They made their way to the back of the ship and entered a large cabin that had windows across the width of it. It was divided into two main areas—one clearly for sleeping and the other for working and eating. Iain left her holding onto the back of a chair placed at the side of a square table as he went back outside to speak to someone.
The bed, for she could not help but stare at it, was larger than she expected within the tighter confines of a ship. Pillows and cushions strewn across it promised comfort and its placement in the cabin gave anyone in it a view out the four large windows looking out from the back of the ship. The table and desk, along with the privacy screen and storage chest were unremarkable and functional, but the other fixtures and furnishings were interesting.
Especially the shelves and shelves of books that lined one whole wall.
Designed to hold the books in place against the ship’s movements, the shelves were packed tightly and each one had a rope strung across it that kept the books from falling. Once she felt in control and balanced, Clare walked along the shelves and read some of the titles. Although many, all collected on one shelf, dealt with ships and sailing and maps, the others were a mix of novels, mysteries, poetry, histories, and such.
“See any you like?” Iain asked, as he closed the door and walked behind her.
“The captain has quite an eclectic taste in reading materials,” she murmured as she slid her finger across each book as she read the titles to herself.
“Aye, he does.”
She heard the humor in his voice and turned to face him. His blue gaze twinkled, and that damned corner of his mouth lifted just enough that she almost swooned knowing what his wicked smile looked like. And how his mouth felt on her.
“This is your cabin? You are the captain?” He nodded. “And Captain Ramsey?”
“Captain Ramsey takes the command most of the time, but aye, I am the owner and captain when I take the ship out.”
“You did seem to know so much about the workings of a ship. Is that how you started in the company? As captain.”
He took her hand and led her to the windows. The bottom ledge of the windows had been fashioned into a long bench and covered by a cushion, making it a lovely place to sit and observe the sea. She did and untied the ribbons holding—almost—her bonnet in place. The winds were getting the better of it, so she removed it.
“I started as a worker on the docks and in the warehouses and progressed up until I was a sailor on Mr. Buchanan’s ships. Eventually, I captained a ship.” His explanation fit what Chalmers had reported to her. He was adopted by Mr. Ulysses Buchanan at some time before he turned twenty and became the wealthy man’s only heir.
“And now you own the entire enterprise,” she finished. “And still captain your ships?” He sat next to her.
“Nay, I work too much to do it.”
“I am impressed, Sir Iain,” she said, reverting to his title. “Not many business owners of your renown know enough about their companies to run them, let alone participate in them.”
“Those of us who built them do. But those who inherit... Forgive me, my lady, I mean no insult.”
“None taken. I am a bit of both, I think. And a bit different as well. I did inherit, but I work now with a number of the companies I inherited and did before...” She smiled at him. “And unlike those properties that are entailed and follow the title, mine do not—”
“Unless you marry.”
“Hence my resistance to that institution.”
“I understand. Remember, I am helping your efforts to stay out of that trap.”
The envelope. The payment for his services.
She shivered as the recollection of his voice claiming her as the price echoed in her thoughts. His gaze was a knowing one—he knew she was remembering what they’d done.
Pleasurable things.
Impolite things.
Unspeakable things.
Immobilized at the rush of heat inside her, Clare could only stare at his mouth, wanting it on her breasts. The knock on the cabin door prevented her from doing something foolish, like begging him to take her here, now.
Captain Ramsey entered and directed a few men as they brought in platters of food and pitchers. Once everything was in place, he invited them to the table.
Clare laughed so much during their meal that tears fell. Ramsey and Iain were longtime friends from all that was said, and they discussed, argued, bantered, jested back and forth for the next hour... or two. The food was well-cooked, deliciously seasoned and filling. When invited to join them in a glass of port at the end of the meal, she did, feeling no shame about drinking with the two men.
After that, Clare accompanied the captain back up on deck and waited for Iain to arrive. The one who climbed the steps to the deck and stood before her was a different Iain, almost as though he had become someone else. He’d removed his coat, waistcoat and neckcloth before leaving the cabin and even changed into different shoes—well-worn flat leather ones. His trousers were exchanged for canvas breeches, tied at the knee, and instead of his fine lawn shirt, he wore a lesser quality cambric one.
