by Jo Goodman
"No. Their carriage has a broken wheel. Lord Penberthy made a stab at running after us."
Jessa hated to hear Lord Edward's name on Noah's lips. She didn't think Noah ever forgot anything. "He did?"
"Yes, but the lady called him back. He obeyed like a whipped dog." Much the way I did when you called me, he thought a shade resentfully.
Edward Penberthy was no one's whipped dog, not even Lady Barbara's. Jessa could have told this to Noah, but she wanted to avoid any more discussion of the Penberthys. "Will we be at the ship soon?"
"In a few minutes. We're almost at the wharves now. I'll send Drew on his way as soon as we've unloaded your trunk and you're safely on board. No one will be able to trace us."
"Thank you." Her breathing steadied. She lifted her face and smiled faintly. "You have been—"
Noah lowered his head and captured Jessa's mouth with his own. The kiss was light. A mere tasting. Passionless because Noah willed it to be so. When he pulled away he saw a measure of color had returned to her face. Her lips were moist where she had quickly run her tongue over them. His eyes assessed her critically and somewhat coolly. He decided his kisses became her and wondered if that were necessarily a good thing. He would have to give it some thought.
Drew pulled the carriage up beside the Clarion, unaware of what had just occurred between his passengers. Someone from the ship called to him and he returned the greeting. Noah slipped his arm from around Jessa, patted Gideon on the head, and leaped down from the carriage.
Dumbly, Jessa took the hand he offered and alighted onto the wharf. Why had he kissed her? He was going to make her insane, turning hot and cold the way he did. It was a fiendishly clever plot, Jessa decided. By the time they reached America he could have her committed to whatever passed for an asylum there. She smiled to herself. At the end of six weeks in the company of Noah McClellan, she would probably offer to go willingly. She stood quietly off to one side while Noah thanked his driver.
Noah took Drew Goodfellow's gnarled hand in his. "Jericho said you were someone I could trust. Thank you for listening to all my arguments these past weeks."
Drew glanced at Jessa and the babe. "It's a good thing yer doing, taking them, that is. Things are bound to work out."
"Things are temporary, Drew," Noah reminded him. "I've never pretended that I'm a saint." He squeezed Drew's hand very gently. "You'll be keeping in contact with Jericho, won't you? About the estate?"
"Aye. I'll let him know if there's anything amiss, just as I always have. If today's little uproar causes any problems I'll let ye know about that, too."
"Thank you." Noah released Drew's hand and called to someone on the ship to unload Jessa's trunk and take the basket. He waited until that was accomplished before going to Jessa's side. Hooking an arm through hers, he waved Drew off then escorted his wife and child up the gangboard of the Clarion.
The Clarion was a three-masted schooner, sleekly lined from bowsprit to stern. She was built for relatively light loads and speed. Her cargo holds had been filled at one time or another with spars and tallow, silk and tobacco. She had hauled rum from Jamaica, tea from India, and guns and men for a rebellious nation. The Clarion waited proudly in the harbor now, her gleaming white sails only slightly puffed in the spring breeze.
Jessa stepped onto the gently swaying deck and turned happily to Noah. "Gideon will love this. It's like a huge rocking chair!"
Noah paled a little and the smile that touched his lips was humorless. "Ay, yes... just like a rocking chair. Come, I'll introduce you to the captain and show you to our quarters."
Jessa followed him to the mizzenmast, where a small, wiry man was bent backward at the waist looking up into the yardarms. His hair was iron gray, queued at the nape of his neck, and tied with a black grosgrain ribbon. He put a hand to his forehead to shade his eyes from the sun and shouted an order to the man above.
"Aye, you're a clumsy one!" he yelled, shaking his head. "No, t'other way around. Take the rope to starboard! That's it. Let her drop. Have ye ever sailed before?" He sensed Noah's presence and straightened, casting his eyes heavenward and extending his hand at the same time. "New man. Name's Booker. I'll have to speak to Porter. I don't know where he finds these fellows." He dropped Noah's hand and made a spritely bow to Jessa.
"Jessa, I'd like you to meet Captain Jackson Riddle. He's in command this trip. Jack, this is my wife and our son Gideon."
