“I have to wrap you again,” he protested although he wanted nothing more than to go.
“No,” she said forcefully. “I don’t need bandages. I need fresh air. Tomorrow I will have to get out of this bed. Just leave me for now, Mr. Landis.”
Landis thought better of arguing with her. He took away the strips of cloth and removed the basin of water by her side, then he left her alone.
Alexis watched the door shut behind him. When she heard him walk down the companionway she sat up and was pleased to discover the move was not as painful as her earlier attempt had been. In another day or so, she thought, she would be ready to leave. She had to get away. She realized she had been hasty in dismissing Landis. She still did not know where she was, or how long she had been away from Tortola.
The anniversary. Why had he mentioned it? How had he known? Alexis brought her legs over the side of the bunk and rested her elbows on her knees, cradling her head in her hands. She vowed no one would ever see the invisible wounds she had acquired from the loss of the people she loved. She could only share that pain with someone she loved, and that was something she would never allow herself to do again.
It had been easy to dismiss London and her childhood. Humorlessly, she laughed, wondering if she had ever really been a child. She had left nothing behind when she’d boarded theConstellation.Then Pauley had changed that. He had understood her, respected her, and that had made her love him. When he’d left she had known a bitter ache that had only been relieved by the promise of his return. George and Francine were different and she’d loved them differently. They had always wanted what was best for her. She’d known she loved them the moment they had realized that she knew what was best for herself.
She would never see them again. Oh God, how it hurt. She had meant what she said when she had made her oaths on the cliff. Travers would pay for what he had done. She would live to avenge their deaths.
Alexis sat up, straightening her spine. There was nothing more to be gained by reflection now. The future. She had to look ahead the way she always had. Quinton Shipping would have to wait. Whatever Travers had destroyed could be rebuilt later. George had taught her well. Now she had to get off this ship and back to Roadtown. She would raise a crew and take whatever had been left behind and start her search. The future. Every moment Captain Cloud kept her from the island was wasted time. In the morning she would talk to him and explain what she wanted to do, and then he would take her back. Landis said he was a good man; she believed he was. Cloud had apparently tried to stop Travers and he had certainly saved her. She would thank him, then tell him he simply had to take her back. He would listen to reason.
She lay back on the bunk, covering herself, and buried her head in the pillow. Sleep followed quickly.
Cloud opened the door quietly. When he saw she was sleeping he moved as quietly as he could so as not to wake her. Landis told him she was distraught over something he had said and Cloud was too tired now to deal with her anger.
He took blankets and an extra pillow from the chest. He had decided to sleep in the adjacent cabin now that she was out of danger. He stopped moving when she stirred in her sleep.
She kicked at the sheet covering her body until it slid to the deck. Her chemise had ridden up to her thighs and the moonlight provided him with a view of her long, firm calves. She moved again, turning her head slightly. Her slim fingers brushed at the golden strands of hair covering her face. Her lips parted as she took a breath and expelled the air in a sigh. Cloud wanted to capture that sigh. It was the most comforting, soothing sound he had ever heard. He wanted to protect her and never let her feel anything but what she felt at that moment. He would have to make her understand that she could not go back to the island. Roadtown would be torture for her after what had happened and he couldn’t allow her to punish herself like that. He would not let her go. She must listen to reason.
He replaced the sheet and hurried out of the room. His own breath was ragged, but not from exertion. His body cried out to be touched by her. Not yet, he thought. Not so soon. He wanted this woman, but he knew he would wait. He would wait until she wanted him as well.
Alexis awoke to the sound of light tapping on the door of her cabin. She rubbed her eyes and got out of bed. “Just one minute,” she called to the man behind the barrier. She found a fresh chemise to replace the one she had stained with her blood and slipped it on. She located other undergarments and put them on also. A dress was another matter, she realized. She needed something more loose fitting for her back. She found one of the captain’s shirts. Not caring if he minded, she put her arms into the long sleeves and buttoned it. The cuffs came to her fingertips and the hem of the shirt covered her hips. She looked down at herself and laughed at her appearance. Her feet were bare and her petticoat did not reach her calves. It was an old one but then she could not have expected whoever brought it along to know that. She sat back down on the bunk, her feet curled under her, and told the person who’d knocked to come in.
She smiled when she saw Landis. “I thought it was you,” she said. She noticed the tray he was carrying. ’“What do you have there?”
“Your breakfast,” he answered, placing the tray on the table. “The captain thought you might be getting your appetite back. You wouldn’t eat much while you were sick.”
“Captain Cloud is very thoughtful, Mr. Landis. Will I be able to talk to him soon?”
“Just John, please. We’re not that formal here. At least not privately. You’ll be able to see the captain as soon as you want.”
Alexis got off the bunk and sat at the table. She stared at the fresh fruit and realized for the first time how hungry she really was. “This looks very good, John. Will you please ask the captain to join me if he can be spared? I am anxious to talk to him and although I am ravenous, there is much more here than I can possibly eat.”
“Of course. But who shall I say you are? You never told me your name.”
Alexis sliced the orange in front of her and brought a section to her lips. Before she put it in her mouth she looked up at the officer, the merest smile forming on her lips. “Please tell Captain Cloud that Alex Danty would like to see him.” She chewed on the juicy section of orange while she watched Landis chew on that information. Quinton was a name that belonged to her life in the crow’s nest. It was the Danty name that had gotten her to Tortola and the Danty name would return her to it. It was the misnomer that had carried her from London, and now it would take her to Travers. “I’ll explain everything to Captain Cloud,” she said when Landis only stood there, pulling at his beard.
He nodded thoughtfully and left the room. Alexis ate slowly, savoring the taste of everything on her plate, setting some aside for the captain. She was wiping her mouth when she heard the door open.
Cloud shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “John said you wanted to see me.”
“I didn’t command it,” she said. “You make it sound as if I had.”
Cloud did not comment. Should he tell her that even her requests had an edge of authority according to Landis? He had been warned what to expect from her. “You probably have questions just as I do,” he said after a brief pause.
Alexis tried to dismiss his physical appearance from her mind. She remembered she had thought him attractive last night, but now, in the light of day, he was striking. He belonged on this ship. His features were distinctive and well formed. She could imagine him cutting through the waves with the same ease as the vessel he commanded. There was pride and a subtle hauteur in his stride as he walked over to the chair at her side. She shut her eyes a moment, not wanting to stare at him and perhaps frighten him away as Francine insisted she always had. She opened them suddenly when she realized this was the man who would not be put off by her looks. She was glad. She had found someone she could respect. He would take her back.
“I do have some questions, Captain Cloud,” she said when he was seated comfortably across the table from her. “Who shall go first? It is your ship.”
“Then I will,” he replied, slicing an orange Alexis left for him. “Your name, first of all. We were under the impression, because you were on the hill, that you must be George Quinton’s daughter. Now it appears you are not.”
“I was George and Francine’s daughter in every way but one, Captain. I am not their blood. I lived with the Quinton’s for six years, from the time I was thirteen. They were very dear to me.”
Cloud could not help staring at her as she spoke. Her voice had no inflection in it and her eyes were expressionless. She might as well have been talking about the weather instead of the people she thought of as her parents. He did not want a hysterical female on his hands, but neither was he prepared for her total lack of emotion after all she had been through. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he asked his next question.
