Page 22 of A Captain For Clarissa
As if reading her thoughts, Rafael’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I meant no offence, my lady. I merely wish for you to be comfortable during our journey.”
“No offence taken, Captain.” She favoured him with an arch smile. “I am quite capable of looking after myself. But I appreciate your concern nonetheless.”
Rafael chuckled, a rich, melodious sound that sent a curious shiver down her spine. “Of that, I have no doubt.” He turnedback to the wheel, long fingers deftly adjusting their course. “Do you have an interest in navigation, Lady Clarissa?”
“I must confess, I find it rather fascinating.” She stepped closer, observing as he consulted the compass and made minute adjustments to the sails. “The notion that one can chart a path across the vast, unpredictable sea using only the sun and stars and a few instruments...it’s quite remarkable.”
“Indeed.” Rafael’s eyes shone with enthusiasm as he launched into an explanation of the various tools and techniques he employed. Clarissa listened raptly, marvelling at the depth of his knowledge.
How different this was from the tedious drawing room conversations she was accustomed to, all idle gossip and superficial pleasantries. With Rafael, she could engage in truly stimulating discourse, their minds sparking off one another like flint against steel.
As the sun began its lazy descent toward the horizon, painting the waves in shades of gold and orange, Clarissa found herself reluctant to return to her cabin. The company was far too agreeable.
Perhaps a few more moments basking in his presence wouldn’t be so very improper. After all, it was only natural to seek the companionship of a kindred spirit on such a lengthy voyage. And if her heart fluttered a bit more rapidly in his presence, well...surely that was merely a result of the invigorating sea air.
Yes, that must be it. For what else could it possibly be?
Rafael handed the wheel to his first mate with a nod of thanks, then turned to Clarissa with a warm smile. “Would you care to take a stroll about the deck with me, Lady Clarissa? I have been standing still too long at the wheel and would like to stretch my legs.”
Clarissa’s heart leapt at the prospect of spending more time in his company, though she endeavoured to maintain a calm exterior. “I would be delighted, Captain. Lead the way.”
As they meandered along the deck, the salt-tinged breeze whipping at their hair and clothes, Rafael inquired, “I trust you are finding your accommodations suitable? I apologize that they are not as luxurious as what you are undoubtedly accustomed to.”
“Nonsense,” Clarissa replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “After my ordeal on that dreadful corsair ship, this feels positively palatial. And the company is infinitely more agreeable.” She favoured him with a playful smile.
Rafael chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Clarissa’s stomach flutter. “I am glad to hear it. I must confess, I find our conversations most stimulating. It is a rare pleasure to discuss literature with someone as well-read and insightful as yourself.”
Clarissa flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “Speaking of literature, I have been meaning to ask you about the poetry you recited for me at the Villa Ginori. The words were so hauntingly beautiful, but I am afraid I am not familiar with the poet. Camões, was it?”
“Ah, yes.” Rafael’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Luís de Camões is considered one of the greatest poets in the Portuguese language. His epic work, ‘Os Lusíadas,’ is a masterpiece of Renaissance literature. It tells the story of Vasco da Gama’s voyage to India, intertwined with the history and mythology of Portugal.”
“How fascinating,” Clarissa murmured, intrigued. “I should very much like to read it someday, but I fear my Portuguese is woefully inadequate - indeed, non-existent!”
Rafael’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, we shall have to remedy that, won’t we? While I do not have a copy aboard, I know there is an English translation of Os Lusíadas at my home. I shall be happy to lend it to you.”
Clarissa’s heart swelled with gratitude and something deeper, something she dared not name. “I would like that very much, Captain de Silva. Thank you.”
“We could seek to remedy the other issue as well, Lady Clarissa?”
Unsure what he meant, she blinked up at him. “The other issue?”
“Your lack of Portuguese.
She laughed, the sound carried away by the gentle sea breeze. “I am an eager pupil, Captain de Silva. Teach me.”
He nodded, his expression growing more serious. “Let’s start with something simple. ‘Bom dia’ means ’good day.’”
“Bom dia,” Clarissa repeated, the foreign words feeling strange yet exciting on her tongue.
“Excellent,” Rafael praised, his eyes shining with approval. “Now, try ‘obrigado.’ It means ‘thank you.’”
“Obrigado,” she echoed, the corners of her mouth tugging upward in a smile.
They continued in this manner, Rafael patiently guiding her through the basics of his native language, Clarissa absorbing every word like a sponge. She delighted in the way the Portuguese phrases rolled off his tongue, the lilting cadence of his voice sending shivers down her spine.
They settled in a quiet spot at the bow, Clarissa seating herself on a large coil of rope with little heed for the state of her gown, Rafael leaning on the railing close by, and continued the lesson, Clarissa’s laughter occasionally spilling over as her tongue tangled on the unfamiliar words.
The sun began to set in a blaze of glory, painting the sky in a breathtaking array of oranges and pinks. Clarissa fell silent as she gazed, her eyes wide with wonder.