"Mr. Riddle," Jessa said pleasantly, nearly glowing because Noah had said my wife and our son. "I'm very happy to meet you."
"A pure pleasure for me it is, Mrs. McClellan. And what a fine looking boy." He rocked on his heels, hands at his back, and his bright green eyes shifted to Noah. "Your brother is going to be sorry he didn't come himself this time, what with you waiting here with your bride and son and all."
"I'm sure Jerusalem is just as happy to be with Ashley," he said.
"Has she had her baby, then?" Jessa asked.
Noah was surprised Jessa remembered. She must have engraved his every word spoken on that damnable coach in her mind.
"I'm sure she has," the captain answered politely. "Salem was dogging her every step when we set sail. He never gets used to it, that one doesn't." He bathed in Jessa's bright laughter. "Well, if there's anything I can be doing for you, ma'am, just let me know. It's been gratifying to meet the woman that snatched our Mr. Noah from Miss Hilary Bowen. Won't her nose be tweaked proper."
"You've said quite enough, Jack. We'll take our leave." He took Jessa's elbow in a less than gentle grip and hustled her to the entrance to the lower decks. "I'll have him abandoned on an iceberg," Noah muttered under his breath. "I'll damn well have him keelhauled. I'll—"
"I'm sorry, Noah," Jessa said softly.
"You should be," he said tersely as they descended the narrow steps to the companionway. "If it weren't for you, I'd—" He came up short when Jessa stumbled on the stairs. "Dammit, let me have Gideon before you break his neck as well as your own."
Jessa passed the baby to him. "No, you wouldn't want me to do that, would you? It might deprive you of the pleasure of doing it yourself."
Noah scowled. "Keep that sassy tongue in check, Mrs. McClellan, or I may take my pleasure right now." He brushed past her, cradling Gideon in his arms, and went to the end of the companionway. The door to the cabin was slightly ajar. He pushed it open with his shoulder and stepped inside.
Jessa followed hesitantly. When she entered the cabin she could only stare open-mouthed in astonishment. She had never expected anything like it. Never! She felt Noah's eyes on her, watching her critically. Did he expect her to find fault with these accommodations? "It's lovely, Noah. Really, it's quite grand."
"Salem bought the Clarion after the war with an eye toward his comfort," he explained. "He did not want to give up sailing, but neither did he want to leave Ashley and the children behind every time he left. He had this section of the ship gutted and rebuilt to suit his needs."
If one discounted the cottage loft, the cabin was bigger than Mary's home. There was a large sitting area sectioned off by an oriental rug. Two comfortably worn lounging chairs had been bolted to the floor. A black lacquered table sat between them. An oval dining table sat off to one side. A candelabra had been affixed permanently to its center. A huge mahogany wardrobe stood against the wall on Jessa's right. Beside it was a small cupboard for the chamber pot. A large porcelain bowl and pitcher sat on its polished surface. Above it hung a mirror and an open shelf filled with linens for washing and drying. There was a small version of a Franklin stove in the corner for the cold Atlantic crossings. Behind Jessa, on either side of the door, were shelves filled with books, maps, and manuals. In front of her was a large bowed window made up of two dozen smaller panes of glass. All along the bottom of the window was a storage bench, its top cushioned by thick red upholstery. Jessa turned to her left. There were two doors along the wall. Each of them was closed. Jessa didn't really care what was beyond them. It was what was centered betw
een them that held her attention.
The bed was enormous.
Jessa felt a prickly sensation all along the nape of her neck. She turned to see if Noah was watching her. He was. Her eyes slipped back to the bed. She tried to be casual about inspecting it. After all, it wasn't as if she would be sleeping there with him. The window seat was more than sufficient for her needs, many times longer and wider than the one she had used in Mary's cottage. So what did it matter about the bed?
Its design was simple, ingenious really. She had never seen anything like it. It jutted out into the room at a right angle to the wall. There was no head or foot board, nor were there any tall corner posts. The bed rested on a platform of sorts that housed four long drawers, two to a side, one on top of the other. A thick down comforter served in place of a counterpane. Three pillows, covered with lace shams, lay at the head. A brightly colored quilt was folded neatly at the foot of the bed.
