The Elusive Flame (25 page)

He seemed perplexed by her statement. “Madam? What are you saying?”

“You know very well what I’m saying,” she challenged. “I’ve been acquainted with you far too long not to recognize that devilish wit of yours. You intentionally
harassed that poor man, making him think you were jealous.…”

Beau squinted as he lifted his gaze into the shrouds above their heads. “I
am
jealous.”

His simple acknowledgment baffled Cerynise so completely that she could not find further words with which to accuse him.

“I’m jealous of any man who claims even a moment of your time when that moment is not also spent with me. I could have shown you the sextant and explained the way it works, but since we’ve left London, you’ve been avoiding me as if I carried the plague. The only way you’ll consent to come to my cabin now is if I have other guests. Indeed, madam, you protect your virtue more adroitly than any chastity belt ever could.”

His accusations brought home to her the truth of what he said. She
had
been evading him. What could she do when every enticing moment she spent with him in private drew her ever closer to his bed? “You know why I can’t chance being with you.”

Beau sighed heavily, wearied by her arguments, and looked out to sea. “A storm is brewing.”

His abrupt change of topics took Cerynise unawares, and yet she was grateful for it. It put them on safe ground again.

“How can you tell?”

Stepping near the rail, he beckoned for her to draw near and pointed toward the gray churning mass curling away from the hull. “Was the water this choppy yesterday?”

Cerynise stared at the deep ripple of foam-capped peaks and the murk beyond before she shook her head.

“What about the wind? Notice anything different since you came on deck?”

She thought about it a moment before realizing that the air was cooler. “The wind has changed direction.”

He nodded, pleased by her observation. “And may again.” Noticing her sudden concern, he gave her a lopsided smile. “No need to fear, my sweet.
Audacious
has
weathered many storms and has come through no worse for the wear of them.”

“I’ll never be able to find the horizon in bad weather,” she commented ruefully, casting a sidelong glance toward the one still in evidence.

Beau threw back his head and laughed in hearty amusement. Laying his arms about her shoulders, he drew her close and settled his chin on top of her head. “Then you’d best return to my cabin, madam, for I can promise, be it the foulest tempest to cross these waters, I can give you something to stare at and hold that will occupy your mind so completely, you’ll never even be aware of a storm passing.”

“Beau!” she chided breathlessly. She was becoming too aware of his bawdy humor to miss his insinuations. “For shame!”

He chuckled, gathering her closer to him. It had been far too long since he had been able to hold her thus. “Why? No one can hear us with this wind.”

“Perhaps not, but it doesn’t seem appropriate that you should talk to me the way you do when we might not be married in a few weeks.”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes, madam. Until then, you’re my wife, and if you won’t allow me to enjoy you like any normal husband, then you’ll have to bear my poor humor, for ’tis the only way I can take my revenge upon you.”

Feigning a pout, Cerynise started to push away, but Beau clamped his arms more tightly about her and, dropping his chin near her temple, whispered, “Stay put, or I’ll embarrass us both.”

Burying her face against his neck, Cerynise settled back against him, allowing him the protection of her skirts. She was glad that he couldn’t see her face, for the heat of it nearly stifled her. Yet she felt a strange, delicious contentment that her nearness could affect him even in the company of so many.

It was a very long moment before her husband loosened
his arms about her, but even as she moved away, his hand followed the line of her inner arm until only the tips of their fingers touched. Then, with a grin, Cerynise glanced back at him and broke away, racing toward the companionway. Beau watched her go with eyes that glowed as he acknowledged to no one but himself his growing fondness for the girl whom he had once casually befriended with a brotherly affection.

The sea began to churn and soon became a dark, angry gray. Just looking at it made Cerynise want to retch. Low, roiling clouds gathered, stealing away the sunlight, and what warmth remained was blown away by the rising wind. Spitting rain stung the face and hands, and then the night-born gloom settled in like a dark, depressing shroud.

