Miles Before I Sleep (13 page)

15

Andrea heard voices outside the door before Miles knocked and announced himself. She tried to school her emotions. She tried to hold her shoulders back and her head high, but the second she opened the door, her façade disappeared and Andrea burst into tears.

Miles stepped in and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his wide chest. “Shh, it’s all right now, Andrea. The man is locked up. It’s over,” Miles said as the two men dressed in officer garb came into the room and closed the door.

It took several minutes before she began to get control back. He set her back from himself and wiped her face with his handkerchief.

“Andrea,” he said, putting his arms around her and guiding her to the sofa. “This is our captain, Levi Bloodworthy and our doctor, Milton Franks. Dr. Franks wants to make sure you’re all right.”

Andrea could feel the tears coming to the surface again. “He s-scared me mostly. I bumped my head when he threw me on the floor, but I barely have a lump. I think I hurt him more than he hurt me.”

“Let me take a look,” Dr. Franks said as he stepped up to Andrea. She pointed out where it hurt. The doctor started to reach for her scalp but stopped. “My dear, can we remove the pins from your hair? It’s going to have to be redone before you go out in public either way.”

“Of course,” Andrea murmured and began pulling the pins from her hair.

Miles had only seen her hair down once before and that was at the docks the day her family left New York to return to England. Her hair began falling in a tangled mess down to her waist. Miles suspected she would be even more upset if she knew how disheveled she appeared at that moment.

Andrea winced slightly as the doctor found a tender spot near the crown of her head. He looked in her ears for blood and checked her pupils. “As far as lumps on the head go, I’d say you were very lucky, my dear. Are you sure you are not hurt anywhere else? I can send Mr. Huntington and Captain Bloodworthy out of the room if you have anything you’d feel more comfortable telling me about in private.”

Andrea’s eyes welled with tears again at the thought of what might have happened. “No, I broke nearly all my fingernails when I scratched him, but I’d hardly call that an injury. Mr. Huntington heard my screams and rescued me within minutes of when he forced his way into my room.”

The doctor nodded and turned to Miles. “I recommend several glasses of sherry and a long nap to help her nerves. Then tonight a nightcap before bed if she has trouble getting to sleep.”

Miles thanked the doctor and the captain closed the door behind him after he left. Captain Bloodworthy took a seat across from Miles and Andrea. He cleared his throat as he leaned forward in his seat. The fifty-year-old man, gray sprinkling his black hair, took a deep breath.

“I need you to tell me what happened, Miss uh… I don’t believe I caught your name.”

Andrea spared a quick glance at Miles. He had called her Andrea at least twice, so she saw no reason to continue to lie. “I’m Andrea James.”

“You’re…?” Levi looked between Miles and Andrea confusion written all over his face.

Miles shrugged, offering a slight smile. “Perhaps the questions about why and how she came to be here can wait.”

Levi scowled at Miles. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Can you tell me what happened?”

Andrea began explaining how she had first spotted Clyde Sully on deck two days into their voyage and that he had followed her back to her room that day.

“Even when he worked for my father, I was afraid of him. He always made rude remarks when my father stepped away. I tried to come back from the dining room in such a way that I would not be in the parts of the ship where the crew worked. But, he was waiting on me. I tried to get into my room and lock the door before he caught up with me as I had the first time, but he forced his way in. He wanted me to give him money so he wouldn’t tell Mr. Huntington that I was on the ship. When I told him I only had forty pounds, he wanted other things.”

“Christ!” Miles cursed. “If I had known that pretending to not know you would have put you in danger, I wouldn’t have done it,” he said looking into her eyes and covering her hands with his.

“How long have you known she was aboard?” Levi asked. His face was mottled with anger as he looked back and forth from his boss to the young upset girl.

“I knew who she was when I sold her my cousin’s ticket.”

Andrea gasped, her wide eyes fixed upon Miles.

