“Miss Morgan?” a tentative voice said behind her.
Startled out of her thoughts, Heather spun around.
Her pulse fluttered, and a smile stole over her lips. “Percy!”
CHAPTER 5
Pulse fluttering madly in his chest, Percy stepped tentatively closer.Christ, but seeing Heather so soon after… It was as though he was seeing her with new eyes. Her hair glowed copper in the sunlight, her eyes glittered green, and her cheeks were flushed from the sun. She was a vision. He now knew what her full lips felt like beneath his, how soft her skin was to his touch, and how damnedgoodshe tasted… His body hummed at her nearness.
“It’s good to see you,” she said breathily, taking in his bared feet and calves, his slops, his ill-fitting blue coat, and his loosened cravat.
He knew how he appeared. Not only could he not don his customary ocean-faring attire, but he was now a man in service to the Crown and would wear what his superiors deemed fit. He mustn’t cause a disturbance. If he drew undue attention and they discovered the truth of who he was, they would likely have him keelhauled.
He cleared his throat. “I observed your disagreement on the docks. Was Cordelia unable to come aboard, or is she to sail upon the frigate that follows?”
Heather’s gaze turned stormy, and she gave a sideways glance to ensure they were unheard. “The earl barred her admittance on board entirely. It is just us two continuing the assignment.”
Pulse tripping again, he nodded once. “We must work quickly to find what you require.”
“Tonight?”
A shout came from behind him, and Percy straightened. “Aye!” He smiled apologetically at Heather. “I must go, but I’m off duty at dusk. Would you, perhaps, wish to play a game of cards?” He lifted an eyebrow in suggestion.
“I would be delighted,” she returned with a quirk of her lips.
With a tug of his forelock, he turned and found his post at the base of the mizzen-mast, gathering the ropes in his hand. He turned his gaze upward toward the topmen who worked aloft, matching his movements to theirs. The motions came naturally to Percy, having done the job for years before captaining his own ship. Before then, he’d shared the role of topman, and then captain of the top, before he grew too large for the job.
Navigating the masts, rigging, and the watch from aloft required intelligence, agility, and strength. One mislaid line in the middle of a chase, high winds, or a battle could result in the loss of the entire crew.
On theSapphire, Percy worked on deck, handling the lines and controlling the sails. It wasn’t an ideal job while he was attempting to aid Heather in uncovering the earl’s treachery, but he could certainly help while off duty.
His gaze drifted back toward her, where she stood at the rail and watched her homeland become but a blemish on the horizon.Christ, but he ought to have confessed thathewas the man she’d?—
But he hadn’t the faintest notion of how to tell her. He’d thought about it for most of the morning while completingmenial tasks, but he couldn’t devise a single method of telling her that wouldn’t see him slapped or spurned. The woman deserved to know, blast it. He detested the thought, however, that she might believe he’d deliberately sought her out to relieve her of her maidenhead.
Indeed, she had to know—particularly if their encounter resulted in her getting with child. A shiver raced down his spine. The thought of becoming a father was terrifying, but he would stand by his morals. Whether or not she was pregnant, Heather would have him by her side.
The orange glowof the sun gently faded into dusk, forcing Heather to squint at the pages of her book. She’d been able to bring only a select few volumes on the journey, and this was one of her favourite books on horticulture. Leaning closer to the page, she ignored the ache in her back and the numbness of her bottom as she sat upon the hard planks of the quarterdeck.
A shadow approached, blocking her view of the book and looming over her.
“The evening meal’s been served, miss,” Berta said softly. “The earl requests your presence in the wardroom.”
Heather’s lips firmed into a grim line. “Thank you, Berta.”
The maid dipped in a curtsey and departed, hurrying down the companionway leading to the gun deck.
Heather sighed, wisps of her hair catching in the warm wind and tickling her cheeks. The wind had, indeed, been a relief from the heat of the sun, though she imagined that it would be no protection against her tendency to freckle.
Despite her optimistic intentions, she hadn’t the opportunity to search her fiancé’s belongings that afternoon. The man hadkept close to his quarters, apparently barking orders at his valet and footmen.
With a subtle stretch, Heather rose to her feet. The frigate rocked, and she caught her footing, tucked her book beneath one arm, and descended both companionways leading to the mess deck. The scent of citrus and beef hit her first, and her mouth watered. Then she smelled the freshly baked rolls, and her stomach rumbled with interest.
Hastening her steps, she tossed the book on her hanging bed and made her way into the wardroom. There, a long dining table covered with gleaming plates, silverware, and two candelabras was surrounded by men in blue, cream, and gold naval uniforms. That was, of course, with the exception of the Earl of Shite, who still wore his green suit of clothes with a cream waistcoat and silver trim.
“You’re late,” the earl announced, his yellowed teeth showing behind a curled lip.
“My apologies,” she mumbled, curtseying.
