“Talbot is showing some improvement today,” Bronswick said, “which would suggest a swift-moving ailment from which your daughter will soon recover.”
“Let’s hope so.” It was all Cassandra could think to say as she glanced down at Penelope one last time before heading to the galley. Devlin would care for her as if she were his own. Cassandra knew this without even having to ponder the issue. But not being able to sit by her bedside herself – it made her heart ache.
Two hours later, Cassandra stumbled toward Penelope’s cabin. She scarcely recalled boiling the eggs, frying the fish, or preparing the oranges she’d decided to serve. It was all a blur since her mind had been fully occupied by thoughts of her daughter and how she was faring. At least no one had sent for her, which surely meant that Penelope’s condition at least hadn’t worsened.
Clinging to this hope, Cassandra turned a corner and quickened her step when Penelope’s door came into view. It required an exercise in extreme self-control for her not to fling it wide open and rush to her daughter’s side. Instead, she carefully turned the knob and eased the door slowly away from its frame in order to minimize her disturbance.
The first thing that struck her was the air. It seemed fresher than earlier, and when a sudden rush of coolness licked at her skin, she realized the porthole had been opened. Cassandra smiled approvingly and edged her way further into the snug space. And that was when she saw them. Dismayed, Cassandra froze and simply stared while a series of warm, brightly colored emotions filled her heart and expanded it so much she feared it might burst.
She swallowed hard against the tightening of her throat as she watched Devlin sleep, his large body stretched out awkwardly on Penelope’s narrow bed while he cradled her in his arms. Her head was cushioned against his chest and she looked more peaceful than when Cassandra had last seen her. A soft snore left Devlin’s mouth, and Cassandra could not help but smile. Timothy might be gone but at least Devlin was here, and right now, that was all that mattered. His strength and his ability to make things better, his thoughtfulness and consideration for a girl who wasn’t his own. He was being a father to her – the father she’d always wanted – and Cassandra had no right to resent that. It was clear to her that Penelope needed him. And perhaps she needed him too, if she were being completely honest. Far more than she cared to admit.
Cassandra carefully touched her fingers to Penelope’s forehead. Her skin was still hot, but her breathing was calmer. And she was sleeping, which would surely aid her recovery. Locating the bucket Penelope had used that morning, Cassandra glanced into it and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was empty. Perhaps the worst had passed. She could only hope and… She looked around. There wasn’t much she could do right now. Devlin seemed to have things well in hand, so perhaps her best course of action would be to get some sleep as well.
The half hour bell rang, informing her she would soon have to wake again.
With this in mind, she left Devlin and Penelope to their rest and went in search of her own bed. She collapsed on it fully clothed, but rather than finding the sleep she’d expected, her mind was kept busy with thoughts of Devlin.
His goodness went straight to her heart, filling it with warmth and a desperate yearning for all the things she’d denied herself for so long.
She wanted him.
As much as she’d tried to tell herself otherwise, the kiss they’d shared proved it. He’d torn down her every defense and breathed new life into her soul. And it was time – time to consider the future instead of the past, to be the wife Devlin deserved so he could become the husband he wanted to be. It was time to put all her fears behind her and give their marriage a chance.
Inhaling deeply, Cassandra made her decision, and finally slept.
Chapter 12
It wasdark when Devlin awoke. He squinted, tried to adjust his eyes. A slim arm was draped across his waist, and he gingerly eased it aside so he could sit. Penelope, bless her heart, still slept as soundly as when she’d first nestled her head against his shoulder. The poor girl had been terribly ill after Cassandra’s departure, casting up her accounts until she collapsed against him, too weak to sit up or even to speak.
He’d briefly considered alerting Cassandra as promised, but then Penelope had drifted off and he’d chosen to wait. Rising, he rearranged the blanket, tucking it more securely around Penelope’s shoulders. His heart thumped hard on account of her suffering, and he leaned forward, driven by instinct, until he brushed his lips across her brow. She was still hot, though perhaps not as much as before. Locating the compress which had most likely slipped from her forehead ages ago, he wet it once more, wrung it, and smoothed it across her skin.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, even though she would not hear him.
After leaving the cabin, he made his way up onto the deck. “What’s the hour?” he asked once he’d located Monty. His friend gripped the wheel, holding it steady while shouting occasional orders to the crew managing the sails.
“It was six at the last bell.” Monty gave Devlin a sidelong look when he swore. “No need to worry about it, aye? We’re still on course, you’re well rested and better prepared to captain this marvelous vessel, and your wife, from what I’ve been hearing, is preparing beef for dinner.”
“Christ almighty.” He felt awful. “I have to go see how she’s doing.” The very idea of her slaving away while he slept made him feel like he’d abandoned his duties. And that was without considering his men. “I’m sorry, Monty. I’ll be back in a bit to take your spot. Lord knows you can probably do with some rest as well.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, now you mention it.” Monty gave him a hard look. “How’s your daughter doing?”
“Better. I think.”
“Glad to hear it. Now go see about your wife.”
Devlin did as he was told and was pleased to discover Cassandra hurrying about the galley, checking the oven and stirring the contents of various pots as if she’d been cooking on a ship her entire life. He approached her quietly, savoring the moment, the fragrant smell of meat roasting combined with various spices, and her – the woman he’d married.
She was the most capable person he’d ever known, managing all these years by herself and even succeeding to help others. While he’d made a convincing argument in order to get her to marry him, he was wise enough to know that she didn’t really need him. But it hadn’t occurred to him until recently how much he wanted her to. Not just physically, but in all aspects of day-to-day life.
With a sigh, he took a few steps closer. “It looks like you’re doing well here.”
She spun toward him, her eyes widening with surprise and then something else. “How’s—”
“She’s sleeping. Peacefully, I might add.” She closed her eyes and blew out a shuddering breath. When she looked at him again, he said, “I believe the worst has passed. Your prayers last night must have worked.”
“My…” She stopped herself and quickly nodded, though not before he noted her frown of confusion.
Odd that.