Cerynise retreated to her cabin, ate supper from her lonely tray, and slipped into her narrow bed. Everything about the mate’s quarters had grown suddenly stale and boring, and she fought a strengthening desire to flee to the comfortable masculine quarters just down the passageway. She seriously doubted that Beau would be there; he had spent many hours on deck during the day and as yet she hadn’t heard the familiar creak of the flooring outside her door that would have indicated his return to his cabin, but if she allowed herself, she could conjure all manner of reasons and excuses for awaiting his return and then yielding herself completely to that compelling, green-eyed gaze and everything else that would follow, no doubt in short order.

Reluctantly Cerynise stayed in her virginal domain throughout the night, but with the coming of morning, it seemed her world had taken on a drastic change, for the ship had already run afoul of rough seas. A strange, yellowtinged grayness loomed above them, which made it terribly difficult for her to even look up. She hated the dull winding-sheet that lay morosely over everything within sight. Indeed, she feared it was a bad omen for what was yet to come.

“We’re gonna have a real blow, we are, mum,” Billy announced in an excited tone when he brought her breakfast tray. “Cap’n says so.”

A wavering sigh escaped her, and with a small vein of hope, she queried, “Has he ever been wrong before, Billy?”

The cabin boy looked astonished. “The cap’n?” He seemed to search his mind a moment for an answer. “Why no, mum, I can’t say as how I’ve ever known him ta be mistaken. He knows the sea like the back—”

“Of his hand,” Cerynise finished gloomily. She groaned, pushing aside the tray. She had no doubt that her fear of storms was centered primarily on her memories of the one which had taken the lives of her parents. She just hoped this one would be kinder. “I feel as if I’m going to be sick all over again.”

“Now, mum, don’t do that,” Billy pleaded anxiously. “I’ll have to tell the cap’n, an’ he’s awfully busy right now. Besides, he asked me ta bring ye up on deck if’n ye’d like, seein’ as how ye won’t be able ta come up much more before we hit the full strength of the storm.”

Cerynise mutely agreed and, wrapping a cloak snugly about her, followed the lad up. The moment she stepped on deck, she felt the wind slicing through her garments and the icy impact of it on her face. Waves crashed in quickening repetition against the craft, sending thick sprays of foaming water over the railing. The
Audacious
continually dipped into the troughs between roiling gray mountains of water and then surged upward again as more swells passed beneath the bow. Cerynise put out a hand to steady herself as the deck seemed to drop from beneath her, making her eyes widen in mingling amazement and fear. Ropes had been strung across the deck to provide handholds, and although none of the men were using them as yet, Cerynise wasn’t that confident of her ability to stand upright without aid. She firmly gripped a cord and held on for dear life as she considered the world she had
come to know. It now seemed very small, no more than a tiny speck in comparison to the immensity of the sea.

Instinctively she searched for Beau and found him talking to the quartermaster again. Both of them were looking out to sea, and their manner was calm but highly focused. Beau was garbed in a thick seaman’s sweater and wore a cap that sat rakishly upon his dark head, no doubt to keep the wind from whipping his dark mane into his eyes. There was a moment when he turned his face into a sudden gust and laughed as if he were enjoying himself immensely.

Shaking her head at the unfathomable ways in which men faced danger, Cerynise took a last look around and decided she had had enough. She now considered the relative calm of the mate’s cabin quite inviting.

The storm continued throughout the night into the following morning. Whatever light came with daybreak, it was barely detectable; there was only a thick, watery grayness that completely obscured everything, even the topmasts. Nothing was tangible beyond their small realm, and what would be left in the wake of the howling tempest remained to be seen, for it had become a demon that sought to wreak a terrible vengeance upon the vessel that had dared intrude into its midst.

It was well into the wee hours of two mornings hence when a sudden thump in the passageway snatched Cerynise awake. It was promptly followed by a muttered curse that set her heart to leaping. Flying from the bunk, she snatched open the door and leaned out to see Beau stumbling down the lurching corridor toward his quarters. He was tugging off his oilskins, which apparently hadn’t helped much, for the clothes he wore beneath them were thoroughly soaked enough to leave wet trails behind him. Even from behind, Cerynise could tell that he was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

Flinging wide his cabin door, Beau forged inward without bothering to push it closed behind him. Immediately he tossed the slicker and his cap aside and then started stripping off his sweater and the long-sleeved, finely knit
shirt he wore beneath. Cerynise followed in his wake and swept the portal shut, then hastened to a locker beyond his shaving stand. Beau glanced around long enough to realize he had company. His eyes flicked briefly over her nightgown, the same one he had seen her wearing when she had been sick. Although the soft billowing fabric clung to the ripe curves of her young body divinely, for once he had neither the strength nor the desire to become amorous.