“Mr. Huntington,” Levi Bloodworthy said tightly. “You will give up your cabin until her door is repaired. See to it that the doctor’s orders are followed. And you will find this young lady a chaperone at once.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to see you in my quarters in one hour.”

~*~

After the captain had gone, Miles forced a small smile to his face. “I think I might be in trouble,” Miles said.

Andrea stood up to move away from him. “You knew me all this time? I bet you were having a jolly laugh.”

“No, Andrea, it wasn’t like that at all. At first, I was curious, then intrigued. I hoped if you thought I didn’t know you, you would feel safe around me. I wanted to earn your trust before I revealed the truth. I am not your enemy. Trust me; I am on your side. The last thing I want is for you to marry my cousin.”

“You don’t?” Her voice was tinged with sarcasm.

Miles took her face in his hands so she could not look away. “I want you for myself.”

16

He smiled as he released her and watched a myriad of expressions cross her face. “I could’ve told your father where you were, when you were at the Red Hen.”

“It was you!” she accused. “You were the one watching the place.”

“Guilty,” he said, holding up his hands.

She crossed her arms over her chest and little lines formed between her brows. “I sprained my ankle jumping out of that window.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were safe,” he said. His head canted to one side as he looked at her with sympathy.

“I was safe until you drew attention to me.”

Miles sighed. He suspected she would react this way, but perhaps her anger was just what she needed to keep her mind off the fright she had just suffered.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Miles opened it to find Phillip there with a carafe of sherry and two small sherry
copitas
, the miniature crystal stemware traditionally used to portion out the small serving of the fortified wine.

“Mr. Huntington, have you seen the door of the Virginia stateroom?” Phillip asked, carrying the tray into the room. As his eyes fell upon Andrea with her torn dress, untethered hair and upset expression, he quickly understood something terrible had happened.

“Stay here with her for a minute,” Miles said to Phillip.

“Miles….”

“I’ll be right back. Please, pour her a glass.”

Andrea watched as he disappeared through the portal leaving the door open and then shifted her gaze with leery sight at the young man.

“Mr. Huntington’s a good man,” he said, feeling her discomfort with him. “We were raised in the same church. His mother taught my Sunday school class when I was little. Of course, he was nearly grown up by then.”

Phillip handed her the glass of Spanish wine. When she took it, he crossed the room and stood by the door with his hands clasped in front of him.

Andrea looked at the dark amber liquid in the small stemmed glass. As politely as she thought she could manage—because to Andrea, sniffing your food or beverage seemed rather rude—she lifted the glass to the level of her chin and tentatively inhaled. Whereas many girls she had grown up with, had been drinking weak ale or cider since childhood, Andrea had never imbibed. Before she could take a sip, Miles reentered the room, carrying a tangerine colored dress.

“Phillip, I know you have other duties, but could you make sure the carpenter has been informed about the door. Also, ask the captain to post guards outside that door and this one—good men who have transferred from our other ships.”

“Aye, sir. Would Miss Andrews prefer to eat here tonight?”

“Miss James,” Miles corrected. He turned to her. “Andrea…?”

Andrea nodded.

“Andrea James?” Phillip asked in hushed tones. He looked at her again as if seeing her for the first time.

Miles made a terse nod, dismissing him before the young man could say more. “Go.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

“I thought you might want to change after your nap,” he said, closing the door and lifting the dress slightly.

“I was wondering what I would wear for our tour. Mama only lets me wear pastels. I do not have any dark colors. Unfortunately, this dress is ruined now. It will not take me any time at all to sew up the tear. However, if you don’t mind, I’d like to wait a few days for you to show me the ship.”

“Of course. I’ll put this in the other room for you,” he said. “I brought your brush and ribbons in case you wanted to pull your hair back when you lie down.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

When he heard the tremor is her voice, Miles did not make it into the bedroom with the dress. It ended up in one of the chairs. “Andi, don’t cry. It’s over. You’re going to be fine. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

“That’s not why I’m crying,” she said sniffling.

