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Ben kept his eyes closed and talked, barely moving his lips. ‘I guess expecting a soft old earl to be able to sail is daft.’
‘I’d better get to the helm.’ Warrington took his hand from Ben’s shoulder, still smiling. ‘Since Captain Lackbeard looks to lie about all day.’
‘Remember,’ Ben said, ‘keep the masts to the sky. The hull side to the water.’
‘I’ll do what I can.’
‘So will I.’ Ben’s brows rose. ‘I will rest here and look at Melina all day to ease my suffering.’ His head didn’t turn, but he glanced sideways. ‘Would you give me a drop of brandy, sweetness?’
She rose, which caused her to brush Warrington. He gave a haughty smile to his brother. Then Warrington reached around Melina. His hand was firm at her side and the quick motion surprised her. She stumbled against him.
His lips closed over hers before she expected it. Her heart pounded warm blasts throughout her body. The taste of him was not something she could name, but the flavour of strength and warm male.
He pulled back and kept his hand at her waist while he spoke to his brother. His voice had challenge in it. ‘Take care, little brother. Don’t test me on this. Or you will get truly hurt.’
* * *
For days, Melina knew she had less sleep than the seamen while she cared for the captain. She’d not known a person could complain so. He had her searching his cabin for a silver toothpick once, as if his very life depended on it, and then he remembered he’d lost the shining bit on a different voyage.
The captain would send her in search of a sailor he wanted to speak to and she’d find the man at the very spot Captain Ben mentioned, doing exactly what he had expected. Even Warrington did as commanded.
Gidley would sometimes stop to check on Captain Ben, and invariably, the captain would send her on a task. He’d need a biscuit, or for her to take a question to a crew member—she suspected the duties unnecessary ones so he could talk privately with the first mate.
The captain was keeping Warrington from the cabin when she was in it, or else Warrington had no wish to be inside if she was there. She was too tired to sort her thoughts.
They only passed each other briefly, an impossible occurrence—unless planned. From the humour in Ben’s face, and the glare in Warrington’s, she didn’t think it the earl’s suggestion.
She’d seen Warrington on the ropes once or twice, with his lean legs scurrying up the rigging. She’d been wrong about him—he could climb the ratlines as well as the others. Perhaps better as he’d kept himself balanced using his legs while he worked.
Almost as soon as Melina reached her cabin and fell upon the pallet, she heard a tap on her door and forced herself upright. A voice through the wood told her the captain requested her.
She stood, pushing at the knot of her hair, pulling at her skirt to straighten it, and left the room. The cabin boy waited. If she’d dallied longer, he would have knocked more insistently. ‘I think I have stolen your job,’ she told him when she walked through the doorway.
His bruised face burst into a smile. ‘I be fine with it. Won’t be long till I be an able-bodied seaman. Gid says I have some growin’ left, but I’ll get that done quick enough and be taller ’n him.’
She found a shirtless Ben sitting in his bed, a map sprawled around him. He looked up at her when she entered.
He hadn’t worn a shirt since he’d been injured and his side had darkened more, leaving a yellowish cast around the bruising. She heard the ship’s bell. Warrington would be leaving his post. The captain grinned. He rolled up the papers, his hands moving slowly and with excessive care. Finally he tipped the cylinder in her direction. She put it in the cabinet. ‘I’ll try sitting in the chair for a while. Lend a hand,’ he said. He put his palm to the bruise.
‘It would be better if Warrington or the men helped you. Your weight is too heavy for me,’ she answered.
‘They move me about like a potato sack.’ He stretched out his naked arm, rubbing the muscle. ‘I’m sure you’ll do just fine.’
She scooted the chair several inches closer, leaving enough room for him to stand beside the bed before sitting.
She let the captain’s weight shift on to her, and helped him to the chair. Just as he was pulling his arm from around her neck, Warrington walked in. She supposed an earl never knocked when entering his brother’s quarters—at least one didn’t.
The captain slid his arm back to Melina’s shoulders and took a bit more time righting himself.