“Y-you’d b-better get back to b-bed before you c-catch your d-death, madam,” he stuttered shiveringly, working open the fastening of his trousers with fingers that did not readily respond. They were so cold that he dreaded the pain of them being warmed again. Indeed, he couldn’t remember ever being so cold, even in Russia. “If you s-stay, you’ll be s-seeing a lot m-more than y-your virginal s-senses may be able to bear.”

“You took care of me once when I needed it,” Cerynise countered matter-of-factly as she gathered a handful of towels and a blanket from the locker. “Would it be so hard for you to let me do the same for you?” She shrugged at the notion that she would be shocked. “Besides, I’ve seen everything about you that a wife is allowed to see.”

“That’s right,” he acknowledged, peeling down the sodden trousers and the long underwear he wore beneath. He dropped to the bunk and bent forward to drag off his boots, but with an exhausted sigh, he decided differently and sprawled back upon the mattress, flinging his arms wide. Immediately Cerynise was there. Kneeling at his feet, she tugged off the footwear and then his trousers and underwear.

Beau had closed his eyes, but he promptly flung them open again as he felt his long frame being vigorously rubbed dry with linen cloths. He was mildly amazed at his young wife’s boldness in toweling not only the whole length of his body, but his private parts as well. As much as he would have rallied with eager zeal to her ministrations under different circumstances, he was too spent to muster more than a muted plea for warm soup.

“I’ll get Billy up and send him to the galley to heat you some as soon as I get you under the covers,” Cerynise murmured, pulling the feather tick and top sheet from under him. In a moment she was tucking the bedclothes up over his shoulders as he huddled on his side. She slipped into the same elegant gentleman’s robe which she had found in the familiar locker and tied it about her. Then she left to find Billy and give him instructions.

In a few moments she was back and made haste to turn down the lanterns that had been lit in anticipation of the captain’s return to his cabin. She was aware of Beau’s bleary-eyed gaze following her movements about the room, but other than that, he was as still as death. When the soup was brought, she propped the pillows behind his head to brace him up. Greatly surprised that he would allow her, she began to feed him, but his fatigue was acute and his eyelids sagged closed repeatedly between spoonfuls.

Making the decision to stay in his cabin, Cerynise spread a blanket out beside his bunk, but at a muted grunt from Beau, she glanced up and saw him trying to drag the covers down behind him.

“Join me,” he pleaded in a low murmur and, with a heavy sigh, slowly closed his eyes again.

The hard floor hadn’t been very inviting anyway, Cerynise reasoned as she crawled over her husband and settled into the warm, narrow space between him and the wall. Facing his back, she tucked her knees beneath his and slipped an arm around him. Her hand found its way to his chest, and briefly her fingers stroked across the furred expanse and a male nipple before his hand came up to enfold hers within his grasp.

In the very next moment his slow, heavy breathing made Cerynise realize that he had fallen asleep. With a smile she brushed her nose against his stalwart back, and then, snuggling even closer, found a comfortable place for her cheek to rest.

Far too soon, Beau roused himself from the cozy haven
of his bunk and the soft form sleeping within it and returned to the battle raging overhead. The crew worked in six-hour shifts, but he worked continually, driving himself far beyond the limits of endurance. He spent little time in his cabin, but when he did, Cerynise was immediately there, helping him strip away his wet clothes and nurturing him in a myriad of different ways that Beau hadn’t even deemed possible. He felt a sharp sense of disappointment that he was too exhausted to even enjoy the awareness of her soft body pressing warmly against his for the few moments he was able to snatch some sleep.

At last, the storm spent its fury, and the
Audacious
glided into a calmer sea. A full complement of sails were unfurled to catch the now beneficent wind, and once again they began to make good time. The quiet relief of the men was evidenced by their frequent smiles and their energetic eagerness to get on with the business of sailing.