Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie (9 page)

He entwined his fingers with hers to show he wasn’t upset by the interruption and smiled when she didn’t flinch or try to pull away. Her shyness was fading by small degrees with each encounter, and he had been manufacturing many over the last week. It was the slowest seduction in the history of man, but as he’d rarely troubled himself to win the favor of a lady who wasn’t eager for a tumble, he considered it his due.

“What was that melody, dearest?”

She blinked. “What melody?”

“The one you were humming.”

“I don’t know your meaning. I’ve remained perfectly quiet this entire time. And you are not to call me dearest.”

“Hmm.” He rose from his seat and leaned toward her until they were nose to nose. Still, she didn’t pull away. He smiled. “I’m not to call you Lisette either, am I, my sweet?”

“You are not,
Daniel
.” She spoke his name with an airiness to her voice, drawing it out and sending his pulse into a sprint. This was the first time she dared to call him by his given name.

He smoothed a finger over her cheek and across her bottom lip. Every inch of her was exquisite to the touch, like the finest Oriental silk. “And it’s very improper for me to touch you, do I have that correct?”

“Funny how you know the rules and yet never follow them.”

“They aren’t
my
rules.”

A knock sounded at the outer door.

“They’re here.”

He sighed when she moved away. At the threshold of his office, she stopped to glance over her shoulder. “Thank you, Daniel. You have no idea how grateful we are for your assistance with Rafe.”

He shrugged and reached for his jacket draped across the chair. “You may thank me later if our endeavor is successful.”

Lisette hurried forward to play hostess to the dinner guests, which suited him since it saved him the trouble of exchanging obligatory pleasantries. Once everyone was seated, he assisted Lisette to her chair before taking the seat across from her. It was time for the performance to begin.

Daniel scooped two dollops of mashed potatoes onto his plate then rubbed his hands together.

“Sailor’s Delight,” he pronounced, watching Rafe’s face to see if his words elicited any response.

The lad looked up from his plate of bread with what Daniel hoped was a spark of interest. Rafe’s unwavering eyes fixed on his face, which was an accomplishment in itself. If Daniel could entice Rafe to add another food to his repertoire, he would consider tonight’s venture successful.

Lisette reached for the serving spoon, and Daniel swatted her hand.

“Ouch!”

“None for you, madame.”

She huffed. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“This is Sailor’s Delight.” Daniel raised a brow. “Are
you
a sailor?”

“I’m most certainly not. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a lady.”

Daniel bit back a sarcastic reply. Lisette was all curves, softness, and graceful lines. Even a blind man wouldn’t mistake her for a man. “Well, the dish is not called Lady’s Delight, now, is it?”

Rafe glanced between them, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

“How thoughtless of your cook,” she said. “Why, hardly any of us at the table are seamen.”

Jake reached for the bowl and plopped a serving on his plate. “I’ve been a seaman, so I shall have a serving.”

Daniel’s first and second mates helped themselves as well, digging into the fare with exaggerated gusto.

Rafe tilted his head to the side. “What is Sailor’s Delight?”

Mademoiselle Vistoire patted his shoulder. “You heard the captain, dear child. It’s food for seafaring men.”

The stubborn set to the lad’s jaw reminded Daniel of Lisette. “I’m a sailor too.”

Daniel nodded toward Mademoiselle Vistoire. “He has worked by my side every day this week. He even took his turn at watch this afternoon. He too shall enjoy Sailor’s Delight.” Scooping a serving of potatoes, he placed the mound on Rafe’s plate, the silver spoon clicking against the china. The lad eyed the white lump and poked it with this fork several times before he hazarded a taste.

Rafe chewed slowly, contemplated the food, and then took another bite.

Daniel met Lisette’s gaze and winked. “Perhaps you should swab the decks tomorrow, madame. Then you too may enjoy Sailor’s Delight for dinner.”

A brush of her foot against his calf sent his heart into a gallop. The brief touch seemed intentional, affectionate, and it stirred something inside him unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

“Thank you, Captain Hillary. I shall take your suggestion under advisement.”

If only she were as amenable to his more inspired suggestions.

***

With Rafe below deck and under the care of Monsieur Patch, Lisette settled in for the evening reading. Her spirits were still soaring after their victory this evening. She glanced at Daniel and affection swelled within her heart. He had proven himself to be the champion she had needed. Rafe was not only safe under Daniel’s watch, he had blossomed.

The remaining travelers shared in her excitement, and laughter resonated in the cabin. She hadn’t experienced such camaraderie since living on the plantation more than a year ago.

As a child, Lisette had spent many days loitering in the kitchen at the family’s sugar farm. It had been one of her favorite places with the bustle and jesting among the staff.

In contrast, the family’s quarters had remained deathly quiet. Her mother had been sickly for a long time and required rest and solitude. She often stayed abed with the curtains drawn and took her meals alone in her room. Once an entire month passed without even a glimpse of Mama, and when Lisette finally saw her, her mother’s emaciated appearance had left her speechless.

Yet, everything had changed when her mother had carried Rafe. Mama had begun to laugh again, and Lisette had her mother back for those glorious months. But whereas Rafe had given Mama new life, the good Lord had snatched it away with his birth. Lisette had buried her mother nine years ago, her father a year ago. She wouldn’t lose her brother, too.

Amelia cleared her throat and began reading from Act IV of
Romeo
and
Juliet
.

Lisette was familiar with the tale, but she couldn’t help wishing for a happier outcome each time. Why did men persist in the belief true love must end in tragedy? Tristan and Isolde. Orpheus and Eurydice. Cleopatra and Marc Antony. Surely love affairs had happy endings, too.

