Commanding Heart (11 page)

When the last patient was attended
to, Dr. Lyons began sorting his medical instruments, returning everything to
order once more. Catherine followed him but the doctor gave her arm a kind pat in
refusal. “No, I am afraid not, Miss Gibson. I think you have had enough
excitement for today. You must leave the rest to me and return to your
quarters.” Catherine protested at once; “No, I insist on helping you, Doctor.
You will have a long night ahead with your patients to attend to. Allow me to
finish these final tasks.”

A deep voice cut across Catherine’s
speech from the other side of the room: “The doctor is right, Miss Gibson. You
have had enough excitement for one day.” Catherine wheeled around at the sound
of Captain Knight’s disapproving tones. As she turned to meet his gaze, he saw
at once the full extent of what she had endured in the ship’s surgery: her hair
was now but roughly tied back after her exertions; her features were strained
from the work and worry; but most alarming was the shocking sight of blood smeared
across the front of her linen gown. Catherine had washed alongside Doctor Lyons
but her white dress was beyond repair. Only as he took in this fearsome
spectacle did Captain Knight realize the full extent of what Catherine had been
exposed to in the orlop during the battle.

“Lyons!” the captain snapped with
anger; “What can you have been thinking, man, to subject Miss Gibson to such…
such savagery!” His words came on ragged breaths; “I sent her here for
safe-keeping, not to be your damned assistant” he shouted with great feeling.
Dr. Lyons took the abuse with good grace – he knew when he accepted Catherine’s
help that there would be a price to pay afterwards. Captain Knight strode
forward angrily and the doctor stood braced to receive his captain’s wrath.
Before the captain could challenge him further, however, Catherine stepped
between the two and spoke: “Captain Knight,” she cut in sharply; “I will thank
you not to speak about me as though I were not here. Dr. Lyons wished me to
remain in his cabin but I insisted on offering my assistance. I have embarked
in this matter of my own free will.” The captain gave a contemptuous snort of
derision; “Oh, of course you have Miss Gibson, of course you have!” he exclaimed
with bitter irony. “I should have expected no less from such a stubborn,
foolish young woman. You are determined to seek trouble, determined to defy me
at every opportunity. Agreeing to bring you onboard is the greatest error in
judgment I have ever made.”

The harsh words hit Catherine like a
stinging blow. She flinched as his bitter speech came to an end leaving an
uncomfortable silence hanging in the room. After the anxiety and effort of the
past hours, this was too much. The reprimand left her feeling like an unruly
child that Captain Knight felt compelled to correct. Catherine drew in a shaky
breath and turned to the doctor with pretended calm: “I will leave you now, Dr.
Lyons. I bid you a good evening, sir.” The sturdy doctor clasped her hand in
his and spoke his thanks once more: “You have been a most welcome assistant,
Miss Gibson. Again, I apologize for… what you have had to endure this evening.”
The two shared a knowing look at his words, and then Catherine turned to face
the captain once more. Anger was writ large all over Knight’s face at their
exchange and Catherine could sense that he had a great deal more to say on the
matter but she would not allow it.

“Captain Knight,” she said with all
the aristocratic composure she could muster; “I know that I have failed in
obeying your orders today. I do not expect your understanding, nor your
forgiveness, but I do hope you will reserve your contempt for me alone, and not
for the men who have served you so well.” With that, Catherine swept past the captain,
her head held high in a final act of defiance. She should have known that such
mutinous words would not be allowed to stand unchallenged. Knight’s hand shot
out like lightning and grabbed Catherine’s wrist in a punishing hold. “We are
not finished just yet, Miss Gibson” Captain Knight said through clenched teeth.
Without further word he turned and left the orlop deck, angrily pulling
Catherine along in his wake.

Captain Knight moved quickly down the
ship’s passageways, his punishing grip on Catherine’s wrist never slackening
for a moment. Catherine trailed behind him like a captive slave, fully
expecting to be locked in her cabin for the last of her journey, but instead of
returning there, Knight led Catherine to his own rooms. He ushered her inside, slammed
the door shut with violence, then roughly removed his captain’s coat and tossed
it aside. Catherine’s alarm grew as Knight began pacing the length of the room,
the muscle in his jaw working furiously. At last, the captain stopped and turned
to face Catherine, firmly planting his imposing frame between her and the
doorway.

