Chapter 7 #2
Heather pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I have Nepeta cataria in the hold, but I haven’t any Foeniculum vulgare seed. Does the plant require drying?”
Duncan’s reply faded behind the rushing in Percy’s ears. Seasickness? Oh, hell. He didn’t know enough about pregnancy to know how soon a woman might feel ill after sex.
A cold sweat formed behind his knees and down his back.
His gaze sharpened on her as she spoke eagerly and animatedly with Duncan, and, despite himself, Percy felt a pang of longing in his chest alongside his trepidation. He wanted more of Heather’s discussion, wanted the fiery passion in her gaze to be directed at him.
Her full, rosy mouth curved upward, and he remembered tasting those petal-soft lips. She’d been sodding delicious. And look where it’s gotten you, his mind whispered.
Percy shifted his stance and gripped the door’s frame as another swell hit the ship.
With an internal rebuke, he let his gaze roam over her. She was a mite pale, but that could be attributed to her injury. Was it seasickness?
“… And o’ course,” Duncan was saying, “ye and any other women on board may take these cloths any time tha’ ye require ’em. I assure ye they’re clean, and while I havenae the proper items required fer a young lass aboard the ship, these will do nicely, I believe.”
“Thank you, sir. I—” The words died on Heather’s tongue, her eyes glazing for a long moment before she blinked. “I’ll let the other women know.”
She smiled thinly before rising to her feet, gripping at the wall of shelves as the ship tilted.
Thanking the surgeon once more, she made her way past Percy and into the narrow corridor.
Percy saluted the man and walked with Heather in silence through the darkness, his mind abuzz and his stomach all but entirely in knots.
He wanted to offer her comfort, but the concept was so unfamiliar to him.
His gut swooped, then flipped over with trepidation.
He hadn’t the faintest notion of how to inquire about a woman’s courses…
so he wouldn’t. If she wanted to offer information, to confide in him, she would.
He simply had to ensure she felt safe enough to talk to him.
“Seasickness, Heather?” he asked softly.
Her mind awhirl and her stomach buzzing with nerves, Heather nodded. “Mmm,” she hummed into the darkness.
The Sapphire pitched, and she flung out her arms, settling one hand on Percy’s thickly muscled arm. Lord above, the man was large!
Her inner warnings to release the man’s arm went unheeded as her grip lingered far longer than required. His radiating warmth seemed to travel up her arm and envelop her. A quivering heat spread through her stomach, and she leaned closer…before reason intervened, and she released him on a gasp.
For pity’s sake, Heather!
She softly cleared her throat, suddenly very aware of the slumbering men around them on the mess deck.
“My guard is gone tonight—no doubt due to the storm—but one is likely to take his place in the morn. We must quickly devise a plan to free me of their watchful eye so that I might speak privately with the captain. No doubt our good fortune will soon run its course and the earl will discover his missing documents. We haven’t much time, Percy. ”
Light flashed through the companionway, followed swiftly by a crack of thunder.
“Yes, of course you’re right,” he muttered. “In addition to confining you, the earl has struck at my reputation—likely due to his suspicion about our acquaintance. For that reason, despite my efforts, I’ve not only been unable to speak with the captain, but I’ve also lost sway with the crew.”
“Why would the captain and crew take the earl’s word over yours?” she asked. “He’s a fool.”
Percy shrugged. “A powerful fool.”
“What if I professed an emergency and sent my guard away?”
“That could work.”
Her eyes widened as an idea struck. “What of right now?”
“The captain will be on the quarterdeck, manning the helm during the storm.”
“Damn.”
He huffed a laugh. “Your idea of an emergency on the morrow is sound. Wait until the storm has passed, to ensure the captain has retreated once more to his cabin.”
She deflated. “Very well.”
He cleared his throat softly. “I shall leave you to your sleep. If you require any aid—any at all—I’m more than happy to provide it.”
“Good night, Percy,” she whispered.
His gaze scanned her features before he tugged on his forelock. “Sleep well, Heather.” With that, he turned and strode back to the swinging hammocks, nearly disappearing in the dark.
Heather entered her diminutive cabin, gripping the wall and the chest of drawers as the ship tilted. Hell, but her world had tilted.
She lowered herself to the hanging bed, its rhythmic clunk, thunk, clunk, thunk joining the thudding pulse in her ears.
For the briefest of moments with the surgeon, she’d thought it possible that she could be pregnant. Heaven forfend!
Her courses had been meant to arrive within the first few days that she’d been aboard.
That window had come to a close more than a sennight ago.
Just as quickly as her worry had come, however, it had fled.
She recalled seeing spots of blood. Not her ordinary menses, to be sure, but mayhap the strain of the journey had caused the irregularity. It was entirely plausible.
She pulled her lips between her teeth and worried the delicate flesh.
Clunk, thunk, clunk…thunk. Her bed continued to beat a rhythmic tattoo between the wall and chest of drawers, while her heart thrummed with anxiety and her stomach swirled with nausea.