Swept to Sea

by Heather Manning

  Captain Archer rose from his position on the armchair that had been situated next to the bed and moved to sit beside her on the bed. He put his arms around her and held her against him tightly. Gently, he cradled her head so the part that was hurt was not jostled.

  At first she tensed, but she had never felt so comfortable, so safe, with a man before. She slowly laid her head against his strong chest. Really, she should not have. What would Ivy and Aimee think of her?

  "No. Let me go." She spun suddenly in his arms and banged her fists against his chest in an effort to free herself, panicking suddenly.

  "Lady Trenton, I promise…" His face fell as he released her from his arms. She had hurt the poor man's feelings.

  Eden stood abruptly. "No, it’s not that I don’t trust you, Captain. I'm sorry; I-I do trust you, it's just that… well, it simply is most improper. Isn't it? I should not let you hold me like that… people would think me… I don't know. A… an immoral woman." Just thinking about it made her head injury throb.

  "Nay, milady. You are nothing of the kind, believe me," he chuckled, shaking his head, "in fact, you seem to be quite the opposite. You are a perfect lady. Besides, no one can see you at the moment to gossip. No one besides me, that is." He winked and planted another gentle kiss on the top of her head.

  "Please, let us stop talking about this. It makes my head hurt all the more.” She glanced away, startled at what she saw in those blue eyes. For a moment, they sat that way, him peering into her eyes. Finally, she spoke, “Thank you so much for being so kind to me. You are the… I think you are the kindest man I have ever met."

  Captain Archer chortled. "I think you certainly need to rest now. I am not the nicest man you have ever met." He tucked the coverlet around her shoulders as if she were nothing but a child and he, a loving parent. Why did he not tuck Reed in at night like this? She would have to speak with him some other time about neglecting the dear six year old. The child needed a loving father who spent more time with him. But she could discuss his parenting choices another day. Right now he was being kind to her, and she did not want that moment to go away.

  "But you really are kind," she murmured, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. Before she knew it, she tumbled back into a restless sea of dreams.

  ****

  Ivy marched across the deck of Captain Emery’s ship, the Cross's Victory. She leaned over the rail of the boat and pressed a hand over her restless stomach in a weak attempt to calm it.

  Ugh! She hated the sea. Hated it! Before she could control it, she felt the contents of her belly spill out into the roiling ocean.

  A gentle, brotherly hand settled on her back. She looked up to see Matthew leaning over her, a grim look on his handsomely structured face.

  "Mayhap we should not have brought you along, milady. It seems as if your body does not agree with sailing." He handed her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth with.

  "No, sailing does not agree with my stomach. Right now, however, I feel quite better. I pray it will last." Six days of vomiting what little Aimee had convinced her to eat had begun to take its toll on her.

  "Well, I promise I shall keep you in my pray—"

  Their conversation was interrupted by a shrill scream.

  "What on earth was that?" Matthew glanced around the deck of the ship, appearing rather frightened.

  "I believe that was Aimee," sighed Ivy, hurrying down the companionway.

  What on earth had Aimee gotten herself into?

  ****

  "Are you quite all right, Lady Dawson? May I enter?" Matthew shouted, pounding his fist on the door of Aimee’s and Ivy's cabin. Whimpering sounded from the cabin. Terrified whimpering.

  "Yes — come in. Please." His heart sank at her trembling voice. What could have frightened her so?

  He burst open the door and sped in, Ivy on his heels. The scent of lavender erased the saltiness of the sea outside. Aimee was standing on the top of her cot, her pretty face pale-white in terror.

  "Whatever happened?" Instinctively, Matthew grabbed her waist in his hands and lowered her to the floor. After he realized what he had just done, his hands dropped to his sides as he felt a heated blush creep up his neck and across his face.

  "There-there was a… a rat," she sobbed, reaching to go into his arms.

  Matthew side-stepped her grasp. He had to hold back a grin at her childishness.

  Lady Shaw moved forward and took the frightened young woman’s hand. “Shush, Aimee.”

