by Jo Goodman
Noah bounded off the bed, threw back the bolt, and was out the door before Jessa could finish her sentence. Behind him he could hear Jessa's soft laughter. Damn her! She had known very well what was wrong with him. She had gone on and on about the food just to needle him.
When he returned to the cabin an hour later Jessa was clearing dishes from the table and placing them on the tray Cam held out to her. Gideon was sitting on the oriental rug, clutching the cloth ball Drew made for him. He dropped the ball and slapped his hands against the carpet when he saw Noah.
"Feeling better?" Jessa asked. When Noah merely glared at her, she turned her sweet smile on the boy. "That's all, Cam. You can take the tray away now. Thank you for bringing the water, too. Oh, and when the cook can spare you, bring a pot of tea and some crackers for Mr. McClellan."
Cam bobbed his head and left the cabin quickly. Lord! But if Mr. McClellan ever looked at him the way he did his wife, he'd expire on the spot!
"I've turned down the bed for you," she said. "Cam says you usually sleep through the first day or so on board."
"Cam talks too much."
"And you say too little. The next time I ask you if you are feeling quite the thing you should tell the truth. At first I thought it was your wound that was bothering you."
Noah sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes. He took off his jacket and vest and tossed them on Jessa's trunk. "My wound's healed."
"But I didn't know that."
"Well, you know it now. And a lot of other things besides." He lay back on the bed.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers.
Jessa scooped Gideon off the floor then went to stand by Noah's side. "I could do that for you," she said quietly. "Mama had megrims. I used to rub her temples. She said I had a soothing touch."
Noah glanced up at her. Her eyes were enormous, very gray and very earnest. He remembered her gentle hands. "All right. I think I'd like that."
Jessa skirted the bed and crawled on from the other side. She put Gideon at the center. He immediately pulled himself toward Noah and slapped at his thigh. The ball was of no interest to him anymore. Jessa started to move him away but Noah caught her wrist. "No. Let him be. I don't mind." Then he tugged on her hand and drew it to his face.
Jessa folded her legs to one side and spread her skirt so that it lay all around her. Noah shifted to rest his head in her lap. His eyes closed as soon as her fingers sifted through the thick cap of chestnut hair and touched his scalp.
"You changed your gown," he said softly, a hint of tiredness in his voice. "I'm glad." The dove-gray gown she wore now still reminded him of mourning but it also matched her eyes. For that reason alone he could tolerate it. He also noticed she had combed her hair and replaited it. It fell over her shoulder. The tip nudged the underside of her breast.
"Your orders were rather clear on the point of my gown."
"Orders? Was I as demanding as all that?"
What was this? Remorse? "You were a veritable tyrant." She kept an eye on Gideon. He had placed his tiny fist in the center of Noah's palm and was preparing to play with Noah's wiggling fingers.
"As bad as that?"
"Yes."
"Hmm. That feels good. What did you do with the black thing?"
"I gave it to Cam for the rag barrel. I thought it would save you the trouble of throwing it overboard."
"Good."
Jessa's fingertips made light circles on his temples. "Noah, why didn't you come to the cottage yourself today?"
"I didn't want to force your decision one way or the other."
"Were you surprised to see me when we got to the inn?"
"Not half as surprised as you were to see me. I take it you thought I would be waiting for you at the ship." He grimaced slightly as Gideon bit the pad of his thumb. "Hey! What are you doing to me?"
"Gideon! Stop that!" She extricated the infant from Noah's hand and moved him away. Gideon promptly crawled back, cleared the obstacle of one of Noah's legs, and squeezed himself between Noah's calves. He put one thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes, sucking contentedly. "I should put him in his crib," Jessa said.
"No. He's comfortable. I'm comfortable." He reached for her hand and drew it back to his forehead.
It was all very well for both of them, but Jessa was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Noah was not her mother and touching him evoked decidedly different feelings. Her fingers threaded through his hair, curled around his ears, and stroked the strong column of his neck. She searched for something to say. "I was surprised to hear from you at all," she said finally. "I thought you had already gone to America."
"I still had business to finish at Stanhope. If you're wondering why it took so long for me to call on you..."
"No. That is, I don't care... really, it's all right."
"—it's because I only came to my final decision this morning," he said bluntly. "When you didn't hound me at Stanhope I realized you were giving me a choice, either that or you thought better of all your scheming."
He couldn't make what he thought of her much plainer than that she thought dismally. "When you left the cottage I thought you had already made your choice," she said quietly.
"So did I."
Jessa wondered what had changed his mind, but she didn't ask and Noah didn't offer. She continued to knead his shoulders, his head, his temples. Her fingers sifted lightly through his hair even after he fell asleep. When Cam entered the cabin carrying a tray with tea and crackers, Jessa raised a finger to her lips, smiled gently, and pointed to both her sleeping men.
Cam set the tray down, backed out of the room on tiptoe, and closed the door quietly. For the first time since he left home at age eleven, Cam longed for his mother's arms.
When she was certain Noah was sleeping deeply, Jessa eased herself from beneath him. She picked up Gideon and placed him in his crib. He woke briefly while Jessa changed his diaper but the steady swaying of the ship lulled him to sleep again, just as she had known it would.
