She hissed in pain. “What is it you want? I don’t have time to guess at your games. I have to get back to Dr. MacCloud.”
“I’ll just bet you do. But that great, hulking husband of yours is no good to you now, is he?” He laughed low when she sucked in a breath. “What I want is to see your fine bottom stretched over this gun. Tonight, just before the middle watch, at seven bells.’
“You’re insane, Dalton. Why? Why would you risk losing your commission for a bit of perverse pleasure?” The minute the words left her lips, Willa cursed herself for a lackwit.
She could see his teeth bared in a grin even in the shadows. “I’ve wanted you for years. Wills, Willa, doesn’t matter. Be here tonight, or I’ll make sure everyone on the ship knows you’ve been consorting with French spies.”
He turned to leave and then came back. “And after I’ve started the rumor, I’m going to find out the real reason Dr. MacCloud went into Gibraltar. Maybe both of you have something to hide.”
He left rapidly, climbing the ladders through the hatchways toward the top deck. Willa shook so hard, she collapsed against the cannon until she could collect herself. She knew she had friends on the ship who would defend her, but she could not trust Dalton not to make their lives a living hell. There was only one person aboard the ship who would not suffer from his displeasure. That was her last hope and possible downfall. She’d have to take the risk.
Cullen knew. He knew the minute Willa returned to the sick bay. Something was wrong. When had they become so close that he could read the emotions flitting across her face? After so many weeks of wedded pain, and pleasure, he suddenly felt like an old married man, as happy as an old hunting dog dozing in front of the fire. When had that happened?
His eyes were in danger of closing again in sleep when she abruptly exchanged places with the mate who had been singing to him ever since she’d stepped away.
“That’s enough, thank you, Mr. Ward. Mr. Parker could use some help with the other patients.”
“You’re not going to read to me again from that children’s book, are you?”
“It’s not really a children’s book, but, yes, children do seem to love it.”
“It’s political satire, with a huge dollop of adventure. Just the thing for bright little girls who grew up pestering their fathers with questions.”
“Just for that, Dr. MacCloud, I’m going to prop you up in your lonely hammock and force you to down some more of Poppy's beef broth.”
He groaned and flung out an arm pretending to shoo her away. When she brought several pillows to brace against his back, and he had to help her set him upright, his moans were real. “I don’t remember what happened in Gibraltar, but it must have been a helluva battle royal.” He eased up a bit more and uttered a curse beneath his breath. “There is not a place on my body that doesn’t ache.”
Willa held out a cup of the now cooled beef broth.
Cullen screwed up his face in a grimace, but dutifully accepted the broth and choked the liquid down. He handed the cup back to her and complained. “I don’t see much sympathy shining out of those gray eyes of yours.”
“Dr. MacCloud, until I know exactly why you felt compelled to seek a battering in Gibraltar, I’ll have to withhold my judgment.”
He closed his hand over hers and squeezed before giving a start in shock. “Mrs. MacCloud, your hands are freezing. Have I been unconscious so long that the Arethusa has sailed near one of the poles?”
When she leaned over him and felt his forehead with the back of her hand, he could see the pain in her eyes. He pulled her close and demanded, “Tell me what has happened, or I swear, I’ll climb out of this damned contraption and find out for myself.”
She smoothed back his hair and leaned close to his ear. “Please trust me. I’m fine. I’ll explain later.” And with that, she was gone.
The marine outside Captain Still’s door nodded to Willa and gave a brisk rap with his knuckles before turning back to her. “Has Dr. MacCloud rallied from his head injuries yet?”
Willa straightened. “Yes, but he doesn’t remember any of what happened on Gibraltar.” She knew it was important that the rest of the crew have confidence in their surgeon’s recovery. “Do any of the men who found him know anything more about what happened?”
He gave her a broad, sympathetic smile. “You’ll have to ask our Cap’n Woodall.”
Just then Captain Still came to the door with spectacles shoved atop his head. Behind him, charts were piled high on his table, with dividers lying on one of them.
The concern on his face was palpable as he shut the door behind her. “I heard Dr. MacCloud has awoken. How is he doing?”
“He’s sitting up and taking Poppy’s beef broth.” She hesitated a bit. “But he’s lost memory of how he was injured.”
“Thank you for coming to let me know…”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Willa interrupted him.
He motioned for her to take a seat while he settled in to his overstuffed chair across from her. He looked up at the last minute and remembered the spectacles perched atop his head. He folded them and put them on a chest at the side of his chair.
“Would you like some refreshment? A glass of Madeira?
Willa debated for a moment before nodding in assent. After the day she’d had, she could use the brace of a tot of wine.
“Jenkins…Mrs. MacCloud would like a glass of Madeira.” Captain Still called out to his servant who soon appeared with a tray and crystal glasses.
Willa smiled and thanked the man. She knew most Englishmen who thought life aboard a Royal Navy ship was grim had never been the guest of a frigate captain. Captains worked hard and were on call around the clock, but they were also privy to creature comforts unknown to the average citizen.
“Do you require anything else, sir?”
“No. That will be all. We do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Understood, sir” the man said, and disappeared into another part of the captain’s quarters.
