Twenty-one
As the boat pulled away up the river, Colette’s relief at having escaped Bordeaux turned to worry over the fate of her men. They had been on the docks and then they were gone. Had they been pushed into the river? Had they been killed and thrown aside?
She hurried down the corridor to the small cabin and looked out the window to view the dock slowly growing smaller as they floated away. Finally she saw them, not on the shore but in a large rowboat, rowing for all their might southward, toward the next port.
She waved at them from the window and they waved at her in return. She sighed and put a hand to her chest. They had done it. They were on the ship and her men had escaped the English.
She sank onto a small bed as the ship rocked gently from side to side. It had been an exhausting day. Despite her inner turmoil, the cabin was a cozy room with smooth, varnished woodwork. Much of the furniture was built into the walls, most likely to prevent it from tipping over in high seas. The cabin boasted a wardrobe, a small table, one wooden chair, and a firm bunk-style bed covered with a red wool blanket. Everything was stowed neatly away, giving the small space a tidy feel. The room was sparse yet homey.
The ship swayed gently as it caught the wind, and she put a hand on the windowsill to keep her balance. Outside the window, the shores of Bordeaux grew distant. She gazed with longing at the last vision of her homeland: the green fields, the red roofs of the town, and the church spire of Bordeaux Cathedral.
She had expected to be journeying with her guards and her maids, but she was now alone with only a Highland guide, an urchin for a maid, and an unwanted baby. If this was the new way the Lord was making for her in the wilderness, it was indeed a strange new road.
“Greetings, m’lady,” said Gavin, leaning on the door frame of the small cabin.
Colette stood up fast, not wishing him to see her sitting on a bed, of all inappropriate things. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him after their performance on deck. The ship shifted several degrees to the port side, causing her to stumble slightly before regaining her balance.
“Careful there,” said Gavin as he strolled into the cabin and held her elbow for a brief moment to steady her before letting go. “Might take a wee bit to get used to the shifting o’ the boat.”
The boat rocked and her knees, weak from all the momentous events of the past few days, gave way. At least, that was the rationale she told herself later. Whether by accident or design, she stumbled forward and once again Gavin was there to put his arm around her waist to steady her.
“Here, sit down, m’lady. I dinna wish ye to fall while ye’re getting yer sea legs.”
She allowed herself to be guided a few steps and sat down with Gavin beside her. She took another deep breath, filled with an emotion she could not name. Gavin gently gave her hand a squeeze in comfort, and the sensation that his fingers produced on her bare skin was something foreign to her.
“Forgive me.” Colette breathed deep of the salty sea air mixed with the scent of varnished wood and fresh tar.
“’Tis been a difficult day for ye, I fear.” Gavin gave her a bolstering smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze.
It was only then that she realized they were both sitting on one of the few pieces of furniture in the room. The bed. At this recognition, a jolt of something hot shot straight to her core. She was too tired to fight against it, and her head tipped naturally to his shoulder. “I had thought to have planned for everything along my journey, but never had I envisioned anything such as this.”
Gavin rested his chin on the top of her head. It was a gesture of comfort and friendship, and Colette snuggled closer to Gavin, who embraced her with both arms. She allowed herself to be infused with his warmth and his strength. As long as she could remain in his arms, she felt secure.
Another moment’s reflection brought the recognition that being in his arms was a mistake. A nagging part of her knew these were the pleasures that would forever be denied her. She was not free to choose her own partner in life. She should not accustom herself to finding comfort in the arms of a man. And yet he was warm and comforting, and no matter what was to come, she needed this moment of peace in the arms of Sir Gavin Patrick.
“Ah, the newlyweds.” Captain Dupont strolled into the cabin with a wide grin, oblivious to the desperate fight on the dock to escape and the overall wrongness of finding Colette in Gavin’s arms.
