She looked at the wall, expecting to see splintered wood. There was no sign of her assault except her own splintered flesh. A mirror of her life. The door suddenly opened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
TheSprintermade good time along the estuary of the River Severn, greeted by parting clouds, blue skies, and a stiff breeze. From the captain's cabin, Julian watched the rugged cliffs and verdant hills of southern Wales pass by. The gray waters were churned to white in the wake of the ship as it cut its way out to sea. A tray of tea and a plate of sandwiches had just been placed upon the table by Harper.
“Will I extend an invitation to the Fairchild's, Your Grace?” he asked.
“No. I do not wish to cause them the embarrassment of refusing. Lord Percival will not wish his family to be in my company.”
Harper tilted his head slightly, his gaze thoughtful. “Time heals all, as they say.”
“Do they now,” Julian scoffed, turning from the window with a dark smile. “Thentheyare damned fools. Time will not tear down the barrier that stands between Ester and myself. A man died by my hand right in front of Lady Janet, Harper. That will not be forgotten.”
“I understand that while you have the Captain's cabin, the Fairchild's have been assigned that of the First Mate. It is towards the aft of the ship while we are at the stern,” Harper commented.
Julian looked at him. “You are very perceptive, Harper. I was already aware of that. Ester is attending to them at the moment.”
“What will it take to win Lord Percival over, do you suppose?” Harper put in.
“Nothing short of a miracle. That will be all, Harper,” Julian finished.
Harper gave his customary bow and turned toward the door, but then paused just before reaching it. He turned back, his face as unreadable as ever. “Ah. Miss Helen has been complaining of a touch of sea sickness. Fortunately, I have a powder that is known to settle the stomach in such conditions. Is Your Grace feeling quite at ease with the motion of the ship?”
Julian, lost in thought, shook his head slightly as if surfacing from a distant reverie. “And where did you come by this medicine?” he asked absently.
“I served an apprenticeship in my youth as an apothecary,” Harper replied, his tone mild but with a hint of pride.
“You are a man of many parts, Harper. I am glad to have found you. Are you sure the position of manservant to a recluse does not chafe?”
“Not at all, Your Grace. I will take my leave now and be sure to not see Miss Ester if she passes me.”
Julian’s smile lingered as Harper quietly slipped from the cabin, closing the door behind him with barely a sound. The man was a rare find indeed.
His eyes fell on the water and the evidence of their swift passage. The ship was beginning to turn around a headland which he supposed must be St David's, at the very south-western tip of Wales. They would catch the south-westerly wind now. Already he could hear the crack of sails as they bellied full of the gusting air. Julian shifted his stance against the motion of the deck beneath his feet. He stood with gloved hands behind his back. There was a tension in him that he could not shake. It was born out of Ester's absence and matured under the fact that he could not touch her.
His hands tightened within their leather prisons. The material creaked under the pressure. He wanted to take them off and cast them into the water but could not. Would not. Not ever. Not now. Not after the first conclusive proof as an adult of the curse's continued virility. It could kill in moments. Julian found himself thinking of his father. That emaciated, pale, white-haired wizard. Terrified of sunlight, living in perpetual darkness. Surrounded by piles of dusty, moldering books and manuscripts.
“What sin did I commit to be cursed so?” he whispered to that cruel-eyed memory.
“You stole from me, took away my true love. My wife. Your mother,”croaked the reply.
“And then the son you truly loved,” Julian whispered. “Was I so wicked in your eyes that there was no place for me in your heart?”
There was no reply from the specter of his father. But there was a gentle tap on the door. Julian turned as it opened and Ester peeked her head in. She smiled somberly as she saw that he was alone and slipped inside, closing the door gently behind her.
“Helen knows where I am, and she has been sworn to secrecy,” she whispered conspiratorially. “She thinks it romantic.”
“Harper, too, is a conspirator,” Julian replied, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “He will have seen you at the other end of the ship if asked.”
The phantom that had occupied his thoughts vanished. The sun shone in through the windows a little stronger, it seemed. Brighter and warmer. Outside, the cawing of seagulls and the unending hushed roar of masses of gently swaying water accompanied the thump and creak of the ship.
Ester began to cross the room and the deck tilted. She staggered, trying to hold her balance. Julian went to her instinctively but was caught by a shift in the other direction. They reached for and found each other before the ship tipped them together towards one side of the room. The edge of the bedframe struck the back of Julian's legs and he fell down hard on the thin mattress. The boards beneath creaked in protest at his weight. Ester fell into his lap. She was laughing at their staggering, burying her face in his neck. The laughter faded as her mouth touched his skin, lips parting to draw in a small circle of it, tongue tasting.
Julian wore short sleeves and breeches. The laces of his shirt were undone, as he had only just changed into the garment after discarding the shirt that had become wet from the rain. Ester stroked the hairs on his chest, tentatively feeling the flat, unyielding muscle covering his breastbone.
“What produced such a man as you?” she whispered. “I have never known such a Hercules.”
“I grew up on a farm owned by my father's physician and my brother’s close friend, Doctor Hakesmere. He was also a fellow esoteric, though he treated it as a curiosity instead of a religion as my father did. When my father cast me out, Doctor Hakesmere took me in and I grew up on his farm in the hills above Penrith. I worked alongside the farm hands, as did his sons. Lugging hay bales and chasing chickens and pigs will add muscle to a man as well as any blacksmith work.”