Miles sat down next to her on the sofa, his body turned in the seat facing her. “Then why?”

“You’re being nice to me. I don’t deserve it after I rejected your cousin.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he was Shamus, not his cousin Rory. He worried that if he did, he would suffer her complete rejection when she found out. Andrea James would rather eat oatmeal without sugar because she was allowed to choose it, rather than have a plate of pastries of someone else’s choosing, placed in front of her. Miles knew, at that moment, he needed her to choose him of her own accord. A part of him would be happy for her if she found love with another man—as long as it was her decision.

“He’s going to be fine. It hurt his feelings a little bit to hear that he made such a bad first impression, but I don’t think he’s ready for marriage yet.”

“Then why so soon?”

“There are two reasons. Your father wanted it over quickly. Mrs. James was unhappy about it and he felt once it was done, your mother would have to make peace with the idea. And secondly, Richard is dying and wanted to see the matter settled before he left this world.”

Andrea broke eye contact. “It must have been hard to leave, knowing he had only a short time left.”

“It was very hard,” Miles said solemnly. “Andrea, there’s something you should know. I, uh, had word of your whereabouts sent to your father. I arranged for him to receive it one week after we departed. By my calculations, he’ll catch up with you about two weeks after we arrive.”

Andrea felt deflated. All of her efforts were for naught. She nodded her head to acknowledge she had heard him, but could not find any words. Her life would return to what it had been. She wondered if she would get her season now, or if her father had someone more odious lined up.

“You haven’t touched your sherry,” he said, touching her wrist and lightly compelling her arm upward.

She took a sip, scrunched up her nose and took another sip.

“This is not a dinner party where you’re trying not to get tipsy,” he said. “You’re drinking this medicinally. The doctor wants you to drink three or four glasses to help you sleep.”

“I don’t particularly want to go to sleep. I’m afraid I’m going to dream about him.”

“You’ll probably be sleeping so heavily that you won’t dream at all.”

Andrea took a deep breath, and drank the rest of the glass down. He could tell by her expression, she didn’t care for the taste.

“What is it going to feel like?” she asked as he refilled her glass.

Miles grinned. After her light breakfast, she was going to know quickly. “You’ll feel a bit dizzy like you did when you were little and you’d spin around in circles for a minute. When you walk, you will feel unbalanced. You may say things that are a little out of character.”

“Remember, you promised me that you would pretend you didn’t hear me if I said anything embarrassing,” she said, and swallowed down the second glass in a few gulps.

“I remember. After a while, you will get very sleepy and I’ll send you to bed. When you wake up, you may feel like the devil for a little while.”

“I thought this was supposed to make me feel better? My heavens, it’s hot in here.”

Miles noticed her face had become flushed, not just her cheeks, but also her chin and her ears as well. She thrust the glass into his hand and rushed to the porthole. As soon as she had it open, she leaned her head towards the opening, feeling the cool breeze. “I can hardly breathe, I feel so hot.” She lifted her hair off her neck. “Is this normal?”

Miles wore a concerned expression as he stepped up behind her. “Some people do react to alcohol like this.” He leaned down and blew on her neck.

“Oh, God, that feels good.” She touched one hand to her prickly burning cheek. “My hand is even hotter than my face. Feel my hand.” She turned around so unexpectedly that she nearly head-butted him. “Oh, I am dizzy.”

He held out both his hands to take hers and was surprised to find her left hand still holding her hairpins. Her hands were incredibly hot, even the hairpins felt hot when he took them from her. His thoughts turned carnal wondering what it would feel like to bury himself into the depths of her while she was on fire like that.

“Let me get you a wet washcloth,” he said, leaving her side and entering the adjoining bedroom, feeling suddenly warm himself. He spared a quick glance to make sure she wasn’t looking. He quickly used the wet cloth on his face and neck before he carried it to her. Miles held it against one side of her face and she reached up and took it from him.

