He grinned sheepishly and surrendered the wheel. While she swung the wheel, halting at the usual positions, he checked that the rudder responded freely and swung to the correct angle.
By the time they were done, Royd was calling for the lines to be cast off. He strode down the deck and came up the ladder in rapid time. Straightening, he saw her standing behind the wheel.
She savored his blink of surprisethen she stepped aside and gestured to the vacated position. Your wheel is yours, Captain.
He cast her a look as he strode forward, but the instant his hand touched the polished oak, his focus shifted. One glance confirmed that the lines had been freed. He glanced at Stewart as he came to stand by the rail on the other side of the wheel. Very well, Mr. Stewartlets get under way.
Stewart grinned. Aye, aye, Captain.
Isobel gripped the rail and watched as, with Stewart acting as his spotter, Royd eased The Corsair from her berth, working with only a jib.
As he feathered past the ships anchored in the basin, he called up more sail, but gave the canvas only enough play to have the hull gliding forward. Then they were through the narrows and turned, and the mouth of the Dee lay ahead, unobstructed by any other vessel, and Royd called for full mainsails. Topsails and topgallants followed in rapid order, then he called for the royals...and the ship lifted.
Literally lifted as the wind caught the unfurling sails and powered the vessel on.
Feeling the wind buffeting her bonnet, Isobel pushed it back so it lay across her nape, the better to appreciate the ineluctable thrill of speed.
And yet more speed as the skysails unfurled.
She listened with half an ear to the rapid-fire instructions as this sail was drawn in, that eased, and the ship, now well out from the shore, heeled to the south.
She couldnt stop smiling.
As he had several times since theyd left the wharf, Royd glanced at Isobels facelet his eyes drink in the sheer joy displayed there, openly, for anyone to see. Emotionally, it was like looking into a mirror; this was something theyd always shared and patently still didthis love of the sea, of racing over the waves, of harnessing the wind and letting it have them.
Yet another strand in the net that still linked them.
Usually on a voyage, after steering the ship past the river mouth and into the ocean swells, once he felt the hull riding smoothly and was satisfied with the set of the sails, he would hand the wheel over to Liam, who normally stood the first watch from port. Today, when his lieutenant sent him a questioning look, he shook his head and remained where he was, with his hands on the wheel and Isobel beside him.
When she sailed with him during the testing of their improvements, she rarely stood anywhere near him; if she came up to the stern deck, she would stand at one rear corner where, from his position at the wheel, he couldnt see her.
So although shed sailed with him often in recent years, this was different. He wanted to prolong the moment, to wallow in the connection, in the shared passion that still linked them, in the magic that still reached to their souls. To experience again the mutuality of the sensitivity that had them glorying at the feel of the wind in their hair and of the deck surging beneath their feet.
She didnt look at himhe would have felt her gazeso he looked at her frequently. He drank in her delight and felt the same joy move through himand felt closer to her than he had in years.
Patently, this element of their togetherness was still there, alive and very real, strong, and apparently immutable.
If this aspect of their long-ago connectionthe plethora of shared needs and desires that had urged them to the altar and seen them handfastedhad survived the years unchanged...what else remained?
He had to wonderand wonder, too, about the past eight years of being so very definitely apart.
Why had she turned from him?
And why had he allowed it?
The latter wasnt a question that had occurred to him before, yet...standing alongside her again, aware of all he felt for her still, it was a valid question.
Eventually, their tack took them farther from land, and he reluctantly brought the magical moment to an end. With a few words, he surrendered the wheel to Liam, stepped back, and turned to Isobel.
Instinctively, Isobel swung to face Royd; her senses leapt, and she realized remaining close had been a tactical error...then again, wasnt this what she wanted? To explore what remained between them, put whatever that was into some more mundane context, and, hopefully, cauterize her ridiculous sensitivity to his nearness. She couldnt retrain her senses if she didnt allow herself to dally close to him.
That said...she pushed away from the railing. Perhaps someone can show me to my cabin? From long experience, she knew that the only way to deal with Royd was not just to keep the reins in her hands but to use them.
His face was always well-nigh inscrutable; she could read nothing from his expression as he inclined his head. Of course. He waved her to the ladder.
She walked across, turned, and went quickly down.
