He smiled at her. The potato in his beard spread. “Enjoying your potatoes?”
She paused with the last forkful halfway to her mouth and swallowed a laugh. “Yes.”
He leaned toward her. “Are you really?”
She hid her annoyance as she returned her last bite to the plate. “They are surprisingly tasty.”
“Surprisingly?” He drew back. “Did you not expect such elegant cuisine aboard our ship?”
Eliza opened her mouth to apologize for her low expectations, but swallowed her words. There was a twinkle in his eyes. He was teasing her. She exhaled.
He winked at her!
She tensed. Did anyone notice his impertinence? She appraised the others, but all were either engaged in conversation or focused on their meal.
All except Daniel.
His gaze met hers, flicked to the captain, then returned to hers with a raised brow.
She schooled her expression not to reveal her embarrassment and turned to the captain. She whispered, “Captain Swenson, please!”
He chuckled and winked again before digging into the beef that had been placed before him.
She scraped at the meat on her plate. He could not be flirting with her. It simply was not possible. She’d heard scandalous stories of captains at sea, but who could be unfaithful to a woman as kind as Mrs. Swenson? Was he one of those who believed winking was harmless? Perhaps she was overreacting. Maybe the captain was overwhelmed with relief to be out to sea once more and was letting his joviality overcome his good sense. Yes. That must be it. Therefore, her best recourse would be to ignore him until he’d had sufficient time to adjust and return to his normal self. She stabbed a large piece and shoved it into her mouth. Cecilia’s rules be hanged. She would keep her focus on her plate for the remainder of the meal.
A few moments later, the captain coughed, but she pretended not to hear.
He cleared his throat and coughed again.
The gentlemen across from her enquired whether he was well.
Eliza concentrated on cutting her beef into the smallest possible pieces and slipping them into her mouth. Cecilia would be proud of that, at least.
Having assured the other man of his good health, the captain waved his fork at her plate. “You seem to be enjoying your beef.”
Shoving several small pieces into her mouth at once, she focused on her plate. “Mmm.”
He set his cutlery down and inched his hand across the table. She dropped her own cutlery with a clatter and shoved her hands into her lap.
Swiveling away, she caught the attention of the middle-aged, golden-haired gentlemen to her right. “What did you think of Sausalito?” The Virginia had anchored there that afternoon while their casks were refilled with fresh water.
“Well, I had seen it once before, you know, in ’49. I was surprised…” The man went on to describe the changes he’d noted between their current voyage and his previous one. Eliza feigned fascination with the topic, adding the proper encouragements where needed to keep him talking about his travels at sea.
A few minutes later, as dessert was being served, something nudged her foot.
She glimpsed the edge of the captain’s boot pressed against her own. Jerking her foot away, Eliza jumped to her feet, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. The previous low hum of conversation came to a halt as the men surged to their feet. One man was nudged into compliance by the man beside him.
Her cheeks warmed. “Please, excuse me.” She mumbled and gave a little curtsy. “I am feeling unwell.” She spun toward her room.
The captain stepped into her path. “Allow me to escort you, Miss Brooks.” He offered his arm.
She gritted her teeth but kept her expression neutral. “Thank you, Captain, but it’s a short walk. I’m sure I can manage.”
“Please, I insist.” He took her hand and placed it on his arm. “After all”—he raised his voice—“as captain it is my duty to ensure the safety of the passengers.”
All eyes were on her.
Why was Mr. Clarke glaring? Oh, what did it matter? He seemed always put out by her. Even when she’d done nothing wrong.
She dipped her chin and the captain led her the few steps to her corridor, around the corner, and to her cabin door.
“Thank you, sir. Good night.”
“You’re not still upset with me, are you?”
“I…” Was he apologizing for his behavior at dinner, or referring to his wife’s unexpected absence?
“Because I truly am sorry, my dear.” The ship swayed a little and he braced himself with a hand on her cabin door. “Forgive me?” His gray eyes appeared anything but repentant as he placed his other hand on the door beside her head.
Eliza shrank against the wood. “Of course.” If telling him he was forgiven would get him to leave, she was happy to do it. She even mustered a smile for good measure. “You’re forgiven.”
“I’m glad.” His breath rushed across her face as he leaned forward.
She inhaled the unpleasant aroma of his digesting meal.
“You see, I’ve made it my personal mission to see to it that you have an enjoyable stay aboard my ship.” Shifting his weight, he drew a calloused finger down the side of her face, pausing at her chin.
She gasped and fumbled for the doorknob.
A commotion in the dining saloon caused the captain to turn his head. He leaned back to see around the corner toward the noise, lifting his remaining hand from her door.
Eliza twisted the knob and stepped backward into her cabin. “Good night!” She slammed the door in his face.
Chapter 8
Butterflies rioted in Eliza’s stomach as she approached the dining saloon for breakfast the next morning. After writing a second letter to Uncle Henry and giving it to the steward to post, she’d lain awake for hours last night. How had she been so foolish as to judge the captain by his wife’s virtues?
