Page 46 of Across the Star-Kissed Sea (Proper Romance Regency #1)

May

T his is madness,” I muttered as I scurried down the street to the harbor after Mrs. Peyton.

The thick canvas trousers bunched between my legs as I ran.

I had to pull up the hems like a gown to keep from tripping, which was much harder to do with two separate legs rather than one continuous skirt.

“Won’t he recognize you like this?” She and the captain had, after all, met when she’d been similarly dressed as a boy.

Mrs. Peyton didn’t spare me a glance. “I’m not planning on running into him until it’s too late for him to take me back.

” She didn’t seem uncomfortable at all in her wide-legged petticoat breeches and bulky gansey sweater that mostly hid her belly.

She hadn’t had to do anything with her hair but pull a knit cap over it.

Dark curls—the remnants of the style I’d fixed this morning—peeked out from underneath the cap’s brim, making her look like étienne.

My own hair thumped against my back with each step.

I hadn’t braided it as nicely as Elias could have, but it made a passable sailor’s queue once I’d wrapped it in black silk ribbon.

It felt so strange to be out in public with my hair like this, and I prayed each person we passed took us for ship’s boys rather than seeing through our disguises.

One thing I knew for certain—when Elias found me like this, I would die of humiliation.

This was much worse than out-of-fashion gowns.

We plunged into the masses streaming through the dockyard, which seemed primitive compared to Portsmouth’s dockyard.

Most boats were tiny fishing vessels rather than the gargantuan first-rates and East Indiamen that rocked in Old Pompey’s harbor.

Large or small, docks always seemed to have a crowd.

I grabbed Mrs. Peyton’s arm; otherwise, I had no doubt I’d lose her among the fishermen.

Only a few we passed looked to be Royal Navy seamen.

“Isn’t your husband going to be furious that you put yourself in danger?” I asked. Would he blame me for not stopping her? No, of course he wouldn’t. He respected his wife’s intelligence more than that.

“If we stay below, I’ll be safe enough. Plenty of women have gone to war at sea in my condition,” she said, scanning the water.

“And the French like to take their prizes as intact as possible so they can restock their supply of ships. They aim for the masts so as to disable without excessively damaging their prizes.”

“And the British?” We stopped. Nearby, a lanky sailor waved from a little rowboat barely visible above the dock.

Mrs. Peyton shrugged. “We like to win.” She pulled me toward the boat.

I hung back. “I’ve already put you in too much trouble as it is. If I help you do this ...”

She fixed me with a steady gaze. “Do you want to be there for them or stay here waiting and worrying if we’ll ever see them whole and alive again?”

There was really only one answer. And Mrs. Peyton didn’t wait for a response. She climbed over the edge and into the boat.

“What took you so long, Taylor?” The seaman didn’t offer her a hand but let her clamber into the vessel on her own.

“I came as soon as I could sneak away, just like you told me to.” It took me a second to recognize the light hair and slight whistle in his speech.

Fitz. He should have known better than to let a woman in her condition .

.. Well, I supposed a woman of her condition technically shouldn’t run down hillsides and sneak onto ships either.

I’d excuse his manners this once. “The handsome cabin boy in the flesh,” he said, resting his arms against the handles of the oars. “Busy powderin’ your nose?”

“Stow it, Fitz,” Mrs. Peyton growled with more authority than I’d ever heard from her.

I climbed down after her, and the boat wobbled under my weight. I seized the sides with a yelp, earning me a smirk from Fitz.

“Don’t move, Byam,” he said as he set the oars in place. I glared back. It wasn’t my fault the boat was tipsy and we’d been on land for almost a month.

Fitz rowed us out into the glistening waves, haphazardly steering the boat through the maze of fishing vessels.

The colorful shore, with its waving palms and red-and-white buildings, receded.

The farther we strayed from the dock, the more the uncertainty in my chest grew. We were heading for battle.

Elias

Night was closing in as we pulled near the Portuguese merchantman with its green-and-white-striped ensign.

