As far as their humble quarters, Juliet took in the space that was sumptuous by any standard, ignoring the pain in her head and her terrible thirst. Another crew member entered with a tray of beverages, including hot tea. She and Loveday sat down while Leith stayed standing, talking in low tones with the captain near the open door.
“Well,” Loveday whispered, “I hadn’t expected a Viking vessel, but this is fitted out like a modern palace.”
“You don’t recall much about our voyage home from school in England, as you were so ill.”
With a shudder, Loveday brought the fine porcelain cup to her lips. “That was years ago, and our quarters were much humbler. I pray this voyage is smoother even if it’s the middle of winter. I do wonder why this ship is still in port.”
“All the details will be revealed to us in time, on both sides.” Juliet knew Leith had as many questions as he had answers. “We seem to have lived a lifetime in just one night.”
Too tired to talk, they lapsed into a grateful silence, finishing their tea near the stern windows just as the ship’s chaplain appeared. With Loveday and the captain as witnesses, the marital knot was soon tied, Leith’s signet ring on Juliet’s right hand, and their signatures inked on some sort of paperwork that she hoped was legal. Once and for all she put her vision of marrying at Royal Vale to rest, burying it beneath a wave of wonder that she stood here beside the tobacco lord she’d once loathed.
As for her groom, Leith looked a bit thinner than she remembered—his coloring noticeably less robust. Illness had carved a concerning line across his brow. But she was no better, clad in disheveled black, lightheaded and still out of breath at all that had happened.
A celebratory toast ensued, and then Loveday scurried to her cabin to set Hobbes free while Leith excused himself so that Juliet could ready herself for bed. Allowed some privacy, she drank in her surroundings like a second cup of tea, admiration overtaking weariness.
Paneled in mahogany, the room was dominated by a desk. Behind the desk was a treasure trove of books in glass-fronted cases, so many tomes it resembled a bookseller’s. All the furnishings seemed to be lashed down with brass loops—including two elegant walnut armchairs with cabriole legs—giving her a premonition of gales to come. The carpet beneath her feet was a lovely, lush blue, akin to the delft stove tiles. Further proof of her new husband’s favorite color.
Forward of the great cabin was Leith’s sleeping cabin. It boasted a bed as well as a hammock suspended from the ceiling. Through yet another connecting door was a dining room, which led to the quarterdeck where they’d come aboard. A washstand near twin bureaus held a much-needed porcelain pitcher of warm water, a basin, French soap, and linen towels. Most astonishing of all was the flushing lavatory in the near gallery.
Juliet began donning her nightclothes and braiding her unpinned hair, trying to put down her trepidation. Would Leith honor what he’d told her originally? Would this be a marriage in name only?
A single candle atop a bureau burned brightly. Wanting to say good night to Loveday, Juliet backtracked to the quartergallery and opened the door to her sister’s room. Fast asleep. Hobbes curled atop the coverlet at her feet.
Juliet returned to her own bed, climbed between linen sheets redolent of lavender, laid her head upon the pillow, and listened for a particular footfall.
Leith.
Would they hold to formality or exchange forenames as easily as they’d exchanged vows half an hour before?
It took a different kind of courage for Leith to return to his cabin. Had he given his new bride enough time? Standing outside the door, he grappled with what they’d just done. He still didn’t ken what had transpired to have her arrive in the middle of the night, and they were both too worn to discuss it. Several weeks aboard ship would see it all unraveled—and, he hoped, with few regrets.
After a light tap at the door, Leith opened it a crack. The sole candle, almost guttered now, cast light on a slight rise beneath the coverlet of what was, to his mind, a very small bed. Was she asleep? He snuffed the candle, undressed, and washed at the basin, noting she’d been there before him. Clad in a clean nightshirt, he took a last look out the bank of windows.
Weary and unwell as he was, he still willed himself not to cough and wake her. Whisky, lemon, and honey lingered on his tongue from the celebratory toddy he’d just drunk in the captain’s cabin. It stole through him now as he lay down in the linen hammock like a common jack would do. Though he was hardly right beside her, he was close enough to catch a trace of her herbal scent and hear her faint, rhythmic breathing as she lay turned toward him.
31
There is no more lovely, friendly, and charming relationship, communion or company than a good marriage.
Martin Luther
When Juliet awoke, it wasn’t to the twinkling midnight lights of York Town but infinite blue. Dawn had long departed, flinging them into the Atlantic, where the rising sun turned the sea to sapphire. How had she slept through their weighing anchor? She wasn’t the only one. Pushing herself up on one elbow, she looked at Leith, clad in nightclothes and in the curve of a hammock. Wonder crowded out any regret. Sleep eased the lines about his eyes and brow and turned him years younger.
She lay back again, staring up at the canopied bedstead, her heart beating as hard as it had the night before when she’d come to the harbor, certain he’d already sailed. Her pulse doubled when his low voice rolled with a rumble across the cabin.
“What brought you to the ship last night?”
She shut her eyes briefly, trying to come to terms with whatshe’d done and where to start. “I had a, um, fracas with one of my father’s overseers at Royal Vale, necessitating my leaving. Loveday and I took a coach to the Ravenal townhouse and found you were no longer there—”
“Back up—a fracas?”
She swallowed. “We were helping a family of escaped slaves to freedom when Riggs—one of Royal Vale’s overseers—intervened. He used a whip on one of them, so I unseated him from his horse and gave him the same.”
“You horsewhipped him?”
Had she? She’d merely acted out of a long-standing rage and revulsion. “’Tis hardly a blessed start to our union, I confess.” Was he expecting something more romantic? “As for Riggs, I struck him but once, then left on his horse.”
“After which you came to York Town.”
