“If you’re asking whereyoushould sleep, may I suggest the bed?” He blinked at her innocently and patted the empty space next to him.
“Will you be in the bed if I sleep there?”
“Of course I will. It’s my bed.” His grin was unrepentant. “It’s far more comfortable than where Martin slept, however.”
She tapped her booted foot on the ground. “Which was?”
Cade sighed and pointed. “On a pallet on the floor in the corner.”
She hadn’t seen a pallet during her earlier explorations. “Where is it?”
“Look, Danielle, I won’t touch you. I promise. No one needs to know we share this bed. I can’t stand to think of you sleeping on the floor.”
“Where’s the pallet?” she asked calmly.
He sighed again. “In the cabinet near the bookshelf.”
She marched over to the cabinet, opened it, and knelt down to pull out the pallet. It consisted of a small pad filled with old hay by the smell of it, and a rough woolen blanket. No pillow. She wrangled it out of the cabinet and spread it on the floor nearby. It was perfectly acceptable. She’d slept on worse. Many times.
Cade got up to blow out the candles. She turned her head to the wall and concentrated on trying to get comfortable on the pallet. A pillow, the one she’d used at Lady Daphne’s house, came sailing through the air and landed near her. The man was a good shot. She smiled and pulled the pillow close, snuggling her head upon it. It was nice to have this one memory of her time at Lady Daphne’s. She wondered how much Mary and Mrs. Huckleberry hated her now, and what Lady Daphne thought. She hoped the poor woman didn’t think her brother-in-law and her maid had run off together. Only they had. Sort of.Mon dieu,it was complicated. She’d think about it tomorrow.
The last words she heard before she fell asleep were, “Good night, Cross. If you change your mind, the bed remains available.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Danielle woke the next morning to the smell of sea air and… an aching back. Not just an aching back—anexcruciatinglyaching back. It had been a long while since she’d slept on the floor. How longhadit been? She’d got her sea legs back so quickly. She’d assumed all the other aspects of life aboard a ship would come back to her immediately. She sat up, braced her hands behind her on the planks, and groaned. Sunlight streamed through the windows. She glanced over at the bed. Cade was gone and his bed was neat as a pin.
She made her way slowly to her feet, groaning again as she stood. The pallet was even thinner than she’d thought. She stretched and rubbed the small of her back. Then she raised her arms to the sky. First things first. She needed to answer the call of nature.
She tiptoed—she didn’t know why she tiptoed—over to the washbasin and peered down into the chamber pot. Empty. She breathed a sigh of relief.Merci dieufor small favors. At least Cade didn’t expect her to performthatodious part of the job of cabin boy. She did her business quickly, hoping against hope that Cade didn’t return while she was in the middle of it.
Thankfully, she was left alone and when she finished she was left with the chamber pot filled with the contents of her bladder. She tiptoed to the window, careful not to splash. She couldn’t toss it out because the side of the ship jutted out too far.Maudit. She’d have to find another place to dispose of it. She closed her eyes. Why did she have a feeling this was going to end in nothing but embarrassment?
Ensuring her hair was properly tucked into her hat, she tentatively opened the door to the captain’s cabin and peered out. No one there. She managed to climb the stairs to the quarterdeck without spilling on herself. Well done, Cross!
She scurried across the deck to the lee side, the wind at her back. She’d just finished tossing the lot into the water when a voice startled her.
“Cross, there ye be.” O’Malley’s jovial voice rang across the deck. “How did ye manage to get a demotion in the span o’ one night’s time?” The man laughed.
Still clutching the chamber pot, Danielle turned to face the second mate and lifted her chin. She was prepared for this question. Had been planning for it all night. “The cap’n decided he didn’t believe me credentials as a cook’s assistant.”
O’Malley laughed again and slapped his thigh. “Ye can’t be no worse than Martin. Boy don’t know a spoon from a fork.”
Danielle shrugged. “I don’t much care what I do as long as I’m out o’ London.”
O’Malley laughed more and clapped her on the back. “I hear that, lad. I hear that.”
Danielle was still clutching the thankfully empty chamber pot minutes later when Cade’s booming voice rang out. “Cross! What are you doing there?”
She jumped and turned, clutching the pot to her middle. Cade strode toward them.
“I hope I don’t have ta explain, sir.” She glanced down at the pot.
She could tell he was fighting a smile. “I see. Are you finished?”
If she were a blusher, now would be anexcellenttime to blush. “Aye, Cap’n,” she managed.
“Then get back to the cabin.”
