is the hotel? How far did I wander on my hike?”
“Are you lost?”
That was all she needed, a man who didn’t know where he was. What good would he do? They needed shelter from the storm that was growing in intensity with each passing minute.
“I might be, but I think we have more pressing problems.”
She glared at him and said, “Thanks for stating the obvious.”
He laughed. “I think I like you. Come, I will help you up. I know where there is a cave we can take shelter from the storm.”
She lifted her arm and placed her hand in his. Maybe she wouldn’t die this day after all. Someone was looking out for her. The man wrapped his arm around her waist and supported her as they rushed into the lush jungle toward the cave.
“I’m Paul, by the way.”
“Just Paul?”
He grinned. She sucked in a breath. She’d thought Captain Jack handsome, but this man beat him in every way. His dark hair and light blue eyes stole her attention. It was the first time she truly looked at him and his striking exterior. Before that moment, survival was her foremost concern. What was it with handsome men falling into her life? Was this some kind of test and she had no idea what she needed to do to pass?
“Paul Dewitt,” he replied. “I am on vacation. I live in New York. From your accent I assume you’re English. What should I call you?”
They hadn’t been formally introduced so she shouldn’t technically be speaking to him at all. But she could forgive him that slight considering their dire circumstances. “I’m Lady Evelyn Beckett.”
“One of those aristocrats?” He shrugged. “I thought they were a dying breed.”
Evelyn frowned. She didn’t have a clue what he was referring to. “I wouldn’t know. Can we find this cave now? I need to rest.”
He nodded and pushed forward. The wind whipped around them growing in strength. Each movement was a struggle as they fought their way against the wind force. Soon the cave’s opening was in front of them, and not a moment too soon. They entered and he helped her sit down.
“Relax, Lady Evelyn,” he said in the darkness. “I think we’re going to be here a while, waiting out this storm.”
She was very much afraid he was right. But at least she was safe and alive. With a sigh, she laid down and let her exhaustion take over. Her eyes closed on their own accord and all thoughts left her mind as she gave into her need to sleep.
SAVED BY MY BLACKGUARD
CHAPTER FOUR
Paul scrubbed his hands over his face. It had grown dark as the storm raged outside the cave. He couldn’t see anything around him. If he only he had some kind of light so he could look at his watch—he was dying to know how long they’d already been stuck inside the cavern. Lady Evelyn hadn’t said a word in what felt like hours. He could hear her uneven breathing, and her breath hitched every so often when her body shivered from the cold. If they didn’t find any warmth soon she might get hypothermia. The cold was starting to bother him too. He rubbed his hands together trying to warm them, and then gave up. They were practically numb so he shoved them inside his short’s pocket. His fingers hit an object he’d forgotten about—a matchbook from the hotel he’d snatched earlier in the day. How had its existence slipped from his mind? Those little babies might save them both. Only one problem stood in his way. Something to use to build a fire with… He moved toward the front of the cave and what little light entered it. There was some brush and sticks at the mouth. He gathered up what he could, along with some small stones to make a fire pit. It wouldn’t last long, but it was a start. It would give him some light to work by too. Maybe he could
find some larger pieces of dry wood if his luck held out.
His fingers shook as he lit one of the matches to light the brush and small sticks he located. The brush lit quickly and the sticks weren’t far behind. Warmth started to fill the cavern. Not enough to erase the chill, but still nice after the constant cold the wind brought into the cavern.
Paul stared down at the fire, satisfied it would stay burning he went to gather more small sticks to throw on the fire as it died down. Paul made several trips and had a stockpile of sticks near the fire to use as needed. He looked over at Evelyn. Her dress was still soaking wet and she continued to shiver. It left him with little choice. The dress had to be removed or she’d never get warm.