There were extra blankets in one of the drawers beneath the bed. Jessa made a place for herself on the window seat. Her dress was folded neatly over the back of one of the chairs. She was hesitant to place it in the wardrobe next to Noah's things. He didn't need any more reminders that she was a fixture in his life—at least for the present. Slipping out of her shoes and stockings, she padded to the bed and arranged the comforter over Noah. She marveled that he could look so innocent when he was sleeping. It made her bold. She whispered her thanks, touching his cheek gently.
Afraid lightning would strike her, she quickly blew out the hurricane lamps and stretched out on the window seat. Her toes curled under the blankets and when she finally fell asleep she was still smiling.
Noah was not in the cabin when she woke. The bed was made and the tray of tea and crackers was gone. In its place were two place settings, one of which had already been used. He must be feeling better, she thought sleepily, if he could eat this morning. She burrowed her face in the pillow without wondering how it got there and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Stretching, Jessa turned on her back. One long look out the window warned her she had slept longer than was her wont.
Gideon was not in his crib. Jessa breathed a little easier. At least he hadn't been neglected; Noah would have the babe with him. Jessa went back into the other room. As she passed the table she saw that in addition to the two place settings there was also a bowl half filled with porridge and a cup with a little milk left in it. She smiled wistfully, wishing she could have seen Noah feeding Gideon. What Gideon lacked in manners he more than made up in enthusiasm for his food.
Jessa washed her face, combed out her braid, then plaited it again. Yesterday she discovered Mary hadn't packed any of her pins. There was nothing for it but to tie the end with her ribbon and let it fall down her back.
She was standing in the middle of the room, barefoot and
in her cotton shift, looking around for her gown, when Noah came in the cabin. Jessa didn't know which way to turn first. She backed toward the window seat to get a blanket to cover herself.
"What you have on is modest enough," Noah said. The eyes that slid over her were casual in their regard, but not without a certain amount of interest. Behind him he pushed the door shut and bolted it.
"Just the same, I'd like to dress."
"I don't think so." Noah wanted to keep her slightly off balance. For what he had to discuss it was necessary.
"What?! You can't stop me."
"Do you know where your gown is?"
"I'll get another," she said defiantly and started toward the trunk.
"I've taken your clothes out of there." He saw her glance at the wardrobe. "And if you make one move in that direction I'll just haul you back. Since last night proved you have an aversion to being with me, I assume you'd rather not have me touch you."
Bewildered, Jessa backed away from the wardrobe. Her hands fluttered uneasily to her side. What on earth was he talking about? His eyes were glinting dangerously and his mouth had thinned so that it seemed a mere slash across his face. That he was fiercely angry, she didn't doubt. But why? Because she had slept on the window seat? Surely that's what they agreed to. Hadn't they? "I don't understand," she said. "What—"
"Sit down." He pointed to one of the dining chairs.
Jessa's chin came up and she stamped her foot. "I will not! Where is my son, Mr. McClellan? What have you done with Gideon?"
Noah advanced on her.
Jessa held her place.
Noah was impressed that she didn't bolt.
Jessa was too frightened to move.
Noah picked her up at the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. Before she could react, he kicked out a chair and was dropping her into it. Hard. He shoved the chair back to its place so that Jessa's middle was pressed against the table's edge. "Now stay there."
Jessa stared at her hands, which she had placed on the table to brace herself. Beneath the table she could feel her legs quivering. She dug her toes into the carpet, "I've always despised men who use force as a substitute for reason," she said softly, with great dignity.
"And I've always despised liars," he shot back. Noah gave her chair an angry shake because he didn't have his hands around her neck and he wanted to shake something. He let go of the chair abruptly and cursed under his breath. He hardly recognized himself. In his family he had always been considered the sensible one, levelheaded. Until now Noah had accepted that view, believing himself to be rational, logical, and even-tempered. He doubted Jessa would describe him that way. Damn, but he couldn't even think of himself in that light any longer. He could barely think. Period.
Noah pulled out the chair on Jessa's left and sat down. When he spoke his voice was even, threaded with a measure of calm. "Gideon is with Cam. He is being entertained in the captain's cabin. No harm will come to him. Cam is completely responsible and he knows where we are if the babe needs anything."
Jessa nodded faintly. Perhaps if Noah had told her Gideon was creeping up the mainmast she might have objected. Given his present mood, she wasn't even certain of that. She continued to stare at her hands, afraid to look in any direction but down.
"There are a few issues that must be resolved between us," Noah began. "And I didn't want to be distracted by the babe."
"Issues?" she asked. It was a timid overture.
Noah reached in his vest pocket. "This being the first issue." He opened his palm at an angle. Lord Gilmore's gold timepiece slid out of his hand and skidded along the polished surface of the table. "Do you recognize it?" When Jessa didn't reply immediately, he prompted, "I found a number of other valuables in your trunk. Rings. Coins. Shall I get them now? Perhaps it's just the timepiece you don't remember?" He started to get up but Jessa's voice brought him back.
"It belonged to Lord Gilmore," she said in a voice barely audible to her own ears.
