He peered out the window again. His weather investigation had taken longer than he’d thought. They were cresting the rise that led into the city already. He shook his head. He probably shouldn’t have sent his magical sight so far, but he’d wanted to ensure clear skies as far down the coast as he could, for Kate’s sake. He leaned forward and shook her knee slightly. “Kate.”
“Mm?” She blinked at him sleepily, then came abruptly awake. “Are we there?”
“Almost.” He pointed out the window at the buildings now within sight. “We’ll stop at an inn to refresh, and then head down to the quay.”
She smoothed a hand over her hair, tucking a few of the escaped strands behind her ear. “All right. We sail today?”
“Yes, no need to delay departure. We’re not carrying cargo this run, so the only thing to load is you,” he said, offering her a teasing smile. She smiled back, but he wasn’t sure it was genuine. He should know her better. They were married, after all. “Do you need anything? We can stop in at any of the shops in town.”
She shook her head. “No, everything’s in the trunks.”
“Ah.” They lapsed back into silence, and Jack fidgeted until the carriage rolled to a stop outside of an inn near the road down to the quay. The Delphine should be anchored and waiting. He’d dipped into its familiar aura when he’d blown by on the wind earlier. His feet itched to be aboard, seeking the familiarity of the deck and his own private cabin. He shared an elegant town house in London with Thomas and Duncan, and his room at Edgebourne House was ever unchanged, but somehow, his cabin on the Delphine felt more like home than any structure on land. How Bradley could have thought he’d want to stay in Cornwall was beyond his comprehension.
“There’s a room waiting for us if you’d like to freshen up.” Jack helped Kate out of the carriage, then tucked her hand into his elbow. “I’ll see you up there and then go send word to the ship, if that’s all right.”
Kate nodded.
He saw her installed in a chamber upstairs, sent the maid after her, then paid a stable boy to carry word to the ship to be ready to sail and sent the second carriage on to the quay to have their luggage loaded. By the time she came down, her face showing evidence of hearty scrubbing and dark hair, to his regret, once again pinned neatly up, he was ready to go.
He found himself enjoying her obvious curiosity as they made their way down to the docks. Her intelligent gaze flitted from building to building, examining everything about the short distance between inn and ship. “Don’t spend much time by the sea, I take it?”
She smiled at him. “Not at all. Grandpapa was much more interested in land, I’m afraid.”
He shook his head in mock disapproval. “Strange man.”
“Is that your ship?”
“The Delphine.” He let the familiar sense of pride wash over him as they approached his beloved. Every inch of her timbres was his, and his own magic had imbued her sails. The lost little boy who’d wanted nothing more than to be aboard his papa’s ship was long gone, but the man who owned this ship remembered him well.
“Why that name?”
“It was my grandmother’s.” At Kate’s questioning glance, he found himself elaborating. “She was the sister of the previous Duchess of Edgebourne.”
“Hence your family connection.”
He nodded. “The current Duchess helped me to get my start at sea. I would have named it after her but she wouldn’t let me.” She’d laughed at him, actually, and told him she’d rather not have such a large namesake until she was long gone and had truly earned it. He’d tried to explain that she’d earned it the day she’d taken him into her family, but they’d agreed to disagree. And now, years later, he knew that she’d been right, as usual. Honoring his lost parents, and his grandmother, was a much better fit. After all, he could tell Her Grace what she’d meant to him in person. The dead could never know. He made a mental note to write a note to the Duchess soon.
They’d reached the ramp. His first mate was standing at attention, a position he wasn’t particularly suited to. “Relax, Henders, before you sprain something.”
The other man shot him a disapproving glance from beneath thinning sandy hair. “Some of us are respectful, sir,” he said.
“Not to me,” Jack said. “Since when?”
“To the lady, sir,” Henders said patiently.
Jack looked at Kate, who was barely restraining her amusement. “Thank you,” she said. “Mister—” She stopped and cocked her head slightly toward Jack, awaiting an introduction.
“Kate, this is Henders, my first mate,” Jack said. “He has opinions, apparently.”
Henders executed a startlingly florid bow. “My lady,” he said, wobbling slightly as he rose. “It’s wonderful to meet you at last.”
“We thought the day would never come,” another voice called from the deck.
Jack shaded his eyes and glared up at his insouciant second mate, who grinned down at them from a perch near the helm. “Get back to work!”
“So you keep things running here?” he heard Kate ask Henders as the first mate offered his arm to escort her up the ramp. “I’d love to hear how a ship is organized.”
Henders beamed at her, and Jack rolled his eyes. The man was lost. He turned back to the shore and called a few instructions to the men carrying their luggage. Time to get settled. Home at last. He found himself looking forward to seeing what Kate thought of the captain’s cabin.
They reached the door, and Henders opened it to allow Kate through with another wobbly bow. “Don’t hurt yourself,” Jack said dryly. “Is everything ready?”
“Yes, sir,” Henders said. “We’re full up and set to sail.”
Jack nodded. “Cast off when you’re ready,” he said. “I’ll be up in a moment. You’re better at the river transit than I am anyway.”
