The Midnight Man by Charlotte Mede

Author:Charlotte Mede
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Although he didn’t visit the cabin over the next day, Helena was as nervous as a schoolgirl. Quickly regaining her strength on a sailor’s rations, she spent her time reading, recovering, and worrying.

Her presence had placed the entire ship in jeopardy. Unforgivable. Her father had always told her she’d been born under a black cloud, trailing chaos and drama in her wake.

To ensure the safety of his men, Ramsay had jettisoned most of the supplies, keeping only basic biscuits and beef jerky, which he’d randomly sampled himself to ensure its harmlessness. He was an unusual man, she was quickly learning.

Gathering up her cloak, she wondered for the tenth time who would try to kill her and why. She tied the toggles at her throat more tightly than necessary, her frustration growing as she wrestled with the specter of the Bishop of London and his Machiavellian machinations. He needed her alive, preferably certifiably insane and stowed away in Bedlam, at which point he would legally assume control of her fortune.

She was no good to him dead.

The ship tilted and turned into the wind, signaling that land was not far off. She wanted to catch a glimpse of Cape Verde on the horizon, her hunger to see terra firma almost as acute as her desire to see Nicholas Ramsay again.

She got her wish on deck.

With salt spray stinging her cheeks, she watched the faint traces of land slip over the horizon into her field of vision. Every hand seemed to be aloft to hasten the Flying Cloud’s race toward Santiago, every inch of canvas unfurled. She tried to stay out of the way, the shouted commands ringing in her ears like a foreign language. Looking up to the rigging above still made her dizzy, but her eyes locked on a dark-haired man, his breeches and shirt hugging his body in the high winds, scrambling over the bow rigging as he climbed the swinging ropes.

It was all she needed. Her breath stuck in her throat and she clung to a post mounted on the ship for fastening ropes. She recognized immediately the familiar athletic movements, the seamlessly coordinated muscle, sinew, and bone as Ramsay effortlessly ascended the rigging, his eyes squinting against the sun. If she had to, and she wanted to, she could draw the powerful arms and long, muscled legs blind, the broad shoulders that led to a narrow waist and hips that now straddled the rigging with unconscious grace. He was suspended in a canvas of empty sea and sky, an image that would be forever frozen in her mind’s eye no matter what happened or how long she lived.

She didn’t stop to analyze her stunning response to the man. While she wouldn’t precisely trust him, she would simply take what he could give her with a ravenous appetite to make up for all the years of deprivation. Here was an opportunity for her to overcome her fears, to release the demons that for so long had kept her shackled better than any straitjacket ever could.

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