The island of Lissa had faded to a dark shadow on the northern horizon, and even though I had left May on the opposite coast from the one in my view, I could not help looking back.

She’d seemed so reserved when the captain and I had gone to say our goodbyes.

I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything different after what had transpired at our last meeting, but it was unlike her usual energetic temperament I missed.

“That’s Lieutenant McDougall on the forecastle,” the captain said, lowering his telescope.

I dropped my gaze to my book and made note of the sunset time with my pencil.

Captain Peyton had asked me to take notes of everything on this chase to enter into the log later.

I had a mind that he didn’t mean notes about how far away Lissa and Miss Byam were.

Lieutenant Roddam grunted in surprise. “He can’t have made it to Malta yet. He left just before the storm. How is he back so soon?”

Peyton closed his telescope. “We’ll find out shortly. Take her southeast while we wait for Captain Maxwell’s signal.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain and lieutenant left to change the Marianne ’s course, but I remained at my position near the bow.

Captain Maxwell pulled the Alceste , a larger frigate than ours, alongside the Portuguese merchantman.

To starboard, the other two ships of our squadron— Active and Unité —slowed to wait for orders from Maxwell.

We were all frigates, and I hoped the Frenchmen we searched for weren’t ships of the line.

You’ll make a navy man yet, Elias.

I shook my head at the memory of my brother’s voice. It wasn’t the facts and figures that had driven me from the navy. I managed those plenty well. It was the inevitable bloodshed I didn’t have the courage for.

I told you before—I think you are very brave.

I took a slow breath, not allowing my heart to pick up speed the way it had when May had so earnestly said that to me.

Was it brave to come so close to taking your captain’s offer to shirk your responsibilities and stay safely on shore?

The only reason I hadn’t stayed was because I had feared the young woman across the room, whose eyes I had felt on my back.

How ridiculous to fear her presence more than the impending battle.

It was better for May to be ashore and for me to be at sea.

She was fulfilling her duty, and I would fulfill mine, safely away from any chance of hurting myself again.

I made another note of our course, and Lieutenant McDougall’s presence on the Portuguese ship before closing my book and pocketing my pencil.

He must have seen the French ships and made the merchantman turn around to give us warning.

That was the only valid explanation. Ships would never get to their destination if they turned around to every fancy that popped into the captain’s heart.

They had to stay their course. And so did I.

With one more look back in the direction of Lissa and my heart’s desire, I quit the forecastle and made my way down to the lonely darkness belowdecks.

May

I hadn’t minded the darkness as a child, but I’d never been on the orlop deck of a ship at night back then.

Now, as I huddled between Mrs. Peyton and a coil of rope, it was all I could do to keep from fidgeting.

If I didn’t have the deck beneath me, I wouldn’t have been able to tell which direction was up and which was down.

“Are we to sit here all night?” I whispered. Would we even be able to tell when night was over?

She shifted. “I hope not. When the crew retires, we should be able to find a more suitable spot.”

“Fitz didn’t procure us hammocks?” Of course a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy wouldn’t think of such a thing.

“There wasn’t time.”

I sighed. My heart might have thought this was a good idea, but my hips were beginning to agree with my head, that we shouldn’t have come. Cold, dank air seeped through my linen shirt and waistcoat, making me shiver. Why had we done this? I should have tried harder to convince Mrs. Peyton not to.

Somewhere above us, Elias was preparing to retire.

I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs.

He’d be mumbling in practice for his sermon as he folded his cravat neatly and packed it away.

Perhaps he’d be brewing a cup of jasmine tea in his veilleuse-théière at the gun room table while the rest of the officers readied for bed or the next watch.

A little sliver of that peaceful life he dreamed of in the turmoil of his current circumstances.

Was he thinking about me? I shouldn’t wish it, but secretly, I hoped so. What I wouldn’t give to have his greatcoat around me. Preferably with him inside too.

