Swept Away (28 page)

“Well, no, but—”

“Not all storms at sea are hurricanes,” Raven informed her with an easy grin. “Let’s hope this one is no more than a passing squall. Please don’t be frightened. The
Jamaican Wind
has sailed through far worse storms than this with no damage. My men know what to do. All you need do is stay here in my cabin where you’ll be safe. Why don’t you go back to sleep for a while and then just spend the rest of the day in bed reading? That way you won’t risk a fall. I’ll see you’re sent something to eat during the day, but the cook’s put out his fires to avoid any accidents, so other than this pot of tea it won’t be anything hot.”

“I understand.” As usual, Eden didn’t feel well upon waking. She doubted she would get hungry, and the prospect of spending the day in bed was enormously appealing. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave. What about Max and Samuel? Will you be able to spare anyone to look after them?”

Raven could scarcely believe his ears. “After what they did to you, how can you be concerned about those two?”

The answer obvious in her view, Eden shrugged before she replied. “Just because they treated me badly doesn’t mean I’ll not show them compassion. Won’t they be pretty miserable for several days?”

“I certainly hope so. That was the whole point of flogging them. Look, even if the sea were as calm as glass, I’d not allow you to tend them. Caring for wounded in a military hospital is one thing; looking after disobedient seamen is quite another. Now I’ve got to get back up on deck. Be careful—do it for Alex’s babe if not for me.”

He had reached the door before Eden had the presence of mind to call out to him. She didn’t want to let him go thinking she would have disregarded his wishes had he not invoked Alex’s name. “Raven, don’t worry, I’ll stay put. You be careful too.”

Raven winked at her before going out the door, and Eden again marveled at how short his memory was when it came to their fights. While not holding a grudge was an admirable trait, there was also the possibility he did not consider their conflicts important enough to merit remembering. That thought was so unnerving Eden lost all interest in going back to sleep.

She got up briefly, poured herself a cup of tea, then got back into the bunk to drink it while she munched a biscuit. As she ate slowly, she decided the greatest point Raven had in his favor was that he had enjoyed Alex’s unequivocal trust and love. Alex would not have always spoken so highly of Raven if the young man were not worthy of such elaborate praise.

Something was definitely wrong between them, however. Raven constantly showed her his worst side and he brought out the same in her. They could make love and play Captain’s Mistress without arousing either’s anger, but there was little else that they could share without abusing each other at least verbally. Eden raised her hand to her swollen mouth. Raven hadn’t hit her, but he might as well have since the resulting damage to her face was the same.

If all they could do was make love and play games, she had made the wrong choice, Eden mused darkly. She ought to have become Raven’s mistress rather than his wife. She had never heard of a man beating his mistress, but she knew there were many men like Paul Jessup at Briarcliff who thought nothing of hitting their wife.

Determined to avoid another wretched scene with Raven, Eden spent the day trying to decide how best to approach him on the subject of their marriage. She knew nothing about his parents. Perhaps they had had such a stormy relationship he thought all husbands and wives spent the better portion of their time together fighting.

“That’s the problem,” Eden surmised with the faint smile she could still manage. “I don’t know Raven well enough to understand why he behaves as though he were possessed by demons at times.” They needed the opportunity to talk about topics which couldn’t possibly create any friction between them, and she decided their childhood was the best place to begin. Unfortunately the storm continued to buffet the ship with such force that Raven could not spare any time to spend with her.

The dark-eyed earl had intentionally underestimated the storm’s severity, for Eden’s benefit. He had seen worse, but not in recent years, and wasn’t looking forward to the backbreaking toil required to keep the ship afloat in heavy seas. There had been no point in complaining to his bride even though she was a captain’s daughter, however. Knowing Eden, he believed she would probably have offered to take a turn at the bilge pump and he would not allow that.

Eighteen hours passed before Raven returned to his cabin. Drenched to the skin and chilled clear through, he wanted only to peel off his wet clothes and sleep for a couple of hours. His teeth were chattering so loudly as he lurched through the door he feared he would disturb Eden, but he found her wide awake.

Eden sprang from the bunk, then had to grab the side to keep from going sprawling. There were extra blankets stored in the drawers beneath the bunk and she hurriedly pulled out one. “I’ve been so worried about you! Come here and let me help you out of those clothes.”

Raven started to protest that he could undress himself. Then he discovered his hands were so numb from the cold he couldn’t unbutton his heavy wool jacket. He was wearing gloves, but removing them also proved to be a bigger chore than he could manage. “Would you please?” he mumbled as he made his way toward her, attempting to balance his steps against the ship’s sway.

Eden reached out for him, and also timing her motions to those of the ship, she helped him drop into one of the chairs at the table. As soon as she had removed his coat, sweater, and shirt, she draped the dry blanket around his bare shoulders. “It’s way past midnight. Are all the men working such long hours as you?”

Snugly wrapped in the blanket, Raven began to rock back and forth slowly in an attempt to get warm. “They have no choice. If the ship sinks, we’ll all drown. That grisly thought inspires more work than even the threat of a whip would.”

“I’ll be damned if I’ll drown!” Eden exclaimed as she yanked off his right boot. It was so saturated with water the leather squished like a wet sponge when she tossed it aside and reached for his left. “I’ve no intention of being widowed again either,” she added as an afterthought.

Raven reached out to ruffle her curls. “None of us is going to drown. The
Jamaican Wind
is so well built she floats like a cork even in the worst of storms. A little rain will never sink her.”

“What about the wind? It’s been howling like a banshee for hours.”

