A pang in her heart urged her to rush forward to offer comfort, but she held back. Perhaps he preferred time alone with his thoughts, however troubling they might be. “Good night,” she said softly, closed the door, and followed her cousin.
She stopped at the hatch leading below deck.
Merde. She couldn’t abandon Daniel when he clearly needed a kind word, perhaps even a confidant. He had been her champion this evening, and now it was her turn to rescue him.
“I forgot something in the captain’s quarters,” she said to Serafine and headed back toward his cabins.
“What did you forget?” Serafine yelled after her.
“The thing for the you know,” she mumbled.
“Pardon?”
“Exactly. Just one moment, please.”
When she was certain Serafine wasn’t dogging her heels, she stopped outside the door to gather her wits. She knew the dangers involved with entering Daniel’s cabins alone this evening, but he’d been accepting of her limits thus far. Perhaps it was time to trust him with the truth. She could at least be honest with herself. She had grown to like his attentions and might be amenable to another kiss.
Ten
Daniel pulled a bottle of rum from the bookcase in his office. It was his best bottle, and he didn’t care to waste it on the vicar. Snatching up the glass resting on his desk, he poured a generous amount and left the bottle out. He sank into the only comfortable chair in his cabin and took a drink of the numbing liquor.
Nights were the hardest, and the evening’s reading brought back the worst of his memories. Cecily haunted him like an apparition. She was present everywhere in his quarters. The impractical china dishes gracing the hutch he’d had built for her. The large copper tub and hand-carved bed in his sleeping chamber. The plush rug resting along the bed where she could feel softness beneath her feet each morning. He had tried to make his ship fit for a lady of her station, the daughter of a governor, but nothing had pleased her.
He had failed before their marriage had even begun.
Daniel’s gaze landed on the gashed window seat and his jaw tightened. The chipped woodwork bore testament to Cecily’s fiery temper. She had launched a heavy tankard at him, missing her intended target and gouging the hand-carved scrolling instead of cracking his skull.
He couldn’t recall what had set her on a tear that particular time. Probably something inconsequential; this typically had been the case. What he did recollect was her fit of rage ending with a passionate tumble that had renewed his optimism in their suitability. They had repeated this pattern several times in the first weeks of their marriage until Daniel had abandoned hope. Abandoned Cecily.
The door to the great cabin creaked, and he bit back an oath. “Go away.”
He didn’t wish to speak with anyone, least of all his brother.
“Daniel?” Lisette’s lovely accent activated his heart, making it pound with vigor. She had come to him at last.
“Lisette?”
Her slippers scuffed against the plank floor as she moved through his quarters. She appeared at the threshold of his office. “Here you are.”
She twisted her hands together, making him smile. Her nervous habit drew his notice to her generous bustline, which her widow’s weeds had kept hidden from view. Not so with the lower-cut gown of muslin. The pristine white contrasted with her bronzed skin.
“I’m pleased you followed my advice to don lighter attire, my dear.”
“You are?” Her eyelashes fluttered as her gaze traveled the cabin, looking everywhere but at him. Her shyness was both endearing and yet irritating. She was a widow, not some innocent chit.
“Don’t simply stand there. Come in.” His snarl was unintended. Lisette was not the source of his ire. She was his only comfort.
“I take it Shakespeare is not to your liking.” She stopped in front of him, her eyes great pools of compassion. “Would you like me to speak with Amelia about selecting something less gloomy for tomorrow’s reading?”
He chuckled, the tension melting from his shoulders. So dear Lisette wished to protect him from the sappy words of romantic fools, did she? “Ask her to forgo the poetry too, will you, luv?”
“You dislike poetry?”
“Not altogether. I’m partial to a few bawdy rhymes.” He winked and reached toward her, his palm up in invitation. “Come here, sweetheart.”