No, Uncle Henry had thought him a fine captain as well. He must be unaware of the blackguard’s true nature.
She rubbed her arms. What had she gotten herself into? As captain on this ship, there was no one to stop his unwelcome advances.
Mr. Clarke’s visage flashed in her mind, but he could not interfere with a captain on his own ship. She thrust her shoulders back. Besides, she didn’t need his help. She’d survived more than a year in the gold fields. Not to mention, fending off the advances of any number of men who’d attempted to maneuver her into the shadowed corners of San Francisco’s ballrooms. She could handle Captain Swenson now that she knew his true character. A shiver tickled her spine, but she lifted her chin.
If only she could contrive a reason to excuse herself from sitting beside him at meals.
She’d considered remaining in her cabin for the rest of the trip, but he might seek her out there. His supposed concern for her health would have been sufficient excuse, should anyone have discovered him outside her door. She shuddered.
Sometime during her restless night, she’d realized that Mrs. Swenson was likely ignorant of Eliza’s request for a chaperone. No wonder the kind woman had not said a word when they met in Uncle Henry’s shop. Eliza shook her head. What a naïve fool she’d been.
She entered the dining saloon. The captain’s chair was empty.
Thank You, Lord. She rocked up on her toes to see beyond the shoulders of the passengers still standing. Mr. Clarke sat in the same seat as the evening before, too busy conversing with the man beside him to notice her. She continued surveying the room. There was an unoccupied seat farther down the table. She took a step in that direction.
“Here you are, Miss Brooks.” The gentlemen she’d conversed with the evening before held the seat near the captain’s chair for her.
Smothering a groan, she forced her lips upward as she sank into the seat.
“I trust you slept well?”
Eliza nodded. “And you?”
“Tolerably, I suppose. I’ve yet to grow accustomed to the incessant movement of this beast, but it is
one of the concessions one must make for travel by sea. Far better a little swaying than the dangers of overland travel, I’d say.”
“Have you experienced such dangers?”
“Let me tell you...” With that, the gentleman was off and running with wild tales of encounters with natives, harrowing river crossings, and long dreary days of endless walking. He’d launched into a gruesome tale of passing a wagon train stricken with cholera when the steward appeared beside the captain’s chair and caught everyone’s attention.
“The captain has asked me to extend his sincerest apologies for not joining you all this morning.” Though he spoke to everyone, the steward’s attention lingered on Eliza. “He is quite sorry, but an urgent matter of business has come up that he must deal with while we are anchored here at Monterey.”
Had anyone else noticed the steward’s unusual focus on her? She cast a look about the room. More than a few passengers scrutinized her. Including Mr. Clarke.
She cringed.
Even in his absence, the captain managed to cast suspicion on her reputation. She smoothed the napkin in her lap. Perhaps if she pretended all was well, their suspicions would seem unfounded and disappear.
Daniel lifted a hand to block the midafternoon sunlight bouncing off the deck. A large crowd stood near the bow of the ship. People leaned over the rail, pointing to something in the waves below.
What had caught their attention? He wandered closer. The excited conversation grew more distinct.
“Look at them jump!”
“What are they?”
“Dolphins.”
“They’re beautiful.”
Daniel tipped his head to another passenger hurrying toward the commotion. The first time he’d seen the creatures had been one of the few joys on his trip to San Francisco. It would be fun to watch them play again. If he could find an opening at the rail.
Eliza. She stood dead center in the crowd, leaning against the rail, facing the water. He stiffened. Was she oblivious to the men surrounding her? Did she not feel herself pressed arm to arm on either side by men who’d surely seen plenty of dolphins?
The man to her right leaned close, pointing toward the water. His full beard brushed Eliza’s cheek as she turned to squint at the waves. Heat grew in Daniel’s chest. He pushed his way through the throng to reach her side, ignoring the protests his jostling created.
His hand shot out to pull her away from the rail, away from these men, but he stopped before taking her arm. She didn’t respond well the last time he touched her. Dropping his hand, he cleared his throat. “Miss Brooks?”
She didn’t respond.
He raised his voice. “Miss Brooks?”
She lifted her head and craned her neck toward his voice. Seeing him, she frowned and returned to watching the dolphins.
The muscles in his neck tightened. He tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss Brooks, may I have a word?”
She heaved a sigh and faced him. “Yes, Mr. Clarke?”
The man to her right stepped forward with crossed arms, a wide stance, and a glare aimed straight at Daniel. “This man bothering you, miss?”
Eliza placed a gloved hand on the man’s arm.
It took all Daniel’s control to not pry it off.
“No. No, he’s not. It’s fine, truly.” She smiled. “Thank you so much for your assistance. I never would have spotted that little one without your help.”
The man’s stance softened, but he didn’t budge.
She patted the man’s arm again. “I promise, I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
The man gave Daniel one more glare before stepping aside.
Daniel surveyed the group. The dolphins had been abandoned. Every man in the group was now watching him.
He offered Eliza his arm. “Would you take a walk with me?”
Her lips pinched.
She’s going to refuse. “There is something of importance I would like to discuss with you”—he paused to look pointedly at their audience—“in private.”
