The Beauty of the Mist (22 page)

As her husband’s hands continued their attempt to comfort her, roaming and kneading her back affectionately, Caroline tried to hold back any sign of her disgust. John’s arms were the ones she wanted around her. His words of endearment were the one’s she wanted to hear. Again, she lifted her eyes and cast a disdainful look at the Highlander’s attentiveness to the woman standing so close beside him.

“I wonder what the Queen of Hungary would say if she were to find out that the cabin set aside for her royal use had been so readily given out to some straggling sea...” Wenches, that’s what Caroline wanted to say, but she caught herself short. She was not stupid; she would not openly display her hostility in front of the old man. No, it was much better to go on and have him think that the sea travel was not to her liking.

“I can’t see Queen Mary minding much,” Sir Thomas answered. “Of course, you never can tell about royalty. But the lass hasn’t married King Jamie yet; we’ve still some details to work out. But I don’t think Sir John has any intention of bunking her in with the two women occupying the cabin, now.”

“A fortune was spent on this ship to make it perfect for a queen,” Caroline snapped, unable to hold back her anger any longer. “Now if you think the sister to Emperor Charles does not find dishonor in such a slight, then you’re a fool, and I am certain the Earl of Angus will see it differently.”

“My dear, you may be feeling a wee bit ill, but I’ll ask you to keep a civil tongue in your head. And I’ll tell you this, if you think John Macpherson would do differently just for fear of Angus’s wrath, I’m telling you you’re wrong. He is one who will do as he pleases, regardless of what Angus–or anyone else–might think. He’s the master of this ship, and no one here is about to challenge his decisions.” Sir Thomas softened his expression and drew his wife gently to his side. Frankly, he was delighted that the Macpherson was showing such interest in the Spanish lass. “You wouldn’t truly have expected Sir John to throw them back to the fish, now, would you?”

“Pulling them from the sea is long way from treating them like royalty,” she sulked.

“Come now, lass? What else was he to do? Let them fend for themselves with the sailors?” Sir Thomas clucked and shook his head. “They needed proper attention.”

“There are three other ships with us.” Caroline huffed. “Considering the importance of this mission, he should have done differently. And, say what you will, there will be the devil to pay once Angus finds out about this.”

Sir Thomas chuckled as he pulled her closer. “Ah, sweet, you just don’t understand the ways of men. Angus couldn’t care less what goes on before we reach Antwerp. And considering the lass’s obvious charms, he’d be the last one to begrudge John Macpherson a bit of dalliance. Surely, I’d not be the one to do it.”

Caroline’s temper boiled dangerously to the surface, but her voice was like cold steel. “Being a member of Douglas clan yourself, you have a responsibility here. It is disheartening to see how frivolously you take such a serious matter.”

Sir Thomas tried to sober his expression. He didn’t want to hurt his young wife’s feelings. “My dear, I’ve just said that Sir John doesn’t give a tinker’s damn for what others think. It’s true I’ve known him only a short time, but the man is...”

“You forget that I know him well.” Caroline shrugged off her husband’s embrace and turned to face him. “In fact, you’ve forgotten that I know him very well.” She smiled slightly as the older man’s face darkened. “You seem to have forgotten a lot of things. But again at your age that’s only to be expected.”

“Caroline!” the man’s cry was fierce and threatening, and carried in it the sound of a wounded bull.

“Aye,” she said coldly, using the word as a weapon, driving it deep into his chest.

Stunned, Sir Thomas stared at the stranger who stood before him.

“That is quite enough,” he growled, forcing down the feelings of impotence that were washing over him. “You will go below. I think you would do best to stay to our cabin.”

The blood pounding in his temples, Sir Thomas watched his wife turn slowly and walk away from him. The cold wind that he felt in his bones seemed to touch only him. Caroline Maule glided away, her cloak, her hair, her expression impassive, unperturbed, untouched.

Maria tried unsuccessfully to tuck her hair inside the hood of her cloak one more time, but the wind whistling across the high stern deck once again thwarted her efforts. Determined, she gathered the loose strands of her hair in her hand and fiercely pulled the silky black rope to one side. Frustrated, she glanced up, only to see the ship’s commander smiling down at her. Even his eyes, blue and sparkling, smiled.

