Boom!Thunder cracked overhead.
They reached the companionway, and Percy released Heather to let her descend first. Faint light emanated from the one opened door at the end of the short corridor, and for a moment, Heather hesitated.
What had she been about to say?
Worry gnawed at Percy’s stomach. She’d evidently been injured in some way.
The frigate pitched perilously sideways, and he clapped a hand to the wall to steady them both, drawing them nearer to the glowing lantern light.
“The surgeon’s room is just there,” Percy murmured. He gestured toward the doorway, his fingers trembling with nerves.
Heather gripped Percy’s arm again, in an effort to maintain her footing, and they took the few steps into the surgeon’s room.
Inside, a lantern swung wildly with theSapphire’s motion, and the surgeon stood over a short box of corked bottles. The man was lean and bespectacled, with a full red beard, and he smiled at them upon their entrance.
“Ah! Ye’ve need o’ me, aye?” The man’s thick Scottish brogue rumbled in the small space, and Heather returned his smile.
Fucking hell. The side of her face was entirely covered in blood. It coated her hair and streaked her pale face.
“Good god, Heather! What happened?” he burst out.
She gave Percy a sidelong glance, but spoke to the surgeon. “Yes, sir. I have. I fell from bed and hit my head on the chest of drawers.”
“Ach, aye. Come ’ere, then, lass.” He gestured to a low cushioned bench along one side of the room, and she sat. “Tha’ is a mighty bump.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Name’s Duncan.” He smiled again.
“I’m Heather Morgan.”
Her gaze drifted past the surgeon toward where Percy hovered in the doorway. She looked as though she’d been through a battle, for Christ’s sake. Her face, neck, and hands were entirely covered in crimson. But beneath it, she was pale.
“I didn’t realize how much blood she’d lost,” Percy said. “Will she be well, Duncan?”
“Ach, aye; ’ead wounds always bleed more ’n they should.”
He wet a cloth from a pitcher and carefully removed the blood that covered her. With soft words of comfort, the man cleaned the area, prepared his needle, and stitched the small wound on her head.
The frigate continued to rock and tilt, the storm tossing them about like a twig among rapids, the lantern swinging and the bottles on the surrounding shelves clinking as they hit the shelf rail. And yet Percy’s attention was narrowed entirely onher.
“Have you anything for seasickness?” she asked softly.
“If I ’ad th’ right herbs, I’d be able t’ treat yer seasickness, but I’m nae an apothecary any longer, an’ these men donnae get seasick, so I havenae wha’s required.” He clucked his tongue. “But I’ll see ye patched up.”
Interest brightened her gaze. “You were an apothecary?” she asked. “I confess, I’ve always been interested in the practice. Back home, I’d begun to collect plants based on their uses in apothecary, with the hopes of taking on the role in—” She shook her head slightly, cutting herself off. “What herbs do you require? I wasn’t able to bring all of my plants aboard with me, but I do have several that might help.”
“’Tis a noble endeavour, indeed.” The man grinned at Heather, his red beard bunching. “I ’ave a small ’mount o’ olive oil an’ beeswax fer a salve, but I havenae any fennel seed or catnip.”
Heather pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I haveNepeta catariain the hold, but I haven’t anyFoeniculum vulgareseed. Does the plant require drying?”
Duncan’s reply faded behind the rushing in Percy’s ears.Seasickness?Oh, hell.He didn’t know enough about pregnancy to know how soon a woman might feel ill after sex.
A cold sweat formed behind his knees and down his back.
His gaze sharpened on her as she spoke eagerly and animatedly with Duncan, and, despite himself, Percy felt a pang of longing in his chest alongside his trepidation. He wanted more of Heather’s discussion, wanted the fiery passion in her gaze to be directed athim.
Her full, rosy mouth curved upward, and he remembered tasting those petal-soft lips. She’d been sodding delicious.And look where it’s gotten you, his mind whispered.
