Harlequin Historical February 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

  The following few days and nights blended into one as La Fortuna continued to sail across the choppy high seas. Isabel stayed in her appointed area and kept herself from the prying eyes of the seamen who had apparently never seen a woman on their ship before, which was frankly ridiculous. Not that she complained.

  Isabel had to be mindful of these limited restrictions on her person, especially after her mistake a few days ago, when she had shared fruits that were brought from La Rochelle with the men.

  It was on one of her few walks along the deck, so that Perdu could relieve himself, that she had thought to offer some portions of apples, juicy grapes and plums. Will had pulled her up on that and it still niggled when he had informed her that hardened seafaring men were used to meagre foods and not used to the luxuries of fresh fruits.

  She had only wanted to be of some use, never having had to be idle before. Really, if Will felt disinclined to be in her company then she wouldn’t insist on it. Being apart gave her time for reflection and everything that the future might bring. As the vessel sailed on, Isabel pondered about what her new life at Castle de Clancey would be like, but could think of nothing. She wished she could muster more enthusiasm for the changes everything would bring, but she just couldn’t do it.

  She felt more alone than before, particularly since Will was no longer by her side. They had barely spoken since boarding the ship. He afforded her the same courtesy as before, the same civility and care, but everything between them had changed. And once again he seemed to prefer to keep her at arm’s length, rather than allowing any further closeness between them.

  It was too late, however. Her feelings for Will were getting into deeper waters, to the point where it robbed her of the ability to think properly. It confused and frightened her as she tried in vain to ignore her feelings and push them aside.

  The truth was that Isabel missed Will and the sense of comradery that they had shared along this journey thus far. She felt heartsick every time she glimpsed at him and it didn’t help that she had lurid dreams about him every night, reliving their night of passion. She would wake in the morning in a state of confusion, hot and agitated, her body hankering for his touch.

  But mayhap he had the right of it, mayhap the best way for her to overcome these unsolicited feelings was to put as much distance between them as possible. She must do everything she could to protect herself from becoming any closer to Will. It would never do.

  She stroked Perdu, who was curled beside her as the ship jostled them about. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, to which the dog replied with a bark. ‘Yes, me, too. I wish things could be how they were before. But I’m happy to have you for company, little one.’

  The vessel continued to jolt them about in every direction, making Isabel feel a little queasy. Goodness, what was going on?

  As if in answer, she heard footsteps approaching and Will abruptly pulled the fabric screen aside.

  ‘There are dark clouds ahead, Isabel—the skipper predicts a storm!’ he said urgently. ‘Grab the rigging ropes above you and tie them around your wrists. Tightly.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Assist the seamen where I can. It’s going to get very bumpy.’

  ‘W-Will?’ she stammered. ‘Be careful.’

  He gave her a curt nod and rushed out.

  Isabel sprang into action just as the ship swayed, dipped down and jerked to the side, throwing her off balance. She grabbed the little dog as well as the line of rigging that had been extended for this very purpose and did as Will had advised, winding it around her wrist a few times and tying it tightly. She said a silent prayer for Will and the seamen who were risking their lives to keep the ship watertight—and more importantly upright—so that they could pass through it safely.

  The sea became progressively choppier and more turbulent as they tried to navigate around the eye of the storm. She could hear men shout over the gathering assault, as feet and hands pounded on the deck.

  Just then the vessel tilted suddenly, hurling Perdu out of her arms. He slipped away from her, whining in distress.

  Oh, God, no! Not the innocent little animal. She had to do something.

  Untying the rope from her wrist, she dashed after him, pulling aside the hanging fabric, her eyes darting in every direction trying to see where he had gone. Her poor little dog tried in vain to scamper back to her, but kept losing its grip on the deck. Isabel clambered after him, as the wind whipped up and the rain thrashed down, impeding her progress.

  ‘Come on boy, come back to me!’ she shouted over the din, but it was useless. Just when she had given up all hope the dog managed to scurry and paw close enough for Isabel to make a grab for him.

  ‘Oh, thank God. I’ve got you, boy,’ she muttered as she nestled her face in his fur. It was then that she noticed how far she had managed to stagger away from the stern of the boat and it was also at that very moment that Will noticed her.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he shouted over the deafening noise, the worry palpable in his voice. Before she could give him an answer the ship jerked violently, tipping sideways and thrusting her with great force in the air. She saw the look of horror flash across Will’s face before he sprang into action and dived to catch her. But the elements continued to pull her, hurling her further away.

  This new cog ship was designed with higher wooden sides, as the skipper had been proud to point out, but the force of the storm was so strong that it pushed Isabel over. She hung on to the secondary rim of the vessel with one hand, the other clutching Perdu.

  Suddenly Will was there above her, grabbing her hand. She was lucky that the ship had straightened and the seas were momentarily calmer, otherwise they would both have been swept away.

  ‘Give me both your hands, Isabel,’ he shouted.

  ‘I can’t.’ She shook her head, knowing that she couldn’t allow Perdu to perish, just so she could live.

  ‘Isabel!’ he bellowed. ‘I can’t hold on like this, for God’s sake!’