“I must look like some sea serpent tangled up in the weeds.”

“Nay, lass. Though I might say you look like a beautiful princess who has been a bit rumpled by that sea serpent.”

“Rumpled?” Maria asked in dismay, trying vigorously to straighten her appearance.

“Aye, by that sea serpent.” John nodded before reaching over to assist in tucking in her hair. He had been looking for an excuse to touch her. The need to feel her hair, to place his lips on her soft skin had kept him up most of the night.

“Sea serpent?”

“When I was a wee lad, my father told us tales of sea serpents and princesses,” he answered, taking his time in smoothing Maria’s ebony hair. “When we’d play act the stories, I always got to be the creature. Rumpling the princess has always been my favorite part.”

“Well, you’re quite good at it.” She smiled, trying to not think of the irony of what he’d just said. His fingers brushed against her lips. As a shudder raced through her, Maria felt the urge to press her face against his chest and close her eyes to the world–and to everyone and everything in it. Everyone but him.

As if reading her mind, he took her arm in his and pressed it tightly to his side. She gave her arm willingly, but as she did, she glimpsed the tall blonde woman striding toward the door leading below decks. Even from this distance Maria could see the look of disdain Caroline Maule was directing toward them. “I think we might be putting on a scene for our fellow travelers.”

“Fellow travelers be damned!” John growled huskily. As he eyed the white patch of skin beneath her ear, it occurred to him that nothing would please him more right now than to place a kiss there. But sensing her hesitation, he drew back and leaned against the railing, stretching his arm protectively behind her. “I don’t stand around all day gawking at what they do. Why should they? You have nothing to do with them, so they can keep to their own business.”

Maria couldn’t help but agree. She
was
none of their business, and she never would be, if Fortune would smile on her, for once. God willing, never again would she let her life be directed by men like her brother Charles. She tucked a wayward wisp of hair behind her ear. Perhaps if she had shown enough courage and confronted her brother early on, her life might have taken a better path. But then, if she had, would she have ever met John Macpherson? The melancholy that the thought caused her was sharp and sudden.

Maria peered hesitantly about her. The men perched amid the sails aloft were busy at their tasks, and Caroline had disappeared below. There were no other eyes on them. A few of the ship’s officers could be seen moving along the decks, calling up to the men above and overseeing the tasks of those working on deck, but they were far too busy to pay any attention to the two of them. None of the Scottish nobles seemed to show much interest in being above decks, and there wasn’t a solitary soul enjoying the bright sunshine now. Except one. A solitary, thick-bodied man, standing with his back to them. He was leaning heavily on his hands and staring out to sea.

“Sir Thomas Maule,” John said, having followed the direction of her gaze. “I don’t think you’ve ever been formally introduced to him, have you?”

“Nay, I haven’t,” she replied. “Someday, perhaps–but not now–I’d like to thank him in person.”

“Thank him?” John asked curiously. “For what?”

“For breaking in on us as he did two nights ago.” She turned her bright, green eyes back to him for a moment before laying her hands on the railing and looking out at the shimmering sea. “If it wasn’t for him showing up at your cabin when he did the other night, you would never have kissed me. We would never have...”

Maria paused, flushed and self-conscious in her thoughts of the previous night. Of what he’d done to her, standing in the dark, here on this same deck. The recollection was heavenly, but still too embarrassing to speak of aloud.

John laid his great paw gently on her slender hands. “With or without Sir Thomas and his felicitous sense of timing, it was only matter of the time before I would have kissed you, Maria. I know that, from the time I set eyes on you, I looked forward to tasting your lips.”

She shuddered at the feel of his warm fingers caressing her cold and bloodless hands. She gazed up into his face and smiled wryly.

“Is this the standard treatment you give all of the women you find drifting at sea?”

“You know, it’s quite odd, lass,” the Highlander responded, smiling back at her. “I have sailed the seas for more than half of my life, and you are the very first woman I’ve ever found floating in the sea.” Her eyes were a bewitching color, mesmerizing. They drew him in, stealing his breath away with their depth and vibrancy. And now the glow in her face only added to her incomparable charms. She was obviously pleased of the answer he’d given her.