  "Shall I get rid of the ferocious beastie for you, my princess?" Matthew chuckled and rolled his eyes.

  The girl glared up at him. "You couldn't anyway. It escaped down… down that little hole right there." She pointed to a crack in the deck and a shiver rattled her shoulders.

  Matthew glanced at Lady Shaw, who was staring at her friend, a deep frown in her forehead.

  "Do you wish me to cover up the hole so no more devious monsters creep their way in to harm you, princess?"

  "Well, what if it had come in during the night and crawled over me while I was sleeping? Just to think… ugh!" She shivered, looking away.

  He could not help but laugh at Lady Dawson’s foolishness. "Well, it shall happen no more, I promise you. I will send a man in to fix it when the time comes. Now, I am needed above, milady. Good day to you, then." He left with a nod for Lady Dawson and Lady Shaw.

  Chapter Nine

  Aimee Dawson sat on the edge of her cot, wary of every miniscule sound that reached her ears. Where had the rat gone? Oh, goodness, this rodent would be the loss of her sanity.

  The ship creaked, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. This had to stop. Truly, she despised life at sea. Back home in her comfy little bedchamber or parlor there would be no rats, and she would have nothing to worry about. A maid was at her beck and call, and she had nice food and the best fineries. Now, she was crammed with Ivy in a room she could barely stand upright in. She was missing her home and her family more than she had ever thought she would, and the added worry of rodents was no comfort at all.

  A visit to Captain Emery would solve the problem entirely. It had been a few days since her encounter with the rat, and he had not done anything about the hole in the floor of the cabin. Far too long. She trudged her way up the companionway to the captain’s cabin and knocked on the door tentatively, nervous of his reaction. The man had never seemed to like her.

  "Yes?" He opened the wooden slab.

  "Ah, princess, do come in." He stepped aside for her to enter.

  Aimee glowered at him for calling her by that wretched nickname. She was no princess. Just because he was poor and jealous gave him no excuse to belittle her.

  "What is it that you want, Lady Dawson?"

  She took a deep breath. Why should she care if he thought her to be a frightened little brat? Matthew — Captain Emery already believed she performed that role. Insolent cur.

  She sighed. That was not the right way to act toward the man, no matter how annoying he could be, and she knew it full well.

  "I am sorry, sir-"

  "What have you done with Lady Dawson?" he interrupted. "I do believe I never expected to hear the words ‘I am sorry’ uttered from the vain princess' lips."

  Aimee glowered up at him, anger equal with her blood shooting through her veins. How was she supposed to be kind to him when he acted like that to her? "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by you, sir, I am sorry, but I believe it has been over two days and the hole in my cabin floor still has not been repaired yet. What if another rat crawls in?” She cringed, barely able to speak the words. “I simply could not bear it."

  He laughed. He possessed a deep, hearty laugh. A musical laugh.

  She hated it. Hated him. He was mocking her.

  He stood up, and his scent of cedar drifted over her. "Ah, I knew the princess had graced me with her company today out of reasons purely for her own pretty self. You see, I understand you. We would not want a rat bite to scathe that faultless complexion of yours."r />
  Aimee drew in a deep, stuttering breath. Why, she had never been insulted in such a demeaning way. What had she ever done to Captain Emery to make him loathe her so? She had no memory of the action, whatever it might be. Before she had known the man well, she had thought him quite handsome and… charming. Even now, she hated to admit she still liked the look of his features, how his broad shoulders filled out his coat, and the way his golden-blond hair curled at his pure-white collar. The man simply was infuriating.

  "Just because you are a blasted man and I am not… and you can protect yourself and I cannot… just because I am rich and you aren't… simply because you are not frightened by a freakishly big rat… doesn't mean I am not! Rats terrify me!”’ Aimee threw her hands in the air and stood up to her full height. She was a short woman, but she could look into his face without straining. “When will you stop constantly belittling me in this wretched way? I am — I am simply sick and tired of that arrogant, pious grin of yours that is always planted on your face when you are talking to me! I truly cannot stand you!" She smacked her hand across his insolent, charming face before she could control herself.

