She nodded, but rolled her head toward the wall.
When he spied the teeth marks and gouges from fingernails that marked her breasts, he withheld the oath that sprang to his lips. The agony she must feel. His heart squeezed into a tight, firm ball. As tender and careful as he had ever been, he bathed her upper half. She withstood his ministrations bravely, not uttering one word, although she winced once or twice.
“Can I remove your skirt? It is ruined, and I’m sure very uncomfortable. I’ll give you one of my shirts to wear.”
She turned her face back to him. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. Her eyes swam with tears.
What did she have to be sorry for? “About what?”
“I ruined your sister’s outfit.”
She was worried about the garment at a time like this? He smiled at her. “She will survive without it.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead with his fingers. “Please don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it.”
The events of the day played havoc with her emotions. He grabbed a white shirt from the drawer beneath his berth and helped her into it before he dragged the skirt down her legs and off. Then he tugged the sheet and blanket up to her chin. Morgan wiped the tears off her cheeks with the pad of his thumb, the liquid burning him for his inability to protect her.
A light knock slid into the cabin. “Do you think you can let the surgeon check you?”
Indecision trembled through her watery eyes. “Yes,” she said slowly, her voice a mere whisper.
Morgan forced a smile. “Good.”
He rose and opened the door. With his eyes, he conveyed to the surgeon all he needed to know about her mental state, but Morgan was sure he had seen it before with the men he treated.
Morgan walked with him to the berth. Arianna clutched the blanket to her chin with only her face exposed. “This is Doctor Stevens, and he is very good at his job.”
“I am always happy to meet a beautiful woman. Only I wish it weren’t under these circumstances.” The surgeon flashed her a warm, comforting smile. “I know you are hurting. I will be as gentle as possible.”
Her rigid body and firm grip on the covers told Morgan she wasn’t convinced.
“Captain, please leave us while I examine her.”
“No. I want him to stay.” Arianna’s eyes shouted her fear as she fought to rise.
Morgan rushed to her and eased her down. “I’m not going anywhere. If you want me to, I will stay right here.” He turned to the surgeon. “You will have to examine her with me present.”
One short nod displayed his understanding of the situation.
Morgan turned back to Arianna. “I will wait over by my desk. Is that satisfactory?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Yes.”
He was not used to asking permission to do anything, but with Arianna injured and in agony, it came easily. This was his fault.
Morgan paced in front of his desk, horrible diagnoses speeding through his mind. He glanced at the bed, but the surgeon’s broad back hid Arianna and what he did to her from his view. Doctor Stevens’s soothing murmurs drifted to his ears as he strained to hear a cry from Arianna, which would bring him to her side in an instant. But she was courageous, and he doubted a sound of distress would fall from her lips.
What was taking him so long? Minutes seemed like hours.
“Captain.”
He spun to face the surgeon, expecting the worse but hoping for the best.
“She is sore and bruised, but there are no broken bones or permanent damage. She needs rest and sleep.”
Morgan released the breath he held. “Thank you, Doctor Stevens.”
“She is still frightened, but hopefully it will fade as she heals. I hear from the men she is spirited. I’m sure she will return to her old self quickly.”
Morgan glanced in her direction again and noticed the anxiety floating in her eyes as her gaze fixed on him. He clapped the surgeon on the back. “Thank you for examining her.”
“I’ll check in on her tomorrow to make sure nothing has changed.”
As soon as Doctor Stevens exited, Morgan hurried to Arianna’s side. “He says you will be back to your old self in a few days.” At one time, he wished her old self would disappear to be replaced by a more docile, obedient female, but not in this way. She had grown on him in the two days they had been together, and he wanted her determined, willful, brave personality back.
He tucked the blankets around her, leaving ample room so they weren’t tight and didn’t confine her. “He says you need sleep.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll leave you to rest.”
Her hands shot out from beneath the covers and grabbed his wrist. “Please don’t go. I won’t be able to sleep if you do. Briggs or someone he knows might…”
“I will stay.” He slid onto the edge of the mattress. It was the least he could do for not performing his job as he should. If she had died…
Her eyes closed, her breathing evened into regular, deep breaths, and her fingers loosened and slipped from his wrist.
****
Every part of her hurt. Her face felt double its normal size. Confusion filled Arianna until the events of the previous day flooded back in vivid, rich detail. Her eyes flew open to the sun rising over the horizon, throwing a golden stream of light across the water. Her gaze darted from the window to the inside of the cabin, searching for Morgan. She found him slumped over the mahogany desk, asleep. Warmth spread over her, and she relaxed. He had remained as he had promised.
An urgent need hit her. She couldn’t possibly ask for his help, and besides, she didn’t want to wake him. She eased the covers off and rose from the bed on wobbly legs like an old lady. Dizziness swamped her, and she swayed for a few seconds before she steadied herself. How hard could this be? With one arm wrapped around her stomach that still burned from Briggs’ brutality, she shuffled on cold feet to the painted screen Morgan had erected in the corner of the room for her personal needs and the chamber pot behind it.
