The Secret Rose (27 page)

Tonight was as much of herself as she could give him. More than she’d been wise to share with him. The heavy pain in her breast told her how careless she’d been.

She pushed him away from her. What a fool she’d been to think he would be satisfied with just kisses. What a fool she’d been to think her heart could escape unscathed. She hurt as if a knife had been thrust into her breast.

Large tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. She vowed he wouldn’t see them.

“Ethan, stop.”

“Abby, let me take you below. We can’t—”

“No. Stop.”

Every muscle in his body stiffened. He looked into her eyes, and with a loud moan, he dropped his head back on his shoulders and closed his eyes.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he uttered through clenched teeth, his breaths coming in short, jagged gasps.

The black look in his eyes was filled with a vengeful anger she’d only glimpsed in him once before—the day she’d run away from him and Stafford had found them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice sounding cold and heartless, even to her own ears.

“Bloody hell,” he repeated, then pushed himself away from her and leaned against the railing. “A damn bullet to the head would have been kinder.”

A tear wanted to spill from her eyes, but she busied herself with her gown to hide how much her heart ached. “Don’t you dare blame me for what just happened,” she said when she could speak. “I was not the one who started this.”

“You didn’t say no, either.”

Her hands shook as she tried to fasten her buttons, the same ones he’d released with such ease. “You knew I’d never let you—” She couldn’t say the words. “I warned you the day you forced me to marry you.”

He pushed her hands away and fastened the buttons himself, then stooped to pick up her cloak. “You didn’t say you would torture me every chance you got. That you wouldn’t be satisfied until you nearly killed me, either.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Don’t you speak of fair. Nothing you did tonight was fair.”

He turned his back to her and braced his arms against the railing of the ship. “Go back to your cabin,” he ordered, keeping his focus on something far out at sea.

She searched for something to say that would give her the last word, that would make things better, but there was nothing.

“Go!”

She pulled her cloak tightly about her shoulders and walked away from him. She didn’t regret what she’d done tonight. She’d wanted to have him hold her, and kiss her, and touch her. She remembered his mouth on hers, and her knees nearly gave out beneath her.

She knew what she’d allowed had been cruel. But she needed at least this one memory to sustain her after she left. At least this one night to fill her dreams.

Storm clouds gathered overhead. Dark. Ominous. Threatening. As angry and violent as the storm that brewed inside Ethan since the night he’d kissed Abigail. It had been three days, and his frustration hadn’t lessened. They’d docked at Lisbon long enough to unload their cargo and take on the cargo that would go to London, and not once during that time had she spoken to him.

Damn her and her secrets.
How could he fight something when he didn’t know what it was?

He walked the length of the
Emerald Gold
, feeling the dank uneasiness that always preceded a storm. The sailors busily prepared for what was coming, their gay laughter and rousing sea chanteys now as silent and eerie as a church after the door closes behind the last parishioner. Each man worked at his task, his hands busy preparing for the storm, while at least one watchful eye remained on the darkening horizon behind them.

Ethan climbed the five steps to the helm where Mac stood watching the line of building clouds. Out of habit, Ethan picked up the compass and the latest page of charts and studied them. After making some calculations of his own, he set the instrument back in the little wooden box where it was stored.

A faint rumble echoed in the distance, a thunderous warning of the force and power bearing down on them. “This is going to be a rough one,” Mac said in reverent awe, his voice an acknowledgment of the quiet calm that ushered in a raging storm. “I thought we could outrun it, but that black wall is gaining on us too fast.” He clasped his hands behind his back and braced his shoulders and legs in readiness.

“The
Emerald Gold
is a sturdy ship,” Ethan said, knowing even the sturdiest of ships were no match for the rampaging forces of nature. He opened the telescope and put the glass to his eye. A shudder raced through his body. The wall of angry black clouds was one the biggest, most threatening storms he’d ever seen.

“I have Abby below with Mary Rose. If something happens and I can’t get to them,” Ethan said, keeping his eye focused on the building clouds swirling above the horizon, “watch over them for me.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, or any of the rest of us, either.”

