Early the next morning, the Jamaican Wind began the voyage home. Exhilarated by the prospect of leaving behind the heartache she had encountered in England, Eden joined her young husband on deck. She had sailed frequently with her father, and had learned at an early age that she was not to distract a captain from his duties. She remained close to Raven, but kept to the rail and out of his way.
He turned often to smile at her, and she could not help but note the pride in his expression as he gave the orders Randy MacDermott promptly relayed to the crew. A well-disciplined group, they negotiated the crowded River Thames with care, but upon reaching the North Sea, all sails were unfurled and the majestic ship leapt forward as though she, too, were anxious to return home.
“Home,” Eden whispered softly to herself, for while Alex had viewed Briarcliff with justifiable pride, it was on Jamaica that he had said he felt most at home. She was certain the plantation would be as beautiful a place as he had described, but without him, how could it ever truly be home to her?
Raven did not keep count as the morning progressed, but he knew that more often than not when he glanced toward Eden she was lost in thought rather than engrossed in the view of the sea he found so fascinating. Her golden gaze was focused inward, an
d he knew without having to ask that she was recalling the days she had spent with Alex. His expression became a defiant mask as he wondered if her marriage to him would ever hold the happiness she had found with Alex. He told himself repeatedly that it was far too soon for the beauty of her memories to have begun to fade, but that rationalization failed to assuage the aching need he felt inside.
Fearing she might be cold, he went to her side and slipped his arm around her waist to draw her close. “You mustn’t become chilled,” he cautioned.
“What? Oh, no, I’m fine. The day is far too pleasant to spend it in your cabin. I hope I’m not bothering anyone by standing here.”
Raven would not admit how greatly she bothered him when it was the fact she was so remote rather than in his way that had proved to be so distracting. “No, you’re welcome to stay on deck as long as you don’t become overtired.”
Eden blushed slightly, “I’m not in the least bit delicate, Raven. I’ve always loved to ride and—”
“Good Lord,” Raven interrupted. “You never should have gone riding with me the last day I visited the tenants.”
He appeared to be so troubled by that realization, Eden did not take his remark as a criticism. “Probably not, but I hadn’t stopped to think about, well, about what might have happened. It really is too soon to consider a child a certainty. I hope you haven’t told anyone yet.”
News of Eden’s possible pregnancy was the last thing Raven wished to confide in anyone but he caught himself before he declared that fact out loud. “I’d never discuss such intimate details of our lives with my crew, Eden. You needn’t worry that I’ll share our secrets with them, or anyone else.”
“Aren’t you and Randy close?”
“We were once,” Raven readily admitted. “I’m now a happily married man, however, and we won’t be spending as much of our time together as we once did.”
Eden saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of Raven’s mouth and understood just how they must have spent that time. “Even if you won’t be spending your leisure hours together, aren’t you still friends?”
“I think the fact that I’m now the earl will make it difficult for us to remain on such informal terms as we once were. My life has changed completely. If I no longer share the same interests as my former friends, I’ll probably find myself making new ones.”
While that was a reasonable assumption, Eden sensed more to Raven’s response than what was immediately apparent, but she chose not to pursue it. With him by her side, she tried to take note of the crew’s activities and ask questions about the voyage, but she soon noticed the men went out of their way to avoid coming anywhere near her. She knew they were not accustomed to having a woman on board, but she was not unattractive and wondered why none made any attempt to be friendly. The men who sailed with her father could always be counted upon to show off in every way they could when she and her mother were on board. She had expected Raven’s crew to behave in a similar fashion. Thinking they were attempting to be respectful, she hoped they would soon become more relaxed and friendly.
As they ate dinner that night, Raven was again all too aware of how difficult it was to begin any sort of intelligent conversation with Eden. It seemed every subject that came to mind led swiftly to Alex, and not wanting to remind her of the husband she had lost, he kept still. There was the voyage, of course, but they had discussed it at length that morning on deck. The journey would take approximately a month, and he knew he would have to find a way to be a better companion, and soon.
Believing Raven to be a quiet man, Eden was content to dine in what she naïvely regarded as a companionable silence. She smiled whenever their eyes met, and not noticing his nervousness, she was grateful they were getting along so well.
“Do you like to play games?” Raven asked when the table had been cleared.
“What sort of games?” Eden replied, afraid his taste in amusements might be far different than hers.
Raven went to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and removed a burl walnut box that measured a foot square. “This is a game Captain Cook supposedly liked so much his crew began calling it the Captain’s Mistress.”
Curious as to what the well-crafted box contained, when he returned to the table Eden leaned forward slightly to get a better look. “Perhaps my father’s heard of it, but he never mentioned it to me.”
Relieved he had succeeded in piquing her interest, Raven took the chair beside hers. He turned the box toward her and pulled up the lid. Designed to remain upright, the lid contained seven deep slots. The bottom of the box held forty-two wooden balls, each an inch in diameter. They were equally divided between light and dark.
“It looks interesting.” Eden picked up one of the smooth wooden balls and rolled it between her palms. “How’s the game played?”
“First you must decide if you want to take light or dark.”
“Light,” Eden responded, certain the dark should belong to him.
Raven made no effort to suppress a chuckle at her choice. “Then I’ll take dark,” he offered graciously. “Light always begins. The wooden balls are called rounds. The seven slots in the lid are chutes. The object of the game is to place four rounds of your own color in the chutes, either in a row vertically, horizontally, or diagonally. The rounds have to be in consecutive order, too.”
“That sounds easy enough.”
“It would be if I weren’t also trying to do the same thing and block your moves in the bargain.”