“Dear God!” I gasped. “What happened?”
“He fell from the rigging,” the captain said. “His left arm is badly torn. I haven’t a man I can spare to see to him.”
“Bring him in.”
Barret stripped the man of his wet, bloody clothing and rolled him, groaning in agony, into my bed.
“Have you any laudanum?” I asked, fetching a sewing kit Rose had insisted I bring with me and recalling the drug he’d given Colin.
“Here.” He pulled a small flask from inside his dripping coat.
“Dose him as heavily as you dare.” I pulled white thread through a needle. “Then get out of those oilskins and help me.”
“Help you do what?” He forced the liquid between the sailor’s lips.
Indicating the injured man’s frightened stare, I shook my head. No need to further distress him. He’d soon be beyond caring.
“Captain,” he rasped. “If I die, send my pay to my missus. She’s got four young ones and another is on the way. She’ll be needin’ a fancy dress to catch herself a new man.”
“You’re not going to die, Jim.” Captain Madison’s words brooked no denial. “Abe’s own daughter-in-law is going to see to that, aren’t you, Mrs. Douglas?”
“Of course I am,” I said with a good deal more confidence than I was feeling. “You rest and leave everything to me.”
“You’re as pretty as one of God’s own angels, ma’am.” The injured man looked up at me, his eyelids already drooping from the effects of the drug. “If you say you’ll heal me, then I believe you.” Then he was unconscious.
“What are you going to do?” The captain pulled off his oilskins.
“Sew his arm back together before he bleeds to death.” I tried to sound matter of fact, but my fingers were shaking as I knotted the end of the thread. “I saw Cook do it once when I worked in the scullery in England. A kitchen boy fell on some ragged glass. She saved his life by using her sewing kit to close the wound. Now do as I say. Knot this towel tightly about his upper arm. It will slow the bleeding and keep the wound clear enough for me to see what I’m about. Then fetch clean sheets, towels, and water. And a bottle of rum. I’ll need alcohol to cleanse the wound.”
He didn’t question me further. Instead he moved swiftly to obey. When he was once again at my side, he held the sailor’s ragged flesh in place as I stitched it together. Several times I feared I might faint but told myself a man’s life depended on me. I must not weaken.
Finally it was finished. Barret helped me wash and bandage the arm. The bleeding had stopped and the man’s breathing, although labored, was regular. I stood and drew a deep breath.
“Now all we can do is hope and pray,” I said.
“And get you out of here,” Barret said gently, looking about at the bloody rags, sheets, and bowls of water. “I’ll have one of my men clean this up once the storm abates.”
He took my arm and led me out of the room and along the companionway to his cabin. I was too emotionally spent and physically exhausted to protest.
Once inside the warm, clean room, I felt the nerves I had held in check for the past hour shatter. With a trembling sigh, I sank down on the edge of his bed and covered my face with my hands.
“Drink this.” I looked up to see him holding out a glass half full of liquid. I obeyed, then choked as it scalded its way to my stomach.
“Brandy,” he said, patting me on the back. “Wonderful for frazzled nerves. Now let me get you out of that dress.”
“No!” I caught his hands as they went to its buttons.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice so gentle my eyes flew to his face in surprise. “How could I? You’re as strong and brave as you are clever and beautiful. A man would have to be pure scum to take advantage of such a woman…a woman a man such as Morgan Reynolds would have been proud to call his daughter.”
His words placated me with their sincerity. I stood still and allowed him to open the buttons, then pull the bloody, wet dress over my head. When he’d finished, he went to his sea chest, took out one of his own white linen shirts, and dropped it over my head. It laced at the throat and hung to my knees. Then he led me, clad in my strange nightshirt, to his bed and tucked me between soft, warm quilts. .
“It’s all right,” he murmured, taking my icy fingers and raising them to his lips. “Rest. You’ve been as courageous and resourceful as anyone should ever have to be.”
He bent forward, placed a kiss on my forehead, adjusted the covers about me, then left me alone with the memory of his actions both warming and confusing me.
