Except, he’d been looking at that smile in his dreams and memories for close to a century. Grace Thibodaux or no, Grainne’s smile would live in him until his last breath. So, eliminating Grace was pointless.
He shook his head. Unlike himself, she wouldn’t live forever. He might as well enjoy the smile and Grace while he could.
Luc took her hand again. “We’ll start at the bow, and make our way back and down.”
Her expression was open and genuinely interested. Then again, she was an admirer of history and antiquities, so it shouldn’t surprise him. However, few women enjoyed nautical history and artefacts. Grace’s opinion remained unrevealed for now.
“This style of ship,” he said as they walked. “Is designed for speed and trade. Since a deep draught tends to slow a ship, they were rarely built with more than a single deck. That maximizes cargo space in the hold but limits the number of guns and carronades to be carried.”
Grace asked questions about the carronades, long guns, stacks of cannon balls, grape shot and powder.
Her knowledge of shipboard vocabulary impressed. Perhaps she would like sailing. Luc loved it. He’d never imagined he could do the thing he loved with a woman he loved at his side. Of course, he didn’t love Grace.
“All were necessary, for any ship plying the waters when I was sailing.”
They traversed the length of the deck along the port side, then turned back toward the bow via the starboard.
Luc pointed out neatly stowed sails, line, explained the use of winches, capstans and hawse pipes.
They paused near the hatch to the hold.
“I see you have no poop deck. Where are the captain’s quarters?” she asked. A line appeared between her brows.
“For my first few years as captain, I slept in a hammock in the hold along with my crew.”
“Modest of you,” she said.
“Not so modest as greedy,” Luc confessed. “Any space not used for guns or cargo was wasted space. I wanted to carry as much cargo as possible.” He extended a hand toward her. “May I?”
Grace looked down at where he’d pointed to her electric lantern. “Oh, of course.” She handed it over.
He spent a moment examining it. “Ingenious. What makes the light?”
“Electric battery,” she informed off-handedly.
“So, this is what came of the work done by Volta, Franklin and others. I read about their experiments. Nothing practical had resulted from them before I was cursed. Come, let us go below. I’ve more to show.”
“You read about science and scientists? You do not seem to me a man who cares much about such things.”
“You don’t know everything about me,” he said, wondering if she wanted to know more. He opened the hatchway and entered before her. As they descended, the slap of the bayou against the hull faded to a low throb. The scent of aged oak mixed with the stink of tar and pitch.
At the bottom, he ducked and turned to guide her. Taking her hand in his again, he drew her into the dimly lit space. “Watch your head.” He lifted the lantern to show her the cross beams that supported the upper deck.
“So that’s why you’re crouched over. This space isn’t much taller than I am. Even stranger, when I entered the ship, the hull was split in two. Now it’s whole. How is that possible?” Awe tinted her voice.
“I can’t say for certain, but the curse included me and theOnly Love. It makes sense to me, in terms of the curse, for my ship to be, like myself, as‘inconstant’as the moon.” He led Grace to the forward side of the ladder. “Most cargo is stowed in the bow along with the ship’s stores.”
“Your hold is empty?” she queried.
“After I was cursed, I told my navigator to take the cargo for himself,” Luc explained.
“I don’t suppose much cargo would survive nine decades of storage.”
“Precisely,” he confirmed. “What of the parts not used for cargo?”
“The rest of the area is used for ballast. The amount of ballast required depends on the weight of the cargo and stores.” He warmed to his topic encouraged by her questions and her interest.
“Logical,” she said. “You use up supplies and off load cargo, so at some point you have to take on more ballast.”
