Loving Sarah (5 page)

“
C
ome, miss,” the man beside her said as he took her elbow and led her toward the companionway. The only reason she followed him, Sarah told herself, was so she might find a chamber pot. And perhaps a meal. After having been closed in that darkened hold for who knew how many hours, she was not only in need of relief, but also immensely hungry.

“Well, that went better than I thought.” She smiled at the young man escorting her. “Thankfully I remembered to call him
Captain
. It wouldn’t do to disrespect the man, seeing as I’m aboard his ship. I really did mean to get on my brother’s boat. The boy from the
Evangeline
said this was the
Avenger
. I paid him to bring me out to
her
.”

“’E prob’ly couldn’t read,” the man replied with a chuckle.

She hadn’t thought about that. And both boats did look very similar, if not identical, to each other. “You’re more than likely correct, sir,” she said. “I should have known better.”

The crewman held open a door for her, and she entered the cabin. She set the satchel down on the table, then scanned the room, wondering where the chamber pot was hidden. After the man left, she locked the door and began to search for it. The tiny cabin held no furniture to speak of. What furnishings it had were either built into the bulkhead wall between the portholes or bolted to the deck. There was a chair, a four-drawer bureau, and a narrow clothes press with a string of hemp holding the doors shut. Sarah laughed to herself, because the doors looked as if they might burst if she removed the twine.

Remembering her mission, she began to lift the seats on the bench, which ran along one wall below the portholes, and found only clothing. Rain gear, boots, books, and tools were all jammed into the bins in a rather disorganized fashion. She pushed aside a mound of paperwork and more books from the corner seat. Finally finding the object of her most immediate necessity, she made use of it quickly, then spying an open porthole, she took the container and disposed of the contents and replaced the receptacle in its holder.

After unlocking the cabin door, Sarah took her cap off and unbuttoned her coat, tossing both onto the seat. Peering into the cloudy-looking glass over the bureau, she ran her hands over her horribly mussed and perpetually frizzed hair. If her maid could see this mess, she’d have a fit. She untied the leather binding holding the thick braid and ran her fingers through her hair, detangling it. She took the comb from her satchel, returned to the mirror, and began to smooth the mess out, then proceeded to re-braid it. The braid turned out crooked and fell over her right shoulder instead of straight down her back as it should. It would have to do, she thought, as she knelt on the bench in front of the open porthole and hung her head out, staring at the horizon and the Atlantic Ocean.

Sarah smiled. Her adventure was underway. She intended to experience and note every minute detail. She wished she had remembered to bring her journal. Then she could have written about it all, starting with how clear the water was and capturing the beauty of its dark, bluish-green tint. But more amazing than that was the absence of birds. She supposed it was too far from shore for land birds. Gulls and such might be able to rest on the waves, but she didn’t even spy them. Large gray fish, porpoises likely, swam alongside the hull, and off in the distance, several jumped waves following the school and their boat.

It was an odd, almost eerie sensation, being way out on the great, wide ocean where the horizon held no shoreline. So very different from when she sailed her little twelve-footer around the tiny lake at home. Then, the sounds of birds were always off in the distance. You could almost always hear them, except perhaps when the wind whipped the waves into white caps.

But out here…. She looked left and right, taking in as much as she could of her surroundings, and she saw no land.

Resting her chin on her hands, she closed her eyes and smelled the unique salty tang. Unlike that in a coastal town where you had an overwhelming mixture of faint odors, this was pure, fresh, and salty. No smells of the city, nor that grass and fresh-turned earth scent of the country. It was so different and so amazing that she just wanted to savor it all while she had this opportunity.

I
an handed the wheel over to his first mate, Mr. Nigel Johnson, and made for his cabin. He was going to have to keep her in there, though he didn’t know how he would accomplish that. His crew were tough men, not town dandies. Most were neither polite nor accustomed to dealing with the whims of well-bred ladies. He would explain this to her and hope she understood. If not, he’d lock her in for the duration. He had to. It was for her own safety.

He filled the wooden bucket with fresh water and climbed down the companionway. When he reached his cabin door, he stopped. Perhaps he should knock. She was a lady and he’d hate to embarrass her should he catch her indisposed. He knocked once, then twice. After getting no reply, he tested the lock, then opened the door.

The sight that greeted him was quite fetching indeed. Lady Sarah, her back to him, leaned out the open porthole, leaving her perfectly curved
derrière
clad only in boy’s trousers exposed to his view. He knew then that her presence was sure to test his resolve to behave in a gentlemanly fashion. After he hung the bucket on the hook near the washstand, she still hadn’t heard him, so he coughed, startling her. She bumped her head as she drew it back into the cabin, and her hand went immediately to the injured spot and rubbed. His tongue froze in place, thankfully behind his teeth, leaving him unable to speak.

It was already going to be a long few weeks until they reached New York, and with this tempting bit of fluff staring at him with those magnificent blue eyes, it was sure to be endless. Endless misery, as each moment in her presence would tempt him to beg for more time with her. He cleared his throat. “Are you all right?”

She lowered her hand and glanced at it to make sure she wasn’t bleeding, then lifted her gaze to his. “Oh, yes.” She smiled. “It was nothing.”

“I brought fresh water,” he said. “Unless you have a taste for wine, it’s all there is for a lady to drink.”

“Thank you. I am quite thirsty.”

He handed her a mug after he’d filled it. He took another for himself, sat on the bench, and held her gaze. “I need to know right now, does your brother know where you are?”

“I left him a note saying I was with Lucky. Why?”

“Because I must know whether or not to turn around and forfeit this race.” His voice held an unexpected sharp edge he’d never used on a lady.

