The lowest level of the ship was one Catherine had, understandably, not encountered during their voyage. This remote, dark space beneath the waterline was reserved principally for storage and for living space for some members of the crew, such as the ship’s surgeon, Dr. Lyons. Catherine knew Dr. Lyons from the captain’s dinners but their greeting on this occasion was very different. When Catherine entered the orlop and spotted Lyons she moved immediately to where he stood in the cockpit. Busily arranging instruments on a long table, the doctor looked up in astonishment at her approach; “Miss Gibson? Whatever are you doing here? This is no fit place for a woman!” he said with passion. “It seems, Dr. Lyons,” Catherine replied dryly “that there is no fit place on the entire ship for me at this moment. I was told by Captain Knight that I must remain here until all is well.” The good man shook his head in disdain: “The orlop may be a safer place away from the guns of the other decks, but the business here will be just as gruesome.” Dr. Lyons looked to where his instruments lay ready on a side table and Catherine’s gaze followed his with curiosity. Her eyes widened in shocked surprise at the apparatus before her: in addition to the usual medical paraphernalia, an assortment of knives, saws and other glittering dangers winked evilly in the cabin’s lamplight. Catherine saw in an instant that the doctor’s work on such an occasion was very different from that normally performed in the sick berth on the upper gun deck; this was a place where men’s lives might be saved only by the gravest measures.
Dr. Lyons watched as she tried to hide her horrified reaction. “I think it would be best, Miss Gibson, should any men be brought below that you retire to my cabin. You will be quite secure there, I assure you” the doctor said reassuringly. Catherine nodded absently at his words, still trying to come to terms with the gravity of what she saw before her. She stepped away from the table and clasped her hands together to still their nervous motion. Dr. Lyons gave her arm a quick squeeze and stepped into his cabin, returning moments later with two glasses filled with amber liquid. “Here,” Lyons said kindly, “I think we both might need a bit of fortification this evening.” Catherine accepted the glass with gratitude and took a small sip. The brandy burned a trail of liquid fire down her throat and into her stomach. She choked a little at its strength but soon felt the benefit of its warming sensation spread throughout her body. She took a second small sip before passing her glass back to the kindly doctor. “There,” said Lyons, “Now all we must do is wait.”
Their wait was not to be long, for within moments Catherine and the doctor felt a sharp report accompanied by the deafening roar of the canons as they gave bear on the French target. As the shudder passed through the ship, the doctor laid a friendly hand on Catherine’s arm, steadying her. “It’s begun” he said simply and Catherine nodded quietly in understanding. “Do such battles last long, Dr. Lyons?” Catherine asked, anxious for reassurance. The doctor folded his arms across his chest; “They can, miss. But Captain Knight is as careful a commander as I have ever served under. He knows the enemy well and fights with caution and judgment. The Triton will be victorious, I am certain.” “And yet, Doctor, such preparations…..” Catherine said haltingly, her gaze sweeping over the medical implements. “I am afraid victory, as well as defeat, comes at a cost, Miss Gibson” the doctor replied gravely.
The battle raged above them for several long minutes, before there was a pause. Catherine looked at the doctor in anxious expectation: “Do you think it is over, sir?” The doctor shook his head; “No, I believe from the motion of the ship we are simply turning. The captain will be preparing to stay their progress I expect.” No sooner had he spoke then the ship indeed made a sharp turn, followed by a blast of gunfire from the cannons once again. In this same moment, two of the hands appeared at the base of the orlop stairs, one supporting the other as he attempted to walk. The doctor quickly came to attention and assisted in getting the man onto the surgical table. Catherine looked on in fear as she saw the state of the man’s leg: a huge gaping wound slashed the length of his calf. Catherine blanched a moment and felt ill, but then she saw the look of pain on the man’s face. She steeled her nerves and did her best to be strong for his sake. “What do you think, doctor?” said the second hand, inquiring for his friend. “It is serious to be sure,” replied the doctor as he examined the wound, “but it can be mended. We must clean the wound so I may see to do my stitching.” As he turned to gather his materials Dr. Lyons caught sight of Catherine; “Miss Gibson, I apologize I had forgotten you! Please, repair to my quarters at once. We will do quite well here” he said with sincerity. Catherine looked from the doctor to the patient once more and saw in the man’s face the worry and concern he tried hard to conceal. “No,” Catherine said in reply to the doctor’s request; “I think I had better help you here, doctor. The wound is not so very severe and I might be of some assistance to you.” She finished her brave speech somewhat breathless, hoping that her words gave courage to the injured man – as well as giving her some much needed confidence. Dr. Lyons saw the kind intent behind Catherine’s words and the fierce spark of will in her eyes. There was no time to argue with or caution her further – he accepted Catherine’s offer and began his difficult work with his new assistant.