Chapter Ten
The Academy turned out to be a somber structure of gray stone, owned and staffed (save for a cook and a servant girl) by one Mrs. Elvira Lambert. The mistress was a full-bosomed widow of middle age, prim, strict, and unrelenting in her bustling effort to transform ignorant young women into acceptable wives for affluent men who’d fallen victim to pretty faces and shapely bodies combined with minds and manners unsuitable for the social circles of their wealthy spouses.
Aside from myself, the academy had only two students at that time. Tuition and board at Mrs. Elvira Lambert’s Academy for Young Ladies were expensive, Becky and Sarah, my fellow pupils, informed me. Only the very wealthy could afford the cost.
In the weeks that followed, Becky, Sarah, and I were aroused at 5:30 a.m. and, shortly thereafter, put to our studies. We learned social graces, table settings, grooming, appropriate clothing, and manners for all occasions. Mrs. Lambert also attempted to give us a basic appreciation of the arts and to instruct us to an elementary knowledge of French.
My knowledge of music amazed our teacher. The first time she sat down at the piano in the drawing room, she played an uninspired version of a concerto I recognized immediately.
“Now,” she said when she had finished. “I’m sure none of you recognized that piece, but perhaps after several months…”
“Bach,” I said.
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Douglas?” She turned to me in surprise.
“The selection was composed by Bach,” I said.
“That is correct,” Mrs. Lambert sniffed disdainfully. “But how could you possibly know?”
“My husband is a pianist,” I said proudly.
“Then you must study music with a will, madam.” Mrs. Lambert threw back her shoulders and looked down her nose at me. “Nothing pleases a gentleman more than to have his lady well versed in his interests.”
“Yes,” I agreed, but soon found I was studying French with equal enthusiasm.
****
On Christmas Eve, Mrs. Lambert came into the drawing room, where we three young ladies were reading, to announce I had a visitor.
“You may receive him in the parlor,” she said, stepping aside for me to precede her from the room.
“Did he give his name, ma’am?” I laid my book aside and stood.
“He did,” she replied. “Now come along.”
Knowing further questions would antagonize her, I went out of the room and down the hall, aware of her critical appraisal of my every step. I wondered if I were progressing to her satisfaction, and then I was at the open parlor door. Inside, his back to me as he warmed his hands at the hearth, was a tall, blond, broad-shouldered young man I recognized joyfully.
“Colin!” I rushed into the room.
He turned to me, and I flung myself into his arms. “Oh, Colin, it’s so good to see you!” I choked as I clung to his fur-collared greatcoat. Tears escaped my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. “I’ve been so lonely without you!”
“Starr, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “If I could have prevented it, I never would have allowed my father to send you away.”
“I know.” I blinked back my tears and forced a smile as I looked up at him. “But it’s been for the best. I’m learning to be a wife you can be proud of.” I spun away from him that he might inspect my changed appearance. “Haven’t I improved? See how I’ve learned
to put my hair up. No more wild curls or bits of ribbon.”
I paused. He was smiling.
“You look wonderful,” he said. “But then, I’ve always thought you did.”
I blushed under his praise.
“I’ve come to spend the Yuletide with you,” he said. “I have a room at the King’s Inn.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! But couldn’t you stay here? I have my own room, and…”
He touched my cheek with his fingertips. “It’s best this way, Starr.”
Embarrassed by his admission of his lack of desire for me, I turned away and went to the piano by the window. “I hope you’ve been practicing,” I said.
“I haven’t touched a piano in weeks,” he said. “I’ve been working in the bush. After you left Pine, Father sent me back to the woods. He said I was getting soft, that it wasn’t surprising I hadn’t been able to make you pregnant, since I was in such poor physical condition. He said if I wanted to be able to succeed with you when we went to the Caribbean in the spring, I’d need to do manual labor. He sent me out to his most notorious timber boss, Moonlight Jake. The brute came by his nickname honestly. If there’s moonlight enough to see by, he works his men at night as well as by day. My hands are so sore, I doubt I shall ever play again.” He held out them out, scarred and bruised.
