Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

"You young folk haven't been married long, have you?"

"No, not long at all." And we will unmarry as soon as we reach St. Thomas.

"Why don't we get your husband out of his clothes? He would be more comfortable, I wager. Ah, here's Rollo to clear away his things."

"Thank you," Diana said to the first mate as she watched him neatly pile his clothes for removal from the cabin.

"No problem at all, my lady," said Rollo. "I'll be nice and snug with Neddie."

She turned to see Blick easing Lyon out of his coat. Oh, dear, she thought, consternation flowing through her, the consequences of a grand lie. She heard her own voice say, perfectly calmly, "Yes, he will be more comfortable. Let me help you."

She assisted the doctor with Lyon's coat and shirt. She found herself staring down at his chest. A very manly chest, she thought, and she wanted to giggle, for that description was from one of her romantic novels. When Blick began unfastening his trousers, her courage evaporated. "I feel a bit faint. Do you mind if I sit down?"

"No, of cou

rse not," said Blick, not looking at her.

Once Lyon was undressed and under a sheet, Blick straightened. "There, we can find him a nightshirt in the morning when he feels more the thing. Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, certainly," Diana said, eyeing Lyonel's clothing, neatly folded at the end of the bed, then the length of his body under that single blasted sheet.

"Well, you just relax, my lady ---"

"Diana, please."

"Very well, Diana. Try to rest, all right? I've moved your husband over just a bit so there is room for you if you wish to lie down."

She nodded, not up to more words. Blick picked up a pile of Rollo's belongings, and the two men took their leave. She was left staring at Lyon's uncovered chest and pale face. His chest was very nice, very solid, covered with dark-brown hair, a bit darker than the hair on his head.

You have certainly done it this time, my girl.

Lyonel moaned a bit, and she sat down beside him. His eyes opened, and he stared at her for a very long time.

"You are all right," she said, gently touching her fingertips to his shoulder. He felt very warm. "You must rest."

She didn't know if he had understood her or not. He closed his eyes again. She gently placed her palm over his heart. The slow, steady beat reassured her.

"Smooth weather, Rollo. Take the wheel, I shall see to our patient."

"Aye, Capt'n," said Rollo, his keen eyes on the endless horizon.

Rafael loved the early morning, the usual silence filled with the activity of his men, the sounds of sea birds squawking overhead, the stiff channel breeze on his face. He made his way to Rollo's erstwhile cabin and quietly tapped on the closed door.

Diana opened it.

"How is your husband, Diana?"

"Blick says that he will drift in and out of consciousness perhaps for several more hours. He seemed to rest comfortably last night."

"And you didn't," Rafael said.

"No, I suppose not. This is all very worrying, you know." He didn't know the half of it, she thought, moving aside so he could enter. He was a large man, of Lyonel's size, broad shoulders, and a handsome face saved from beauty by a stubborn chin and a nose that was just slightly off center. His hair was glossy black and tousled by the wind. His eyes were startling, a pure midnight blue, fanned by thick black lashes that any woman would envy. She prayed he was as sensible and kind a man as he appeared to be. He moved to Lyonel's bunk with silent grace, and Diana wondered if he realized he was the physical epitome of the swashbuckling captains she loved reading about who sailed the West Indies in the last century. She grinned at the thought, wondering if she should swoon like the bleating heroines in the derring-do legends.

Rafael laid the flat of his hand on Lyon's forehead. Cool to the touch. Suddenly, Lyon shouted, "Diana!" and lurched up.

Rafael grasped his bare shoulders and pressed him down. "Easy now, my lord. She is here and you both are quite safe."

"Diana, you little twit, I am going to thrash you!"