At first, she stared, making no move to touch him. Yet she didn’t retreat either. She lifted her chin a fraction before placing her gloved hand in his and allowing him to ease her onto his lap. He adjusted her so that she perched sideways on his thighs, her face level with his.
She was a tempting armful, nibbling on her full bottom lip.
“Perhaps this was a bad idea,” she said, her gaze shooting toward the exit.
His arms tightened around her waist. “I have one comfortable chair in my private domain. I wouldn’t ask you to sit on the floor.”
She swallowed hard, two spots of pink coloring her cheeks. Lisette possessed the most beautiful skin. It glistened in the glow of the lantern light. Daniel trailed the back of his finger along her velvety jaw. Nothing about her was severe. She was gently curving lines and sweetness. And she was the tonic he needed to soothe his ruffled psyche.
“Did you wish to see me about something specific?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t been mistaken about her purpose in visiting his quarters.
“You seemed saddened by tonight’s reading, more so than I would have expected.”
She waited for his response, offering him a chance at redemption, but she couldn’t give him absolution. Only Cecily could release him from his guilt, and that could never happen.
Daniel forced a grin. “As noted, Shakespeare isn’t my cup of tea. Neither is poetry.”
“With the exception of bawdy prose,” she amended, a wry smile on her inviting lips.
He laughed. It was a true sound of merriment, for Lisette had a way of unearthing happiness he’d thought abandoned him long ago.
Her expression turned serious again. “I sense something is troubling you.”
“You’re mistaken, luv. How could I be anything but content with a beautiful lady in my arms?”
With narrowed eyes, she shifted on his lap to face him, her bottom making contact with his growing erection.
He grunted and readjusted her position. “Take care not to wiggle so much, Lis.”
She frowned, indicating her patience was nearing an end. “I could move to the window seat to preserve your comfort.”
He held her in place when she tried to climb from his lap. “Stay put. I like you where you are.”
Her eyes flared and she clamped her mouth closed as if fighting the urge to take off his head. Her fire heated his blood.
“You’re too surly by half this evening,” she snipped. “Tell me what’s stuck in your craw, and stop treating me like an imbecile. Something is bothering you. And don’t blame Shakespeare for your ill temper.”
She was an insistent young woman but no match for him. He had been evading his troubles for too long. He reached to delve his fingers into her silky hair, but she batted away his hand.
“Now who’s surly, madame?”
“I’m unappreciative of your dismissive manner. If you don’t wish to speak of your troubles, do me the honor of saying as much rather than behaving as if I haven’t spoken.”
“Very well. I don’t wish to speak of anything but you.”
Her chest rose and fell with an exasperated sigh. Regret settled over him, leaden and oppressive. Sometimes he would like to unburden himself, but shifting the load to Lisette’s shoulders wasn’t an option. She was his to protect and had been since that moment in The Abyss when he’d chosen to intervene on her behalf.
Besides, ladies possessed delicate sensibilities. He would likely wind up comforting her instead of the other way around. Best to distract her.
“If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream and have a flower presented to him a
s a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awoke—Aye, what then?”
He nuzzled her neck, but she pushed back and held him at arm’s length. A line formed between her brows. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m reciting Coleridge.” He returned to nibbling her soft skin, but she shoved away again.
“Why?”
He dropped his head back against the chair. “I’m attempting to seduce you, my dear, to make you putty in my hands.”
Her brows shot up and she laughed, a joyous sound that wafted into the air, rising high before raining warmth over him. “Is that how it’s done, monsieur? Perhaps you would reap better rewards with a bawdy rhyme.”
“I see. Very well then. There once was a gentleman from Dover, who liked to—”
“No!” Her hand shot out to cover his mouth. “I don’t want to hear—I was teasing.”
“So was I.” Her glove muffled his laugh.
The spark of amusement in her eyes faded, and her hand dropped away from his mouth. “Do you want to kiss me?”
His heart startled before taking off at a gallop and sending desire flooding through his veins. “I want to do more than kiss you, Lis.”