“Of course not,” Ethan agreed, giving Mac a smile he knew wasn’t quite believable. “But if something were to go wrong, take her to Windswept Manor and keep her there until she can decide what to do. Maybe eventually she’ll come to love it and realize Mary Rose will be better off there than in England.”

“Let’s just worry about this storm,” Mac answered, his voice filled with emotions Ethan knew he couldn’t bring himself to put into words.

The rumbling thunder echoed louder, the wind swirling around them in angry circles. Mac’s next order brought the seriousness into perspective. “All hands!” he bellowed, cupping his hand around his mouth. “Furl the royals and topgallants, and double-reef the topsails.”

A half-dozen sailors climbed the mainmast and made a line that spanned the yardarm, balancing on the narrow rope beneath their feet. Another group climbed the foremast and another the mizzenmast. One by one, they furled the sails as the wind blew even harder, its gusts becoming a steady gale.

Mac lifted his telescope and kept the glass focused on the building clouds racing toward them. A sharp bolt of lightning forked through the darkening sky, the thunder exploding with such ferocity that it seemed to rip the black wall into pieces. With the calm, steady hand of an experienced captain, he handed the instrument back to Ethan, then bellowed his next set of orders.

“Furl the topsails and close-reef the mainsails. Batten down!”

Men scattered to follow their captain’s orders as the wind whipped around them and the rain slapped against their faces. The
Emerald Gold
pitched, then heaved with a great shudder as the first angry wave slammed against her. “Take the wheel, Ethan. Keep her course steady and straight. The sea is littered with tiny islands starboard side. We have to avoid the rocks.”

They shared the confident look of two friends who had risked their lives before, but for Ethan, it had been easier then. He hadn’t had Abby to worry about, or the responsibility of taking care of Mary Rose.

He took the steps to the wheelhouse and clasped his hands on the spokes of the wheel. Fighting an impending fear he refused to acknowledge, he braced his body to face the elements.

The wind increased to a howling gale. Huge, cold drops of rain pummeled the deck with a harsh splattering. Ethan knew the sea at its most violent was unstoppable. His heart raced as it always did when he had to bow to the elements. He thought of Abby and how he wanted to go to her, to hold her, and kiss her, and tell her everything would be all right.

With an angry roar, the wind slammed into them. Huge waves slapped against the side of the ship with a ferocity that caused the mighty
Emerald Gold
to buck sideways.

Ethan saw the wall of water bearing down on them and issued a prayer. “God help us,” he whispered.

He lowered his head as the wind dashed the stinging rain against his face. He braced his legs wide, his physical stance in readiness for the ensuing battle. Insignificant man against a raging force so much more powerful. He knew the odds for survival. He thought of Abby again.

The muscles across his back and shoulders and down his arms screamed in pain. With unyielding tenacity, he held the ship steady as the next monstrous wave exploded over the deck.

. . .

It had been hours. Hours that dragged by with such agonizing slowness she thought time had come to a halt, suspending them in this terrifying nightmare, refusing to let them escape.

Every muscle in her body ached from cradling Mary Rose close to her to keep her safe. With unrelenting fury, the angry storm tossed the
Emerald Gold
from side to side as if it were a toy, pitching her one way, then the other.

Even huddled in the corner, she felt no protection against the howling wind and violent waves. Each new assault slammed her against the wall, battering and bruising her arms and shoulders and hips.

She’d been through storms before with her father, but never anything of this magnitude. Never anything this violent. She thought of Ethan facing the elements, risking his life. She didn’t want to think that something might happen to him.

Abigail brushed the coppery curls from Mary Rose’s sleeping face and fought the fear that made her heart pound in her breast. The
Emerald Gold
shuddered and groaned, then threatened to break apart with each new wave that slammed against her. Yet Mary Rose slept on. She didn’t know to fear the forces of nature. She trusted that the people around her would protect her and keep her safe.