"Come, I'll show you Gideon's room." Noah's voice was husky. He had been staring at the bed, too. "Through here." He opened the door nearest Jessa just to the left of the bed. He stepped aside and let her in, then followed. The room was tiny, L-shaped, but more than sufficient for Gideon's needs. Two small bunks filled the short part of the room. A crib was braced against the long wall. Beneath it were more drawers and beside it, a changing table.
"It's perfect!" Jessa exclaimed. "Your brother's thought of everything!"
"Yes, well, Salem is rather thorough. And Ashley had a hand in it." He pointed to Gideon. "Will he cry if I put him in the crib?"
"Probably, but it's all right. He missed his morning nap and only slept a little while in the carriage. Look, he can hardly keep his eyes open now."
Noah leaned over the crib and gently laid Gideon in it. He loosened the baby's blanket, adjusted his tiny shift, and wiped a bubble from Gideon's parted lips. The baby didn't make a sound.
Jessa and Noah backed out of the room quietly. As soon as Noah closed the door Gideon let out a piercing wail. Noah started to go back inside. Jessa stopped him, placing her hand on the sleeve of his jacket. "No, just leave him. He'll be fine."
Noah was skeptical. He was used to being the doting bachelor uncle, not the father—even temporarily. The roles were decidedly different. "All right," he said. "There's one more room to show you."
Jessa followed as Noah skirted the bed and went to the door on the other side. This room was also L-shaped. Its purpose was purely functional. There were two large wooden tubs on the floor. A copper kettle hung from a hook by the door. Several pails were stacked in one corner. "This is where Ashley washes everyone's clothing and where you can have a bath. Fresh water is strictly for drinking. Bathing and washing has to be done with salt water. It dries the skin and will probably irritate Gideon. It bothered Ashley's youngest children."
"I'm sure it will be fine," Jessa said, just thankful for a place to wash and hang Gideon's diapers. She didn't have many for him. She suspected she would be spending a great deal of time in this room. "How do I get the water?"
"Someone will bring it to you. I'll talk to Jack about it."
"I could get it myself. I'm used to hauling water. I don't mind."
"I do," he said tightly. He turned on his heel and retreated to the main cabin. "I'm going on deck to find what they've done with your trunk. I'll send someone down with it. When it comes, do something about that gown. Whenever I'm gone I want you to keep the cabin door locked." He drew the bolt back and forth to make certain it worked properly. "I know most of the men on board, but not all of them. You're the only woman they'll be seeing for at least six weeks. There is no sense in tempting fate."
Jessa took a few tentative steps forward. The ship was rocking more noticeably now. They were already moving down the river. She could feel the deck coming up to meet her feet.
"Yes? What is it?" he asked brusquely.
"May I go on deck with you?" she asked. "Just to say farewell? I know you don't want to be seen with me in this dress, but I'd—"
"The dress has nothing to do with it. I brought you on board in it, didn't I? You can say your farewells over there," he said, pointing to the window. He shut the door and was gone.
Jessa stared blankly at the closed door, bewildered by Noah's shifting moods. She threw the bolt with a vengeance. "It would serve him right if I locked him out."
The window seat turned out to be quite comfortable. Jessa sat with her legs curled under her and one forearm resting against the glass. She was glad for the knock at the door when it came. She hadn't expected to feel so ineffably sad watching London slip away from her.
The boy who dragged in the trunk was just a few months shy of his thirteenth birthday. He tore off his cap and held it in both hands in front of him, waiting for Jessa's orders. His yellow hair was cropped short so that it could not be pulled back at his nape. Strands of it fell in his eyes. He was thin and scrappy and Jessa's heart was tugged by his shy, darting look. She directed him to put the trunk at the foot of the bed and had to suppress the urge to assist him. He looked too proud to think kindly of any offer she might make.
"Thank you very much," she said gravely.
He ducked his head and shifted his weight from one ill-shod foot to the other. "If'n that's all, ma'am... I'd best be goin'." He started to bob past her.
"Wait." Jessa put her hand on his shoulder. "What's your name?"
