“What may seem like an accident to you might also be called fate. How else can you explain why one man dies of old age, and another loses his life in his teens?”
“You’ve given this subject considerable thought?” While Raven wasn’t surprised, he did not think it healthy for her to dwell on such a morbid topic.
“Well of course, doesn’t everyone? None of us escapes death. Why shouldn’t the subject fascinate us?”
“You have a point there.”
Eden smiled, pleased he saw the logic in her comments. She had chosen to wear her gray gown for John’s service, and turned for Raven to help her on with her cloak. While the sky was now clear, the day was still a chilly one and she pulled on a pair of kid gloves before again covering her curls with her hood. Raven was dressed in black, but then he usually was.
“When we get to Jamaica, could we visit Molly?” Eden asked as she moved toward the door. “I know she’ll be heartbroken to learn of John’s death, but perhaps it will ease her grief to know his last thoughts were of her.”
Raven swung open the door, but hesitated before moving out of her way. “I hate to disillusion you, but Molly works in a tavern in Kingston, and it’s more than likely that she won’t even remember who John Rawlings was.”
Disturbed by that news, Eden frowned slightly. “I’d still like to see her. If there’s even the slightest chance that she loved him, we owe it to John to make the effort to contact her.”
Raven hated to lose a member of his crew and, like his bride, also thought he owed a man who had died on board his ship every courtesy. “If it would please you, we’ll do it,” he promised, but he thought she would change her mind about speaking with Molly once she saw how rowdy a place the Fife and Drum was. The matter settled for the moment, he took her arm as they made their way up on deck.
Eden stood at Raven’s side as he conducted the burial service. She thought he had a marvelous voice, one perfect for intoning the Scriptures and yet there was nothing theatrical about his delivery. She wished he had taken part in Alex’s funeral now that she knew how beautifully he read Bible verses. Alex had meant far more to him than John, however, and she understood why he had not been able to read for his uncle.
She didn’t watch as John Rawlings’ body slid from the plank held at the rail and sank beneath the waves. Her mind was too full of another burial to take note of this one. When Max came forward and spoke to her, she jumped in surprise.
“Lady Clairbourne, we heard what you did for John. You’re a very kind and generous woman. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me and Samuel for what we did?”
Thinking Raven must have demanded that apology, Eden looked up at her husband, but he appeared to be as surprised as she by Max’s request. Max had seemed sincere in his apology the day he had spilled his bucket; now she knew that had merely been an act. “I will forgive you, but only if you promise not to judge people you do not even know so harshly in the future.”
Now believing her to be the most gracious of women, Max eagerly made that promise. Embarrassed that he had needed to do so, he hurriedly excused himself and rejoined the crowd of men on deck.
Not wanting to speak to any of the others, Eden turned toward the rail. She heard several men approach, and Raven’s insistent response that she was not be to disturbed. She didn’t understand the crew’s sudden interest in her, and was not in a mood to be friendly. When Raven put his arm around her shoulder, she needed a moment to find a smile for him.
“I think you better go below before you become chilled.”
“I’ve spent too many hours in your cabin the last few days. Please let me stay here awhile longer.”
“If you wish,” Raven reluctantly agreed, but what he truly wanted to do was take her below and make love to her until the sorrow in her eyes vanished for good. There had been plenty of times when he had gone for more than two days without having a woman, but not making love to Eden for that long was a far more horrible deprivation. A slow smile graced his lips as he began to look forward to nightfal
l.
When Raven seemed content to remain with her, Eden soon recalled the questions she had wanted to ask him. She had to move close to be heard above the wind that billowed out the sails, but she hoped Raven would give her the answers she felt she needed so badly. “What do you remember of your parents, Raven?”
Shocked by such an unexpected query, Raven had to swallow hard before he attempted to provide a believable reply. He had known sooner or later she would begin to wonder about his family, and he had promised himself that while he could not possibly reveal the truth and keep her respect, he would not tell her lies either. He leaned against the rail, and tightened his hold on her. “I can’t remember anything about them. It was Alex who raised me, you know that.”
“You don’t remember your parents at all?”
Clearly she was disappointed to hear that, but Raven had always considered himself lucky that he didn’t know anything about them since they could not possibly have been an admirable pair. “No, I don’t.”
Eden had been so certain the secret to his volatile personality had to lie in the way he had seen his parents behave, but she was not easily discouraged and just changed the focus of her questions. “What can you tell me about Alex and Eleanora then? Were they happy? Did they get along well?”
Raven was far too bright not to understand what had prompted Eden’s curiosity, but he could not think of anything particularly interesting to tell. “Yes, I think they were happy, but they were nothing like you and me. Eleanora was so sweet I don’t think I ever heard her raise her voice with anyone, and I never heard her argue about anything with Alex. Whatever he wanted to do, they did. I was only thirteen when they married, though, so I didn’t pay much attention to them.” That had been the same year he had discovered what made women such a fascinating diversion, but that was another secret he knew better than to reveal.
Eden was frustrated that her efforts to understand Raven were meeting with no success. Alex had mentioned that Raven had lacked a woman’s influence while young. Raven had told her himself that he had known very few women well, and now she understood why. She was still left with her initial problem, however, that they got along so poorly she did not think their marriage would survive.
“There’s a lovely painting of Eleanora at the plantation. When you see it, I think you’ll understand what type of woman she was.”
“I don’t care about Eleanora!” Eden snapped angrily. “She was Alex’s wife, not yours.”
Not about to get into another argument with her in front of his crew, and especially since he had not the slightest idea why she’d just lost her temper, Raven took Eden’s arm. “Let’s go below.”
Eden was not angry with him, merely exasperated that her plans to get to know her husband well had not worked. Her lip was no longer swollen, and when she tried to smile, she succeeded. “Yes, maybe we could have tea together.”