Page 52 of Any Duke in a Storm

She nodded sagely. “The neighbor behind the tavern kept goats. They can have diarrhea. It’s vile. Soft, watery, and smelly.” She wrinkled her nose and then held the end with her fingers. “Speaking of, you need a bath, Cap’n.”

That reminded him. “Who tended to me while I was ill?”

Lisbeth turned her head away, but Narina was quick to volunteer the information. “Bess. I mean, Lisbeth did it. She could have had one of the women here help once we got back to the island, but she only mademetake away the soiled linens.” Narina made a gagging noise. “Smelly and fuc—deuced foul.”

He had to laugh at the child’s brutal honesty. “Thanks.”

“Narina!” Lisbeth scolded, going red.

Why should she be embarrassed that she’d cared for him? It was a considerate thing to do, and besides, it wasn’t like Lisbeth hadn’t seen him in the altogether already.

“At least she can be honest,” he said, making that upper lip disappear between her teeth again as her slender throat worked. “A virtue to be valued, no matter its delivery.”

Lisbeth turned away, guilt swamping her. She knew what Raphael wanted, but the cost for her truths was too much to pay. Her entire career was riding on her success at this. All her life, her job had been her only calling, and now, suddenly, she felt torn in multiple directions. Her usually infallible sense of judgment felt stretched thin.

Because ofhim.

The last few days had been harrowing. Watching Raphael on the verge of death had had an impact that she never could have foreseen. Lisbethdidcare about him. It would have hurt irreparably if she’d lost him…and that knowledge had shifted something vital inside of her. Something that she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. Somewhere along the way, the rogue had burrowed his way under her skin and breached every single one of her defenses.

If she told him one honest thing…she would tell him everything.

And that she could not do.

She needed to get to New York, get her ship, find Jenks’s people, and finish her job. All other diversions could wait.

He’s not a diversion.

No. Raphael Saint was much worse—he was a hazard.

“Can I see the healing cut?” Narina was asking. “Your grouchy grouch of a caretaker wouldn’t let me. Said it wasn’t a sight for young girls, but I’ve seen plenty of worse wounds before. Oozing pus and blood. I bet yours is nothing.”

“Nari,” Lisbeth said, feeling mortified again. “It’s not proper to ask such a thing.”

“You wouldn’t say no to a boy,” she replied sourly and scowled. “What if I wanted to be a surgeon? My delicate sensibles wouldn’t matter then, would they?”

“Sensibilities,” Lisbeth said.

“That’s what I bloody said!”

Raphael shifted to a sitting position with a wince.“She is only curious, and I want to have a look for myself anyway before I do have a wash. I am fine with her seeing it, if you are.”

Narina wasn’t wrong, but Lisbeth hadn’t felt comfortable letting her gawp without Raphael’s permission. She nodded and watched as he gingerly scooted to the side of the bed. He lifted his hem and removed the linen wrapped around him until the jagged gash was revealed.

At first glance, the injury wasn’t too bad, about five and a half inches long from his navel to his left hip, though the skin was puffy and purple around the neat sutures. Catgut would disappear on its own in time. Some yellowish bruising expanded along his torso, but that was to be expected. The doctor, a physician from Jamaica—thank God it hadn’t been Boisie or one of the other crewmates—had done an excellent job.

“Bloody hell,” Narina whispered. “That must have stung like a bit…er, bee.” She shot a sheepish glance at Lisbeth.

“I didn’t feel it at the time,” Raphael murmured. “Too busy trying not to get skewered a second time.”

“Blimey!” Narina gave an excited squeal as Lisbeth busied herself with sending for one of the maids to arrange a bath. The wound should be healed enough for him to bathe properly, though he might require assistance. Would he ask for someone else? The hot jolt in her gut took her by surprise. “I heard you fought off a dozen cutpurses!” Narina was chattering. “Gibbons and Ballsack said it was just the two of you.”

Lisbeth paused. Did she hear that name right? KnowingNarina’s cheek, she’d butchered the man’s name on purpose. Lisbeth would never admit it aloud, but that was deviously clever for a twelve-year-old. Narina was another thing that she would have to take care of in some fashion when all of this was said and done.

The girl could not stay with her, nor could she return to Bridgetown unless Lisbeth could arrange care and a safe home for her there. She needed a strong, loving influence in her life and proper instruction, not getting her education from drunks from a tavern. Again, that was another problem for later.

Half a dozen women arrived with a few men carrying buckets filled with water to the adjacent bathing room, twittering and curious to get a look at their favorite captain. Including the pretty brunette Lisbeth knew fancied Raphael. She’d kept them all away before so he could rest, but now that he was awake, he could make his own decisions. She clenched her jaw and swallowed down the spurt of irrational jealousy.

“Nari, come,” she snapped, harsher than she’d meant to. “Time to go.”

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