Catherine surprised the doctor with her firm resolve but she also surprised herself. Though she was no shrinking violet, the sights that came before her that day were beyond any she had ever imagined. Several men had injured limbs; another had powder burns on his face and hands; and one brave man did not survive the blast of gunfire that came from the enemy ship. The viciousness of the injuries spoke of the high price to be paid in England’s war against Napoleon. The ship’s company was lucky; the doctor – like the rest of Captain Knight’s crew – had been carefully chosen and was well equipped to perform his duties. He was an intelligent man and gave every patient his utmost attention, all while the ship reeled and rocked from the blasting of the cannons and the maneuvers against the French. The doctor considered himself lucky as well, thanks to his unusual assistant. Though he made no remark to her, Dr. Lyons was astonished at the way Catherine came to his aid. No young lady of society could be prepared for the sights of a battlefield surgery but Catherine remained steadfast and firm throughout the ordeal, assisting capably with whatever tasks the doctor assigned. Dr. Lyons looked at her as she held a patient’s hand, encouraging him with kind words: she was a most beautiful creature to be sure but it was her generous spirit that marked her as something special.
Absorbed in their tasks, it was a patient who finally marked that the gunfire had come to an end. Catherine lifted her head for the first time in many long minutes and listened to the quiet in suspense. “What does it mean, Doctor?” she asked cautiously. At the same instant, a huge cheer could be heard from the decks above. Doctor Lyons gave her a quick smile and returned to his task; “I believe, Miss Gibson, it means the HMS Triton is victorious.” Catherine felt a small smile creep into her face at his words. She was weary to the bone with the work and the worry of the past hours but a small spark of strength returned to her at this welcome news. They continued on quietly with their tasks, Catherine a great deal more at ease as she knew there would be no further casualties to come before her.
When the last patient was attended to, Dr. Lyons began sorting his medical instruments, returning everything to order once more. Catherine followed him but the doctor gave her arm a kind pat in refusal. “No, I am afraid not, Miss Gibson. I think you have had enough excitement for today. You must leave the rest to me and return to your quarters.” Catherine protested at once; “No, I insist on helping you, Doctor. You will have a long night ahead with your patients to attend to. Allow me to finish these final tasks.”
A deep voice cut across Catherine’s speech from the other side of the room: “The doctor is right, Miss Gibson. You have had enough excitement for one day.” Catherine wheeled around at the sound of Captain Knight’s disapproving tones. As she turned to meet his gaze, he saw at once the full extent of
what she had endured in the ship’s surgery: her hair was now but roughly tied back after her exertions; her features were strained from the work and worry; but most alarming was the shocking sight of blood smeared across the front of her linen gown. Catherine had washed alongside Doctor Lyons but her white dress was beyond repair. Only as he took in this fearsome spectacle did Captain Knight realize the full extent of what Catherine had been exposed to in the orlop during the battle.
“Lyons!” the captain snapped with anger; “What can you have been thinking, man, to subject Miss Gibson to such… such savagery!” His words came on ragged breaths; “I sent her here for safe-keeping, not to be your damned assistant” he shouted with great feeling. Dr. Lyons took the abuse with good grace – he knew when he accepted Catherine’s help that there would be a price to pay afterwards. Captain Knight strode forward angrily and the doctor stood braced to receive his captain’s wrath. Before the captain could challenge him further, however, Catherine stepped between the two and spoke: “Captain Knight,” she cut in sharply; “I will thank you not to speak about me as though I were not here. Dr. Lyons wished me to remain in his cabin but I insisted on offering my assistance. I have embarked in this matter of my own free will.” The captain gave a contemptuous snort of derision; “Oh, of course you have Miss Gibson, of course you have!” he exclaimed with bitter irony. “I should have expected no less from such a stubborn, foolish young woman. You are determined to seek trouble, determined to defy me at every opportunity. Agreeing to bring you onboard is the greatest error in judgment I have ever made.”
The harsh words hit Catherine like a stinging blow. She flinched as his bitter speech came to an end leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging in the room. After the anxiety and effort of the past hours, this was too much. The reprimand left her feeling like an unruly child that Captain Knight felt compelled to correct. Catherine drew in a shaky breath and turned to the doctor with pretended calm: “I will leave you now, Dr. Lyons. I bid you a good evening, sir.” The sturdy doctor clasped her hand in his and spoke his thanks once more: “You have been a most welcome assistant, Miss Gibson. Again, I apologize for… what you have had to endure this evening.” The two shared a knowing look at his words, and then Catherine turned to face the captain once more. Anger was writ large all over Knight’s face at their exchange and Catherine could sense that he had a great deal more to say on the matter but she would not allow it.
“Captain Knight,” she said with all the aristocratic composure she could muster; “I know that I have failed in obeying your orders today. I do not expect your understanding, nor your forgiveness, but I do hope you will reserve your contempt for me alone, and not for the men who have served you so well.” With that, Catherine swept past the captain, her head held high in a final act of defiance. She should have known that such mutinous words would not be allowed to stand unchallenged. Knight’s hand shot out like lightning and grabbed Catherine’s wrist in a punishing hold. “We are not finished just yet, Miss Gibson” Captain Knight said through clenched teeth. Without further word he turned and left the orlop deck, angrily pulling Catherine along in his wake.