“Mr. Doswell seemed out of sorts today,” Mrs. Peyton whispered.

“Yes, he certainly did.” On my account. Perhaps the captain had requested his presence and he hadn’t been able to refuse.

He had not appeared keen on the visit. Then he’d chosen to witness the impending battle over staying with me, which had stung acutely.

I must have hurt him severely for him to make that choice.

“If something has happened between you, I’m sorry to hear it.”

Was it terribly obvious that we were in a position for that to matter?

Even in the cold, my face heated. If the whole crew knew about our moment watching the glowing waves, it was silly to think she had not heard of it.

I cleared my throat. “I did it to myself, so I have no one else to blame.” Would I have come to the conclusion that we were incompatible if Lewis hadn’t been an imbecile?

Something skittered in the blackness not far away, and I flinched, bumping shoulders with Mrs. Peyton. I prayed it wasn’t a rat. How much longer would we have to sit down here?

“He always seems to light up when you’re around,” the captain’s wife said. “I never saw him do that on our previous voyage.”

I didn’t know how to respond, but the warmth in my middle chased away any thought of our current discomfort.

Elias had a heart of gold to see something worthwhile through my rocky faults.

How could I let him slip away? I wasn’t vicar’s wife material, but what did that matter if he did not care?

If nothing else, I knew how to learn, to adapt, to stand my ground when the world told me to give up.

I hadn’t broken until I’d lost myself in my own misconceptions.

“He was rather quiet that voyage,” she went on. “I suppose he still is, but it has been a comfortable quiet.”

“I fear I hurt him immensely,” I said, squeezing my legs tighter against my chest.

The ship creaked. Voices filtered through the deck above us, but I couldn’t make out what they said. We were just under the gun room, so it would be officers’ conversations. Was it Elias?

“Few things are irreparable if you are willing to try,” she said.

I wasn’t so sure. Could I repair it, this damage I’d done to his heart? Not many people in my life had tried to make amends when they’d wronged me. Elias was one of the only people. Surely I could try for him.

Mrs. Peyton shivered. If only we’d been able to procure coats instead of just shirts and waistcoats.

A little whistle wound its way through the belly of the ship.

I straightened. A boatswain’s call? No, it sounded too light for that.

In a moment, I could pick out a merry tune as the sound grew louder.

Seamen didn’t whistle often, as some believed it brought bad luck.

Who would risk his shipmates’ displeasure?

It couldn’t be Fitz. He was as superstitious as any of them.

Footsteps accompanied the whistle.

“He’s coming this way,” I hissed. We couldn’t see to hide. I glanced at Mrs. Peyton and could make out the shape of her face. A moment ago, I wouldn’t have been able to see that.

I dropped my forehead to my knees. The captain couldn’t be too terribly angry when this seaman reported us, could he? Not more upset than he’d been with Lewis or me. I’d faced him once, and I could do it again. But heaven knew, the thought made my insides crawl.

A form came around the corner, and light tripped across the walls from a swinging lantern.

Mrs. Peyton and I flinched at the sudden attack on our eyes.

I blinked rapidly, and for a moment, I thought Elias had materialized.

No, this man was far too short. My frame involuntarily sagged. He had a darker complexion too.

The footsteps stopped, and the lantern moved toward us with its spears of light that made our eyes water. A low chuckle erupted from the newcomer.

“Ah, Mr. Taylor. I didn’t expect to meet you again.” The French accent was unmistakable.

“Dr. étienne,” Mrs. Peyton said.

He extended his free hand. “Perhaps you and Miss Byam would join me in rolling bandages for tomorrow’s battle.

It would be far more comfortable for someone in your condition than hiding in the cables.

” He helped Mrs. Peyton stand, then offered to assist me as well.

I rubbed my eyes, which were finally adjusting to the light, and took his hand.

He looked us both up and down, then gave a mischievous grin.

“I have no doubt there is an interesting explanation for all of this. It is good, then, that I have many bandages to roll.”