  He grabbed her arm, pure anger burning in his eyes for a split second. But then his eyes — the stark color of a midnight sky — softened into shock.

  "Forgive me. I should not be so cruel to you, milady."

  She glared up at him, pulling out of his stunned grasp. Rather than replying, she focused her attention on a splinter in the wooden floorboards.

  Silence consumed the room before he finally spoke. "I will go with you to repair the hole immediately. I apologize for letting it slip my mind, Lady Dawson," he declared.

  "Nay, send one of your men — your sailors. I do not wish for your presence in my cabin. I cannot stand the mere sight of you." As she began to turn away, he firmly grabbed her by the elbow.

  "So am I to understand that the flawless princess prefers a simple sailor — one who is hardly God-fearing, I am sure, one who has no respect for ladies like you — to me, the merchant captain preparing to become a missionary?"

  "I am certain they would not be half as arrogant as you are." Before she could explode into an outburst of anger — which she knew she would do any minute — she rushed out of the cabin without a further word to Captain Emery.

  ****

  Matthew sank down onto a wooden chair in his cabin. He was not arrogant. It took all his self-control to not go out the door and stop Lady Dawson.

  If she was not so concerned about her appearance every second of the day, maybe she would notice he was far more than what she thought she saw.

  Foolish woman.

  Matthew gazed out at the sea through his porthole. They still had a few weeks left before they reached the Caribbean, and there was still no sign of Lady Trenton. An overseer at the Port of London had given Matthew a list of all of the ships sailing for the Caribbean, so Matthew had told all of his crew to be on the lookout for those vessels. They also were warned to be searching for a privateer ship rented by Lord Rutger.

  Matthew was eager to visit the churches in the Caribbean, once they reached the area with Lady Trenton safely in their care. He had been fascinated by the mission work that was happening in the exotic islands the last time he had been in the Caribbean.

  During his years being raised by Reverend Dobbs, who had taken him in when his mother had left him on the doorstep of the church, Matthew had always longed to join in spreading the Gospel to the far edges of the world.

  He hoped to plan another expedition to the Caribbean to personally participate in a mission once he got the ladies on his ship home to safety in London.

  ****

  Caspian sat on the steps to the top of the forecastle deck and sighed.

  It had been a trying day. Three of his men were below deck with a sickness, probably what Lady Trenton had been under the weather with, and he had almost put Kelton back in the brig again. The man — boy, really, although he was only a couple of years younger than Caspian — had been lurking outside of Caspian's cabin, no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of the beautiful Lady Trenton in a compromising situation. Caspian had given the rude man a flogging for his insolence to the sweet Lady Trenton. Then, he sent the man below deck before the fool could do anything else to frighten the poor lady.

  Once they arrived in Port Royal, Caspian planned to rid the crew of this man. He was proving to be far more trouble than he was worth.

  A fierce giggling came from behind Caspian. He turned to search for the creator of the noise he had barely heard on his ship since Isabelle had died. Lady Trenton was by the railing, leaning over while Reed whispered into her ear. Caspian strolled over to the lady and leaned over her other ear as his son had.

  "I believe the young lad is making me quite jealous," he whispered, breathing in her intoxicatingly feminine scent of coconut and vanilla.

  She jerked her head to the side away from him, a baffled look twisting her comely features.

  "How could little Reed possibly make a man like you jealous?" She worried her bottom lip the way he had begun to notice she did a lot.

  "Well,” he rubbed his chin and took a step closer to her. She stepped back. “You allow him to get so close to you, and you giggle when you talk to him… and with me, well, I get nothing…"

  "May I remind you he is your own offspring, Captain?"

  Caspian grinned, delighted with the hint of the compliment she paid him. He laughed. "I suppose so, but I fear you hold no affection for the child's papa."

  The beautiful woman offered him an alluring smile that caused heat to rush over his body, all the way down to his toes and the tips of his fingers. "Whatever would make you think such a thing, Captain?"