Captain Knight moved quickly down the ship’s passageways, his punishing grip on Catherine’s wrist never slackening for a moment. Catherine trailed behind him like a captive slave, fully expecting to be locked in her cabin for the last of her journey, but instead of returning there, Knight led Catherine to his own rooms. He ushered her inside, slammed the door shut with violence, then roughly removed his captain’s coat and tossed it aside. Catherine’s alarm grew as Knight began pacing the length of the room, the muscle in his jaw working furiously. At last, the captain stopped and turned to face Catherine, firmly planting his imposing frame between her and the doorway.
“What were you thinking?” he said in quiet sharp tones. His eyes glittered darkly and he moved closer to Catherine: “You know this is not a damned pleasure sail on a river. We are a ship at war. So what on earth would possess you to come on deck as we were about to engage in action? And when dismissed to the orlop, why would you leave Dr. Lyons’ rooms and subject yourself to such scenes unnecessarily? You are the most headstrong, infuriating woman I have ever met!” he finished sharply. Catherine burned once more at his harsh reprimands. Instead of making her see reason, his words only fueled Catherine’s own anger. She looked up at him, fearless in her stubborn pride, and shot back: “I am not a sailor for you to command, sir, nor a child to obey! I will conduct myself as I see fit and I will not allow my actions to be constantly called into question by you. You yourself sent me to the orlop – was I to stand idly by while there was assistance I could give?” she faltered a little at this as the scenes of the sickroom came before her once more but she steeled her nerves and continued: “I am not a helpless creature to come at your whistle when wanted, and dismissed when inconvenient.” Knight’s eyes burned darker as Catherine spoke. He drew even closer, sparks of slow flame showing in his dark eyes. She feared the strong emotions she read there and vainly tried to move away but Knight caught her once more. “Catherine,” he breathed hoarsely, his voice raw with emotion.
Catherine starred in shocked surprise at his use of her given name, at the raw intensity of his emotion. She struggled once more to free her hand from his grasp but to no avail. He stared at her a moment longer before his head bent down to hers covering her mouth in a punishing kiss. Reality seemed to slip away in a fevered moment that was part need, part desire. Catherine struggled at first, and then sagged against Knight, her hands splayed across the warm front of his open shirt. At her welcome response, the captain slid his hands hungrily over the sides of her silk gown, pulling her closer as his kisses continued their assault on her mouth. Seemingly of their own volition, Catherine’s hands slid up the fabric of his shirt, trailing fire across his chest as she reached for his neck and drew him even closer to her. Her head tilted back in abandon as his lips traced a trail of kisses along her jawbone and down the creamy smoothness of her neck. Her fingers curled in the crisp, curly hair at the base of Knight’s neck and she gave a soft moan of pleasure at the sensations he was causing within her. At the sound, he lifted his head and once more took possession of her lips, his mouth seeking, nibbling, and teasing with desire. Hungrily he pulled her tighter against the long, hard length of his body. They seemed to fuse together, one burning figure of longing and passion. Knight’s strong hands roamed every curve of her body, entwining themselves in the soft curls of her golden hair while Catherine drowned in sensations she never dreamed possible.
Knight drew back a moment, his penetrating blue eyes burning with desire. His hands cupped the beautiful planes of her face, thumbs gently caressing her cheeks flushed with color. The captain gazed into her eyes, glittering with longing: “Catherine,” he breathed on a long, ragged breath, “Catherine, I…”
The cabin door suddenly swung open and a startled Tom Foster took in the unusual sight before him. Catherine sprang out of Captain Knight’s embrace and turned away in mortification. With trembling hands she attempted to smooth her dress, her hair. “I… I…” stammered Foster. He trailed off, not knowing how to proceed in this most unusual scenario. He looked first to Catherine struggling to regain her composure, then to his captain who for the first time in their acquaintance seemed unsure of his next action. Knight swore softly under his breath and turned to Catherine. Confusion and embarrassment were written all over her face. Unconsciously she rubbed her wrist where Knight had held her. Knight watched her movements, his lips clamped together in a firm, unyielding line.
In the chaos of the moment, a thousand thoughts flashed like lightning through Catherine’s mind. Her complex feelings for the captain battled within her and were suddenly made clear – she was in love with him. Despite their differences, their constant arguing and misunderstandings, she had fallen in love with him. The thought filled her with momentary joy but it was a hope quickly dashed by cold reality. Their desire was unmistakable; the passion that existed between them cou
ld not be denied. But at the same time, Catherine recognized that for the captain, passion was all he felt for her. There was no tender friendship, no esteem for her character. Their encounters were marked by either bitter arguments or frantic lovemaking – there was no in between. Added to this was the certain knowledge that even if Captain Knight were attracted to her, he would make no declaration of love, no offer to share his world. His life belonged to the navy, to this ship, and there could be no room for her in his life. As the painful realization dawned on Catherine, her heart beat with irregular rhythm. She looked unflinchingly at this powerful man and knew without a doubt that her heart belonged to him alone. But as she searched his stern, controlled face, she could find no outward sign of this same feeling in his own heart. Catherine’s pulse fluttered weakly until pride came to her rescue: she drew her slight shoulders back and lifted her chin stubbornly. She looked like a condemned prisoner about to face the gallows, but determined to proceed with all haste. “You will both please excuse me” she said with icy coldness, then walked out of the room.
Commanding Heart Page 8