“Colin,” I breathed, tears of compassion stinging my eyes. I caught his hands in mine and kissed them. He laid his cheek against my hair and sighed.
“Play for me now,” I said softly. “I know you can.”
“If it would please you,” he said, shrugging out of his greatcoat. “But don’t expect a polished performance.”
He sat down at the keyboard. For a few moments, he stared down at it, flexing his fingers and rubbing his wrists. Then he placed his hands over the keys and squared his shoulders.
At first he ran his fingers over simple scales and exercises. As dexterity and confidence returned, he struck out on one of his own compositions. Soon the house was resounding with his exquisite, masterful touch.
He played and I was placated, caressed, and finally lifted by the magic. When he paused and the last note had drifted into oblivion in the quiet house, a small but heartfelt ripple of applause made us both turn toward the doorway. Mrs. Lambert and my two fellow students stood on the threshold, delight mirrored on all three faces.
“That was magnificent, Mr. Douglas.” Mrs. Lambert advanced into the room. “Mozart, was it not?”
“No, ma’am.” Colin got to his feet and smiled at her in his appealing, unabashed manner. “It’s one of my own compositions.”
“Amazing,” she breathed, her eyes bright. “Mr. Douglas, you are a gifted gentleman. You appear to have awakened an appreciation of fine music in my young ladies, something I’ve failed to do in the past months. I wonder”—she paused pensively—“will you be stopping long in Halifax?”
“A couple of weeks at least, ma’am,” he said. “I plan to be with my wife at Christmas.”
“Of course,” she nodded. “Would it be too great an imposition if I asked you to play for us occasionally?”
“I’d be honoured, ma’am.” Colin bowed.
“Excellent!” She flourished her hands at the two young women in the doorway. “Run along now, girls. We must allow Mr. Douglas time with his wife. Good day, Mr. Douglas. We’ll be eagerly awaiting your next concert in our little academy.”
“Well.” He shrugged boyishly after they’d gone. “Perhaps I should also leave. Will you have supper with me at the King’s Inn tonight? I can come for you at seven, if that would be convenient.”
“I’d like that,” I said. “It’s rather like living in a nunnery here, in spite of the fine clothes and bric-a-brac. It would be most pleasant to go out.”
“Most pleasant?” Colin grinned at my stilted speech.
“Oh, all right,” I laughed. “It would be loverly.”
He took my hand then, sobering.
“Don’t change too much, Starr,” he said, looking into my eyes. “I like you just the way you are.” He bent from the waist and kissed my fingers. Then he gathered up his greatcoat and left.
I went to the parlor window and watched him hail a passing cab. As he drove away, his words echoed in my mind: “I like you just the way you are.” Perhaps there was hope for our marriage after all.
Sarah burst into the parlor. “Starr, he’s an Adonis!”
I turned from the window, surprised at her exuberance.
“Who?” I asked innocently as Becky followed her into the room.
“Why, that beautiful man you married!” Sarah cried. “My James is rich and I love him, but Colin Douglas is a prize! I tell you, I could take that man in rags and be happy forever.”
“He is very handsome, Starr,” Becky said shyly. “He has a fine face and beautiful blond hair.”
“Don’t act the lady, Becky,” Sarah prodded her with an elbow. “Don’t pretend you didn’t notice that tall, lean body with its broad shoulders and flat belly. He looks as firm as a rock. Is he, Starr?” she teased, nudging me, her eyes dancing with mischief.
“Sarah, please!” Becky was chagrined at our friend’s outspokenness. “Don’t mind her, Starr,” she continued gently. “She’s teasing.”
“Teasing, like hell!” Sarah laughed boisterously. “My James is a rough diamond and your Jonathan is a wealthy milksop, but we each love them with all our hearts for the good men we know them to be. Starr, here, has simply gotten icing on her wedding cake. Her man is the best-looking thing I’ve seen in years!”
