Page 18 of Pride of Duty
Willa was unconvinced. She sat trembling for a long series of moments, afraid to lie down, in case he changed his mind and let the animal side of his personality take over. After a few moments, the only sounds emanating from the other side of the bed were deep breathing and occasional short, whuffing, snoring sounds.
She must have sat up for at least an hour, torn between fearing Cullen would force her into something she didn’t want and wondering why she hadn’t inspired the man’s natural, blind lust.
Finally, she fell back onto her pillow to stare into the darkness for another hour or two.
Cullen woke early and hastened to the wash basin in the corner behind the screen, hoping to finish his ablutions and dress before his “bride” awakened and started in again with her havey-cavey notions about overly sexed Highlanders. “And you’re no help,” he muttered, in the general direction of the cockstand making a tent out of his nightshirt.
He and Fergus had planned a small wedding breakfast at the inn as a surprise treat for Willa before they had to return to the ship. He’d sent invitations the night before to his old friend, Captain Arnaud Bellingham, and his wife Sophie; Sophie’s friend, Lady Lydia Howick; Lydia’s unofficial beloved, Marine Captain George Neville; and the ever-jaunty Irish bachelor, Marine Lieutenant Richard Bourne. And although Cullen had hesitated at first, he’d finally sent an invitation to Captain Still of theArethusa. He’d hoped maybe the man’s presence would provide a familiar face for Willa.
He and his mates had all served together on various ships over the years and had survived the 1816 Battle of Algiers with Lord Exmouth, Admiral Pellew. All of his former comrades were still in Portsmouth, getting their prize ship, theBlack Condor, ready to return to duty off the west coast of Africa.
Cullen quickly buttoned and buckled himself into the Royal Navy dress blues he’d been married in the night before. He stepped outside the screen and gazed down on the new Mrs. Cullen MacCloud asleep in their bed. He noticed a long, patrician nose he’d overlooked before, since he’d never managed to get past those glorious gray eyes, dark lashes and expressive, bird-like brows. Her eyes remained closed in deep sleep, the dark smudges below telltales of a night of little sleep.
He smiled a cat-like grin. So she’d suffered as much as he had? Good. Served her right. He’d lain awake early that morning a good two hours, painfully aware of the soap clean scent of the warm woman lying on the other side of their “wall.” He’d had a lengthy debate with his baser self, trying to rationalize a good reason to eliminate the barrier. He’d finally settled on just watching her sleep, leaning on one elbow, while the dawn gradually slipped through the lace-curtained window.
Now, he reached down and touched her shoulder, shook her a bit until her eyes opened and obliterated the memory of the carefully crafted speech he’d practiced. All he could manage was, “The innkeeper’s wife will be in soon to help you dress. You have a surprise waiting downstairs.” With that, he pulled on his Hessians, hurried out of the room, and clattered down the steps.
Willa had no idea what Dr. MacCloud’s idea of a “surprise” would entail, but she had to confess, she was curious. When she opened the door to the private dining room they’d been using, she faced a festive breakfast table surrounded by a sea of strangers in Royal Navy blues and two of their women, who were plying her with warm, smiling expressions.
And there at the head of the table was Captain Still, her former commanding officer on theArethusa. The last words they’d exchanged, she’d resigned from the ship and bid him good-bye as Wills Morton. Now she stood before him as Willa MacCloud. Was there any rule of etiquette that could possibly apply to this situation? Captain Still solved her dilemma for her when he stood and advanced to her side, taking her in his arms for a long embrace.
“I am so grateful you’ve found a good man to take care of you, Willa.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Your father would have been so proud and happy for the decision you’ve made.”
She suddenly felt as though she didn’t know what to do with her hands and feet and had no idea what she’d say to the two women still beaming encouraging smiles her way.
