Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)(20)

“We were young. And stupid.”

“Maybe so, but we were great. We sailed the fastest ship on the Atlantic. The Aphrodite captured more prize than any other privateer in service of the Crown, and we didn’t do it by playing safe.” Gray put a hand on Joss’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “The war’s over. And I don’t need to tell you how much of that money’s sunk into this venture. We have to conquer honest trade now. We have to chase success with everything we’ve got.”

“We? What’s all this talk of ‘we’? When did that word enter your vocabulary?” Joss shrugged off his hand.

“When did you become such an insufferable ass? It’s always been ‘we.’We were supposed to be full partners, until you changed your mind.”

“Oh, are we going to tally broken promises now? Be my guest, but I’m warning you … I don’t think that’s an argument you want to start.”

Gray took a slow breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “What’s past is past. I’ve done what I can on my own, but now we have to make this work. We owe it to Bel. And to Jacob.”

“I see. It’s your money, but it’s our obligation.” Joss shrugged off Gray’s hand. “Don’t presume to tell me what I owe my own son. I’ll be damned if I’ll take lessons on family duty from you.”

Gray stared at his brother. Their father’s ears aside, he scarcely recognized Joss anymore. When he wasn’t cutting the pitiful figure of a mourning widower, he was being a downright prick. Why couldn’t he see this was all for the good of the family? That Gray had worked all these years, assumed all these risks—for him and Bel, and now Jacob?

“Miss Turner may be a sweet-looking lass,” Joss said, “but you’ve got to look the other direction. Aside from my responsibility as captain to guard her personal safety, I can’t afford the melodrama that accompanies your affaires, Gray. You know full well what it’ll do to the crew if they know you’re bedding her under their noses. And what happens when you tire of her?

Need I remind you of the French captain’s widow? That incessant wailing did wonders for shipboard morale.”

“Perhaps I won’t tire of her,” Gray protested, just to be contrary. Because, apparently, that was how brothers behaved.

“Perhaps a dolphin will fly out of your arse. And here’s an argument even you can’t refute. Grayson Shipping doesn’t need a reputation for delivering damaged goods. You want me to hand George Waltham an impregnated governess?”

“I wouldn’t get her with child. Give me that much credit, at least.”

“I give you credit for nothing. Let’s try this one last time, shall we? You made me this ship’s captain. If I’m the captain, what I say goes. And I say you don’t touch her. If you can’t abide by my orders, take command of the ship yourself and let me go home.”

“Go home and do what? Squander your fortune and talent on dirt farming?”

“Go home and take care of my own family. Go home and do what I damn well please, for once.”

Cursing, Gray leaned against the wall. He knew Joss would make good on that threat, too. It hadn’t been easy, coaxing his brother out of mourning. Gray had resorted to outright bullying just to convince him to take command of the Aphrodite, threatening to cut off his income unless he reported to London as agreed. But he needed Joss, if this shipping concern was to stay afloat. He’d worked too hard, sacrificed too much to see it fail. And if Joss didn’t become a willing partner, it all would have been in vain.

“Stay away from the girl, Gray.”

Gray sighed. “We’re on the same ship. I can’t help but be near her. I’ll not promise to refrain from touching her either, because the girl seems to lose her footing whenever I’m around. But I give you my word I’ll not kiss her again. Satisfied?”

Joss shook his head. “Give me your word you won’t bed her.”

“What a legend you’re making me! Insinuating I could bed her without even kissing her first.” Gray worried the edge of his thumbnail as he considered. “That might prove an amusing challenge, now that you suggest it.”

Joss shot him an incredulous look.

“With some other lady, on some other ship.” Gray raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’ll not bed her. You have my word. And don’t think that’“It’s not a great sacrifice, because it is. I’d have her in two, three days at the most, I tell you.”

“Once again—not amusing.”

“For God’s sake, Joss, it’s a joke. What do you want, an apology? I’m sorry for kissing Miss Turner’s hand, all right?”

Joss shook his head and flipped open the logbook. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” The odd thing of it was, Gray was telling the truth. He knew he was being an ass, but the joking was easier than honesty. For all his teasing, he hadn’t kissed her hand with the intent to seduce, or to judge if she tasted as sweet as he’d dreamed. He’d kissed her fingers for one reason only. Because they were trembling, and he’d wanted them to stop. It was wholly unlike him, that kiss. It was not a gesture he thought it wise to repeat. The girl did something strange to him.

Gray tried again. “I’m sorry for kissing Miss Turner’s hand.” He crossed to stand opposite his brother’s chair. “I’m sorry for arguing about the storm. I’m sorry for sacking Bains. Hell, I’ll even say I’m sorry for the goats. I’m sorry you had the great misfortune to be sired by my degenerate father, and I’m sorry you’re stuck with an equally degenerate half brother.”