A shadowy darkness enveloped the cabin, with only one small candle in an anchored bucket of gravel lit for fear any more might start a fire. The lack of light seemed suffocating. The only relief against its oppression was the frequent and blinding lightning that illuminated the room in brief flashes.

She thought of Ethan up above, fighting the raging winds, tired and losing strength. A painful ache clenched inside her breast. “Please, God. Please keep him safe,” she prayed silently. “Please, don’t make me live my life without him.”

Before she’d uttered her silent amen, a deafening thud from up on deck shattered through the howling winds like an explosion. The ship trembled and groaned. Abigail’s heart leaped to her throat. Mary Rose woke and stirred restlessly. “Shh, sweetling,” she said, comforting Mary Rose in a voice much calmer than how she felt.

Another violent wave slammed into the
Emerald Gold,
then another in an explosive crash that rocked the shuddering ship. Abigail knew they’d lost one of their masts and said a quick prayer that the ship would hold together.

She’d heard of ships going down in storms. Heard of entire crews being lost. Heard of men being washed overboard. What if a wave crashed over the deck of the
Emerald Gold
and hurled Ethan into the churning sea? She swiped a tear from her eyes.

She wasn’t sure she could survive if something happened to him. Every minute since she’d walked away from his kiss had been pure torture. She wanted him to hold her, and touch her, and kiss her again. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and be all the things he wanted in a wife. All the things she’d been so foolish to deny she could be to him.

She loved him. What if she never got the chance to tell him how she felt? She closed her eyes and pictured his face: his mahogany hair and midnight blue eyes. His high cheekbones and the rigid cut of his jaw. The strength of his muscled arms and the gentleness of his touch. His easy laughter and the—

Without warning the door swung open and Ethan burst into the cabin. She had to hold herself from rushing to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his chest heaving. She knew it had been a struggle to get to her.

“Yes. Are you?”

The faint curve of his lips belied the worry she saw on his face. There was a dark bruise on his right cheekbone and a deep gash above his left eyebrow. Steady rivulets of rain ran down his face, and his clothes clung to every part of his body. He’d never looked more desirable.

“I’m fine.”

“I heard the crash. How bad is it?”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Abby. Everything’s fine.”

“How bad is it?” she repeated.

Ethan breathed a deep sigh, then shook his head. “We lost the fore and main topgallant masts, and the main topsail yard.”

“Are we taking on water?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll be all right.”

She said the words even though she knew they weren’t true. She knew it was only a matter of time until the wind and the waves would do more damage. She’d heard stories of ships that had been safe and sound one minute, and rubble at the bottom of the sea the next.

Ethan looked around the cabin. “Your father taught you well,” he said, nodding toward the small anchored table beside the bed she’d covered with a blanket to dull the sharp corners. She’d also stored everything not fastened down behind a locked door.

Abigail nodded, then opened her arms so Mary Rose could escape. Their talking had wakened her, and upon hearing Ethan’s voice, she’d dropped the cloth doll clutched in her arms and flung herself toward Ethan chattering, “Cat!”

He caught her up, then cradled her close to him and gave her a big hug. “Hi, Pud. Did that nasty storm wake you?”

He held her even closer when another violent gale struck the leeward side of the ship and threw him against the cabin wall. Then, he sat on the floor next to Abigail and nestled Mary Rose snuggly in his lap.

“Is this storm scaring you?” he asked Mary Rose when he was settled.

Mary Rose reached out a pudgy hand and rubbed her palm against the stubble on his face, then muttered a string of inane sounds.

“So far, this has been a great adventure for her,” Abigail said. The
Emerald Gold
pitched to the side, throwing all of them off balance. She righted herself. “She’s not frightened in the least.”

“Good,” he said, tucking the blanket around the three of them. When it was securely in place, he wrapped his arm around Abigail’s shoulders and pulled her close to him.

“We’ll wait out the storm together,” he said.

Abigail turned into him and wrapped her arm around his waist. She pressed her cheek to his chest and held tight. She knew he hadn’t completed this thought. She knew he meant to say they’d wait out the storm together…or go down together. The way he held her told her as much.