  She couldn’t let go. It went against everything she believed in to sacrifice another living being. An innocent animal. Sensing that this was not the time to press his point, Will tried another tack. He yanked her up with every ounce of strength he had and pulled her back on to the deck.

  ‘Thank God,’ he muttered, just as she had moments ago, along with an oath that she hadn’t. With one protective arm around her, Will used his body to shelter Isabel as they all staggered back to the stern of the boat, while the rest of the crew continued to battle with keeping the ship from careening off course.

  Will yanked the fabric screen back and helped her inside, her body shivering uncontrollably.

  ‘Hold on to the rigging rope,’ he insisted. ‘And you have to get out of those clothes.’ She realised then that she was soaked through, as was everything that had been left on the floor around her.

  ‘Go… I’ll…do…it…mysel—’ But she couldn’t get the words out, her fingers stiff as they fumbled to remove her clothing.

  ‘Allow me,’ he said gruffly as she tried to swat away his hands. Taking no notice of her, he started to help peel the sodden clothes off as she trembled from the cold…as well as from his touch. But then, this was quite different from the last time his hands had touched her. Isabel grappled to cover herself and turned around as Will steadied her with a hand to the shoulder. He passed her satchel to her, which was thankfully dry.

  ‘Now, if you don’t mind telling me what the devil you thought you were doing there?’

  She grabbed some clothes out of her bag and slipped on a long linen shift with her back still to him, feeling it whisper down her clammy body as she reached for her brown woollen kirtle. ‘I couldn’t let Perdu go, not if I… I could save him.’

  ‘And so you put yourself in danger instead.’

  She turned around to meet his furious gaze. ‘As yo
u did for me?’

  ‘That,’ he said curtly, ‘is not the same thing. I have a duty to protect you. For pity’s sake, Isabel, you could have been swept away!’

  ‘I know, I know. I’m sorry, Will.’

  He rubbed his forehead in obvious exasperation. ‘Don’t you realise how damn close that was?’

  ‘I do, but I had to try to save him. I couldn’t just let him wash away and drown. I just couldn’t…’

  He let out a shaky breath and pulled her against his chest, wrapping her in his embrace. ‘That was the most reckless, frightening thing you have ever done, Isabel de Clancey, not that I’m really surprised. For a moment I thought…’ He choked, unable, it seemed, to finish what he was going to say. ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again. Do you hear?’

  ‘Utterly and completely.’

  He hugged her closer. ‘Ah, Christ, woman…what you do to me.’

  ‘I’m sorry…and, Will?’ she muttered into his chest, as he looked down at her. ‘Thank you.’

  He grunted in response as a sense of calm prevailed over her, wrapped in his warm embrace. They stayed like that for a long moment, his hands sliding up and down her spine before he reluctantly let her go.

  ‘Listen, do you hear that?’ Will’s eyes widened as he looked up, his head careening round to hear something. ‘It seems as though we’ve passed through the worst of the storm.

  ‘Oh, thank God!’

  ‘I’m going to see if I’m needed. Stay here!’

  She nodded and grabbed Perdu, tying the rigging around her wrist once more. ‘See what a fix you got us both into…and it’s no use looking at me like that. The whole incident was entirely your fault…but I am so glad that I have you now,’ she said as he barked in response.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  All hands were on deck, attending to the difficult task of ridding the swell of water from the vessel. Flouting his edict to stay away, Isabel mucked in as she threw bucket after bucket of water back into the sea. With the job eventually completed, it was time to take some rest and, judging by how Isabel looked—ashen and ready to drop on her feet—she needed it. It had been just like her to insist that she help instead of getting some warmth back into her body, but then Isabel could be incredibly belligerent, as she’d once pointed out.

  Putting his arms around her so that he was able to support her weight, he guided her back to the stern and the small space beneath the aft castle.

  The rug had been removed to dry off and, in its stead, dry blankets had been strewn on the floor for Isabel’s comfort, not that she had been aware as her eyes fluttered closed and her head tipped back.

  Will gently laid her down and watched as she curled to her side, already fast asleep. He settled beside her, pulling her close, with the blanket over them, his head too weary to remember the need for caution around her.

  For both their sakes, he had purposefully kept away from her during this sea voyage, giving her the deference that her rank deserved, especially in front of these seamen, mindful of giving them the wrong impression. But, in truth, Will just didn’t trust himself around Isabel any longer. Every time he spent any length of time with her, he wanted more—nay, yearned for more. This moment now soothed away those concerns. Right now, lying beside her eased his mind and, as he held on to her, he knew he just didn’t care. Not this night.

  Not when he had almost lost her…

  Will had never been so terrified, when Isabel had been flung to the side of the boat. They had been in perilous situations along this journey, but nothing…nothing had made him feel as helpless as when he’d watched her almost topple into the sea. Instinct had made him throw himself in the air for her…but, God’s breath, it had been far too close for his peace of mind.

  It was all part of his duty, he reminded himself. Isabel’s well-being and safety came above everything. If that meant that he had to see to it personally, by holding her all night…then so be it. Besides, Will was too tired to resist her company any longer. The fight was not in him.