“I am glad,” she whispered. “I am glad to be the first one.”

His hand tightened around her fingers.

“And you...” she continued. “...you are the first...as well.”

“The first?” he asked questioningly.

“The first,” she said haltingly. “Well...to treat me...as a woman. The first to desire me...to cherish me. You gave me such pleasure that I felt fires exploding within me. I thought I’d been lifted among the stars.”

John’s fingers tightened around her shoulders. He didn’t care that others were around. That they were standing in the open, in the daylight. “Your husband? Didn’t he ever...”

She shook her head. “What you did to me last night,” she paused, trying to build her courage. “I never felt such...I never thought it could be possible...”

He could wait no longer. Taking her hand roughly in his own, he started for the steps.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

“To my cabin.”

“But you said last night....” she hushed her tone, looking cautiously around her. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

He didn’t break stride. He neither turned to answer nor even acknowledge her question. Feeling her excitement grow as she moved quickly beside him, Maria found herself hoping desperately that he had changed his mind. For too long she had accepted the child’s role in her life. She would live the life of a woman, now. Whatever he had in mind for her in his cabin was more than acceptable to her. There was only one thing that mattered now and that was being with him.

Just him.

“Come, come, come, tell me, girl. Who is he? What is his name? Does your family approve of him?” Seeing the deep blush on Janet Maule’s face, Isabel kept up the gentle assault. “Perhaps I should ask, does your family
know
of him?”

Very little went unnoticed with Isabel. Holding onto the younger woman’s arm, she had led the way up and back the length of the room a number of times. The physician, visiting Isabel earlier, had seen nothing wrong with her wish to get up and move about more. Her shoulder wound was healing nicely and, with the exception of some stiffness in her joints, Isabel was feeling more herself every day.

“Silence is a very becoming trait in young women, but when it is accompanied by flickers of smiles and then deep blushes, an experienced woman always knows...” Isabel stopped pacing and turned her full attention on Janet. The older woman watched with a keen eye as the sandy-haired girl’s complexion took on the hue of a harvest sunset while her gaze locked on her hands.

Janet peered hesitantly up into the older woman’s face, unable to untie the knot in her tongue.

“Your mother–she has passed away, hasn’t she?”

“Aye,” Janet replied simply.

“Maria likes you. She talks about you quite a bit. She is the one who told me of your family and your new stepmother. It must be difficult not having anyone you can confide in. Let me tell you something; Maria has had much the same problem for most of her life. I think that’s one reason why she has really taken to you.”

“Did her mother pass away, as well?” Janet asked quietly.

“Nay, she is alive,” Isabel replied, shaking her head. “My sister is still alive, but she might as well be dead. She has an illness, and that, together with some rather difficult family circumstances, has kept her from her children since they were babies. Maria wasn’t even a year old when her mother was taken away. Bah, I don’t know how I got started on that. This is not the time for sad stories.”

“I am sorry,” Janet responded. “It must be very sad for Maria...and for your sister.”

“It does no good to talk of my sister’s woes, child. Let’s talk about your problems. Things we can mend.” Isabel started for the group of table and chairs placed by the small, open window. Janet followed in her wake. The cool breeze flowing in the opening was fresh and clean.

After seating herself in the chair, Isabel gestured for the younger woman to do the same. “Now tell me, child, what is troubling you this morning. I have been watching you since you came in here. You seem cheerful enough on the surface, but I see those looks. There is something weighing on you, now isn’t there?”

Janet lifted her eyes to meet Isabel’s. It had been only a few short days since she had first lain eyes on the elder woman, but there was something in her manner, in the firmness and authority that one could hear in her words. One perceived the sense of caring, of promised friendship, that had made a new acquaintance want to trust her, to share with her troubles–and heartaches.

What Isabel said was true. Janet had no one. No one to turn to for counsel, for advice. And right now, with all she was feeling for David and after all he felt for her, the young woman needed good counsel. Someone devoid of malice. Someone with a sense of balance, of compassion and reason.