The captain was a large man, clearly built for a life of labor on the seas, with broad shoulders and large forearms. He removed his cap, revealing a bald head. His hair seemed to have migrated from the top of his head to his bushy, sandy-colored mustache. “You must take this, my cabin, for the duration of our journey. You will spend your wedding night in comfort, yes?” He waggled bushy eyebrows up and down.
“We woud’na presume to take yer own cabin, Captain Dupont,” said Gavin, helping Colette to stand.
Fortunately, the captain insisted, saying he would take the cabin on the port side and Pippa the maid could have the cabin on the starboard with the baby. The captain smiled broadly under his bushy mustache, gave them both an obvious wink, and left them alone, closing the door behind him.
“I cannot stay with you,” Colette said in a hushed tone. She understood why they needed to use subterfuge to get on the ship, but she had assumed that she would be staying in a cabin with Pippa, not the Highland knight before her. “If you please, you must stay in the other cabin, and I will stay here with my maid.”
Gavin looked at the ceiling and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, it would be the right thing to do.” He shifted from one foot to the other and glanced around the small cabin as if he found the polished, honey-colored woodwork fascinating. “Trouble is, might raise some suspicions, ye ken. Especially since the captain thinks we were just married.”
Colette suppressed a rising sense of panic. She could not stay here alone with a man. She could not. “I am to be married to Kenneth Mackenzie, the Baron of Kintail. If he discovers I spent my journey sailing unsupervised alone with a man…” It was simply unthinkable. Besides, she feared being alone with Gavin would inflame desires that could not be quenched.
“Aye, I see it would cause a stir. New husband woud’na care for that.”
“Not care for it? He would refuse to wed me. He would send me back in shame, and everything that we have worked for, everything I sacrificed for, would be lost.”
Gavin rubbed the back of his neck again. He had barely looked at her since this distressing topic had arisen. “Trouble is, if our good captain ever suspects us, he could verra easily put us to shore here in France or in England herself, and there would be verra little we could do about it.”
“There must be another way.” Colette kept her voice low and calm, hiding the growing sense of panic.
Gavin gave her his full attention, his rich brown eyes meeting hers and holding her gaze without wavering. “I swear to ye, Lady Marie Colette, that I winna force myself upon ye or make any unwanted advances.”
She did not doubt it. She knew Sir Gavin was an honorable knight and would not press his advantage. His chivalry was not what troubled her. She did not doubt his ability to remain appropriately chaste, but she feared her own resolve was at risk. He was a handsome man, this Sir Gavin. She felt right in his arms, as if she belonged there, as if she’d been waiting her whole life to find this place, this man, this moment when she was fully alive and where she truly belonged.
Marie Colette shook her head vigorously, more to shake away her treacherous thoughts than to deny what Gavin said. “I trust you are an honorable knight, Sir Gavin. But some other arrangement must be made.”
Gavin inspected the toes of his boots. He shrugged and nodded. “I can make up some excuse, I warrant.”
“Very good, Sir Knight.” She drank in one last look at his handsome body, his broad shoulders, and his muscu
lar form that even his loose-fitting tunic garb could not hide. She preferred him in his native, Highland attire, naked legs and all.
She forced herself to turn away, to the window, seeing nothing except the memory of Gavin, riding his destrier across the fields, his plaid hiked up to reveal a muscular thigh. He must not stay in her cabin, for she feared she could not make the same pledge to him that he had just made to her.
Twenty-two
They traveled peacefully down the river, toward the setting sun and the great ocean. After collecting herself in the cabin, Colette emerged on deck, the gentle wind tugging at her headdress. She breathed deeply of the salty sea air. It was fresh and new and despite everything, she experienced a quiver of excitement.
It was the first time she had been on her own. Her ladies had been her constant companions since she had emerged from the nursery. She had lived a very public existence, always someone watching her, reporting her every movement. If she did anything unladylike, the tale would spread throughout the castle. She had been judged from the moment of her birth on her beauty and her ability to remain serene and demure. But now on this plain merchant vessel, she could say or do whatever she liked. Not that she had any great desire for misbehaving—except where a certain Highland knight was in question.