His first mate grinned at him. “I wouldn’t ever say so out loud, Captain.”
Jack snorted. “Just get us to the sea, Henders.” He ducked into the cabin after Kate, anticipating her reaction to her newest surroundings.
His home aboard ship wasn’t exactly spartan. He watched Kate turn in a slow circle, examining the room with a growing smile. The walls were covered in delicate wood inlay—he’d bartered with a craftsman in India for it a few years ago, and they’d both left smiling. Lush curtains covered the porthole window, hung to seem as though they covered something much larger. It was an optical illusion the Duchess had taught him when she’d redecorated Edgebourne Hall, though she might have been surprised to learn that he’d paid attention. As he’d expected, Kate gravitated immediately to the bed. The enormous, delicately carved bed, laid with plush bedding and a silk coverlet.
“This is lovely,” she said admiringly. “How on earth did you get it into the room?”
He chuckled. “Had it assembled in here, actually.”
She leaned in and reached out a hand to smooth over the coverlet. “The colors are so intense, I . . .”
Bent over the bed, mid-reach, she paused, and Jack saw the color drain from her face. She swallowed heavily, and he frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She was clearly not fine. “Sit down.”
“I’ll finish unpacking,” she said and turned from her inspection of the bed with what he was sure was supposed to be a decisive step toward the trunk waiting at its foot. Instead, she swayed, and he leaped for her.
“Sit.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her into the chair next to the bed. Like all the furniture aboard, it was bolted to the floor, so he couldn’t scoot it out to give himself room to kneel in front of her, something that hadn’t ever bothered him until now. Of course, he’d never had a swooning bride in this cabin before. Or a swooning anybody, for that matter.
“I’m
fine, I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” she said, still pale. “Did we start to move?”
“You can tell?” Even he was just now feeling the gentle swell of the ship’s movement as it eased out of its docking position. She must have gotten sick as soon as the anchor was lifted, and he hadn’t even felt a gentle thud as it was locked into position aboard. He didn’t think he knew anybody who got that seasick. “Are you going to be all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Don’t you need to, er, steer?” She waved a hand vaguely, demonstrating that she had no idea what a ship’s wheel looked like. Or, in fact, how a ship moved at all.
He suppressed a smile. “Henders is taking us out to sea, but yes, I do need to get up on deck. But if you’re sick . . .”
“Go, go.” She glanced around the room, her dark eyes fastening on the bed. “I’ll just lie down.”
He helped her into bed, frowning as she curled herself around the pillow. “I’ll be back.” Doing his best to ignore the sour feeling of worry creeping into his stomach, he left her there and headed up to take charge of his ship.
Chapter 11
Kate woke up to vicious, thrashing darkness and the sour smell of vomit. Her stomach roiled again and she groaned. A hand smoothed over her brow and tucked her hair away from her face, revealing the gray light of the cabin.
“Here’s the bucket.” Jack said, his voice low and deep.
She reached blindly for the bucket, grabbed the side, and retched violently. Some kind of cloth was patted gently across her mouth, and she fell back against the pillows, clutching her aching limbs around her stomach.
“S-Storm?” she managed to gasp out.
“Calm seas,” he said.
She moaned and let the darkness take her again.
The next time she woke, it was to sunlight streaming in through unfamiliar windows and the blessed sensation of solid earth under her. She licked her lips, finding them too dry to even begin to ease the scraping of her dehydrated tongue. Turning her head, she saw a decanter on the table next to the bed with a glass of water next to it, beading with gentle droplets around its base. She shifted, trying to bring her arm up out of the cocoon of the covers, but found herself unexpectedly weak.
“Here.” Jack’s arm was around her suddenly, and she started as he lifted her into a sitting position and reached across her to get the glass. He held it to her lips and she frowned.
“I can—”
“Just drink it, Kate.”
She drank.
“Where are we?”
“An inn in Blackpool.”
Her mind went briefly blank. “Blackpool?”
He nodded and his lips thinned. “We’ve cut our sea voyage short, I’m afraid.”
“What happened?”
He sighed. “You were right about your seasickness, I’m afraid. I suppose I should get used to you being right.”
She attempted a smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. The Delphine can sail without us. We’re not exactly profitable cargo.”
“Speak for yourself,” she scraped out past her sore throat, making him grin. She relaxed, seeing the easing of the worry lines around his eyes.
“Fair enough. We’ll simply go the rest of the way on land. I hear plenty of people do it, it can’t be hard.” He smiled down at her, and she appreciated the teasing note she heard in his voice. “Rest. I’ll make the arrangements.”
She stiffened reflexively. “Are you sure—”
“Kate. I can do this. I promise.”
She regarded him dubiously over the edge of the glass as she reached up to take the weight of it into her own hands. “But—”
“I’ve learned my lesson. No more harum-scarum attempts at cobbling together a caravan from the dregs of other people’s stables, I swear. Lord and Lady Rothwell travel in well-organized style these days, I hear.”
She sighed. “Can I help at all?”