After finishing her business, she rounded the corner and came face to face with Morgan.
“You are not supposed to be out of bed.” He scooped her into his arms.
Her face heated. Had he heard her? At least with all the bruises, he probably didn’t notice her blush. “I had a matter I needed to attend to.” She tried to sound indignant, but failed.
He laid her on his berth. “The next time you let me know, and I will help you.”
“You were sleeping.”
He slid the blankets over her. “Call me. I am a light sleeper.”
She had discovered that.
“Are you feeling better?” Concern marked his face as he assessed every detail.
“A little.” The biting pain remained, but the fear had diminished. Sleep had restored her.
She remembered asking him to remain in the cabin while she slept and heat from embarrassment filled her, but she had needed his strength and protection, his caring and kindness. He was the only one she knew to any degree. The only one she could depend on. Every ability and defense had been beaten from her, and she’d been so scared. She had never encountered such a situation before. “I want to thank you for staying with me.”
He eased onto the mattress beside her. “I would never leave you in the condition you were in, and as captain of this ship, it was my duty to protect you since I already failed in that respect.”
The point of a knife nicked her heart. He had only stayed with her because it was required of him?
Of course, what other reason would he have?
“I should have been able to take care of myself.”
“You should never have been hurt. I hold myself responsible.”
“How could you know Briggs would attack me? Or I was in the hold?”
“I should be aware of what is happening at all times.” He paused. “What were you doing in the hold? You were supposed to be helping Hooper.”
She struggled to rise.
“Rest.”
> “I have been resting.”
He studied her. “Are you sure you are strong enough?”
“Yes, I want to sit.” She needed to throw off the blanket of vulnerability that covered her.
He helped her up, fluffed the pillows, and made her lean back against them.
She answered his previous question. “I completed every chore Hooper asked me to do, and then he dismissed me. I remembered I never finished checking the cargo and went down to the hold. That’s when…” She lowered her eyes as well as her voice. “Is he dead? Did I kill him?”
“Yes. Mr. Markham informed me last night while you were sleeping. If you hadn’t, I would have for what he did to you.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at her hands. “I never killed a man before.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t like it. I can still feel his warm blood as it…”
Morgan placed his hands over hers. His heat seeped into her, and security embraced her. She raised her lids and scrutinized his face. Every feature, every prominence, every hollow. “Killing is never pleasant, but sometimes it is necessary. You stabbed him in self-defense. He would have murdered you, or worse. He was a vile, bas— He was not a nice man.”
“I know.”
“You said earlier, there was a private matter between the two of you.” Curiosity and suspicion rang in his voice. “Certainly you weren’t intimately involved with a man like that.”
Anger seeped in. She yanked her hands from beneath his. “No.” Indignation and outrage hardened her voice. How could he think she would have anything to do with that piece of filth? “Briggs was a member of the crew on one of my papa’s ships. During a voyage, he continuously harassed and frightened a particular young lad. One day it went too far. Briggs picked him up and threw him overboard, even though he knew the boy couldn’t swim. If I hadn’t jumped in and rescued him, he would have drowned. I told my papa who did it, and Briggs was flogged. He blames me for his punishment.”
“Why didn’t you inform me about him earlier?”
She folded her hands together and plopped them in her lap. “Because I thought I could handle it.”
“You realize you were wrong.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no. He almost raped you.”
“Yes, but he didn’t. I stopped him before he was able to.” She straightened her spine and shoulders as much as she could. “I just have to learn how to defend myself without getting injured if I am to live on my own.”
He sprang from the bed. “How do you know you won’t marry?”
“I don’t, but even if I do, my husband can’t be with me every minute of the day. I need to be prepared. My brothers showed me a little or I wouldn’t be here now but apparently, not enough.”
His eyes narrowed. “The knife you used to kill Briggs looked suspiciously like mine.”
She bit her lip. “It was yours.”
He paced before her, and she noticed him fighting to keep his anger in check. Being hurt was good for one thing. He stopped and faced her. “You were going through my things again?”
She smoothed the blanket. “I didn’t make a mess this time. I was very neat. After Briggs’ confronted me on the deck, I thought—and I was right—that I might need to defend myself. I used your neckcloth—”
“My neckcloth?” He rubbed his hand down his face.
“Yes. I used it to tie the scabbard on my thigh.”
His eyes widened.
“My brothers taught me that trick.”
“I’d like to have a talk with your brothers.”
“They are very bossy and overprotective.”
“I can see why, with a sister like you.”
She glared at him. A knock sounded on the door. She jumped and her gaze darted and clung to Morgan.
“Enter.”
“I thought you might like breakfast. I brought enough for Arianna and you, Captain.”
Arianna breathed a sigh of relief as Mark walked into the room, but froze as he turned to her and his smiling face transformed to a frown of horror.
“Do I look that bad?” She sagged with despair. She had forgotten about her appearance and the pain while she sparred with Morgan. Now the discomfort returned and the feeling her face was twice its normal size. She lifted her hand to touch her hot cheek and winced as a stinging sensation swept through it.
