“She still needs—”
“Why does Catherine need the damn sunshine? She gets plenty of it through the windows.”
Santos shook his head in disgust. “It’s not the same. She needs the sun on her skin, the fresh air to fill her lungs. She needs to get out of that cabin if only for a short time.”
“Fine,” Lucian begrudgingly agreed. “Have it your way. Allow her out for thirty minutes and no more. And you’re responsible for her.”
“Fine with me,” Santos said with a nod. “She’ll give me no trouble. We get along just fine.”
Lucian grumbled beneath his breath and turned his attention back to the sea. “She gets along with all men. She has you wrapped around her finger. Bones can’t do enough for her, bringing her this and that from her stored trunks. And Jolly? He’s so besotted by her that all he does is smile when her name is mentioned.”
“You forgot Gumble, the cook.”
Lucian turned a quick glance on Santos. “Gumble?”
“Makes her something special every day.”
o0o
Lucian cast his eyes to the heavens. “Give me strength with this motley crew.”
Santos laughed. “You wouldn’t trade us for anything.”
“No, but I would her, if I could get the price I wanted.” Lucian felt a catch in his belly. An ache that gave him pause. Why should his own words disturb him?
“Revenge has a high price and is not always as rewarding as one thinks.”
“You begin to philosophize like Zeena.”
“Zeena is a wise woman; if I sound like her then you should heed my words.”
Lucian’s stare once again took on a faraway look. “I heed my own words. No others. Go and see to Catherine and remember, she is your responsibility while out on deck.”
“I’ll take good care of her,” Santos said before walking off.
“See that you do.” Lucian’s words followed him and sounded more like a stern warning than an order.
Lucian’s glance returned to the vast sea stretched out endlessly before him. His thoughts returned to matters at hand. His plans for revenge had been completely destroyed. He could think of no way possible that Catherine’ capture could benefit him. He had given serious consideration to allowing the evidence against the Marquis of Devonshire to stand and watch him hanged for treason. But then Abelard would not suffer the endless pain and sorrow that he had. And he wanted Abelard to suffer.
He had thought of returning Catherine home, but decided against such action. He had not questioned her about her father, had not sought to use her knowledge of him— against him. Tonight he would seek information and find another way to have his revenge.
He brought his hands to his neck and rubbed at the stiff muscles, tender and sore from standing at the ship’s wheel a good portion of the night. He had piloted the ship until exhausted and then returned to his cabin, falling into bed and into an instant slumber.
He had not anticipated his reaction to her kiss. He had not expected such a kiss. He had not thought her such a consummate lover. The notion disturbed him. The idea that she had shared her body with so many men irritated him. The fact that he should care one way or another infuriated him.
A delightfully teasing peal of feminine laughter drifted on the sea breeze around him. He stiffened knowing Catherine was on deck. He would ignore her presence. She was Santos’s responsibility. When male laughter joined hers he grew angry. She was probably using her womanly charm to wrap his crew around her finger. When their combined robust laughter escalated his control snapped like a dry twig ready for kindling. He swung around and marched straight for her.
o0o
Catherine had not felt this relaxed and content since leaving England. When Santos suggested a breath of fresh air she had almost screamed with delight. She had rushed into a peach silk dress, the design simple. No bows or trims adorned it, except of course her pearls. It was a frock for relaxation and not to entertain in, and she had fastened the garment with a smile of satisfaction.
Her hair had been hastily combed and secured with a yellow ribbon, wanting it drawn away from her face so she could catch the warmth of the sun upon her skin. In no time she had
finished dressing and had pulled Santos out the door of the cabin and up onto the deck.
The afternoon sun felt glorious against her skin and she breathed deeply of the fresh salty air, filling her lungs with the vibrant scent. She laughed with wonder and delight at the seabirds overhead circling the ship and squawking loudly as they attempted to claim their meal from the sea.
Bones had hurried off in search of her shawl, insisting she needed it and that he had seen it packed in one of her trunks. Cook had specially made his way on deck and handed her a spiced muffin fresh from the galley and Jolly stood close by smiling.