“What were you thinking?” he said in
quiet sharp tones. His eyes glittered darkly and he moved closer to Catherine:
“You know this is not a damned pleasure sail on a river. We are a ship at war.
So what on earth would possess you to come on deck as we were about to engage
in action? And when dismissed to the orlop, why would you leave Dr. Lyons’
rooms and subject yourself to such scenes unnecessarily? You are the most
headstrong, infuriating woman I have ever met!” he finished sharply. Catherine
burned once more at his harsh reprimands. Instead of making her see reason, his
words only fueled Catherine’s own anger. She looked up at him, fearless in her
stubborn pride, and shot back: “I am not a sailor for you to command, sir, nor
a child to obey! I will conduct myself as I see fit and I will not allow my
actions to be constantly called into question by you. You yourself sent me to
the orlop – was I to stand idly by while there was assistance I could give?”
she faltered a little at this as the scenes of the sickroom came before her
once more but she steeled her nerves and continued: “I am not a helpless
creature to come at your whistle when wanted, and dismissed when inconvenient.”
Knight’s eyes burned darker as Catherine spoke. He drew even closer, sparks of
slow flame showing in his dark eyes. She feared the strong emotions she read
there and vainly tried to move away but Knight caught her once more.
“Catherine,” he breathed hoarsely, his voice raw with emotion.

Catherine starred in shocked surprise
at his use of her given name, at the raw intensity of his emotion. She
struggled once more to free her hand from his grasp but to no avail. He stared
at her a moment longer before his head bent down to hers covering her mouth in
a punishing kiss. Reality seemed to slip away in a fevered moment that was part
need, part desire. Catherine struggled at first, and then sagged against Knight,
her hands splayed across the warm front of his open shirt. At her welcome
response, the captain slid his hands hungrily over the sides of her silk gown,
pulling her closer as his kisses continued their assault on her mouth.
Seemingly of their own volition, Catherine’s hands slid up the fabric of his
shirt, trailing fire across his chest as she reached for his neck and drew him
even closer to her. Her head tilted back in abandon as his lips traced a trail
of kisses along her jawbone and down the creamy smoothness of her neck. Her
fingers curled in the crisp, curly hair at the base of Knight’s neck and she
gave a soft moan of pleasure at the sensations he was causing within her. At
the sound, he lifted his head and once more took possession of her lips, his
mouth seeking, nibbling, and teasing with desire. Hungrily he pulled her
tighter against the long, hard length of his body.  They seemed to fuse
together, one burning figure of longing and passion. Knight’s strong hands
roamed every curve of her body, entwining themselves in the soft curls of her
golden hair while Catherine drowned in sensations she never dreamed possible.

Knight drew back a moment, his
penetrating blue eyes burning with desire. His hands cupped the beautiful
planes of her face, thumbs gently caressing her cheeks flushed with color. The
captain gazed into her eyes, glittering with longing: “Catherine,” he breathed
on a long, ragged breath, “Catherine, I…”

The cabin door suddenly swung open
and a startled Tom Foster took in the unusual sight before him. Catherine
sprang out of Captain Knight’s embrace and turned away in mortification. With
trembling hands she attempted to smooth her dress, her hair. “I… I…” stammered Foster.
He trailed off, not knowing how to proceed in this most unusual scenario. He
looked first to Catherine struggling to regain her composure, then to his captain
who for the first time in their acquaintance seemed unsure of his next action. Knight
swore softly under his breath and turned to Catherine. Confusion and embarrassment
were written all over her face. Unconsciously she rubbed her wrist where Knight
had held her. Knight watched her movements, his lips clamped together in a
firm, unyielding line.

