Seven Years to Sin(9)
“The pleasure is mine,” she demurred, returning the smile he offered from the depths of a coarse white beard. “You command an impressive ship, Captain.”
“Aye, that she is.” He tipped up his hat to get a better look at her. “I would be ’onored to ’ave you join me for the evenin’ meals.”
“I would enjoy that very much, thank you.”
“Excellent.” Smith gestured at a young seaman. “Miller ’ere will show you to yer cabin. If you ’ave any questions or concerns, ’e can see to them.”
“I’m very much obliged.” As the captain went about the business of preparing to set sail, Jess turned to Miller, who she guessed was no more than ten and seven.
“Milady.” He gestured ahead to an open companionway and stairs leading below deck. “This way.”
She followed him across the midship, fascinated by the courage of the men climbing the rigging like industrious little crabs. But as she descended the stairs, her admiration was redirected to the vessel’s impressive interior.
The paneled companion-and passageway gleamed with polish, as did the brass hardware that secured the doors and hung the flashlamps. She’d been uncertain of what to expect, but this attention to detail was a surprise and a delight. Miller paused before a door and knocked, which elicited a shouted permission to enter from Jess’s abigail, Beth.
The cabin Jess entered was small but well appointed; it held a narrow bed, a modestly sized rectangular window, and a wooden table with two chairs. On the sole by one of her trunks sat a crate of her favorite claret. Although it was the smallest space she’d ever occupied as a bedchamber, she found the limits of the cabin comforting. And she was deeply appreciative that, for the next few weeks at least, she would not have to anticipate how to respond to others in a manner that made them feel better.
Reaching up, she withdrew the pin securing her hat and handed both to Beth.
Miller promised to return at six to take her to supper, then ducked back out to the passageway. After the door shut, Jess’s gaze met Beth’s.
The abigail bit her lower lip and spun in a quick circle. “This is a grand adventure, milady. I’ve missed Jamaica since we left.”
Jess exhaled to ease the knot in her stomach, then smiled. “And a certain young man.”
“Yes,” the maid agreed. “ ’Im, too.”
Beth had been a blessing the past few days, keeping Jess’s spirits high while everyone around her had been so disapproving of her plans.
“An adventure,” Jess repeated. “I think it will be.”
When the knock came at Jess’s cabin door shortly before six, she set aside the book she’d been reading and stood with some reluctance. Beth was mending a stocking on the opposite side of the small table, and the quiet companionship had been most welcome.
Setting her work down, Beth went to answer the door. As the panel swung open, Miller’s young face was revealed. He smiled shyly, showing slightly crooked teeth. Jess dismissed Beth to enjoy her own meal, then followed the young crewman to the captain’s great cabin. As they neared the wide door marking the end of the passageway, the plaintive notes of a violin grew in volume. The instrument was consummately played, the tune sweet yet haunting. Enamored with the music, she quickened her step. Miller knocked once, then opened the door without waiting for a reply. He gestured her into the sizable cabin with a gallant sweep of his arm.
She entered with a practiced smile, her gaze locating Captain Smith as he pushed to his feet at a long dining table, along with two other gentlemen who were introduced to her as the Chief Mate and ship’s surgeon. She exchanged the expected pleasantries, then turned her attention to the violin player. He stood with his back to her before the large gallery windows wrapping the stern. He was sans tailcoat, which caused her to glance hastily away. But when the captain approached to escort her to the table, she risked another furtive glance at the scandalously semi-dressed gentleman. Without tails to block her gaze, she was afforded a prime view of the man’s derriere, which was quite noteworthy. It was not a part of the male anatomy she’d had cause to study before. She found she quite enjoyed the ogling when the buttocks on display were so firm and well-shaped.
As she conversed with the ship’s officers, Jess glanced frequently at the dark-haired musician who coaxed such beautiful notes from the violin. The fluid, practiced movement of his arm caused his back and shoulders to flex in a manner that had always fascinated her. The male body was so much larger and more powerful than a woman’s—capable of fierce aggression while also being sleek and graceful.
The tune ended. The player pivoted to return the violin and bow to their case waiting on the chair beside him. Jess caught a quick glimpse of his profile. A frisson of awareness swept over her skin. He collected his jacket from the chair where it was draped, then shrugged into it. She hadn’t thought it possible that the act of putting clothes on could be as arousing as watching them come off, but this man made it so. The graceful economy of his movements was inherently sensual, which suited his air of unwavering confidence and command.
“And this,” the captain said, turning slightly to gesture at the gentleman, “is Mr. Alistair Caulfield, owner of this fine vessel and brilliant violinist, as you ’eard.”
Jess swore her heart ceased beating for a moment. Certainly, she stopped breathing. Caulfield faced her and sketched a perfectly executed, elegant bow. Yet his head never lowered and his gaze never left hers.