The boy bit his lip and eased himself from under Jessa's hand. "I'm called Cam," he said diffidently. "I've got to be goin', ma'am. The cap'n wouldn't like it much if I was here too long. Mr. McClellan neither."
Jessa sighed. She should have known that Noah had something to do with the boy's skittishness. "Very well. Thank you."
Cam jammed his knit cap on his head and bolted out the door. He hesitated in the companionway until he heard Jessa lock herself in, then he raced topside, his heart near to bursting. Lord, but she was a pretty one! No wonder Mr. McClellan told the men to keep their distance.
Noah's hand curled around the scruff of Cam's neck as the boy raced past him. "Whoa! Did you take down the trunk?"
"Yes, sir!"
"And she locked the door after you were gone?"
"Yes, sir! I didn't have to remind her, sir!"
Noah nodded and released the boy's neck. "Do you know much about taking care of babies, Cam?"
"Babies?" He wrinkled his nose, thought better of it, and stared up at Noah stoically. "Yes, sir. I have four brothers and three sisters, all younger than me. I figure I know about babies."
"Good. You can help my wife on occasion with Gideon."
Cam's shoulders sagged. "But, sir, I come to sea to get away from the little ones."
Noah laughed, though the sound was strained. "Oh, Cam, you might as well learn now there's no escaping one's destiny." The boy looked at him oddly. "Never mind, go on with you. Find something to do before Jack puts you in the sails." When Cam was gone, Noah went to the starboard taffrail and leaned against it heavily. He kept his eyes on the horizon.
"Thought I'd find you up here," Captain Riddle said. He leaned against the taffrail also but with his back was to it. He folded his arms against his chest and watched his crew as he spoke to Noah. "Couldn't stay below, could you?"
Noah shook his head. "No. Not this early in the voyage."
"You're a piece of work all right."
Noah merely grunted. His stomach roiled.
"How's Mrs. McClellan taking it?"
"She seems fine. In her words, 'It's like a huge rocking chair.'"
"Aye. It is that. The sea cradles her ships like they were newborn babies. Rocking... and rolling... and rocking."
Noah turned his head toward the captain and scowled. "Have your fun, Jack. Just remember I'll have my revenge when you least—"
Jackson Riddle bolted away from the taffrail just as Noah leaned over the side and proceeded to lose what remained of his breakfast and all of his midday meal. "Aye, you're a piece of work," he chuckled. "Christened after a man who stayed aflo
at through the worst storm mankind's known, and you can't help but turn green watching the tide come in." He walked away, humming under his breath. "Should have kept your eyes on the horizon."
Chapter 5
"You should have asked who I was," Noah said brusquely when Jessa opened the door to him. He handed her the wicker basket he had had on the carriage and without another word went straight to the bed and lay down. He cradled the back of his head in his hands and stared at the ceiling. His face had lost a little of its color. His lips were pale.
Jessa gripped the basket's handle tightly, holding it in front of her. "Are you feeling quite the thing?" she asked cautiously, unsure of his mood.
Noah felt as if a mule had kicked him repeatedly in the gut. "Quite the thing," he gritted.
"It's just that you've been gone so long.... I was worried that something had happened."
Something had happened all right. He had made a fool of himself in front of the crew. It didn't matter that those who knew him had seen it all before. It had long been a standing joke that his Christian name and his temperament for the sea were not matched. Usually he accepted the irony more gracefully. But that was before Jessa. He found nothing amusing about making an idiot of himself in front of this woman. "I'm fine," he repeated, making an effort to smile. "I wanted to come earlier but I was... occupied."
Jessa sat the basket on the table. "Would you like something to eat? There's plenty of chicken and beef. Oh, good. There's milk left. Gideon will be howling soon for his dinner. I'll mash a bit of this meat for him."
"Jessa."
"What?"
"Just leave everything. Cam will be here with dinner for you and Gideon."
"But this food, we shouldn't waste it."
"Save the fruit. Give the rest to Cam."
"Oh, you think it's spoiled already. Hmm, I think you're right. The beef has turned a bit green at the edge. And the chicken is sickly gray. It was—"