“Oui, I know.” She lowered her eyes. “You have been more than patient with me, but I can’t fulfill our agreement. I apologize for not being honest from the start, and I pray my revelation doesn’t alter your decision to carry us to England. I promise to find another means of payment.”
Another means of payment? Grasping Lisette’s chin, he twisted her face to meet his direct gaze. “Sharing my bed is not an obligation. I thought we cleared up our misunderstanding the first evening. Your fare is twelve pounds and only twelve pounds.”
“But I thought you wished for me to… You said—” She huffed. “You implied I must sleep with you if I wanted passage on your ship.”
“The hell I did. I asked if you would like companionship on the voyage. I’ll be damned if I will coerce you.” He pushed her off his lap and steadied her when she stumbled. “We’ll arrive at Port Albis soon. I’ll find my satisfaction elsewhere. You may go.”
Her eyes rounded. “But, Daniel—”
“Go!”
He was being an unpardonable arse, but he didn’t care.
Instead of dashing from his quarters as any woman with good sense would do, she crossed her arms, glared, and insulted him in French.
“I can understand you.”
“Très bon. Now you know what I think of you.” She turned on her heel and stormed from his office. The slam of the great cabin door echoed in the bare rooms.
“Hell!” Daniel would not run after her. The last thing he desired was another ill-advised entanglement, and Lisette’s show of temper and assumptions reminded him of what he didn’t need in his life. He didn’t want another hysterical wife, and he didn’t want to spend every moment feeling like a failure as a husband.
He bolted from his seat and snatched the bottle from his desk. He never wanted to marry again, so why would his thoughts even travel that direction?
If Daniel had ever excelled at anything in his life, it was forgetting, and he wanted to forget this night. He raised the bottle to his lips, but the rum tasted sour now. Shoving the cork back into the bottle’s mouth, he carried it to the balcony off his quarters.
He leaned his forearms against the wooden railing and stared at the moonlight reflecting off the black sea. Another image of Cecily swamped his memory, and his gut seized. His wife had once fled to the balcony and climbed atop the railing. The sinister waters had churned below, frightening him as the sea never had before. If she had slipped and plunged below the surface, she would have been lost forever.
“Cecily, please.” His desperate fingers reached toward her. “Take my hand.”
“I’ll jump. I swear it, Daniel.”
His heart hammered against his ribs even five years later. He hated remembering that moment and all the ones that refused to allow him peace.
Clutching the neck of the bottle, he lifted it into the air and drew his arm back.
“Leave me alone,” he bellowed and flung the bottle. It hit the waves with a crack and disappeared.
***
Lisette stood against the railing of the main deck with Rafe, feigning interest in the activity around her. The men chanted rhythmic songs—sea shanties—as Monsieur Patch had informed her. Their muscles rippled beneath thin shirts as they threw themselves into hoisting the sails. The first time she had observed one of the men climbing aloft to unfurl the sails, she’d been intrigued, but too many hours of watching the same activities had taken its toll.
The salty breeze off the Caribbean waters had loosened tendrils of her hair and whipped them around her face. No amount of fussing kept them in place.
For the past two days, Daniel had closed himself off from everyone. Their communal dinners had ceased, and he had refused entrance even to Rafe, which infuriated her the most.
Her brother didn’t deserve to be punished when Daniel was angry with her. She would never forgive him for his ill treatment of Rafe. Fortunately, Jake Hillary had taken up Daniel’s role and engaged her brother in various maritime pursuits. Under Monsieur Hillary’s tutelage, her brother had steered the ship, learned to tie several different knots, and rang the bell on the half hour to signal the passage of watch. Too bad Daniel wasn’t more like his brother. Amelia was fortunate to have married such a fine gentleman.
Lisette shaded her eyes from the harsh sun and gazed out at the cerulean waves. The perpetually moving entity spread outward to infinity. If Monsieur Hillary hadn’t reassured her that they would arrive in Port Albis within the week, she would believe they’d never reach their first destination. Their arrival couldn’t come soon enough.