“Thank you, Miles. This is just what I need,” she said as she bathed her face and neck. I’m feeling a little better already.”

When she moved the cloth to her collarbone, he suddenly felt like he was invading her privacy and took a moment to absent himself until he was feeling more like himself. He picked up the dress and put it away in the wardrobe next to his suits. It looked good there.

“I know I should be giving you your third glass,” he said, reentering the sitting room and joining her on the sofa. “But seeing how strongly you’re reacting to the first two, I think maybe I’ll wait a few minutes.”

Andrea adjusted the way she sat so she was actually sitting sideways on the sofa facing him.

“I didn’t recognize you at first when I saw you,” she said trying to think of something to say. “You look different with your beard—older.”

“I am older than the last time you saw me.”

“You’re only twenty-seven and I think your beard makes you look at least thirty-five.”

He was surprised that she remembered his age. Without conscious thought, he reached up and scratched his whiskered cheek. “You don’t really like it, do you?”

Andrea knew it was not polite to criticize someone’s appearance, but she was feeling so strange, it did not occur to her to lie. “I hate it. You are so handsome without it, and that thing just covers up your magnificence.” Andrea, suddenly realizing how rude she was being, clapped her hands over her mouth.

Miles laughed, knowing that it was the sherry talking. Prim little Andrea would never say anything so revealing. Did she really find him handsome or was she just trying to cover up her blunder? “Did you say something? I’m afraid I wasn’t listening.”

Slowly, her hands left her face when she realized he intended to follow through with their earlier conversation and pretend he hadn’t heard her embarrass herself.

“Do you think I’m pretty enough to marry a lord if my father wasn’t rich?”

“I think you’re beautiful enough to marry a king.”

She smiled engagingly at him. “Kings don’t marry women like me.”

“Do they only like ugly women? I’ve seen portraits of your queen.”

“Queen Victoria was born to her rank,” she said, attempting to sound indignant.

“It must’ve been hard to birth the crown.”

Andrea tried not to laugh, but was too impaired to suppress it. She giggle-snorted twice before she could stop. “I don’t think it’s proper to say such things.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Miles leaned forward, picked up the decanter and  poured Andrea another glass of sherry. “As much as I’m enjoying spending this time with you, I would like to see you are safely tucked in, before I have to leave to go see the captain.”

“I’m already sleepy,” she said, leaning her head on the sofa back and eyeing the glass he held out to her. Reluctantly, she lifted a heavy arm and took it from him. Rather than lift it to her lips she rested the side of her hand on her knee.

“Then one more ought to do the trick. Bottoms up.”

With a look of resignation, she tipped the glass back. When it was empty, she handed it back to him. “I don’t want to go to sleep. The thought of being helpless like that….”

“There are probably already two guards outside the door.”

Andrea looked pensively at the bed through the open door. “Miles, I know I shouldn’t ask you this, it’s not at all proper, but my mother’s not here and I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“It sounds serious,” he said gravely. “Andrea, I’ll answer any question you pose to me.”

“I read Richard’s letters to my father, that’s how I know about this,” she explained before asking her question. “If my father makes me marry Shamus, do you think it would be all right if I insist he keep his mistress? I mean, I know I have to endure him to provide children, but I’d rather he slake his lust elsewhere the rest of the time.”

It was a good thing that Miles was not drinking anything because that question would have made him choke. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck and was thankful that his beard would mask some of his embarrassment. He was shocked that Richard had communicated to her father that he had had a mistress and mortified that Andrea knew about her. His only redemption was that Andrea still thought Rory was Shamus.

“I promise you, Andi, you will never marry my cousin.”

Andrea did not like his answer. The question was not about Shamus; it was about marriage and what came after. “If not him, then whomever I marry. Would most men be willing to take care of their needs with a mistress after I’ve produced our children?”

“I can’t speak for most men.”