Morgan scowled at Mark before he rushed to her side and wrapped her fingers within his. “It is a little swollen and discolored. In a few days, it will be back to normal.”
“I must look like a monster.”
“No, you are beautiful.”
Heated shivers raced up her spine as her eyes widened. Beautiful? No one had ever called her beautiful. Did Morgan really think so?
“Give it time.” Morgan turned to Mark. “Put the tray on the table.”
He did so and then apologized to Arianna. “I didn’t mean to make you sad. It took me by surprise is all. You don’t look that bad.”
“Thank you.” She knew he was sincere, and she couldn’t blame him for an honest reaction.
“That will be all, Mark. You are dismissed.”
****
Arianna seemed amazed by his remark that she was beautiful, and to tell the truth, Morgan was surprised he had uttered it. Before now, that sentiment had never passed through his lips, but he hadn’t lied. None could compare to Arianna, even with her swollen, black and blue face. He had seen pretty women, but had never had the urge to tell them so. Some men used the words to get a woman in their bed, but that was not his way.
He scooped her into his arms.
“I can walk to the table.”
“Maybe you can, but you aren’t. Doctor Stevens’s orders are for you to rest.”
His anger at her for taking his knife had cooled. She didn’t need him upset with her, and if she hadn’t taken it, she would probably be dead right now instead of Briggs. And when he grabbed a shirt for her to wear, the contents of the drawer had been neatly arranged.
He stared at her firm, shapely legs hanging over his arm where the white shirt had ridden up. The thought of his neckcloth—the same neckcloth he tied around his neck—secured on her thigh sent blood rushing to his manhood.
He set her in a ladder-back chair before the table. She shifted and winced. “Are you comfortable?”
“I will be fine.”
“I can put some blankets on the chair to make it softer.”
“It’s not that.”
Morgan narrowed his eyes. Something definitely troubled her. “Then what is it?”
“I’m not sure how much I can eat, even though I am hungry. My mouth and jaw hurt, and my stomach is still sore where Briggs punched me.”
“He punched you in the stomach?” A woman? The area where babies grew until birth. Bloody hell! The man was a monster, a depraved lunatic. His child maturing in Arianna’s womb suddenly materialized before his eyes. A pleasant sensation rippled through him.
He must be crazy. He was promised to Susan, who right now might be carrying his child. Morgan shook his head to dispel the picture and stared down at the breakfast tray.
“Eat as much as you can. Mark brought you an orange, flour pudding, beans, and eggs, which are soft. Leave whatever you can’t manage.” Arianna never complained, even when she should, so her injuries must truly bother her. But she couldn’t afford to lose pounds. She weighed not much more than a feather now.
Morgan poured them both a cup of coffee and then sank into the chair behind his desk while cradling the cup in his hands. Swallowing the hot liquid, he sighed. He needed this. It had been a long night. “The coffee is good. Take small sips. You won’t have to open your mouth much.”
He had stayed up, watching over and soothing her when the nightmares struck. He had longed to slip beneath the covers and cradle her within his protective embrace but feared causing her further agony. Only when she quieted had he dared to close his eyes for a few minutes.
She raised a spoon dotted with p
udding and opened her mouth just wide enough for it to enter. How he wished his finger slipped between her lips instead of the utensil.
Arianna attempted one more spoonful and then fell against the chair. “I’ve had enough for now.”
Her voice sounded weak and weary. He yearned to transfer her pain into himself.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to go back to my bed.” She raised her eyes to his. “I mean your bed. You don’t mind do you?” She glanced at the other side of the room. “I don’t think I can manage to get in and out of the hammock right now. I’ll return to it tomorrow.”
“Oh no, you won’t. You will stay in my bed until you are completely healed.”
Relief fell over her face. He scooped her up and slid her beneath the covers. Her light body felt more fragile than usual, her vitality depleted, although she’d deny it.
“Close your eyes, and go to sleep, love.” He brushed stray hairs from her face.
She obeyed for once. He stood over her, mesmerized by her facial expressions as she drifted into sleep and dreams became her world. The feathery lashes that caressed the tanned skin, the pleasing contours that made her visage exciting and lovely, her sloped nose, the kissable, full lips, and the intriguing mole on her neck just below the lobe of the right ear called to him. He could gaze at her forever. For a lifetime.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible.
He turned away and sauntered to the cabinet housing his books. Scanning the titles, he pulled one out and carried it to his desk. He opened the novel and tried to read, but he couldn’t concentrate. Arianna’s image swirled within his thoughts, weaving a path around and between Susan back home and his mission to rescue his brother. They all needed him, and he was more determined than ever to not let them down.
He stared out the window at the blue sky peppered with fluffy clouds. He longed for the wind to blow through his hair and to smell the salty air, which would clear his thoughts.
That was his problem. He had been in this cabin too long. With Arianna.
Where he wanted to be. And should be after his failure.
But he needed to know what was happening on his brig. Everyone on the Sea Dragon was his responsibility and depended on his command. He glanced at Arianna. He didn’t want her awakened with talk of business and his decisions.
Lost Honor Page 10