I would have been lying if I’d replied I hadn’t been aware of Colin’s blatant good looks, but this was the first time I’d been exposed to other women’s frank opinion of him.
The realization came to me in a rush. I must have been mad to allow Colin’s father to send me away from him. Pine had a number of comely young ladies who probably viewed my husband as did my companions. And what about his former love? Who and where was she?
Disconcerted, I walked across the room and let the piano cover fall over the keys with a bang. I would not be separated from my handsome husband again.
As soon as Sarah and Becky left me alone, I hastened to find Mrs. Lambert and tell her of my husband’s invitation. Her permission was necessary. She allowed no one to leave the house without her consent.
“I have no objection,” she said when I made my request. “Mr. Douglas appears to be a fine, cultivated young gentleman. I might even make an exception to one of my cardinal rules,” she continued, lowering her voice and looking furtively about to make certain Becky and Sarah were not within earshot. “And allow you to spend the…er…entire evening at the King’s Inn with him.”
“You mean the night?” I could barely believe my good fortune. “Oh, yes, please. It would mean so much to me, to us.”
“I normally do not permit such…conjugal visits. The families of the young men whose brides are entrusted to me for improvement prefer not to risk…complications before they’re satisfied with the results of my work.”
“You mean pregnancies,” I said.
“Yes, if you must be so indelicate.” She sniffed. “Your young man, however, appears too much a gentleman of refinement to allow any such unfortunate occurrence. Thus, I’m prepared to risk giving him a night alone with his wife. Return after dinner and pretend to retire. I’ll let you out again at eleven. There will be a carriage waiting. I’ll readmit you at six tomorrow morning. Don’t be tardy.”
I flung myself at the woman and hugged her. She gasped in surprise.
“Oh, thank you, mum,” I cried, releasing her. “God bless you, mum.”
“Really, Mrs. Douglas, you must try to curb your exuberance,” she said, straightening her collar. “And correct that terrible grammar at once, or I shall change my mind. Now go bathe, and dress your hair. You have scant time to make yourself presentable.”
“Why are you allowing me this liberty?” I’d started from the room but turned back, seized by suspici
on. Was this some trick designed to have me dismissed in disgrace from her academy? The woman had no soft place in her heart for me.
“That boy you married is a musical genius,” she said. “He should be denied nothing that might inspire him. I’m sure, being a young man, he is inspired by his wife. I therefore consider it my duty to the world of music to send you to him tonight.”
Thinking Colin’s music must indeed have magic powers, I dashed toward the stairs. I was in such high spirits, I could not feel resentful as I heard the woman mutter something about wondering how a talented man like my husband had gotten himself married to such a feckless creature.
I dressed in my finest, a blue velvet creation trimmed with deep flounces of snow white lace, piled my hair into a soft halo of curls about my face, and threw about my shoulders a cape that matched my gown and was lined with silver fox fur. As I drew the hood over my coiffure, I looked into my mirror and smiled. If Colin Douglas did not find me desirable tonight, he must be an unusual young man indeed.
****
As we were finishing our dinner at the King’s Inn later that evening, I told Colin of Mrs. Lambert’s offer. The carefree happiness that had underscored our evening vanished from his face.
“That was kind of Mrs. Lambert,” he said, unfolding and refolding his napkin. “But I think it best you return to the academy for the night. I’ll come for you tomorrow. We’ll go for a sleigh ride.”
“Colin, you don’t understand,” I said, leaning eagerly across the table toward him. “We must try to complete our marriage. I don’t want to lose you, and I fear I will if…”
“You’ll never lose me, sweetheart,” he said his confidence returning as he put his napkin aside and took my hand to kiss my fingers. When he raised his head, he smiled. “I need you, I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you as my companion.”
“Companion, Colin? I’m your legal wife.”
“You think you can’t hold me without intimacy in bed?” Colin’s tone was incredulous. “Sweetheart, you’ve kept me alive since we met, since Darcy’s death. You couldn’t send me away if you wished.”
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