“No.” He smiled. “You can rest, and recover. I’ll send in the maid as soon as you feel up to bathing, if you’d like.”
Ignoring the wistful thought that it might be nice to bathe with him, she nodded. Perhaps, having concluded their marital intimacy at Kilgoran, they were done. He was probably aching to be back aboard ship. Drat this weak stomach of hers. She would have enjoyed seeing him in his element. She set the glass down and relaxed against the pillows. “Maybe one more short nap,” she murmured.
~ ~ ~
Jack sped downstairs with as much grace as he could muster, mindful that he was in a place he rarely frequented, so he didn’t have Captain Boone’s reputation to fall back on to explain Lord Rothwell’s not-so-lordly attitude. He found Henders waiting for him in the tavern room below, cap in hand and concern written all over his sun-wrinkled face—what could be seen of it beneath his looming beard, anyway.
“Is she all right?” His first mate had taken an instant liking to Kate in the few hours he’d known her, particularly after he’d seen a copy of her packing list. He’d told Jack she would have made an excellent quartermaster and suggested that she provision the ship at the next port. The crew had likewise been firmly on her side, whether it was because they were equally impressed by her brain, her beauty, or simply liked to see their captain wed, he had no idea. When he’d come pounding up the ladder to the deck and demanded breathlessly that they make for the nearest port, nobody had even asked a question. They’d helped him ferry her to shore, and as he’d carried her toward the inn, he’d heard the crew organizing an efficient chain to gather her luggage.
“I think so,” he said.
Henders shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone get that sick, Cap. Nor that fast. Seems strange.”
Jack nodded. “I know. I’m going to see if I can find anything out.”
“Righto. Ye’ll give my regards to Lady Rothwell? And the crew’s.”
“Of course.”
“Then we’re off, I suppose.”
“Aye. You’ve done it before.” The Delphine had sailed without its captain several times. Nobody liked it, but he only hired crew who could be trusted and trained to do so. His duties for Whitehall had made him too careful to do otherwise. And Henders was a deeply capable man. Not for the first time, Jack reflected that his first mate really should be captain of his own ship, and blessed the loyalty that kept the man with him. “Thank you, Henders.”
The other man nodded laconically and tossed off a salute that was a little sharper than he might have intended—a relic of a military past he preferred not to talk about and a few missions of his own for the same superiors Jack reported to. “Safe waters, Cap.”
“To you as well.”
Jack watched Henders exit the tavern with the rolling stride of a sailor who knew he’d be back on the water soon and sighed. Time to arrange for a ride to Cornwall.
~ ~ ~
Two hours later, Jack surveyed his accomplishments with warring senses of pride and discomfort. The local livery had been happy to help Lord Rothwell. He’d been uncomfortably aware that they probably would have been less obsequious for Captain Boone, and markedly less helpful, as well. It was a battle he couldn’t afford to fight with Kate still weak, and he resented Lord Bradley and the entire titled conspiracy anew as he went into the inn to accomplish the last thing he needed to do before they could leave.
K startlingly ill aboard. Have transferred to land at Blackpool. Hate to ask, but could she be . . .? He sealed the message inside of a globe of summoned energy, shook off the drops of water he’d used to create it, and sent the thing winging across the miles to Kilgoran. If anyone would know whether Kate’s condition was an interesting one, it was Fiona.
With a lordly smile for the curious inn
keeper, he rose from his seat and crossed to the bar to pay his tab.
“Shall I send someone for your wife, my lord?” the man asked.
“No, thank you, I’ll fetch her myself,” he said with a wink.
The Kate who opened the door to his knock was a far cry from the Kate he’d left wilting in bed earlier. He’d expected to need to help her down the stairs. Instead, she fairly blazed with energy. “Are we ready?”
He blinked. “Ah. Yes?”
She peered at him, absently tucking a dark curl behind her ear. “Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.”
“No, I’m sure.” He held out his arm. “How do you feel?”
She smiled up at him, taking his arm. “That nap was just the thing, I think. I’m so much better.” She sobered. “And Jack, I’m so sorry. I had no idea—”
“It’s all right,” he interrupted.
She pursed her lips. “It’s not, though. I didn’t mean to be a burden.”
He patted her hand and turned her toward the stairs. “Never a burden, Kate. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do at Rothwell.” And he was. Almost as much as he was looking forward to getting back aboard the Delphine.
~ ~ ~
As the carriage rolled toward the edge of town and he watched Kate settle into her seat with a little sigh, Jack felt the tingle of approaching magic against his other senses. The message-ball from Fiona hit him squarely on the chest—definitely not an accident, he thought, rubbing the spot ruefully as he picked it up.
Kate raised her head at his motion, then came alert when she saw the glow between his fingers. “What is it? A message from Kilgoran? Is Alicia all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” he said. “I just sent them a message letting them know where we were.”
She nodded and watched him as he spun magic out of the sphere to reveal the message. It was succinct, and classically Fiona. Nobody in her family had vast stores of patience. You’ve been married for less than a week. That’s not how it works, unless there’s something you haven’t told us. Why don’t you ASK her?
Captain's Lady Page 7