Page 46 of A Modest Independence

“You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I’m not. I should have known—”

“You are. I have it on good authority that even the strongest men have been known to succumb to seasickness on their first voyage.”

“You haven’t done.”

He moved the cloth down the slender column of her throat. She was wearing the same fine gold necklace she’d worn when they dined in Half Moon Street. It pooled between her breasts, half sticking to her skin. She was damp with perspiration, strands of auburn hair clinging to her face and neck like curling tendrils of seaweed. “It doesn’t affect everyone in the same way. A fact for which you should be grateful. Imagine if we were all ill.”

Her fingers encircled his wrist, stopping the downward progress of his hand. “Tom—”

His eyes found hers. “Would you like me to stop?”

“No, it’s just…”

“What?”

“My stupid pride.” Her words were thick with unshed tears. “I didn’t want you to see me in such a state.”

A wave of tenderness assailed him. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“I do. I look dreadful, you said. And now you’ll always remember—”

“Hush. I only said that because I was trying to rile you. To get your spirits up. The truth is…” He cleared his throat. “The truth is, you’re so beautiful I’m finding it rather difficult to look at you.”

Under other circumstances, Jenny might have blushed. He’d seen her do so several times during the course of their journey. But this time, she was too pale and weak to lose her pallor. She merely looked at him, a notch working its way between her brows as her eyes searched his. “Perhaps,” she said at last, “you need new spectacles.”

“I don’t need spectacles at all when I’m this close to someone.”

“Don’t you?”

“No.” He took them off. “There, you see. Now we’re both undressed.”

Her throat rippled in a visible swallow. “Is that what it feels like to be without them?”

“To a certain degree. I’ve worn them as long as I can remember. Without them…I suppose I feel vulnerable. Foolish of me, but there it is.”

She lifted a hand to his face and traced the bridge of his nose with her fingertip. There was a bump on the ridge. Evidence of the break he’d suffered as a boy. “How did it happen?”

“It was a very long time ago.”

“Don’t you remember?”

“What I remember is that Cheevers tried to set the break himself. Had he summoned the village doctor, I might not be the sad specimen you see before you today.”

“I think you’re very handsome.”

Tom’s heartbeat quickened, even as his mouth hitched in a wry smile. “Perhaps I’m not the only one who needs spectacles.”

The ship chose that precise instant to rise up in the water and pitch back down. Jenny’s hand abandoned his wrist and moved swiftly to cover her mouth. She stifled another groan.

Tom pressed the cloth back to her forehead. He couldn’t recall when he’d last felt so utterly useless. She was in anguish and here he was doing nothing more effective than dabbing at her face with a wet cloth. It wouldn’t do at all. He was going to have to find a way to help her acclimate.

“Don’t you feel anything?” she asked.

“Yes. Keenly. But it doesn’t affect my stomach.”

“I despise your stomach.”