A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2) (11 page)

Louisa had no trouble finding the second mate.  He was in the galley with a few other men, drinking to the memory of the departed sailors, and cursing the corsairs, using some very colorful language.  His eyes opened wide in utter shock as she ordered him to the bridge, leaving before he had a chance to comment or refuse.  She had to run another errand before tending to Kit.  Louisa knocked gently on the door of the captain’s cabin, so as not to disturb him. 

The smell of
impending death hit her as soon as she walked into the spacious room.  Mr. Willis sat by the captain’s side, his childish face full of worry and fear.  Captain Fellowes looked deathly pale, his face clammy; horrible wheezing sounds coming from his chest.  She couldn’t see the wound that pierced his lung beneath the heavy blanket, but it had to be very bad.  The captain’s lips were cracked and bleeding, moving soundlessly in an effort to either pray or say something to the cabin boy. 

“Mister Willis, I wonder if I could
have a cup of claret.”  Louisa whispered. 

“Certainly,
Mistress Jamison.  It’s over there on the desk.  You must be very shaken.  I quite understand.”  Daniel Willis looked quite shaken himself, but he was trying to put on a brave face for her sake. Louisa gave him her warmest smile, wondering how long he had been at sea, and where his family was, if he had any.

“I heard of your bravery, Mr. Willis. 
You are a very impressive young man.  You will make an excellent captain some day.”  The boy’s face went pink with pleasure, and Louisa had the most overwhelming desire to give him a motherly hug.  He was just a child, after all.  Instead, she took a pewter cup and filled it with claret.  She had to admit that drinking it seemed very appealing at the moment.  She was shaken, but she had things to do before she could allow herself to deal with her own feelings.  She thanked the boy and left the cabin. 

Kit was already in his cabin by the time she got there.  He had managed to pull off his boots and lay wet and dripping on his berth, his eyes partially closed.  Louisa set down the cup of claret and the basin of rainwater she carried under her arm
, and went to shut the door.  She nearly laughed at his expression of shock.  Unmarried ladies didn’t go to a man’s cabin unchaperoned, much less shut the door behind them.  The fact that the man in question was barely conscious didn’t diminish the impropriety of the situation.

“Can you take off your shirt, Mr. Sheridan?”

“So, it’s Mr. Sheridan again, is it?” he mumbled, as he tried to sit up without moving his injured arm. 

“Let me help you.”  Louisa helped him sit and started to pull of
f his shirt, leaving the sleeve of the wounded arm for last.  She peeled off the wet fabric from the filthy bandage and helped him back down.  At least the shirt wasn’t stuck to his arm.  The linen bandage was soaked with blood and covered his arm almost from elbow to shoulder. 

“Let’s have a look at it, shall we?”  She tried to sound soothing, but he just laughed.

“The last time someone spoke to me like that I was five and skinned my knee.  Help yourself, Angel of Mercy.  I am at your disposal.” 

Kit closed his eyes and let her untie the bandage.  Louisa tried not to stare at the jagged wound that
gaped open to reveal muscle and a glimmer of bone.  Right.  It was deeper than she expected, but it didn’t look infected.  Not yet.  Louisa dipped some clean cloth into the rainwater and began to sponge the wound.  She was glad it had rained, since salt seawater would have been the worst thing to use.  The salt would have burned, causing Kit a lot of unnecessary pain.  The cloth was quickly saturated with blood, needing to be washed out every few minutes. 

“I
’m going to disinfect your wound by putting some claret on it.  It will probably sting, but it will kill any infection,” she informed him.

“Are you mad, woman?  You
’re going to waste good claret on my arm?  Give it here.  It will do more good.”  Kit was staring at her as if she had taken leave of her senses, reaching for the cup. Louisa reminded herself that he knew nothing of germs or infections, and was lucky if he washed his hands from time to time. 

“I know what I
’m doing, Mr. Sheridan,” she snapped, pressing the claret-soaked cloth to his arm.  He stiffened, but remained quiet, watching her. 

“Have you cared for wounded men before? And how much good wine have you wasted?” he asked with a slight smile.  She could tell he was in pain, but he had to have the last word. 

“Don’t concern yourself with that.  Just drink the rest of the claret and try to sleep.”  Louisa handed him the cup and watched him drain it in one gulp.  He lay back, still watching her.

“May I ask you something?”

Louisa nodded, afraid of what he might ask.  She knew the question would be very personal, and had to figure out how to answer him without arousing suspicion.

“Why did you never marry?” he asked softly.

“No one ever asked.”  It was the truth.  Louisa had been with Doug for nearly eight years, but he never asked her to marry him.  He seemed happy with the way things were, and told her he loved her without needing to make it official.  His love for her didn’t stop him from leaving though, did it?