Colette smiled into the wind. She could be anybody. In fact, it was important for her not to act like Lady Marie Colette, so she must behave in a manner different than her usual self. She was the hero of her own great adventure, just like the stories she loved to read.
The ship swayed, and the sail furled in the wind, catching a gust and pushing their craft forward. The captain was at the helm and the men pulled at thick ropes, singing a jaunty tune.
Colette walked carefully across the wood deck, conscious of how the ship swayed gently in the water and wishing not to embarrass herself by falling on her backside in front of all the crew. Gavin and Pippa, who still cradled the bundle of baby in her arms, were at the bow of the ship, facing the setting sun.
Gavin leaned closer to Pippa in a familiar manner that made Colette’s jaw tight. Of course, he had every right to do so. If he wished, instead of taking the baby to his mother, he could marry Pippa and adopt the babe as his own. Colette ground her teeth at the thought.
Pippa turned to Gavin, her face in profile illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. Despite her abrasive manner, Pippa was an attractive girl. Gavin reached up and touched a hand to her shoulder, rubbing it slightly in an affectionate manner. The gesture inflamed more than a twinge of jealousy and Colette had the sudden desire to tell Gavin to return to her cabin and remain there for the rest of the voyage. Not wanting to examine such uncharitable impulses, she strolled toward the bow and joined the pair by stepping boldly in between them.
Despite her brush with envy, Colette was momentarily transfixed by the beauty of the sight before her. The sun dipped low on the horizon, creating a golden trail across the water from the bright ball of light to the bow of their ship. The sky was illuminated in orange and red as the edge of the sun touched the watery horizon before them. Orange and pink clouds brightened the horizon as if painted with a radiant brush. Colette caught her breath at its beauty. She had seen the sunsets over the hills by her castle but never over the ocean with the water reflecting the glory of the sun. It was indeed a splendid sight and she hoped one that foretold of good fortune and a safe passage along the seas.
Beside her, Pippa swallowed hard. “Good eve to you, m’lady.” Her voice was not as sharp or confident as Colette was accustomed to hear from Pippa. A closer examination of the maid revealed that Pippa had gone a bit pale. The ship lurched a bit as it reached the mouth of the river and entered into the great ocean. Pippa responded by turning a pale shade of green.
“I fear our dear Pippa is experiencing a wee bit o’ seasickness,” said Gavin with a strong command of the obvious.
Pippa clutched the railing with one hand and pressed the swaddled baby to her shoulder.
“Here, let me take the babe,” said Colette, not wishing that the infant be lost at sea by her unsteady maid.
Pippa readily handed over the child in favor of grasping the railing with both hands, as if she could hold the ship steady with sheer effort and determination. She swallowed again and took a deep breath.
Colette juggled the babe awkwardly, trying to imitate the easy manner with which Pippa held the tot. Colette had the impulse to hand the creature over to Gavin, but she did not wish to appear less capable than her seasick maid. Despite her compassion for the ill girl, she was secretly pleased to find Gavin’s interest to be one of comforting the infirm and not flirtation.
The baby’s eyes opened, and Colette held her breath lest the child begin a plaintive wail. Instead, the babe snuggled up to her and grabbed ahold of the hem of the bodice of her silk gown with one sticky hand.
Immediately, Colette attempted to move the offending chubby hand from her brocade silk, but only succeeded in the baby transferring her firm grasp from the fabric to Colette’s index finger. The baby sighed contentedly, closed her eyes, and drew up Colette’s finger into her slobbery mouth, happily gumming her fingertip.
Colette was about to pull back her molested finger, but Gavin spoke first. “Och, look how she’s taken to ye.” He smiled at her, the golden light of the setting sun glinting in his eyes.
“Yes, so it seems,” said Colette, continuing to allow her finger to be maligned.
Colette looked down at the disfigured child, aware that this time when she saw the tot, the first thing she noticed was the child’s eyes, not the red scar on her cheek. “She does have clear blue eyes,” commented Colette, surprised she had never noticed them before.
