Page 37 of Lord of Temptation
Instead she continued to think about the last time she saw Walter and how awful it had been. The argument, the unkind words, the tempers flaring. Oh, if she could only have that night over—
But she couldn’t. And that’s what hurt the most. She’d made a dreadful mistake and she had no way to right it.
At Martha’s insistence, she finally dragged herself from the bed. Raising her arms, she stretched from one side to the other. “I must have finally become accustomed to being on a ship. I feel as though we’re doing little more than bobbing.”
“We are only bobbing,” Martha said. “When I went to the deck earlier for some fresh air, the sails were down.”
Anne lowered her arms. “Why?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to take it up with the captain.”
“Is there another storm brewing?”
“Not that I saw.”
Why was he delaying their return to England? She hired him to make a short trip of it. She didn’t want her family worrying about her any longer than necessary.
“Quickly. Help me to dress.”
She had just finished buttoning the final button at her throat, when a knock sounded. She and Martha exchanged quick glances before her maid hastened to the door and opened it.
“May I come in?” the captain asked, and yet the authority in his voice indicated it wasn’t truly a request.
She’d seen him very little since leaving Scutari. She’d almost forgotten that he was a man accustomed to being obeyed on all matters.
Martha opened the door wider, and he strode in. She was surprised by the newly acquired deep lines on his face, as though he wasn’t sleeping any more soundly than she. She didn’t want to admit how many nights she had contemplated seeking him out, asking him to simply hold her while she fought for sleep. His gaze traveled over her, and he seemed none too pleased by what stood before him. She straightened her shoulders, angled her chin. She had a right to grieve, but this journey was supposed to allow her to put it all behind her. Why didn’t it?
“You’re wasting away,” he said.
Self-consciously she plucked at her skirt. The dress did seem looser than it was when she wore it to travel through the streets of Scutari. “The sea is not agreeing with me. Why are we stopped?”
“I have a surprise for you.” He tossed a bundle of clothes to her. She juggled them before finally securing them in her grasp. “Put those on.”
It was a small bundle. She peeled away a pair of trousers and a shirt. “These are britches.”
“I’m not in the habit of carrying around items without knowing what they are.”
“Ladies do not wear britches.”
“Those who wish to look out from the crow’s nest do.”
She clutched the garments to her chest. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Was he implying what she thought he was? “How do you propose I get there?”
“You’ll climb.”
He said it with such assurance that she couldn’t help but laugh. “And if I fall?”
“You won’t. You’ll be secured with a rope and I’ll be there with you.”
She shook her head. “It’s far too dangerous.”
“You never struck me as cowardly.”
“I’m practical,” she bit out.
“Scared,” he taunted.
“I’m not.” He made her feel like a child, but it wasn’t the height or the climb that terrified her. It was the thought of falling, not to the deck but into his arms.