  * * *

  Will watched the hazy golden hues of the vivid sunrise burst through the opalescent horizon. The sea winked glimmers of light, forgiving now in its calm, temperate state, so vastly different from the angry, ferocious way it had almost devasted and swallowed them whole.

  He turned, sensing Isabel move beside him, and gave her a small smile, followed by her little dog, which took to sniffing the area. They stood side by side on the raised aft castle looking out to sea and watching the dawn break together, immensely thankful they were able to.

  She slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. ‘Are you still angry with me?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Angry, mad and above all furious.’

  ‘Oh, dear…’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘It was sheer instinct to save Perdu. I just didn’t think.’

  ‘That is admirable,’ he said. ‘But you compromised your own safety.’

  ‘I realise that.’

  ‘What you did was possibly one of the foolhardiest things that I’ve ever witnessed anyone do. It was more than even I would have done.’

  ‘You?’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘Commit foolhardy acts?’

  ‘That would be telling, Isabel.’

  ‘I cannot imagine it. You are the most sensible of men.’

  ‘Am I?’ His lips twitched at each corner. ‘One of us has to be, Isabel…and I’ve been called many things, but sensible has never been one them.’

  ‘Ah, well, what about loyal, steadfast and resolute…?’

  He inclined his head. ‘Naturally, my lady.’

  ‘As well as kind, caring and courteous.’

  ‘Dear me—’ he grinned ‘—you’re putting me to the blush.’

  ‘And above all, brave, valiant and honourable, as befits my knight.’

  Well now, how to respond?

  Much as he wanted to believe the picture Isabel had painted, the reality was far more distorted than that. Far more complicated. He wished though, that for her, he was closer to that impression.

  He raised their laced fingers and pressed a kiss to her hand. ‘I highly esteem your opinion of me, Isabel, but I’m not what you believe me to be.’

  ‘Much as I hate to contradict you, I think you are.’ She gave his hand another little squeeze. ‘You’ve just forgotten.’

  ‘No.’ He gave her a small shake of the head. ‘But I thank you all the same,’ he murmured.

  ‘Does that mean that I’m forgiven?’

  ‘I knew there was a catch for recounting my many virtues.’ He chuckled softly. ‘You, Isabel, are a confounding woman.’

  ‘Don’t forget belligerent.’

  ‘That, too.’

  They fell into a silence that was not altogether uncomfortable.

  Will turned to face her. ‘In truth, you are the most remarkable woman I have ever met with a kind heart, ready to care for everyone and everything around you.’

  She shrugged. ‘Now you’re putting me to blush.’

  ‘It’s true, every word. Now promise me that you won’t ever repeat yesterday’s recklessness.’

  ‘I give you my word, Will.’ She smiled tentatively. ‘It’s just that I’ve never had a living thing attach themselves so completely to me as Perdu has.’

  ‘I do know what that feels like,’ he nodded, recalling a long-ago memory. ‘I remember when I was a young lad, I had a little dog—the very best friend a boy could have—but I was forced to give him up when we moved to London. Like Perdu, we were always moving on.’

  Isabel remained silent, encouraging him to continue.

  ‘I remember the heartache when I had to leave him behind. So, although your dog has not been with us for long, I do understand.’

  The boy in him had found having to say farewell to his canine friend unbearable and painfully heart-wre
nching. Will recalled his stepfather thrashing him for his display of unbecoming emotion, instilling in him the valuable lesson that he should always shroud his feelings—which he did with defiance, insouciance and later with a wry sense of humour.

  ‘It must have been exciting moving around, seeing the different parts of the kingdom?’

  He shrugged. ‘We never settled anywhere that we could put down roots.’

  ‘But at least you were not separated.’

  Again, Will was reminded of the gut-wrenching pain that Isabel must have felt doing her duty by her family when they had sent her to live with her betrothed.

  Their experiences as children had been shaped by the harsh realities of the world.

  He gave her a tender smile, hoping it conveyed his compassion. ‘True, that must have been extremely arduous when you were still so young.’

  ‘It was initially, but the need to survive surpassed every other consideration. And as you know, my life in St Jean de Cole with the Meuniers was not altogether bad. It was actually quite pleasant.’

  ‘Even so, it must have been difficult.’

  She nodded. ‘When I thought about what I had lost, it was. But after time, I forgot about who I had been and turned my attention on who I was becoming—of course your arrival changed the course of all that.’ She looked a little wistful. ‘Yet, lately I have recalled more about my brothers.’

  ‘Good memories, I hope?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her eyes glazed over as though she was retrieving a small piece of her memory. ‘I realised that I missed them, Will…or rather, the boys they once were. I wish I knew the men that they became.’

  ‘I know it’s not the same, but your mother could possibly tell you about them.’

  She nodded. ‘She could…she could fill in many of the missing gaps, I hope.’

  Will sighed deeply. He, too, missed his family, friends and his old way of life. But sentiment and emotion were things he had tried to avoid, knowing they were a gateway to more misery and pain.

  ‘Unlike you, I was most eager to leave home and get away from my stepfather. And soon enough, I began squiring for Sir Percival.’