  He could not contain his smile, realizing that in the past few days she had become far less cautious of him.

  After winking at her, he moved to face his young son. "Reed, my boy, will you please help Master Clarion down in the galley?" Caspian asked, intending to steal some time alone with Eden.

  "Of course, Papa." Caspian watched as his son skipped away joyfully.

  Eden's smile faded slowly as her eyes followed the child who was hopping off. Caspian wondered if she wanted a child of her own. By the look on her face, it would seem so. Maybe he would ask her sometime. Later.

  The woman rotated back toward him. “Captain, I think you should spend some more time with Reed. He is a good boy, and he deserves more of his father’s time.”

  Caspian let out a loud breath. Right now he did not want to talk about her questioning him as a parent. He was far too distracted by the way her beautiful hair curled and was tossed around in the wind… he did not wish to become upset with her when she was looking up at him so sweetly.

  She rubbed her head, obviously waiting for his answer. He did not wish to give one.

  Instead of replying, Caspian moved her fingers aside to run his fingers over her wound. It was healing nicely and had become only a scar now. He was glad the surgeon had assured them no permanent damage had been done.

  He found it hard to believe that anything could feel as soft as her umber curls.

  "How is your head, milady? Does it hurt much anymore?"

  "It has been recovering quite well and only hurts when I touch it. I suppose it has been three weeks now. As you can see, Mr. Davis allowed me to remove the bandage."

  "I am quite glad." He privileged himself with the liberty of running his fingers through those dark tresses. When she smiled up at him, the light smattering of freckles that appeared only on her nose scrunched up.

  "You get a little dimple in your cheek when you smile. Did you know that?"

  She shook her head. "No.”

  The dimple was quite pretty.

  She frowned, and he leaned forward to lightly kiss the tiny line between her eyebrows. "What makes you so sad, sweetheart? Why do you frown like that?" He brushed a lock of hair from the girl's face.

  "Oh, I was just wondering, how far are we from Port Royal?"

&n
bsp; "We’re about a week and a half — possibly a fortnight away. Why?"

  "It’s nothing, really. I just shall miss Reed. And… you very much once we get there…" she answered, looking away. The ship plunged over a rolling swell and Caspian caught her by the waist, drawing her close.

  "Who says it will be good-bye for good once we reach the port, milady? I shall see for certain that you are safe in Port Royal before the thought of leaving you even passes through my mind. Besides, we can write letters. I’m sure Reed will insist on that. Maybe I will visit you in your new home, wherever that might be…" He put a finger under her chin and turned her face to make her look him in the eyes.

  She smiled again. Caspian felt a sudden longing to kiss those perfect, smiling pink lips. He tucked his hand under her chin and leaned closer to the woman until he was only mere inches from her mouth.

  She placed her hands on his shoulders, and suddenly he realized he had drawn her all the way against himself. Something tugged on his pant leg as he lowered his mouth to hers. A tugging on his pant leg…

  What?

  “Papa! Are you going to kiss Miss Eden?”

  Reed.

  Caspian glanced at Lady Trenton, who had jumped out of his arms the second she heard Reed’s voice. She was hiding her face behind her hands, her skin a brighter shade of red than he could have imagined.

  “You should kiss Miss Eden, Papa. I think she would like it if you kissed her. Wouldn’t you, Miss Eden?” The young boy peered up at Eden innocently, obviously not understanding what he was saying. She looked positively mortified, and Caspian had a hard time holding back his laughter.

  “Yes, ‘Miss Eden’, I think you just might like that, wouldn’t you?” Caspian grabbed the young woman’s hand in his, pulling her closer to him.

  She jerked away. “You helped cook our meal, Reed? Did you enjoy it?”

  "Mr. Clarion allowed me to stir the batter for the biscuits. He told me they’ll be the best biscuits the crew has ever tasted!" Reed moved toward the woman in Caspian’s place, tugging on the skirt of her dress.

  "I am sure Mr. Clarion appreciated the help you gave him. You will make a fine cook someday. I am certain of it!" Eden hugged Reed.