When the ship docked at the island, she and her family would part company with the captain and his ship. There would be other ships bound for England, eventually. This time she could investigate and interview potential candidates before booking passage.
Lisette returned her attention to the main deck and sighed. When would Serafine relieve her? She had been supervising Rafe for the last three hours and thought she might go mad if she had to endure much more of observing the men at work.
The appearance of Monsieur Timmons, the ship’s surgeon, followed by Monsieur Patch on deck sparked her interest a little. At least the two men provided something novel to watch. With purpose, the men moved toward the captain’s quarters.
Lisette allowed her imagination to meander through possible scenarios that might require a surgeon’s services. The arrogant captain’s head swelling to such a size that he could no longer fit through the doorway. His soured disposition causing his eyes to cross permanently. Constipation caused by bad-temperedness.
Lisette chuckled. It would serve Daniel right, any or all of the ailments.
The men disappeared through the great cabin door, and Lisette lost interest.
“Rafe, let’s retire below deck for a bit.”
“No.” His gaze didn’t shift from the seaman inching along the yard above to unfurl yet another sail.
Should she insist and risk a tantrum, or wait a little longer for Serafine? As if her cousin had anticipated Lisette’s desperation, she appeared on deck. Serafine looked as fresh as a newly cut flower and more rested than Lisette had felt in weeks. A knot of irritation formed in her stomach, and she bit the inside of her jaw to keep from flinging harsh words at her cousin. Lisette’s foul temper wasn’t Serafine’s doing.
Just as Serafine reached them, the door to the great cabin swung open. Against her wishes, Lisette turned to look, her heart speeding. But she didn’t discover Daniel at the door. The surgeon shook his head as if defeated and spoke to Monsieur Patch, who set off to do his bidding.
The seaman reminded Lisette of a bull. No, more like a Minotaur. His only equal in brawn was Daniel, although the captain was sleeker. Lisette frowned. Daniel’s stature was not for her to contemplate.
<
br /> Monsieur Patch returned posthaste with a hammer and nail then took the sheet of foolscap the surgeon held out before nailing it to the door.
“Quarantine?” Lisette hadn’t been serious when she’d wished an ailment on Daniel. “Wait here,” she called to her family and rushed forward to intercept the medicine man.
“Monsieur Timmons, what ails Captain Hillary?”
His strained visage made her heart skip. “I’ll make the announcement to everyone in a moment. Captain Hillary has contracted the measles.”
Sweet Mary. Many people died from the disease.
“The captain complained of feeling feverish two days ago and placed himself in quarantine as a precaution. Looks like he knew what he was about. With any luck, no one else will contract the illness.”
Daniel had been trying to protect them by isolating himself? Now she felt even worse for wishing ill upon him.
Monsieur Timmons ran a hand over his gaunt face. Gray stubble on his jaw looked like smeared ash. Warily, he regarded her. “Have you felt feverish or discovered any spots?”
“I had measles as a child. I’m fit.”
Grandmamma had sworn that once Lisette had recovered she would never contract the disease again. After all, Grandmamma had nursed her back to health and hadn’t become ill.
Monsieur Timmons glanced beyond her shoulder toward Rafe and Serafine. “And your family?”
“Neither of them have had the illness, but they are well.”
“I’m sorry, madame, but I must insist all travelers exposed to Captain Hillary go into quarantine. We cannot afford an outbreak on ship.”
“My brother won’t take to being kept in the cabin. I swear he isn’t ill. Must he go into quarantine?”
“I wish I were at liberty to allow him to roam freely, but everyone will be in jeopardy if the men cannot sail the ship. We need all hands.”
She nodded slowly as the truth of his claim sank in. “I understand.” Somehow they would find a way to comply with the edict. “How is the captain?”
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