He followed and dropped lightly to the deck beside her.
Shed assumed he would summon one of his menhis steward, Bellamy, for instanceand consign her into their care. Instead, he stepped to the companionway hatch, pulled it open, and waved her down. Ive moved my things out of the stern cabin. Its yours for the duration.
Thank you. With a haughty dip of her head, she went down the stairs. She stepped into the corridor and started toward the stern. What cabin are you using?
Having worked on The Corsair over the past years, she knew the ships layout. Unlike most vessels of this class, Royds personal ship had fewer cabins, but each cabin was larger; his captains cabin took up the entire width of the stern and was unusually deep.
Ive taken the cabin to the right.
The captains cabin had doors connecting to the cabins on either side, creating a multi-roomed stateroom. Shed gathered such spaciousness and the luxurious fittings were a reflection of the quality of passenger Royd occasionally ferried to and fro; he rarely did anything without calculation and some goal in mind.
She walked unhurriedly along the corridor, striving to appear entirely unaware, even though, with him prowling at her heels in the confined space, her every nerve was alert and twitching.
Clearly, she had a long way to go to eradicate her Royd sensitivity.
The door to the stern cabin neared, and she slowed. Then she stiffened as, in one long stride, Royd closed the distance between them, reached past her, grasped the knob, and sent the door swinging wide.
Ignoring the warmth washing over her back, tamping down her leaping nerves, she inclined her head in thanks and swept through the door.
Her gaze landed on the figure kneeling on the window seat.
She halted.
Hed been staring out at the dwindling shoreshe raised her gaze and saw the last sight of land vanishing into the sea mistbut hed turned his head and was looking at her.
Panic gripped. Hard.
Every iota of air left her lungs. She swung on her heel, slammed both palms to Royds chest, and tried to shove him back so he wouldnt see...
Too late.
Hed halted in the doorway. He didnt move, didnt shift an inch. One glance at his face confirmed that he was staring across the cabin, transfixed.
Her pulse hammered. Unable tonot daring toshift her gaze from his face, she watched as realization dawned, as he grasped the secret shed hidden from him for the past eight years...then shock stripped all impassivity from him.
He dropped his gaze to hers. Furyfuryburned in his eyes.
Mingled with utter disbelief.
She couldnt breathe.
Through the roaring in her ears, she heard the thump as Duncans feet hit the floor.
Mama?
Royds breath caught, and he wrenched his gaze from hers. He looked across the room, then his eyes narrowed, his features set, and he looked back at her.
She stared into his eyes. So many emotions roiled and clashed in the gray...anger, accusation, hurt. She couldnt take them all in.
Her senses wavered, then swam. Her vision grayed...
Royd was already reeling when Isobels lids fell, and her head tipped back, and she started to crumple
With a muttered oath, he caught her. It took a second for him to register that she truly had fainted, that she was limp and unconscious. Hed never known her to faint beforepanic spiked and swirled into the cauldron of emotions surging through him.
He juggled her, then hoisted her into his arms and straightened.
He felt as if he was swaying, but the sensation owed nothing to the motion of his ship.
A rush of footsteps neared. What did you do to her? The boy skidded to a halt an arms length away. He looked up at Royd, sparks and daggers flashing from eyes that were all Isobel, his young face paleIsobel-palebut his jaw setting in a way Royd recognized. Fists clenching, the boy glared up at him. Let her go.
The command thrumming in the words was recognizable, too.
Royd dragged in a breath. Looking into a face so like his own was only adding to his disorientation. She fainted. At present, that was the most critical issue. He hefted her more securely against his chest. We should lay her down.
The boys glare barely eased. Oh. He glanced around. Where?
The bed. Royd nodded to the bed hidden behind its hangings. Draw back the curtains.
The boy rushed to do so; he grabbed handfuls of the heavy tapestry fabric and hauled the curtains to the beds head and foot, revealing the sumptuously plump mattress and large pillows.
Royd knelt on the bed and laid Isobel down with her head and shoulders on the pillows. Hed never dealt with a fainted female before, and that it was Isobel only added to his near panic. He undid the ribbon holding her bonnet in place, then raised her head, pulled the now-crushed bonnet from under her, and flung it aside. He eased her back to the pillows, loosened the ties of her cape, then smoothed her hair back from her face.
