Kate refrained from commenting. She wanted to trust that her long-held beliefs about love and passion and romance were real. That Deverill could someday feel as deeply for her as she could feel about him. That he could learn to let down his guard and open his heart to her.
For now, however, she simply wanted to survive the Channel crossing.
—
After keeping Rachel company for a time, Kate went above deck again. And once again, her uncle chose to flee rather than be taken to task.
Kate was reassured by Deverill’s presence, though, when he returned to her side. She felt safer when she was with him. When the ship rose and fell on a high swell, she gripped the railing. Deverill never budged, but instead braced his legs naturally and swayed to the ship’s roll. But of course, he was accustomed to life on the high seas, impervious to waves.
As the day wore on, they partook of a light luncheon in the galley. Afterward, Kate returned to her station near the bow to watch the gray waters of the Channel race past. She could see land in the distance. The schooner was heading south and west now, she knew. Tomorrow they would reach the even more dangerous seas of the Bay of Biscay. For now, though, her anxiety began to ease.
But then dusk started to fall, and her nerves returned, despite her best efforts to tamp them down. Her aunt and uncle joined her and Deverill in the galley for a simple dinner, but then retired to their cabin. Kate lingered, reluctant to be alone.
In fact, she wanted Deverill to take her mind off her fear of drowning. To her shame, her hands started to shake. Her hands never shook.
“You are cold,” he murmured. Rising from the table, he shed his coat and draped it around her shoulders.
His body heat was still in the fabric, which comforted Kate a measure, enough that her lips formed a wincing smile of self-ridicule. “Not cold exactly. More lily-livered.”
Deverill chuckled. “Clearly you require something stronger than tea. I have a fine brandy that I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”
Turning, he rummaged in a cupboard and brought out a bottle, then poured an ample amount into a mug for her and sat beside her on the bench once again.
“Here, drink up,” he ordered.
Swallowing a gulp, Kate felt the burn down her throat, then eyed the depth of the liquid with skepticism. “If I drink all this, I will get foxed.”
“Being a little foxed could be the best thing for you.”
Replying in his same spirit, she tried to jest. “See, this is another way we are incompatible. I wouldn’t make a good wife for a magnate whose company builds ships.”
“No, but you will make a much better baroness than I make a baron.”
“True.” She was an expert in ballrooms, while he was expert in bedrooms and at sea.
Deverill was contemplating her with sympathy. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, Kate.”
She appreciated that he was willing to indulge her irrational trepidation, but shook her head. “You know you can’t promise any such thing. You cannot command nature.”
Taking another swallow, Kate recalled a memory of her cousin Quinn. “I realize now how Quinn felt. He once told me he’d designed his steam-driven ship because he hated being powerless to control fate. For years we all believed that if the Zephyr had been a steamship, it could have outrun the storm that sank it. As it turned out, the culprit wasn’t a storm but an evil man bent on greed and revenge. I still suffer nightmares about my parents sinking,” she admitted in a low voice.
Deverill reached out to touch the back of her hand where it rested on the table. “You are not alone, Kate. I have bad dreams of the recent war.”
She looked up at him. All day she had been selfishly thinking only of herself. Giving herself a mental shake, she determined to do better. “I am sorry. What
kind of dreams trouble you?”
His jaw hardened, and he drew back his hand. “I dislike talking about it.”
“I cannot imagine what you went through,” she murmured.
For a moment, he made no reply. “Most people cannot. Particularly your British aristocracy.”
“It is your aristocracy now also,” Kate reminded him gently.
“True.” Deverill heaved a sigh. “Regrettably, I had loyalties to both sides but had to choose between them.”
“Why did you elect to fight when you could have safely remained in England?”