Her head swiveled left and right.
The men watched, obviously waiting on her response.
Her gaze moved to the rail and lingered there.
The man beside her ogled her bosom.
Daniel suppressed the urge to drag her away.
She turned back to Daniel. “Can’t it wait?”
“I’m afraid not.”
With another heavy sigh, Eliza accepted his arm and stepped away from the rail.
Daniel led her across the deck to a vacant section on the opposite side of the paddlewheel. He paused by the rail. How could he express his concern without offending her?
Eliza withdrew her hand. The cold sea breeze gusted up his cuff to chill the place she had kept warm.
“Well?” She crossed her arms. “What was so urgent it couldn’t wait till the dolphins had gone?”
Daniel opened his mouth, then hesitated. She would not respond well if he chastised her for allowing herself to be surrounded by men. He pressed his lips together. Had she always had this habit of walking blindly into situations in which she was vulnerable?
If Daniel had not deliberately tripped the poor steward last night during supper, there was no telling when the captain would have returned to the dining saloon or what damage might have been done to Eliza’s reputation. As it was, the captain’s extended absence had caused whispers and furtive glances toward her corridor. What had the captain been doing?
Daniel dismissed the insinuating question. It was absurd. But then, how well did he know Miss Brooks? Could this be why she was so opposed to her aunt’s attempts at finding her a match? But no, she’d been expecting Mrs. Swenson to escort her. Surely she wouldn’t…would she? He scowled as images of the captain’s arms around Eliza invaded his mind.
Eliza snorted and walked away from him.
Daniel hurried to stand in front of her. “Tell me, what transpired when the captain escorted you to your cabin.”
She drew up short. “I beg your pardon?”
“He was delayed in returning to the table.”
“How dare you!” She swung to slap him, but he blocked her arm.
Her face grew pink and her shoulders pulled back, fists at her sides.
He would not back down. If he was to appoint himself her guardian for this voyage, he must know what sort of woman she truly was. The idea that she was any other than the lady he took her to be churned his stomach. His heart ached, begging him to relent. Surely she was innocent. Still, he did not truly know this woman before him, however beautiful she may be.
“I have made no accusation.” He gentled his tone. “I am simply asking a question.”
“A question?” She clamped a hand on her hip. “Would you ask your mother that question?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Will you answer?”
She narrowed hers in return.
Searching the depths of her brown irises, he found no guilt. Beyond the simmering anger lurked hurt. His question had injured her. A woman of questionable character would not have been so wounded by his doubts. He smiled, then caught himself and arranged his features into a more sober expression. “I retract the question, Miss Brooks, with my sincerest apologies.”
She tilted her head.
He held his hands out. “Will you forgive me?”
She hesitated. Then gave a curt nod.
“Thank you.” He exhaled, then widened his stance. His primary goal had not yet been accomplished. “Miss Brooks, might I ask a favor?”
“You wish to ask a favor of me?” She stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. As well she should, given the circumstances. Still, he plowed ahead.
“As you are traveling unescorted”—she crossed her arms and he raised his hands to show he had no intention of rehashing that topic—“and I am the only person aboard with whom you have a prior acquaintance—aside from the captain, of course—I find myself preoccupied with your safety.”
“Do you?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm
.
“I do. With that in mind, would you do me the honor of giving a bit more forethought to your actions? That way, you might avoid finding yourself in situations like the one from which I have just extracted you.”
“From which you have just…” Eliza stepped away and peered around the sidewheel toward the bow of the ship, then turned back to face him. Her pink lips pressed into a line as she considered him.
She did not immediately refuse his request. He exhaled. She was going to be reasonable.
After several moments, her expression relaxed and she folded her hands in front of her. “Please do accept my apologies, Mr. Clarke, for being so thoughtless of your concerns. I am sorry my actions have caused you such distress. In the future, I will be sure to consult with you prior to taking any course of action.”
So saying, she spun on her heel, marched to the stairway, and disappeared below deck.
Eliza sauntered down the corridor. Dinner had been a pleasant affair with the continued vacancy of the captain’s chair. He must still be occupied with whatever had kept them at anchor for so long.
Her step faltered as she entered the dining saloon.
The captain stood from his seat at the head of the table, followed by the rest of the men.
Straightening, she continued to the place he indicated, at his right
Every muscle in her body tense, she didn’t dare close her eyes as he prayed, lest he reach for her again.
At the close of grace, the elderly gentlemen seated across from her engaged the captain in a discussion of the sea creatures spotted from the bow that afternoon.
Thank you, Lord.
She finished her roasted apples and ate half her hot collops before the gentleman to her right shifted toward her.
“The sun was quite pleasant today, was it not? A nice change from the chilly days of winter, I must say. And the wind was neither too weak nor too strong, I think.”
Eliza liked the man, despite his being rather dull—and the bit of apple stuck between his teeth. “Do you suppose it will continue as well for the whole of our trip?”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but I should think it will continue for the rest of the night.”
Waltz in the Wilderness Page 8