“It sounds much worse down here than it really is,” Raven lied again. He recalled telling her how much he hated having women fawn over him, but Eden was pulling off his wet clothes with an abandon that was quite endearing. She was treating him as though he were a small boy who had fallen in a pond and gotten his best suit wet rather than as a sea captain who was no stranger to damp clothing. He had never been pampered as a child, and savored her attentions with a delight he found nearly impossible to hide. Only the fact his face was nearly frozen kept him from grinning from ear to ear. When she had stripped him down to his bare skin, he was sorry he had not been wearing another couple of layers of clothing to keep her busy longer.

Eden hung Raven’s wet garments from the backs of the chairs and then dried his thick curls with a towel. His teeth were still chattering, which was most definitely not an erotic sound, but they so seldom touched unless they were making love that she believed the direction in which her thoughts were straying was understandable. She blushed at the indecency of them, however. She had forgotten that Raven’s handsome appearance ought to be considered a point in his favor too.

Knowing she could scarcely expect him to take her criticisms of their problems seriously if she allowed his attractiveness to distract her, she forced herself to think of him only as a very tired and cold man, nothing more. She helped him into his bunk still wrapped tightly in the blanket, climbed in after him, and snuggled close. She had added extra blankets to the bunk earlier in the day, and the bedclothes still held her warmth.

“You’ll be warm in just a little while,” she assured him. “I really have been terribly worried about you. I know you’re too tired to talk now, but when the storm’s passed, we’ve got to find a way to get along better than we have been. We’ve got to stop being so hateful to each other, Raven. We’ve just got to.”

Eden waited for him to make some sort of reassuring comment, then she realized by the slow, even rhythm of his breathing that he had already fallen asleep. She had known he had to be exhausted, but she had not expected him to go to sleep without thanking her for helping him. Perhaps he had expected it because she was his wife, but she did not think it would have cost him anything to offer a word of gratitude in response. Again hurt that her feelings meant so little to him, she lay awake listening to the constant eerie wail of the wind and thinking Raven was a damn liar for telling her the storm was no threat to their safety. She then whispered a prayer for all those aboard the
Jamaican Wind
and the
Southern Knight
as well.

Raven awakened after only four hours’ sleep. His circulation now fully restored, he managed the agility required to climb over Eden without waking her. Fortunately he had plenty of dry clothes and again dressed warmly before leaving the cabin for what he fully expected would be another exceedingly long day. Despite the brevity of his rest, the inherent danger of their situation was so exhilarating he felt a renewed strength that made him immune to the effects of fatigue. He relished a challenge, whether it was one presented by man or nature, and relieved Randy with an eagerness that left the weary mate shaking his head in wonder.

Even though the hatches were securely sealed, the ship was still taking on water, but diligent manning of the bilge pump kept the level of the encroaching sea at a minimum. Raven assigned the men to brief periods of time at the pump so none grew exhausted and slow. It was hard work, and that it had to be done in the dank bowels of the ship made it no less tiresome. The consequences of slacking off at the job were so dire, however, that none of the men were prone to laziness when it came their turn.

Unable to light a fire to heat food, the cook asked for a barrel of salt fish, one of crackers, and another of beer to wash down the unappetizing fare. The sailors sent to the hold on that errand soon returned crying for help for one of the men who had suffered an accident.

Raven held his lantern aloft as he hurried down the ladder into the aft section of the hold where the ship’s provisions were stored. That he didn’t hear screaming struck him as a good sign until he reached the injured man and found he had suffered a crushing blow to the chest and couldn’t utter more than an anguished whisper. Hanging the lantern on a peg, Raven bent down beside the young merchant seaman.

“I don’t want to risk moving you, John, but we’ll make you as comfortable as we can here.” Raven looked toward the men who had been with him. “How did this happen?”

A burly man named Owen stepped from the shadows. “We’d untied the ropes to free one of the barrels of beers but before we could get a hold of it, it tipped and went rolling right over John. It’s the storm, captain. We couldn’t hold the barrel with the ship bouncing up and down like a fat woman’s breasts. It weren’t our fault.”

Raven’s expression mirrored his concern. He and Alex had argued over having a surgeon on board, but Alex had always protested that Julian fussed over him so much when he was at home, he was not about to have another physician around to spoil his enjoyment of their voyages. That seemed a trivial complaint now that one of the men had been so badly hurt. Most mishaps on board ship were due to carelessness of one kind or another, and Raven thought that a cause in this case as well but there was no sense in berating Owen for not being more careful when John was gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Someone had brought a couple of blankets, and Raven used one to cover John, then doubled up the other to prop him up slightly. He seemed to be able to breathe easier for a short while, then he weakened and began to call a woman’s name.

“Who’s Molly?” Raven asked Owen.

“She’s the redhead that works at the Fife and Drum in Kingston. John fancies he loves her, but you know the type of lass she is.” Owen shrugged slightly, conveying the impression John’s affection was misplaced.

When John closed his eyes and continued to moan Molly’s name, Raven expected each breath to be the man’s last. He hated to see anyone die in so senseless an accident. Suddenly realizing he could at least ease the man’s mind, he rose and told the men gathered around he would return shortly. He hoped it would be in time to do some good.

Eden was dressed only in her nightgown, but Raven gave her no time to don more than her slippers and heavy black wool cloak. “I need you to do a favor for one of the men. He’s been so badly hurt I doubt he’ll live more than another minute or two, but I want you to pretend you’re his girl. Can you do it?”

Readily grasping his sense of urgency, Eden could only promise to try. “I did that many times in the hospital in Richmond. Near the end of a man’s life, any feminine voice seems to sound like that of the woman he loves.”

“Let’s hope it works again then.” Raven took her hand and, exercising all possible caution, guided her down the succession of ladders that led to the hold. Without further prompting, Eden started to make her way through the men gathered around John.

“What’s her name?” she turned to call over her shoulder.

“Molly, and he’s John Rawlings,” Raven whispered.