He began the long process of unlacing her gown. Why was she wearing the infernal thing to begin with? It had to be uncomfortable. Women and their fashion choices always baffled him. The desire to wear an old-fashioned gown didn’t make any kind of sense to him. There were garments that were more comfortable and could still be feminine. She didn’t need to wear something so archaic to feel like a woman. Maybe there had been some kind of period reenactment drama or party going on. He didn’t explore much of the island and hadn’t looked past the beach and his hotel room since he arrived.
The dress finally came loose. Evelyn moaned as he pushed the bodice down. He had to lift her up so he could take it completely off. Her head lopped backward onto his shoulder. Poor thing was completely exhausted. He felt like a cad undressing her while she was unconscious. It couldn’t be helped though. She’d freeze if he didn’t get the wet clothes off her. Once he removed the dress he laid her back down. His undershirt was a little wet, but it would dry fast. He took his other shirt off and draped it over her sleeping form. It was thin, but would offer a small amount of warmth. She had too many clothes on. What was with all the underclothes she had on? Everything she wore was still damp and prevented her from getting warm. He laid her dress on the other side of the cave near the fire to dry.
Evelyn moaned again. Paul turned around to check on her. She shook uncontrollably. He had to do something to help warm her. He rushed over to her side and picked her up, then carried her closer to the fire. With her nestled in his arms he sat down with her directly in front of him. Her head fell back and rested against his shoulder. Paul wrapped his arms around her and used the combination of their body heat and the fire to warm her.
“Easy sweetheart, it won’t take long for you to get warm,” he whispered. He hoped and prayed she made it through the storm. He wouldn’t know what to do if she died on him… he didn’t even want to think about.
He picked up a few more sticks and tossed them into the fire while he studied it. After a few moments after making sure it would burn for a while so he rested his head against the cavern wall and let his eyes close. He could use a bit of sleep himself.
***
She was finally warm. The cold had gotten so bad it seemed to seep into her bones and made itself a home. Evelyn’s eyes fluttered open. It took a few moments for them to clear from the haze of sleep. A small fire was in front of her, probably adding to her warmth. Awareness filled her senses in slow degrees. She took in her surroundings, all the sounds, and sights. It was then she realized she was wrapped in someone’s arms and screamed.
“Was that really necessary?” A droll voice uttered from behind her.
Evelyn leaped from his arms and almost fell into the fire. Her arms swung outward to help gain her balance. It would be disastrous to add burns to her already bruised body.
“Easy, sweetheart. I didn’t work so hard to save you for you to die of self-inflicted burns.”
“Who are you?” She scooted to the other side of the cavern and crossed her arms over her chest, after she realized she no longer wore her muslin gown. “Did you undress me?”
She could barely make out his features in the firelight. He was handsome and familiar, but she couldn’t place him. How did she know him? Her body warmed as she perused him. It tingled in places it never had before. The man was gorgeous, but clearly a blackguard for taking advantage of her while she slept.
“Relax, I’m not going to attack you.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “It’s been a long day, and it is well into the night. I don’t know how long this storm is going to last, and I’d rather not deal with a histrionic female.”
“I will have you know I by no means ever give into hysteria.” She held her chin up in defiance. Her father never would have allowed it. She was to be a proper lady at all times, with a calm and cool demeanor. “But I will not stand for a man I’m not remotely acquainted with seeing me in my shift. What did you do with my gown?”
“I already introduced myself if you recall. We’re on a first name basis.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Look Evie, I don’t know how I came to find you. The last thing I remember before I saw you on the beach was falling to my death outside this cave. It’s why I knew where to find it. Nothing has made sense since I stumbled upon you. All I want to do is ride out this storm and book the first flight home. This vacation has to be the worst one ever recorded.”
She tilted her head and studied him. Was he insane? That made things a little different. She would have to give him a wide berth. It was hard to tell what someone who’d lost their mind might do. Book a flight? How did he expect to fly anywhere? Everyone knew that was impossible. Clearly he’d taken leave of his senses. She might be able to forgive him taking liberties with her person—but she doubted it.
