When his small group reached the docks, Will was surprised to find the hull of the Whitecliffs’ boat painted a bright cherry red, as were the three masts. And, although it vaguely resembled the schooner he’d come across on, it was much more elaborate, with a raised deck and several port-windows on the aft third of the vessel. He glanced at Eugénie. “Red?”
Her eyes lit with laughter. “It resembled another ship and had been stopped a couple of times by the English frigates. Since red is Mrs. Whitecliff’s favorite color, that’s what he decided to paint it. He hasn’t had any problems since.”
“I suppose not.”
Andrew waved from the deck, smiling. He came down and helped get the children up the gangboard where their hosts awaited his coterie. Mrs. Whitecliff showed them to a large cabin which had been built on the main deck, but set flush against the upper deck. It was fashioned into a combination dining room and parlor. Cabinets lined the inner wall holding books and china. Windows filled the other three sides, allowing a breeze to enter. The room was protected from the elements by louvered shutters now open and secured to the walls.
A maid scurried in with tea. Josh followed with butter, jams, bread, meats, and cheeses.
“Please,” Mrs. Whitecliff said, “we will not stand on ceremony. Help yourselves. My husband assures me we will be in Tortola before dark.”
“Dark?” Will’s jaw dropped. “But I was told it wasn’t far.”
“If we could sail in a straight line it would not be,” Eugénie said, taking a cup of tea from Cicely. “The problem is that we cannot sail against the wind. We’ll need to go around St. John and approach Tortola from the other side.”
Andrew smirked as he handed a cup to Will, and said under his breath, “I hopeyousleep well to-night.”
He was stopped from retorting by Eugénie offering him a plate of food. “Would you like this one?”
“Thank you, my love, but I’ll fix my own. I imagine you’re hungry.” He’d not planned to spend this night alone. Surely, even aboard the ship, there must be a way to keep Eugénie with him.
“Thank you, I am starving.” She paused, and tilted her head. “You’d better hurry. The children are on their way.”
Sure enough, her three sisters burst into the room a moment later.
“I’m hungry,” Jeanne announced to no one in particular.
“You’re always hungry.” Valérie held the plate away from the younger girl.
Miss Penny’s brows rose. “You may make your sister a plate, Valérie. Adelaide, wait your turn. Neither Miss Whitecliff nor Mr. Grayson has eaten yet.”
“I do apologize, my lord.” The governess pushed a strand of hair aside. “The girls actually have broken their fast, but there appears to be something about eating on a boat that intrigues them.” She turned her attention back to the children, just as Valérie reached across the table and snatched a roll. “If you cannot behave up here, I have school-work you can do in the cabin below.”
That did the trick. The three of them settled at a small table and ate quietly. William held out a piece of cheese to Eugénie. “Soon we’ll have children.”
“I hope ours are better behaved.” She took the cheese and nibbled.
“I’m afraid there is no chance of that. All Wivenly children are heathens.” He grinned. “Ours will be the worst of all. You can’t tell me you didn’t run rings around your governess and parents.” He leaned toward Eugénie, capturing her gaze, lowering his voice. “They’ll have your dark hair.”
“And your blue eyes.” She smiled at him. Her eyes danced with laughter as she glanced at her sisters. “We’ll need more servants to keep track of them.”
“At least two maids for each one.”
Her small pink tongue peeped out as she licked some jam from her lips, and his body tightened with desire for her. There must be some way for them to be alone, if only for a quarter hour. After that, he’d give some thought to this evening. “Speaking of servants, where is your maid?”
“Probably in my stateroom hanging my gowns.” Desire flickered in Eugénie’s eyes. “Where is your Tidwell?”
“Most likely doing the same.”
“You know”—her breathing quickened—“the way out of the harbor is very interesting for many people.”
“Perhaps”—Will’s member hardened in agreement with the conversation—“we should suggest that your maid and my valet would like to view our departure from the deck.”
Sun peeked over the hills to the east, and the captain called for the dock lines to be cast off.
Eugénie set her plate on the side table. “I think, my love, that is one of your better ideas.”
She didn’t know exactly what William had planned, but she was sure she’d like it. After he’d left this morning, she’d missed the comfort of his body, and the way he caressed her as they talked, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. That strange throbbing at her core began again. She stood. “Wait until you see my maid go on deck.”
