Page 26 of A Captain For Clarissa
“Magnificent,” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Indeed,” Rafael agreed, though his gaze remained fixed on her. “A sight to remember.”
“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said earnestly, turning to face him. “It’s—“ She faltered, searching for words that could encapsulate her gratitude.
“An adventure,” he supplied, his voice warm.
“Precisely,” she affirmed, feeling a surge of camaraderie with him. “An adventure.”
They lingered a few moments longer, absorbing the panorama before beginning their descent. Clarissa felt lighter, buoyed by the shared experience and the burgeoning connection between them.
The ship would remain in Gibraltar overnight, and Marianne had requested Alex to take rooms for them in a hotel for the night, so that she and Clarissa could bathe properly and have their clothes laundered. Alex, ever acquiescent to his wife’s every whim, had promptly booked a suite in the best hotel in Gibraltar and invited Rafael to join them to dine in the hotel’s restaurant.
The establishment exuded elegance, its grand facade promising an evening of refined pleasure.
“How was your excursion?” Marianne inquired, her striking red hair catching the candlelight as they were seated.
“Enlightening,” Clarissa replied, casting a glance at Rafael. “And invigorating.”
“Excellent.” Alex raised his glass. “To new horizons.”
“To new horizons,” they echoed, clinking glasses as the first course was served.
The meal unfolded in a symphony of flavours—delicate soups, succulent meats, and decadent desserts—all accompanied by lively conversation. Rafael and Clarissa exchanged witty repartee, their words flowing as smoothly as the fine wine.
As the evening drew to a close, Clarissa felt a contentment settle over her, a sense of belonging she had not anticipated. The elegant surroundings, the engaging company, and the day’s shared experiences combined to create a memory she would cherish.
“Until our next adventure,” Rafael murmured as they parted ways for the night, his voice a gentle caress.
“Until then,” she replied, her heart light and hopeful.
The room at the hotel was opulently appointed, with heavy drapes of burgundy velvet, a canopy bed adorned in brocade, and an ornate chandelier casting a soft glow. Yet despite the luxurious surroundings, Clarissa found herself restless. She lay atop the plush mattress, staring at the ceiling.
“Why can I not find solace here?” she muttered to herself, turning onto her side. The room’s stillness felt oppressive, a far cry from the gentle sway of the Santa Dorotéia that had become oddly comforting. She missed the rhythmic creaksof the timbers, the distant call of the sea birds, and most disconcertingly, she missed Rafael.
“Clarissa, are you awake?” Marianne’s voice floated through the adjoining door, a soft interruption to her musings.
“Yes, Marianne,” Clarissa replied, sitting up and smoothing her nightgown. “I fear sleep eludes me this evening.”
“Come, join me for a moment,” Marianne invited. Her tone held a warmth that transcended their complicated relationship. Crossing into Marianne’s room, Clarissa found her seated by the window, a steaming cup of tea in hand.
“Where is Uncle Alex?” Clarissa asked.
“Restless too,” Marianne admitted. “He went out for a walk. Sit with me.” She patted the window seat beside her. Now tell me, is it the ship you miss or its captain?” Marianne’s eyes twinkled with knowing mischief.
“Perhaps both,” Clarissa admitted, taking the offered seat. “But more than that, I long for the sense of purpose I feel aboard the Santa Dorotéia.”
“Ah, the thrill of adventure,” Marianne remarked, her gaze drifting out to the moonlit harbour. “It is a powerful lure.”
“Indeed,” Clarissa agreed, feeling a pang of longing as she imagined the ship rocking gently in the bay. “I do not know how I shall settle back into the constrained life that awaits me athome, Aunt Marianne,” she said quietly, and Marianne reached out to take Clarissa’s hand.
“I wonder if we did the right thing, bringing you on this trip,” Marianne said thoughtfully, and Clarissa’s eyes flew to her aunt’s face, a shocked denial springing to her lips. Marianne shook her head. “Hear me out. After what happened to you in Athens…”
“That was not your fault!” Clarissa insisted vehemently. “And if it had not happened, I should never have met Rafael… Captain de Silva, I mean!”
“Indeed,” Marianne said quietly, looking at her with a curious expression on her face, before she gave a rueful little smile. “Well. There is no sense crying over spilt milk. You have had enough adventures to last several lifetimes, Clarissa!”
They will have to last me the whole of this one, Clarissa thought sadly, turning her head to gaze out of the window.Once I get back to London, my mother will never allow me out of her sight until I’m safely married to some suitably staid lord who will never let me so much as think of adventure again.