In the chaos of the moment, a
thousand thoughts flashed like lightning through Catherine’s mind. Her complex feelings
for the captain battled within her and were suddenly made clear – she was in
love with him. Despite their differences, their constant arguing and
misunderstandings, she had fallen in love with him. The thought filled her with
momentary joy but it was a hope quickly dashed by cold reality. Their desire
was unmistakable; the passion that existed between them could not be denied.
But at the same time, Catherine recognized that for the captain, passion was
all he felt for her. There was no tender friendship, no esteem for her
character. Their encounters were marked by either bitter arguments or frantic
lovemaking – there was no in between. Added to this was the certain knowledge
that even if Captain Knight were attracted to her, he would make no declaration
of love, no offer to share his world. His life belonged to the navy, to this
ship, and there could be no room for her in his life. As the painful
realization dawned on Catherine, her heart beat with irregular rhythm. She
looked unflinchingly at this powerful man and knew without a doubt that her
heart belonged to him alone. But as she searched his stern, controlled face,
she could find no outward sign of this same feeling in his own heart.
Catherine’s pulse fluttered weakly until pride came to her rescue: she drew her
slight shoulders back and lifted her chin stubbornly.  She looked like a
condemned prisoner about to face the gallows, but determined to proceed with
all haste. “You will both please excuse me” she said with icy coldness, then
walked out of the room.

She sensed a change in Knight’s unyielding
posture at her words but he offered no resistance as she passed. Catherine left
the room in silence and made her way to her cabin. Safe in its sanctuary once
more, Catherine threw herself on the bed where the burdens of the day could
finally be released, along with a flood of tears. The day was over and the
battle had been won, but for Catherine, everything seemed lost.

Chapter XIV

The remainder of Catherine’s journey
passed like a fevered dream. As much as possible she remained in her cabin,
avoiding any further contact with Captain Knight. Her Uncle Matthews was
certain it was worry of Jamaica that kept her confined to quarters, and so did
not question her reasons for remaining alone. On her final night aboard,
however, Catherine knew she must leave her room and join the gentlemen at
dinner. Morning would see them arrive in Jamaica and it was her duty to offer
her farewells.

The evening proved as awkward as her
first aboard the
HMS Triton
. Catherine had prepared for supper in great
agitation, struggling to remain composed at the prospect of sharing a room with
Captain Knight again. She arrived at table later than the expected hour but
offered no apologies as she sat down. Attired in the most conservative gown
from her wardrobe and with no trace of her usual good humor, Catherine seemed a
stranger to the officers. Everyone at table knew of her anxiety about Jamaica but even that could not explain her cold reserve on this evening. From the other
end of the table, Captain Knight seemed similarly affected: his usual
hospitality was replaced by an inexplicable curtness. Tension hung over the
entire table and none were brave enough to try to break through.

The little talk that did take place
all centered on the French prisoners that had been taken after their battle.
The men were being held in the brig of
HMS Triton
and there was much
speculation as to what secrets they might reveal. “They’ve given no
explanation, Captain, why they were in these waters?” asked one young
lieutenant. Captain Knight did not even look up as he responded in brusque
tones: “No. None.” The lieutenant missed the hint of danger in his captain’s
words and blindly continued in his questioning: “But surely there must have
been papers on board that contain their mission?” Captain Knight set his wine
glass down with slow deliberation and gave the lieutenant a withering look
before stating in the same brusque tones: “No. None.” Catherine looked up at
the captain’s sharp reply and caught an unusual look pass between her uncle and
the captain. She could not be certain but Catherine felt that the two held some
secret they were not sharing with the other men. Catherine considered the
possibility but was not convinced; Captain Knight was normally open with his
men on such matters as affected them all. And yet as the strange tension in the
room continued Catherine could not help but wonder if the mysteries of the
French ship lay at the heart of the captain’s behavior on this night.

After the last agonizing course was
over the company began to break up with relief. Catherine stood and received
each officer in turn to say her thanks and a final goodbye. She regretted that
the atmosphere on their last night was so difficult but she could not shake her
discomfort in the presence of Captain Knight. At last, after numerous polite
speeches and good wishes from the officers, Catherine, her uncle and Captain
Knight alone remained in the room. Matthews clearly felt the same awkwardness
as the others and strove to end the situation with equanimity: “Well,” he said
tentatively, “the morning will soon be upon us. We should bid good night to the
captain, Catherine.” Catherine nodded her agreement but she did not speak. The
three stood in silence until the captain himself spoke: “Yes Matthews. I regret
we must make our farewells. But might I first ask for a few moments alone with
Miss Gibson?”