“What…kind…of sick?”
Worse and worse. He wanted details. Did he believe her, or was he hoping to prove she was just being spiteful so he could feel justified in clobbering her? And if she tried to pass it off as nothing now, he really would think she’d only been trying to get back at him, but was now regretting it.
She was indeed regretting opening her big mouth, but as long as she’d gone this far, she’d better stick with the truth.
But she braced herself before saying, “I’m sorry, Captain, but the closest comparison I can think of is nausea.”
“Have you actually—?”
“No! It’s just this real funny queasiness I feel, and shortness of breath, and I get so warm, well…actually hot, but I’m almost positive it’s not fever. And this weakness comes over me, like my strength is just draining away.”
James just stared, unable to believe what he was hearing. Didn’t the wench know what she was describing? She couldn’t be that innocent. And then it hit him, where it hurt the most, and he felt every one of her symptoms himself.She wanted him. His unorthodox seduction had worked and he hadn’t even known it. And he hadn’t known it becauseshedidn’t know it. Bloody hell. Ignorance was supposedly bliss, but in this case hers had caused him pure hell.
He had to rethink his strategy. If she didn’t know what she was feeling, then she wouldn’t be attacking him and begging him to take her, would she? So much for that splendid fantasy. But he still wanted her confession first. It would give him the upper hand in dealing with her if she didn’t know he’d seen through her disguise.
“These symptoms, are they terribly unpleasant?” he asked carefully.
Georgina frowned. Unpleasant? They were frightening because she’d never experienced anything like it before, but unpleasant?
“Not terribly,” she admitted.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it any longer, George. I’ve heard of this problem before.”
She blinked in surprise. “You have?”
“Most definitely. I also know the cure.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. So you may go on to bed, dear boy, and leave the matter to me. I’ll take care of it…personally. You may depend upon it.”
His grin was so wicked, she had the feeling he was funning with her. Maybe he hadn’t believed her after all.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Are you asleep yet, George?”
She ought to be. She’d turned in more than an hour ago. But she was still wide awake. And she didn’t have the captain’s nakedness to blame for it tonight, for she’d kept her eyes firmly closed this time from the moment she climbed into her hammock. No, tonight it was just plain old curiosity keeping her awake, wondering if the captain really did know what was ailing her and if there really was a cure for it. If there was a cure, what could it possibly be? It was probably some vile concoction that would taste horrible. If it didn’t, he would probably make sure it did.
“George?”
She considered feigning sleep, but why bother. A trip to the galley to fetch him something might tire her out, if that was what he wanted.
“Yes?”
“I can’t sleep.”
She rolled her eyes, already having figured that out. “Can I get you something?”
“No, I need something to soothe me. Perhaps if you read to me for a while. Yes, that ought to do it. Light a lamp, will you?”
As if she had any choice, she thought as she rolled out of her hammock. He’d warned her she might be called upon to do this. But she hadn’t been sleeping, either, so it made no difference tonight. She knew why she wasn’t sleeping, but she wondered what was keeping him awake.
She lit the lantern hanging by her bed and took it with her to the bookcase. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to hear, Captain?”
“There’s a thin volume, bottom shelf, far right. That should do the trick. And pull up a chair. It’s a quiet, soothing voice I need, not shouting across the room.”
She paused, but only for a second. She really hated the idea of getting near his bed while he was in it. But she reminded herself that he was decently covered, nor did she have to look at him. He only wanted her to read, and maybe the book would be boring enough to put her to sleep, too.