Gavin smiled down at the infant, moving closer to touch the forehead of the baby. His gazed shifted from the infant to Colette. Their eyes met, his lips parting ever so slightly. “Truly lovely.”
She wondered if the compliment was meant for her or the baby. She had been complimented much in her life, fawned over by courtiers such that she stopped hearing the remarks. But these simple words touched her at her core.
Illuminated in the golden light of the setting sun, Gavin was more than handsome; he was the very image of the Greek gods of old. She wondered if he could read her thoughts and knew how her body longed to seek the comfort of his arms. She leaned toward him, and he slid his hand from the head of the infant to her shoulder and along her back, gently pulling her closer. She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes traveling up his perfect form to his soft lips, seductive with promise. He leaned closer and everything else seemed to disappear. All that was left was her and Gavin and the setting sun…
Pippa heaved violently over the railing of the ship, jolting Colette back to reality. She jumped back from both Gavin and Pippa, though for different reasons.
“Oh dear, Pippa, you do not look at all well.” It was Colette’s turn to state the obvious.
“Sorry, my lady.” Pippa held on to the railing, doubled over so that her cheek rested against the smooth wood. “Not feeling quite myself.”
“Sometimes it takes a few days to get yer sea legs,” said Gavin with sympathy. “Stand here and look at the horizon. Keep the wind in yer face if it helps.”
In response, Pippa heaved again.
“Is there anything we can do to assist her?” It was a strange experience for Colette to be in a position to care for the needs of her maid. Everything on this journey seemed backward and now even the natural order of things was reversed, and instead of being waited on, she was the caretaker.
Strangely, it felt rather liberating. Somehow the implied message of always having other people look after her was that she was incompetent to care for even her own basic needs. Since the beginning of her journey, she had been pleased to find that this was not the case. She enjoyed the opportunity to take care of herself and others, though considering Pippa’s current malady,
Colette did not relish getting too close.
“No’ much we can do but ride it out,” said Gavin.
“Pippa.” Colette took command. “Would you feel better here at the railing or would you like to lie down for a spell?”
“Think I’d like to lie down,” said Pippa, doubled over at the waist.
“Come with me,” said Colette, embracing her new role as caretaker. “Your cabin is this way.” She glanced back at Gavin and almost stopped short from the sweetness of the smile on his face. She knew she needed to put more distance between them or she might do something delightfully regrettable.
“Perhaps you could find us a bucket,” Colette called over her shoulder to Gavin. Nothing could chase away attraction so quick as the thought of the chamber pot.
“It would be my honor, m’lady.” Gavin bowed at the waist as if she had sent him on an epic quest. Beside her, Pippa started to gurgle and Colette quickened her step, hoping that Gavin would complete the task with alacrity.
Pippa was soon seen to her tiny cabin, now sickroom, and reclined on her bunk, her eyes closed, her coloring a sickly hue of green. Colette placed the bucket within easy reach and lingered for a moment, wondering if there was anything more she could do. She reviewed what her own mother had said to her on the rare occasions on which she had become ill, but Colette doubted that being chastised for being overcome with sickness would help restore Pippa to health any more than it had helped her.
When she felt sickly or discouraged, she would turn to books. “Have you ever heard the story of the Trojan horse?” she asked, deciding to begin with a few Greek myths. She told the story of Helen of Troy and the giant horse until the room darkened and Pippa’s eyes closed as she fell into a deep sleep.
Colette felt accomplished to have distracted her maid from her sickness until she slept. She left Pippa to recover as she could, closing the door behind her.
The ship rocked and swayed beneath her feet but far from being distressed by it, or made ill as it had her poor maid, Colette found the movement comforting, as if swinging in a bassinet like a baby. The baby in her arms had slept for a while but now glared at her, making slight whimpering and unhappy noises. Colette’s first thought was to take the baby back to her maid, but of course Pippa could barely take care of herself at the moment. So what to do with the child?
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