Her eyes grew wide with concern. “No! Don’t do that. I know how important the race is to you and Lucky!”

“You’re telling me the truth?” He tried to ascertain her honesty by staring hard into her gaze, but all it did was unsettle his libido further. “A part of me thinks I should run up a flag and slow my speed to hand you over to Lucky. Let you be his problem, except…I’d lose my lead.” He shook his head, undecided as to what he should do. If he was going to run that flag to signal a problem to Lucky, now was the time. The farther they got from England, the longer she would be in his presence and the worse it would be for both of them. God alone knew he wasn’t ready for a wife. And the duke would have every right to demand he marry her.

“Please, may I stay? I could be of use to you. I know how to sail, and I’ve never been sea sick a day in my life.”

He had a hard enough time thinking clearly with her pleading azure eyes and her pouty lower lip glistening after she’d traced her tongue across it. The image of those lips beneath his as he lowered his head to hers caused an uncomfortable sensation in his breeks.

“I’ll make the return trip with Lucky, and all will be well. I promise!”

“I should say no.” He rubbed his forehead and began to pace in the small cabin. “I should…refuse you, because I know women like you are nothing but trouble. But….” He stopped his nervous pacing and stared at her, hoping his features were enough to frighten her into submission. “But hear me well, my lady, if I learn, upon our return to Liverpool, that your family has been worried sick over your disappearance, I swear I will throttle you myself.”

His stowaway appeared relieved. “Then you won’t turn around?” She still sounded concerned, as though she didn’t quite believe him.

“Every instinct in me says I should. But…no.” He couldn’t believe he was saying this. Damn her beautiful eyes, they had the power to suck a man in to her will. “Though when we reach New York, I
will
hand you over to Lucky.”

His stowaway nodded and rewarded him with a dimpled smile, the simple act causing his mouth to suddenly become dry.

“Wonderful,” she said, her excitement brimming over like a boiling pot.

She took another sip from her mug. Ian’s gaze fixed on her braid. The way it had been twisted up into coils atop her head the night before had given no hint as to its length. Now he wondered how it would look fanned out on his pillow. Then another, even more indecent thought followed. She never should have come aboard his boat whether it was by accident or not. Ian was beginning to feel she was no safer from him than she was from his men.

He stood abruptly and went to the door. Her voice caused him to turn around.

“May I come above deck and watch for a while?” She smiled wistfully.

“Absolutely not,” he replied. “My crew is not accustomed to the presence of ladies of your station. They’re all very experienced sailors, but still a rough lot of men.”

“If you could just
not
think of me as a noblewoman, but as an ordinary girl, perhaps that would help.”

He shook his head. “It won’t help. In fact, it’ll only make it worse. Your station is what protects you from those men. They are well aware of the laws concerning assault of a gentlewoman.”

“They wouldn’t bother me if they knew I had your protection,” she reasoned.

She had a point. It was his damn boat, and he was captain.

“Please?”

The way she looked at him when she asked it, with her bright blue eyes wide and pleading, her lower lip trembling slightly, made him relent. He sighed. Of course, he’d regret it later. Hell, he’d more than likely regret not turning his boat around and depositing her back on the duke’s doorstep. The only reason he didn’t was that he had more at stake here than one silly chit’s ruination. His ability to pay his own way, to be a true partner, lay in winning this race.

At the sight of her smile, a twisted, knotted feeling grew in the vicinity of his gut and his lungs felt as though his very breath was squeezed out of them. Obviously, she could tell she’d won, but he couldn’t make her victory an easy one. He didn’t want her to think she had free rein while she was on board. “You are not to interfere with my crew’s duties.”

She nodded eagerly.

“You will stay at my side at all times while I escort you. And do not begin to think that you have the freedom to come above whenever you wish. You must wait for me to bring you up each and every time. For the duration of the voyage. Understood?” Ian wanted to think he still had control of the situation, though he knew he’d lost it when their gazes first met above deck.

“I understand completely, Captain,” she said through her wide, radiant smile.

“Put your coat back on and cover that hair. It won’t do for you to have your charms exposed to men who will be without a woman until we return to Liverpool.”

She buttoned her coat, her fingers nimbly flying from one to the next. “You seem to think that I have the ability to tempt men. I assure you, the men I’ve met thus far—and I’m coming out of my third season—don’t see me in that manner. They have all commented on what a great friend I am. Never has one intimated that I am alluring or even the least bit pretty.” She pulled her coarse-knit gray hat down over her ears. “Quite the contrary. Whenever I think a young man might be on the verge of showing a slight romantic interest in me, the very next day he’s as cold as a fish. And try as I might, I have never been able to figure out why.”

Ian shook his head. He didn’t need to think why. He knew the answer, but didn’t have the heart to tell her. With the Duke of Caversham as her brother, only the best possible match for her hand would be allowed her company. Her brother was doing his duty by weeding out the undesirables before any sensitive feeling could develop. It was quite simply the kind thing to do.

“Then they are not only fools, but blind as well, my lady.” As she blushed, he held out his arm and led her up the companionway.

When they reached the deck, she inhaled a breath in awe. “I wish I were skilled with paints,” she said. “Then I could translate the beauty of the open sea onto canvas.”

“I’ll bet you’re better at it than you’re leading me to believe,” he mused, finding her unadulterated joy refreshing.

She laughed. “Remind me to show you one day some of my finer works.”

“That bad, eh?”

“Stick figures in rather elementary landscapes.” She smiled at him and something tripped in his gut. “And runny colors.”

He nodded. “Well, that’s to be expected when you’re young.”

She turned a mischievous gaze up to him, blue eyes sparkling with hints of gold in their depths. “I completed that painting about two months ago.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “Surely you have other talents?”