Captain Still turned to Willa. “Now…tell me what’s really on your mind.”
“I fear I’m stuck on the horns of a dilemma.”
“You’re on a Royal Navy ship headed to the middle of nowhere to ultimately sail in circles around the prison of an annoying ogre who thought he could rule the world.” He paused and sipped at his glass of wine. “Aside from that, what sort of dilemma could possibly be deviling a carefree young newlywed like yourself?”
His teasing evoked a hesitant smile from Willa, a maybe-this-isn’t-as-bad-as-I-thought smile. “But you haven’t heard my tale of woe. My dilemma truly has two different horns.”
He gave her an intense look that went on so long, she suddenly feared she might be in more trouble than she thought.
“Before Madame de Santis left the ship, she came to our cabin one night when Dr. MacCloud was taking his evening walk on the top deck.”
“And you were alone?”
“Yes.”
“Had you ever been introduced to her before she came aboard the Arethusa?”
“No…which is why I was so surprised that she showed up alone and unannounced.”
“What did she want?”
“She showed me a letter she threatened to send to the Admiralty if I didn’t do as she asked.”
Until that point, Captain Still had been nodding amiably. He suddenly leaned forward in his chair, alert.
“What was in the letter?” His tone had turned sharp.
“She described an incident from the battle of Algiers, four years ago. The letter claimed that Dr. MacCloud had abandoned his station aboard the Leander. She said she’d seen him ashore near Algiers when he should have been aboard the ship, readying for casualties.”
“Did she say what he was doing when she saw him?”
“No.”
His next question caught her off-guard. “What do you think he was doing?”
“I don’t know.” Willa’s breath caught in her throat a
nd she couldn’t speak.
“Do you think he’s capable of abandoning his station without a good reason?”
Willa buried her face in her hands. “No…I don’t know.” Her answer came out in a half-muffled sob.
Captain Still pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her.
When she dabbed at her eyes and tried to collect herself, he suddenly asked, “What is the second horn?” At her quizzical look, he added, “of your dilemma?”
“Oh. They’re connected. She gave me a locket with a miniature of her aunt and asked that I deliver it to her cousin who lives on St. Helena with her English officer husband.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Yes - First Lieutenant Bernard Towle.”
Captain Still leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands. He gazed at her over the top of them a long time before leaning forward and asking in a low voice, “Do you have the locket with you?”
Willa’s skin prickled under the stares of the first watch crew on deck as she was walked back to her quarters by a marine guard. Captain Still had taken custody of the locket with its mysterious, hidden contents and had called in Captain Woodall to order a marine to stand guard outside the surgeon’s cabin until Dr. MacCloud was well enough to protect his wife.
When she’d told the captain the rest of the story, about how Dalton had threatened to expose her if she didn’t comply with his demands, he’d asked her to pretend nothing had changed. He was curious as to why Mr. Dalton had been searching through Willa’s things in the first place. Even more, he wondered what the devil the man was up to.
A look of disgust flickered across the face of the Arethusa’s captain. “Meet him as he asked tonight, but tell him I’ve put a marine at your door while your husband is incapacitated in the surgery. He won’t dare force you knowing the marine is listening and watching on the orlop deck.”
She realized a guard at her door would certainly make Dalton think twice before interfering with her again. His career in the Royal Navy would be over if he pressed her in spite of the guard and she had to go back to the captain. What he’d done was despicable, but she didn’t want to destroy a man who held such a vital position on the Arethusa. She knew Captain Still relied on his efficient management of the ship.
Cullen had talked his senior surgeon’s mate, Sam Parker, into helping him to the chair at the surgery desk where he would normally inscribe the logs he kept detailing the health of each man on the Arethusa. He smiled at Willa’s smooth, looping entries each of the days he’d been unconscious since his injuries on Gibraltar.
She’d kept the log up to date with notes on the progress of various crew members who had been under treatment the ill-fated day he went ashore. There were also careful notations each day when she checked on the progress of how her salve treatment was soothing Poppy’s rheumatism. There were notes on the effectiveness of treatments given to various men for the pox.
When he tried to think back to what had happened the day he’d ended up on Gibraltar, memories would bubble to the top of his consciousness and then disappear back down a dark hole, leaving him with a vague sense of unease mixed with urgency. He shook his head and continued looking over the logs. Suddenly, Mr. Parker was shaking his shoulders, hard. He’d fallen asleep and collapsed over the top of the heavy book he’d been reading.
“Back to bed with you, Dr. MacCloud.”
“Where is Mrs. MacCloud?”
“I imagine she’s sound asleep in your cabin at this hour.”
“Will she be all right by herself?” The vague feeling of unease had suddenly gripped him again like a seabird clinging to the rigging.
“No need for concern for your Missus on that account. Captain Still has assigned one of the marine lads outside her door till you’re back on your feet.”
Cullen sighed and murmured to his mate to thank the captain for him and then leaned back onto his swinging cot, closing his eyes in sleep.