“Have you escaped from an asylum?” She glared at him. “And my name is not Evie.”
“All right. But since you don’t recall my name let me remind you. I’m Paul Dewitt.” He shrugged and laughed. “Explain this nonsense you are spouting? Are you insinuating I’m insane?”
How dare he mock her? She wasn’t the one losing her mind.
“Everyone knows you can’t fly. If you want to get anywhere it has to be by horse, carriage, or ship.”
He fell over in uproarious laughter. What had she said that was so bloody funny? She wasn’t the ridiculous one. She didn’t suggest they could fly anywhere.
“I don’t know why you are laughing, but I’m tired of it. If you can’t have a reasonable and normal conversation at least stop rolling around as if you heard a joke. I don’t find any of this funny.”
“Oh sweetheart, you wouldn’t.” He wiped the corners of his eye. “Please tell me you’ve seen a plane. They are more than capable of flying us anywhere we want to go.”
She had no idea what he was referring to. “You’re serious?”
“Lady, it’s 1987. Planes have been a reality since the Wright brothers first flew at Kitty Hawk in 1903.” He shrugged. “They’ve come a long way since that first flight, but they are commonplace these days. How have you not seen one?”
She opened her mouth and closed it several times. How does one respond to that? He clearly had a very active imagination. Whoever these Wright brothers were, they must be geniuses to build such a contraption. What was she thinking entertaining his delusions? She shook her head to clear that rubbish away. He thought it was 1987 and these brothers flew in 1903. She had to tell him he was misinformed.
“You’re wrong.”
“I assure you I’m not.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not 1987. It’s not even close to 1903. Why would you believe it was?”
“Because I was born in 1958 and I will be 30 in less than 3 months. I flew over here on one of those planes because my doctor ordered me to take a vacation or I’d have a heart attack before my birthday. I agreed to humor him since he is a family friend.”
His delusion went further than she thought. The poor man. “I’m afraid I must inform you it is in fact, the year of our lord, 1722.”
He started to chuckle so hard he had trouble breathing. His penchant for laughter was starting to irritate her. Why did he find everything she said so damned funny.
“It all makes sense now,” he spat out. “Your dress, the storm,
and even not remembering how I ended up on the beach. I’ve died and this is my hell.”
“I seriously doubt God would punish us both with the same hell. I don’t even know you, or how you ended up here, but I can assure you we are both very much alive. I didn’t fight so hard to make it to land to give in now.”
“Why do you believe it is 1722?”
“Because I was born at the start of the century on December 17, 1700. My father is the Earl of Ashland and owns a plantation on St. Kitts. I was sailing, with my maid, back to England to marry the Duke of Southington when our ship was attacked by pirates. When the storm hit, one of them thought I had caused it and threw me overboard. If we’d not been so close to shore I wouldn’t have survived.”
It was his turn to open and close his mouth. He stared at her with a baffled expression on his face. He stayed silent for several minutes, picking up a few sticks and tossing them on the fire.
“I can prove I’m from 1987. Can you prove you’re from 1722?”
“Other than my clothing I have nothing,” she replied. “What do you have that would prove you’re not from my time?”
He lifted his hand and tapped at something on his wrist. “This is a Rolex. Do you know what that is?”
She shook her head. Part of it was shiny and glinted in the firelight. The other part wrapped around his wrist, the band was perhaps leather. “I don’t believe so.”
“These weren’t even available until 1905. It is a watch, a fancy one. This doesn’t prove that I’m from 1987, but it does prove I’m not from 1722. I have one other thing that will aid my case.”
She wanted to look closer at his watch. It looked fascinating, but she didn’t ask. What other proof did he have? This was all rather fascinating. “What?”
Paul reached into his pocket and pulled something out. He leaned over and handed it to her. “Don’t drop this. It is one of the things we need to survive through this storm. The other is food and water. When the storm lessens I will look for something to eat or drink.”