She didnt wake.
The boy scrambled up from the foot of the bed and crawled to kneel on her other side. He peered at her face. Mama?
Royd sat on the side of the bed. He picked up her hand, drew off her glove, then chafed her hand between his; hed seen someone do that somewhere.
The boy studied what Royd was doing, then picked up Isobels other hand, tugged off her glove, and roughly rubbed her hand between his own. His gaze locked on her face as if willing her to wake.
Royd found his gaze drawn to the boys face, his profile, but the strangeness of looking at himself at an earlier age was too confounding. He forced his gaze to Isobel. He frowned. Does she often faint?
The boys lips set. He shook his head. Ive never seen her do this before. And the grandmothers have never said anything, and they yammer about such things all the time.
Grandmothers, plural. Royd made a mental note to investigate that later.
Will she be all right? The boys quiet words held a wealth of anxiety.
Royd wanted to reassure him, but wasnt sure what he should say. Or do. After flailing through the clouds of distraction in his mind, he reached for Isobels wrist, checked her pulse, and found it steady and strong. Relief flooded him. Her heartbeats steady. I doubt theres anything seriously wrong.
The boy had watched what hed done, but wasnt sure...
Here. Let me show you. Royd reached across and lifted Isobels hand from the boys. He traced the vein showing through her fine skin. Put your fingertips just there. Press a little and youll be able to feel her heart beating.
He waited while the boy tried; the lads face cleared as he felt the reassuring thud of his mothers heart. Whats your name?
The boy glanced briefly his way. Duncan.
Royd forced himself to nod as if that wasnt an earth-shattering revelation. The firstborn sons of the Frobishers bore one of three names in rotationFergus, Murgatroyd, and Duncan.
He let his gaze skate over the ladall long skinny limbs and knobbly knees, gangly like a colt. Hed been the same; so had Isobel. How old are you?
Ill be eight in October.
He could have guessed that, too.
He looked at Isobels still-unresponsive face. He had so many questions for her, he could barely think of where to start. But first...what did one do to revive a woman who had fainted? I dont have any smelling salts. Bellamy might have some somewhere, but Isobel would hate the crew learning of such uncharacteristic weakness. A cold cloth on her forehead might help. He rose, crossed to the washstand, and dipped a small towel in the pitcher. After wringing most of the water from the cloth, he returned to the bed. Duncan helped him drape the cold compress across Isobels brow.
Royd stood back and watched. Duncan sat back on his ankles, waiting expectantly.
Isobel didnt stir.
Lets try raising her feet. Royd grabbed two of the extra pillows and handed them to Duncan. Ill lift her anklesyou push those underneath.
Once that was done, they waited another minute, but Isobel remained comatose.
Royd frowned. Im certain shes only fainted. Shed been so stunned, so shocked, to find Duncan there. He looked at the boy. Shes safe hereshe cant roll out of the bed. It was a ships bed; it had raised sides. I suggest we leave her to recover in peace. Meanwhile, we can get some air.
He needed to breathe. Deeply. He needed to feel the wind in his face, to let it blow the fog from his mind.
Then he needed to grapple with the reality of the son he hadnt known he had.
At the mention of getting some air, Duncans attention had deflected to him. You mean go up on deck?
Royd held his sons gazeso much like Isobels. Youre too young to go into the rigging, so yeson deck.
For a second, Duncan wavered; he looked at Isobel again, then he shuffled back down the bed and hopped off. He straightened and tugged the short jacket he wore into place.
After one last glance at Isobel, Royd led the way to the door.
Duncan trailed after him.
When he reached the door, Royd glanced around and saw Duncan staring back at the bed.
She will be all right, wont she? he asked.
Is she often ill? Royd would have wagered on the answer being no.
Hardly ever.
Well, then. He opened the door and led the way out. Lets leave her to rest. More quietly, he added, Perhaps she needs it.
She was going to need to be very wide awake when next he got her alone.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, among other startling revelations, Royd had learned that this was Duncans maiden voyage. Small wonder he was so eager to see and try everything. Royd had taken him up to the stern deck and reclaimed the wheel, to Duncans transparent delight. He clung to the forward railing, peering down the deck and peppering Royd with questions.