She was glad she’d let the seamstress talk her into taking several extra dresses that had been abandoned by other customers, including the fine pink striped dimity she’d chosen for her debut as Dr. MacCloud’s wife. She’d also given the woman instructions for several serviceable, plain dark work dresses she’d need for her shipboard duties.
All of the men rose and bowed toward her. When Cullen started formal introductions, she could tell from the tone of his voice what close friends the men were. Captain Bellingham’s wife, Sophie, a beautiful, pale young woman, came toward her with arms outstretched and enfolded her in a warm embrace. “You are a very lucky woman,” she whispered into her ear. “It looks like Dr. MacCloud solved the riddle of who you really are. You have nothing to fear. He is a good man who will love and protect you with his very life.”
“Thank you,” Willa mouthed, and must have had a look of a concern on her face for Sophie’s paleness.
“Incinta.” Sophie blushed and reverted to her father’s tongue.
Willa nodded. Over the many years at her father’s side in his travels with the Royal Navy, she’d learned a bit of the Italian tongue. Pregnancy, in the early stages, would explain Sophie’s wan appearance.
Sophie’s husband, Arnaud, must have been close enough to hear the whispered exchange. “If he gives you any trouble at all, send word to one of us, and we will thump him into submission.” The twinkle in his intensely blue eyes belied his stern warning and spoke of the affection among the men. The protective arm he wrapped around his wife’s shoulders before returning to the table said even more about the bond between them.
Willa had resented Cullen replacing her father and had stubbornly resisted his governance in the surgery aboard theArethusa. After he and his family had pressured her into a marriage of convenience, she’d been prepared to hate him. But now, in the presence of his fellow crewmen who obviously loved and respected him, her feelings were harder to justify.
Sophie’s friend, Miss Lydia Howick, stepped forward and took both of her hands. “You are a very special lady to lead the charmed life of belonging to one of the men of the squadron. And I am so envious of how much you know about medicine. Dr. MacCloud should be over the moon to have you as his partner.”
Willa bit back a smile when she contrasted Miss Howick’s breathy, non-stop chatter with the stoic young naval man at her side who had been introduced as Captain George Neville, head of the Royal Marine contingent aboard Captain Bellingham’s ship. Even though Lydia and Captain Neville were very different in temperament, the affection they shared warmed the air around them, like a bright brazier full of coals on a winter’s eve.
Willa reflected on the chasm between herself and the other women. She would be spending the next few years in service at the St. Helena station at her husband’s side. Would she and Cullen continue their formal, collegial relationship, or would they become something more to each other? She reached down into a well of conflicting emotions gnawing at her insides. Her own heart had become an infernal mystery.
Whereas, the other two women clearly were already dreading the day when their men would have to return to sea…without them.
Cullen sat next to his unbending bride and wondered. He wondered how his life could have been completely upended in the course of a few weeks. He wondered how the tall, slender creature next to him with the mesmerizing gray eyes had slept in the tiny surgeon’s cabin aboard the Arethusa without him ever suspecting what lay across the scant few feet between their bunks.
It was hard to grasp the idea that he was now married to a woman who might never share a bed with him, yet made it impossible for him to bed any other woman, either. His old devil-may-care life had come crashing down in the blink of an eye.
Chapter Nine
Captain Arnaud Bellinghamsat across from Miss Lydia Howick and his Marine Captain George Neville in the comfort of the Howick family carriage. Miss Howick made frequent trips from London to Portsmouth laden with food and provisions for the newlywed Bellinghams, a flimsy ruse for also seeing more of Captain Neville before he left for a long tour of duty off the coast of West Africa.
Next to him, Sophie patted Arnaud’s arm and smiled at her old friend, Lydia. “What a lovely breakfast Dr. MacCloud’s kinsman managed for us in such a short period of time.”
“Does anyone know what happened to cause this sudden union in the middle of the night? I have to confess I always thought Dr. MacCloud was a confirmed, fusty old bachelor.” Lydia, as usual, was spilling everything in her head out through her mouth.