Page 9 of Devil of the High Seas
Gavin marveled at this woman’s ability to handle the sight of blood and stitch up his wound without distress.
“How old are you, lass?” he asked.
She helped him back to the bed and he lay down, then she drew a warm woolen blanket up to his neck as though he were a child. Something about that made his heart twinge. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken care of him like that.
“I am eighteen,” she said, her voice softening a little.
“Ah. So young,” he sighed. She was young, but she had handled herself well in a crisis, better than most women twice her age.
“And you must be positively ancient, at what, twenty-six?” she asked archly.
“How did you know I was twenty-six?” His eyes drifted closed as his body finally began to surrender to the ordeal of the last few hours.
“Gavin...” She murmured his name. His eyes flew open at the single utterance.
“How did you know my name?” He stared at her, his eyes boring into her as he tried to figure out if her knowledge of his name was a danger he needed to prepare for.
She leaned away from him a little, as if fearing he’d grasp at her. The shadows played across her face as she swallowed hard. For an instant he regretted the sharp tone he’d used, but when she replied her tone was strong.
“I recognized you from the portrait I saw in the corridor. It wasn’t hard to guess who you are.”
Ah... the portrait his father had commissioned right before the ball. He and Griffin had both had portraits made that year. He ought to rip it from the wall and burn it. But perhaps the danger wasn’t too great. She was one woman, alone on a stormy night. If she began to tell tales later... it was possible no one would believe her. Cornwall storms had a way of playing tricks upon one’s mind.
“Josephine, you must tell no one I’m here,” he insisted as he reached for one of her hands and closed his fingers around hers. “Swear it.”
He had meant to speak to his brother, but now... now he wasn’t sure he was ready to. Because once he did, if he was still alive, he’d have to leave shortly after, and he didn’t want to give up these brief moments with Josephine. He was fast becoming attached to her kindness and her bravery and the peace her presence gave him as he endured the pain in his shoulder.
“I swear I won’t tell anyone.”
“Good...” He surrendered to exhaustion. As he fell into sleep, he dreamt of a pair of lovely gray eyes that saw clear through his very soul.
* * *
Josephine heldon to Gavin’s hand until she was sure he was asleep. Then she went to her own bedchamber to collect another blanket and pillow and returned. After stitching up his wound, she was too afraid to leave him alone. It was a silly thought, but she somehow believed that if she stayed with him tonight, he would be all right. She briefly imagined telling Dominic about Gavin’s presence, but if she did, her older brother would then keep her from seeing him again. The last thing Dominic would do would be to let her sleep beside a dangerous pirate and Josephine craved this time with Gavin. She craved the adventure and excitement that this secret rescue had given her.
She piled her blankets on the floor and shut her eyes, trying to catch some sleep. Sometime during the night after a violent crash of thunder, Gavin reached down over the edge of his bed, seeking her. His palm gently quested down her arm until he discovered her hand and then clasped it in his own, and she clung to it as though she was the one who needed soothing through the stormy night.
The wind was a distant, eerie howl from the tunnel that led to the beach. It made her dream of wolves howling in forbidden forests. Then she dreamt of a beautiful ship battling the elements toward smoother seas.
Later, she fell into dreams of a far different kind. Dreams of warm lips, hard, rough hands on her skin, and the heated passion of things she didn’t fully understand but still yearned for. She whispered Gavin’s name in the dark like a fervent prayer. The wounded pirate stole into her dreams and claimed her imagination.
There were no thoughts or dreams of the man she was supposed to marry or the quiet life she was supposed to surrender to. There were only dreams of pirates, heated kisses, open seas, andfreedom.
CHAPTER3
A light mist cloaked the rain-soaked graveyard. A recent storm had drifted in from the sea and now traveled away landward, leaving the grass damp and giving the air a chilly bite. From the edge of the woods, Gavin emerged, slowly treading to the stone markers contained within the hallowed grounds. His soul was set adrift as those stones beckoned him, stretching shadows within his heart, blocking out the light that used to burn so fiercely within him.
Dread draped over him like a shroud as he counted the stones that marked the plot belonging to the Castleton family. Three new stones rested among the group. He swallowed hard as he drew closer, afraid to see the names carved upon them. The first name he glimpsed was a blow to Gavin’s heart... his father. Gavin had been gone from Cornwall for six years, and in that time he had unknowingly lost his beloved father.
But it was with a primal fear that he finally turned to the other two grave markers. The larger of the two had an angel carved into a bent position over the stone, her wings curved protectively as she wept for the lost soul of the stone she clutched. He whispered the words carved on that stone aloud.
“Charity Castleton—All life is a wondrous but too brief dream.” Gavin fell to his knees, his head bowed. She was gone, the light that he’d clung to in the darkest of nights. She had no longer been his to love when she had married his brother, but love was love, and it knew no boundaries. He had learned that long ago—when a person loved deeply and truly, it was as limitless as the sea.
“What would you have me do now, my love?” he asked the lifeless stone before him. “You have left me to grieve in my unwelcome solitude.”
He summoned the last of his courage to see the smaller stone beside Charity’s. A child. She lost a child. He noted the dates of death for Charity and the child were the same. She must have died bringing Griffin’s child into the world, and the babe had perished with her.
Waxen green vines had grown over the child’s tombstone, and Gavin cautiously pulled them away until he saw the name of the baby.