Willa wrote in her journal while waiting for seven bells to sound before the first watch. After the jolting experience of knowing someone had gone through her private possessions, she was a little more careful of what she shared in the well-used book. Over the years she’d used both sides of all the pages as well as cross-writing in a different-colored ink. A lot of what she wrote was abbreviated to conserve even more room in the costly journals.
It was tempting to write about her mixed feelings resulting from her husband’s mysterious sortie onto Gibraltar which had ended in disaster. Added to that was the sudden, inexplicable attraction Mr. Dalton seemed to have developed for her. That she would not write about, because putting his twisted attentions into words would only give them more power.
She made her way out of the cabin, past the young man on guard. Despite the late hour, he only nodded at her and stayed at his post. She was sure he’d been apprised of her situation. Willa straightened her shoulders and made her way along the row of guns to the area where Dalton had ordered her to meet him just as the seventh bell sounded and then echoed into silence.
Chapter Nineteen
The seventh bell had just sounded when Willa stood across from Lieutenant Dalton. She was more than a little surprised at his demeanor since he looked more uncomfortable than she felt. This whole farce had been his idea. Had he lost his nerve?
“I see you’ve decided to see things my way,” he finally said in a husky whisper.
“Your way?” Willa nearly snorted at his discomfiture. “I’m sorry, but I was led to believe you were perpetrating blackmail to get me to go along with some nonsensical attraction you seem to have developed for my person.”
He jerked back a step in the shadows near the gun ports. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s not? Then perhaps you’d like to tell me exactly what you expect from me in order for you to keep my deep, dark secret from the rest of the ship?”
The silence emanating from the lieutenant was so fraught with tension, it seemed more like a clanging bell. At last he leveled an accusation. “You’ve told Captain Still.”
“Why would I incriminate myself unnecessarily? And besides, if I had revealed your perfidy to Captain Still, don’t you think he’d have thrown you in the brig by now?”
“Then why has he stationed a guard at your door?”
“When I went to let the captain know Dr. MacCloud has regained consciousness, he decided to put the guard at our door temporarily until my husband is strong enough to watch over me, since I am apparently a helpless woman.”
“Ha! He knows better than that. Most of the people on this ship know you’re perfectly capable of standing up for yourself.”
Willa was grateful for the darkness of the lower gun deck at that hour so that he couldn’t see how her hands shook at his words. However, she did sense a crack in his bravado at the possibility Captain Still might suspect his true intentions.
In a lunge she didn’t see coming, he dragged her close and kissed her before she could struggle. She scratched the side of his cheek and pushed him away hard. “One more move like that and I’ll make enough noise that the guard below at my door on the orlop deck will hear. He’ll be on you in the time between two heartbeats.”
He shoved away from her, breathing hard. “This - what is between us. It’s not over, Willa. Watch where you step. You’ll not always be near a guard. The Arethusa is a big ship.
“Nothing is between us, Mr. Dalton.” With that, Willa turned away and walked deliberately toward the hatchway steps to the deck below and the surgeon’s cabin beyond. She’d be damned if she’d run from him like a frightened rabbit.
Cullen stilled. He was midway through his late-night walk with his cane to build his strength and surprise Willa. Mr. Parker had deemed him ready to exercise on his own and had ordered the cane from the ship’s carpenter.
He leaned hard on the wooden support and tried to think of a reason for what he’d just seen. His wife, with her head down, had walked solemnly away from First Lieutenant Dalton
on the darkened gun deck. He had to stifle a chuckle when Dalton did not appear to be happy with whatever exchange he’d had with Willa. The first lieutenant had turned toward the hatchway and slammed up the steps toward the top deck.
Cullen gritted his teeth and tried to tamp down his anger. He was still battling headaches and dizziness in the aftermath of his beating on Gibraltar. The helpless feeling that kept overtaking him rose up like bile in his throat. There was something just below the surface he struggled with each day and every restless night in his hammock in sick bay. A feeling very much like worry mixed with a heavy dose of terror for Willa’s safety haunted him. If only he could remember why he’d gone into Gibraltar that day…
Fatigue overtook him and settled the question of what he should do. He headed back to the sick bay, and Mr. Parker’s ministrations.
Willa walked into the surgery with her mind a fog the next morning and nearly missed noticing Cullen hobbling toward the patient log. “You shouldn’t be doing that, should you?”
Surgeon’s Mate Parker came toward her with a steaming bowl of porridge he’d brought from the galley along with the patient rations for the morning. “Of course, he shouldn’t, but ever since he’s been sneaking in short walks on his cane, he won’t listen to me.”
“Then you’ve discovered the horrible truth I’ve been forced to endure.” Willa pulled out a stool and sat next to an examining table.
Parker set down the bowl for her and counted off on his fingers: “He’s a stubborn Scot. He listens to no one. He thinks he’s invincible.”
“Yes, that’s it. You’ve summed him up perfectly.”
Cullen looked up from the log and peered at her above his spectacles. “Are the two of you talking about me behind my back?”
“No. We’re saying you’re an impossible Scot to your face.” She had to smile at her irascible husband. He was a grumpy, immoveable mountain of a man.
Pride of Duty (Men of the Squadron Book 2) Page 15