“I don’t believe that.  You must have had dozens of offers.”

“No.  There was a man I loved, but he never asked me to marry him.”  Louisa turned away, embarrassed by his direct gaze.

“He was obviously a fool to let you get away,
” Kit replied, taking her hand in his.  “I am asking.”

“Asking what?”  Louisa could feel the heat coming off his hand.  He was still feverish.

“I am asking you to marry me.”

“Mr. Sheridan, Christopher, you are fevered and you don’t know what you
’re saying.  You are married already.”

“Why would you think that?”  He looked a little confused, making Louisa wonder if she had been wrong.

“I didn’t mean to read it, but it fell out of the book.  There was a letter from your wife.” 

“My wife is dead,
Mistress Jamison.  That was the last letter she ever wrote to me.  There was an outbreak of Black Death that spring and she was infected, as was my mother.  I’ve been a widower for two years.”

“I
’m terribly sorry.  I didn’t know.  I assumed she was waiting for you at home.  Please forgive me.”  Louisa felt ashamed of herself, first for snooping, and second for jumping to conclusions. 

“There is nothing to forgive, which brings us back to my question.”

Charles felt growing unease as the sun began to make its ascent into the June sky.  The forest was still shrouded in shadow, darkness pooling between the trees and in shallow depressions, but the tips of the trees were already bathed in the pink glow of the coming dawn.  He had been searching all night, and he was bone-tired and hungry.  Charles hadn’t fully realized until last night just how much he loved his cousin.  Finn could be annoying and whiny sometimes, but he was Finlay’s son and that made him special. 

Charles had adored his older brother
, and wanted nothing more than to be just like him when he reached manhood.  He had been the “fun brother.”  Alec was always busy with the business and his own life, devoting most of his time to Violet.  Charles hadn’t been jealous.  He loved Violet.  She had been beautiful and sweet, unlike his sister Rose, who was always crying and praying.  Finlay had already been in his teens when Charles was born, but he never treated him like a baby.  He took him hunting and fishing and taught him how to ride.  Once, he even took him into a tavern in the village. 

Then everything changed.  The bloody flux
wiped out most of the Whitfield family within a few days.  Charles lost his parents, Violet, and her newborn son, as well as several servants.  Only Finn, Alec and Rose had been spared, leaving Charles scared and bewildered.  Rose ran away to a convent, and Alec spiraled into a drink-fueled depression that only worsened his horrible grief.  Only Finn took the time to comfort the little boy and ease his terrible pain.  Charles didn’t blame Finlay for bringing him to Uncle Thomas and Aunt Lottie.  Finlay wanted what was best for him, and his aunt and uncle became his surrogate parents, until Alec and Valerie came with baby Finn. 

Charles had been overjoyed to see Alec again.  He missed both his brothers terribly, not really understanding that Finlay was gone.  He kept imagining him back at Yealm Castle, riding his spirited gelding and flirting with tavern wenches. 
Eventually, it sunk in that his beloved brother was dead, and buried in a lonely grave by the abbey ruins.  He wasn’t even in a proper cemetery.  His grave was probably overgrown with weeds and flowers, obscuring the cross bearing his name.  It had been Alec’s idea to bury him by the abbey, away from prying eyes, and people who might wish to desecrate the grave of the traitor. 

Charles
had been happy for a few years after Alec and Valerie came.  He liked Valerie, and enjoyed playing with little Finn.  He had been so adorable, toddling everywhere after Charles.  It wasn’t until one night in November when Charles had been thirteen, that he overheard the conversation that changed his life.  He wished to say goodnight to Alec and Valerie, but heard them talking and stopped outside their bedroom door.  They were speaking of Finlay.  It was the anniversary of his death, and he heard Valerie crying softly.

“Oh, Alec, I know you had to do it, but sometimes I still dream of it.  I can still see him in that horrid cell, beaten and bloody, shivering with cold.  He was just barely alive, but he was still with us.  I have dreams of you holding that coat over his face, his legs twitching and his fingers clawing at the floor, fighting death with everything he had. 
I will never forget that moment as long as I live.”  

“I dream of it too. 
May God forgive me for what I’ve done.”   Alec’s voice was very low, but Charles heard it loud and clear.  He ran to his room and was violently sick.  Alec killed Finn in the Tower.  He suffocated him until he was dead.  How was this possible?  And then Charles understood.  Alec coveted Finn’s wife.  No wonder he married her less than six months after Finn’s death.  It even said in the Bible that you shall not covet thy brother’s wife.  Alec was a murderer and a sinner, and Charles would never forgive him.  Never. He would bide his time and avenge Finlay’s death, no matter how long it took.

