“Lying down only makes it worse.”
“I see.” Cassandra bit her lip. “I could try and read to you in order to pass the time.”
And to stop from thinking of Devlin and whether or not she would see him again.
Her insides had tied themselves into a big messy knot when she’d seen him dive over the side of the ship. It tightened now at the thought of him fighting his way through the water, of waves tumbling over his head, and Dear God, what chance did he possibly have? How would he ever survive?
“Mama?”
Cassandra blinked. “Yes?”
“You offered to read.”
“Right. So I did.” She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep every part of herself in check, how she stopped herself from unraveling completely. But somehow she did. Somehow she managed to read two full chapters ofWaverlywithout being aware she’d done so. Absently, her eyes had moved over the words while her mouth spoke them aloud. Until she realized the ship wasn’t bobbing about quite as much as it had done earlier. It was settling, the darkness receding, and…
Something scraped against the door, most likely whatever had been used to secure it and stop Cassandra from getting out. It opened one second later and Bronswick appeared, looking much like a half-drowned rat. “The storm has passed. I thought you should know.” He disappeared before Cassandra could question him further. Infuriating man! She wanted to chase him and shake him and…
Devlin, sopping wet from head to toe, half stumbled, half fell through the door. His eyes went straight to his bed where Penelope rested, the longing on his face transforming into defeat. Groaning, he staggered around his desk, expelled a long breath, and collapsed in his chair.
At which point Cassandra burst into tears.
Devlin wasn’tsure what he needed first. A tall glass of brandy, to get his clothes off, or to fall into bed. Unfortunately his bed was presently occupied by Penelope. And as long as she was in the cabin he couldn’t get undressed either. So he chose to start with the brandy.
The bottle he kept in his desk drawer would serve nicely. After fumbling about for a bit on account of his aching hands, he managed to fill a glass and drink. Christ, that felt good! He welcomed the bite and the heat that followed. It filled his chest and made him feel more or less whole again.
Penelope stood. “I’ll go back to my own cabin. In case you want to lie down.”
“Thank you.” He wasn’t sure he had the strength to get out of the chair, but he was grateful for her consideration.
She seemed to hesitate. “Will you be all right, Mama?”
Cassandra made a sound and Penelope left the cabin. “I thought you were dead,” she said once her daughter was gone. Her voice was hoarse and slightly broken.
Devlin took another fortifying sip of his drink. Ahh. “Sorry to disappoint,” he said, aiming for levity. After all, they’d been at odds with each other for weeks now, so it seemed like a natural comment to make.
But then he looked at her, at her blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes, at the tears streaking over her cheeks. His heart made a funny leap, and he straightened himself in his chair. But before he was able to analyze the situation, Cassandra was on her feet with her hands fisted at her sides. The cabin was small, so it took only two steps for her to reach him. Leaning down, she brought her face level with his. Anger, the likes of which he’d never seen before, flashed in her eyes, and for a brief second, he seriously considered jumping back into the ocean.
“I thought you were dead,” she hissed, repeating herself. Only this time she followed the statement with a punch to his chest. It hurt. Even though there wasn’t much force behind the blow, Devlin’s weak body received it with bruising force. And then she hit him again. “I thought I’d lost you as well, Dev.” Another punch landed against his shoulder. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
He caught her wrists even as she collapsed before him, sinking onto her knees with great heaving sobs. “I had no choice, Cass. You have to understand. I had to save him.”
He stared down into her crumpled face and felt his heart wobble. In spite of everything, she obviously cared for him. Why else would she respond like this?
“Never again. Please, you have to promise me, Dev.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Not as long as I am the captain.” This only made her cry harder, so Devlin did the only thing he could think of doing and pulled her against his chest, holding her close, his hand stroking her back until her breaths eased. And even then, he remained as he was, hugging her to him and savoring her warmth for long moments after.
Until she leaned back abruptly, as if she’d just remembered something. “We have to get you dry.” Her eyes, still wet with tears, had widened. Her hands reached out, patting his chest. “No, no, no…you cannot survive all of this just to die from a chill.” She pulled away and rose to her feet. “I won’t allow it.”
Devlin gave her an assessing look. “You seem remarkably concerned about my wellbeing all of a sudden.”
“Of course I’m concerned. I would have to be a shrew not to be.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
She puffed out a breath. “You are my husband after all, and I do love you.” Her hands waved about as if they had the power to speed things along. “Now get up so I can help you undress.”
But Devlin couldn’t move. He could only stare, and eventually manage to ask, “Could you repeat that please?”