"Ah, another mystery unraveled. I didn't know the young fop's name. Now let's see if you can solve another puzzle. I seem to remember you told me that you had given all the spoils to the highwaymen. How is it they ended up in a leather purse in your trunk?"
"Mary must have put the purse there." In that moment Jessa could have cheerfully wrung her friend's neck. She knew Mary's intent had been to help, to give Jessa something of value so that when Noah left her in America she would not be penniless. "I didn't know about it."
Noah thought that over. It was probably true as far as it went. Jessa seemed to be very good at telling the truth—up to a certain point. "Yes, well it doesn't explain how it came to be in Mary's possession, does it? What about the highwaymen?"
"Obviously I lied about giving it to them," she said sharply. "That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?"
"Don't try to put me on the defensive," he said. "What I want to hear is the truth."
"That is the truth. I lied."
He lifted her chin and pointed her face toward him. "The entire truth," he said meaningfully. "If you did not give the highwaymen the booty, how did you persuade them to take me to Mary's cottage? And please don't tell me you merely begged prettily and they relented. My brains aren't completely addled. There's much more to it than that." He released her chin and watched her eyes drop away from his.
Jessa formulated a half dozen lies in her mind and none of them served.
"I'm waiting, Jessa. You were part of the robbery, weren't you?"
She nodded.
Noah released a long sigh. "And Mary?"
"She wasn't part of it, not directly. Davey and his brothers were the highwaymen."
"I see. So Davey hadn't gone to London looking for work. No wonder Mary didn't choose to accept my invitation. A bit of conscience must have struck her. Though we can't say the same for you, can we?" He didn't wait for an answer. The question was purely rhetorical. "Was it Davey who shot me?"
"No. His youngest brother. Will." She raised troubled eyes to him. "It was only the second time they took him to the road."
"That explains it then," he said with a trace of sarcasm. "An attack of nerves."
Jessa said nothing. It had been stupid to try to defend Will.
"And you, Jessa? How many times have you played the grieving widow and mother for them, suggesting with just the right touch of pathos that the passengers should get rid of their weapons, suggesting with just the proper touch of innocence that their valuables would be safer with your son?"
"Only the once. I swear it!" she said when Noah's mouth curled derisively. "Just the once. I did it to prevent violence! Hank thought my presence would have a calming effect on the passengers."
"It worked for awhile."
"Believe me, the last thing any of us wanted was for someone to be hurt! We're not murderers!"
"The coach driver was shot."
"That was an accident! Davey was as shocked as I that he actually hit something. He was never meant to be the high toby. He's a smuggler by trade."
"Oh, yes," he said derisively. "Now there's an acceptable calling."
Jessa ignored that. "And Will, well, I've already explained about Will. But we didn't abandon you!" she added hastily. "You would have bled to death if we hadn't taken you to the cottage!"
"I wouldn't have been shot if you and your friends hadn't been on the road that night," he reminded her pointedly.
Jessa's eyes pleaded with him to understand. "But you know why we were there. I needed money. Davey, Hank, and Will were only trying to help me secure passage to America."
"Your reasons make you no less a criminal."
Criminal. There, it was out. He had said it. Jessa went cold all over. Only her palms were sweating. "What are you going to do?"
"Do? What do you think I should do?"
There wasn't enough money in the world to make Jessa answer that question. She was not such a fool that she would sentence herself.
Noah regarded her thoughtfully. She was truly f
rightened, completely defeated. What did she think he was going to do? Turn the ship around and give her over to the authorities? Given the trepidation with which she was looking at him, apparently that was precisely what she thought. Noah would have liked to let her worry a little while longer, but there were other, and in his mind, more salient issues before them, and he would not hold this matter over her head now. Neither would he forget it. She was making it easier for him to go on as he planned. When the time came, washing his hands of her would not be so very difficult.
"I'm not going to do anything, Jessa," he said softly, a shade too softly. "I wish you would have told me the truth at the outset, but that is neither here nor there. I can't even say if it would have made a difference in my decision to take you home with me, so there is no use refining the point. We're here. We're together. And, for the length of this voyage at least, we're married."
Jessa was still reeling at the shock of his generosity when she heard his last words. The hopeful light that had flickered briefly in her eyes was extinguished. "W-what do you mean?" she stammered.
Noah fiddled with Lord Gilmore's timepiece, flicking it with his forefinger so that it spun and wobbled. "As long as we're on this ship I mean this marriage to be a real one, Jessa," he said finally, catching her gaze and holding it.
"You should have warned me... said something before you allowed me to board. You forced me to make a choice without telling me everything."
"We're even then. You did the same to me."
"Yes, but this is... this is different," she said lamely. "We... we agreed it was a marriage of convenience."
"No, that's what you called it. I didn 't agree at all. And you are forgetting that convenience doesn't necessarily preclude... friendship."
Friendship? He was talking about friendship! Jessa almost leaped from her chair and threw her arms around him. "Yes," she said eagerly. "I should like it if we were friends."
"Or mutual respect," Noah went on, watching her carefully as he expanded on his theme. He was going to enjoy her discomfort immensely. "Or loyalty... honesty... attraction... passion."