Charles had to learn to live with his resentment of Alec, but life wasn’t finished with him yet.  When Uncle Thomas died
, he left everything to Alec, not to Charles, who had been his ward since the age of six.  Alec had not only killed his brother, but stole his inheritance.  He was now the wealthy landowner, while Charles would have whatever Alec chose to give him.  It was time to act.

Charles had been very happy to see Valerie outside the study last night.  He meant for her to overhear his accusations.  They were both guilty and they should both pay
; one way or another.  Charles rubbed his tired eyes and continued on through the forest, calling out Finn’s name.

Valerie stood by the window, staring out into the half-light of morning, searching for any sign of movement outside.  Bridget was sound asleep in her bed, snoring lightly.  With every hour that passed Valerie felt more panicked.  Horrible scenarios ran through her head, becoming more vivid with every passing minute.  Oh, how she wished she had the Sight now.  She would know exactly where to look for her son.  Valerie rubbed her eyes with her palms.  They burned with lack of sleep; her back beginning to ache from all the pacing she’d done.  Soon Louisa would be up and would start asking questions about her brother.

She also felt terrible about Alec.  She
’d sent him off last night with barely a kind word.  She’d been scared and angry, but she knew in her heart that Alec was innocent.  She knew him too well.  Even if he had strayed and slept with the girl, he would never have killed her.  Alec wasn’t a murderer.  A mercy killing was not the same as killing someone in cold blood. 

As Valerie paced her bedroom in the dead of night
, she had to ask herself the question.  Would she be able to forgive Alec if he had cheated on her?  Would she still love him and allow him to make love to her?  The answer was “yes.”  She would.  She would be hurt and angry for a long time, but she would forgive him.  She knew that she loved him so fiercely that nothing would make her stop.  She had to trust him for their marriage to survive, and she would.  She had always trusted him in the past, and her faith in him had never led her astray.  All she wanted was for him to bring Finn home and then come to her, so that she could tell him that she didn’t believe a word of Charles’s accusations.

Valerie heard the creaking of stairs as Mrs. Dolly made her way to the kitchen to start breakfast.  She
’d get dressed and go have a cup of tea while waiting.  She needed to hear the voice of another human being, and she didn’t want to wake Bridget.  Valerie slipped off her dressing gown and reached for her dress, just as something hot gushed between her legs, freezing her to the spot.  She looked down at her wet nightgown.  Oh, God.  Her water broke.

Louisa waited for Kit to fall asleep before letting herself out of his cabin and going back to her own.  Agnes was sound asleep, her hands folded across her belly.  Louisa was tired, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep.  She took off her damp dress and climbed onto her berth in her linen shift.  Her skin became instantly covered with gooseflesh, so she pulled the blanket to her chin, trying to get warm.  She smiled to herself in the darkness.  Her first marriage proposal.  The man was probably delirious with fever, but still.  She didn’t think he’d remember it in the morning.  Funny that she’d made it to almost thirty without ever being proposed to, despite the numerous guys she’d dated, and all she had to do was land in the seventeenth century to get an offer of marriage.  Is that how it had been for Valerie? 

Louisa had to reluctantly admit that the thought of marrying Kit wasn’t as unwelcome as she wanted to believe.  There was something about him that made her feel safe and desired.  It wasn’t just the physical attraction between them, and she had to admit that the attraction was definitely there, it was more than that. 

Louisa had been with Doug for years, but she always felt that he held something in reserve.  There was a part of him that was off limits.  Maybe he simply didn’t want to marry her or start a family, but he gave to her as much as he was able to give.  Louisa suspected that Kit would give all of himself once he declared his love, and would expect all of her in return.  Once, she might have found that a little off-putting, but right now it seemed like exactly the right thing.  Wasn’t that how love was supposed to be?  Maybe that’s why letting Doug go hadn’t been as painful as she’d expected.  She had held something in reserve as well, and her heart was cracked, but not broken.  She put Doug out of her mind and allowed her thoughts to return to Kit.  

Louisa closed her eyes.  She could see Kit’s face in front of her
; his eyes slightly glazed with fever, his lips so full and soft.  His stomach muscles tensed when she touched him in the course of changing his bandage, and he seemed to be holding his breath until she removed her hand from his hot skin.  Louisa wondered if he truly felt as drawn to her as she did to him.  She tried to imagine what it would be like to have him make love to her, and felt a wetness between her legs.  She wanted him –- desperately.  Louisa slid her hand slowly down her body, finding the source of her desire, and let her mind drift.  She pictured Kit’s naked body on top of hers, and what it would be like to have him inside her, moving slowly and deliberately until he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, his thrusts becoming hard and fast.  Louisa quivered as her body found release, and drifted off to sleep, still smiling.