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Warrington’s hair gleamed with the mist of seawater still on it. His coat hung open, but his shirt looked crisp underneath.
The three of them were nestled in the cabin so tight they could reach out an arm and touch the others.
‘I believe I’ve wrenched my shoulder,’ Warrington said. ‘I need Melina’s care.’
The captain kept his injured leg motionless in front of him. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak. He shook his head at Warrington in an arrogant wobble. She moved to leave and Warrington turned to follow her.
‘Stay a moment, War, I need to talk to you,’ Ben said.
‘I’ve better things to do than listen to a man who lies about drinking brandy all day.’ His eyes were chips of coal. ‘Much better things.’ He looked at Melina.
‘I know. But it won’t kill you to spare a few minutes with your brother.’
‘Might not be so good for you, however.’
Warrington opened the door, standing aside. Melina moved to step out, but when she passed Warrington, his hand caught her waist and he stopped her movement.
When she looked into his eyes, nothing light looked back at her. But he brushed at a lock of her hair, leaving a trail of warmth she could feel to her toes. ‘If my brother is tiring you too much, Melina, you don’t have to assist him. Stubby can.’
She saw the intensity in his eyes, and more behind it, and gave the barest of nods. ‘I’m well with it.’
He snorted in response, but handed her gently out through the door. ‘Rest, sweet.’ His voice caressed. ‘I don’t want you overtired.’
As the door closed, she heard the captain’s muttered comment to his brother. ‘Arse Hat.’ She didn’t understand Warrington’s reply exactly. She didn’t think she’d ever heard the word before.
* * *
Inside the captain’s quarters Warrington glared impatiently at his brother. ‘I’m not letting you keep her from me any longer. I only have scant time left with her.’
‘I would never get between a man and his sweetheart.’ Ben’s eyes half closed. ‘I am merely a weak younger brother, not as strong as you, and I need help getting back on my feet.’
‘Having a bed that smells of a woman’s warmth, and no woman in it, is not doing me any good.’
‘You’ll survive.’ Ben stretched, gingerly, keeping his movements slow. ‘But I know where I saw her. I remembered.’ Then he let the room fall into silence.
Warrington remained on his feet. ‘Tell me or not, I’m leaving.’ He wasn’t letting Ben trap him into a long discussion. He had better ways to spend his time. One way in particular.
‘Somerset House. A painting.’ Ben touched his chest. ‘The spot. I remember the spot on the girl. The painting captured the mark. Odd to leave a blemish and I noticed it more than her face. At the time I decided the artist added it to make his painting different.’
Warrington waved away the words. ‘Any artist would want to capture her.’
‘War.’ Ben shook his head. ‘She has ties to England. Ties we don’t know about. She speaks too well. And she has some piece of marble you say she believes she has to get to London.’ He waved a hand. ‘Probably has a man she’s going to. Using the stone as an excuse.’
‘If she has a man in England, all the better.’ Warrington spoke with authority. He only needed Melina long enough to get the past behind him. To get over his foolishness of letting his lust control his mind. No, that wasn’t what he needed to stop. He needed to stop letting his foolish heart control his actions. Lust was much safer than love.
When he returned to Whitegate, he’d have no time for a woman while he took back his duties. He wanted to teach Jacob about the country estate. And Warrington would be travelling back and forth to London after taking his seat in Parliament.
Someone knocked. A double thump, pause and double thump on the door let Warrington know Stubby stood outside. He opened the door without taking his eyes off Ben while Stubby bounded in.
‘Melina will be on her own soon after we dock. She thinks the cracked rock is a treasure of some sort and will earn funds,’ Warrington said. ‘She’s wrapped the thing in cloth and it stays under the berth. She put my second pair of trousers around it and has the stone secured tight. Has a bit of rope tying the parcel snug to the edge.’
Ben shook his head. ‘You’ve seen it. Does it look like it could sell?’
Warrington didn’t take his hand from the door. ‘No. It’s cracked badly. I’ve no idea why she decided it valuable.’ He held his arm out, moving his fingers into a grasping position. ‘It’s an arm shaped like this. One of the fingers is broken off, as well. Just an arm. Should be tossed in a dust bin. Like your collections you’ve stored around the town house.’