At the conclusion of the reading, unshed tears gathered on Amelia’s lashes. “I apologize. It seems I’m prone to embarrassing emotional displays as of late.”

“You’ve always been a tenderhearted soul,” Monsieur Hillary said and helped her stand.

She entwined her arm with his and they moved toward the cabin door. “To say I’m a sentimental fool is more accurate.”

Lisette, Serafine, and Monsieur Timmons followed suit while Daniel seemed oblivious to their departure. Although everyone’s mood was more subdued than earlier in the evening, Daniel’s demeanor raised the alarm inside her. Something dark churned within the depths of his eyes when he met her curious stare. He looked away, denying her access.

“Good night, Daniel,” his brother called.

He responded with a curt nod.

She was the last to leave the cabin and paused at the threshold. She turned to bid him good night as well and found him hunched over, resting his head in his hands. He appeared so weary, as if he’d fought whatever battle was waging inside him a thousand times and was on the verge of surrender.

A pang in her heart urged her to rush forward to offer comfort, but she held back. Perhaps he preferred time alone with his thoughts, however troubling they might be. “Good night,” she said softly, closed the door, and followed her cousin.

She stopped at the hatch leading below deck.

Merde.
She couldn’t abandon Daniel when he clearly needed a kind word, perhaps even a confidant. He had been her champion this evening, and now it was her turn to rescue him.

“I forgot something in the captain’s quarters,” she said to Serafine and headed back toward his cabins.

“What did you forget?” Serafine yelled after her.

“The thing for the you know,” she mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Exactly. Just one moment, please.”

When she was certain Serafine wasn’t dogging her heels, she stopped outside the door to gather her wits. She knew the dangers involved with entering Daniel’s cabins alone this evening, but he’d been accepting of her limits thus far. Perhaps it was time to trust him with the truth. She could at least be honest with herself. She had grown to like his attentions and might be amenable to another kiss.

Ten

Daniel pulled a bottle of rum from the bookcase in his office. It was his best bottle, and he didn’t care to waste it on the vicar. Snatching up the glass resting on his desk, he poured a generous amount and left the bottle out. He sank into the only comfortable chair in his cabin and took a drink of the numbing liquor.

Nights were the hardest, and the evening’s reading brought back the worst of his memories. Cecily haunted him like an apparition. She was present everywhere in his quarters. The impractical china dishes gracing the hutch he’d had built for her. The large copper tub and hand-carved bed in his sleeping chamber. The plush rug resting along the bed where she could feel softness beneath her feet each morning. He had tried to make his ship fit for a lady of her station, the daughter of a governor, but nothing had pleased her.

He had failed before their marriage had even begun.

Daniel’s gaze landed on the gashed window seat and his jaw tightened. The chipped woodwork bore testament to Cecily’s fiery temper. She had launched a heavy tankard at him, missing her intended target and gouging the hand-carved scrolling instead of cracking his skull.

He couldn’t recall what had set her on a tear that particular time. Probably something inconsequential; this typically had been the case. What he did recollect was her fit of rage ending with a passionate tumble that had renewed his optimism in their suitability. They had repeated this pattern several times in the first weeks of their marriage until Daniel had abandoned hope. Abandoned Cecily.

The door to the great cabin creaked, and he bit back an oath. “Go away.”

He didn’t wish to speak with anyone, least of all his brother.

“Daniel?” Lisette’s lovely accent activated his heart, making it pound with vigor. She had come to him at last.

“Lisette?”

Her slippers scuffed against the plank floor as she moved through his quarters. She appeared at the threshold of his office. “Here you are.”

She twisted her hands together, making him smile. Her nervous habit drew his notice to her generous bustline, which her widow’s weeds had kept hidden from view. Not so with the lower-cut gown of muslin. The pristine white contrasted with her bronzed skin.

“I’m pleased you followed my advice to don lighter attire, my dear.”

“You are?” Her eyelashes fluttered as her gaze traveled the cabin, looking everywhere but at him. Her shyness was both endearing and yet irritating. She was a widow, not some innocent chit.

“Don’t simply stand there. Come in.” His snarl was unintended. Lisette was not the source of his ire. She was his only comfort.

“I take it Shakespeare is not to your liking.” She stopped in front of him, her eyes great pools of compassion. “Would you like me to speak with Amelia about selecting something less gloomy for tomorrow’s reading?”

He chuckled, the tension melting from his shoulders. So dear Lisette wished to protect him from the sappy words of romantic fools, did she? “Ask her to forgo the poetry too, will you, luv?”

“You dislike poetry?”

“Not altogether. I’m partial to a few bawdy rhymes.” He winked and reached toward her, his palm up in invitation. “Come here, sweetheart.”

At first, she stared, making no move to touch him. Yet she didn’t retreat either. She lifted her chin a fraction before placing her gloved hand in his and allowing him to ease her onto his lap. He adjusted her so that she perched sideways on his thighs, her face level with his.

She was a tempting armful, nibbling on her full bottom lip.

“Perhaps this was a bad idea,” she said, her gaze shooting toward the exit.

His arms tightened around her waist. “I have one comfortable chair in my private domain. I wouldn’t ask you to sit on the floor.”

She swallowed hard, two spots of pink coloring her cheeks. Lisette possessed the most beautiful skin. It glistened in the glow of the lantern light. Daniel trailed the back of his finger along her velvety jaw. Nothing about her was severe. She was gently curving lines and sweetness. And she was the tonic he needed to soothe his ruffled psyche.

“Did you wish to see me about something specific?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t been mistaken about her purpose in visiting his quarters.