Page 12 of Only By Grace
“Sea legs?”
“Learning to find your balance while the floor moves beneath you. About the time you get used to it, we will be on land and then that will feel strange for a few days.”
Ronan led her through the door to the companionway, then up the ladder to the main deck. Unfortunately, the sky had grown much darker since he’d gone to the cabin.
“It smells like rain,” she said as she held on to the shroud and looked up at the sky.
Ronan had always thought the weather had a smell himself, and had been teased by his sister about it. He was somehow pleased that she thought the same.
“It will rain and hopefully that is all. If you notice, the sails are not full. The wind has stilled and that means we may stop moving.”
Her brow furrowed, then she walked over to the railing and seemed to contemplate his words for a few moments. “Does water ever truly stop moving?”
“Actually, no, but the wind does. We are going against the current, so if there is no wind to harness, we essentially stop.”
“Or get carried backwards by the current?” she asked perceptively.
“We have ways to stop from going backwards, but unfortunately, until the wind picks up, we cannot go forward.”
“How do you sail against the wind?”
“By tacking. You must sail at an angle, then change to the opposite angle then so on and so forth, essentially to go in the direction you wish.”
“Fascinating. I had never really thought about it before.”
“I do not suppose you would have had cause to.”
She humphed grumpily. “Ladies rarely have need to do anything, do they?”
It was hard for him not to smile at her peevishness. Had she always been like this and he had simply never looked? He glanced at her with reluctant appreciation. No, she’d been hiding this side of herself, he was sure of it. Either that or she’d been afraid of him before and no longer was. He was not certain that was a good thing either.
He was pleased by her keen mind. She’d never carried on much conversation with him before. He had not thought her slow, precisely, but had thought she was one of the young, mindless chits that London Society seemed to cultivate.
“What is this?” She climbed up to the quarter-deck and explored while Fergus eyed her warily. Hopefully, Grace did not notice how all of the men were giving her a wide berth. At least no one had spat and crossed themselves where she could see.
There was a loud crack of thunder and the skies opened in a downpour and he hurried her back down the ladder to the cabin. She stopped suddenly in front of him and he barely kept from stumbling into her.
“Oh! I left Theodore up there!”
“Theodore? You mean the cat? It is named Theodore?” he asked scathingly. “What a ridiculous name for a cat.”
“Joy,” she remarked by way of explanation, but was already hurrying past him back up to the deck.
Ronan looked skyward, then followed her. The last thing he wished to do was drown in the rain over a rat catcher. He’d left Fergus watching the wheel—not that they were going anywhere—and he was protected from the rain by his oilskin. Chasing a kitten was not calling to him as staying warm and dry in the cabin was.
When they reached the deck, the rain was coming down in heavy sheets that splashed in puddles.
From what he knew of cats, they were self-serving creatures. The kitten was likely smart enough to be hiding somewhere and would not come out until the rain stopped, but Ronan could tell any mention of that fact would fall on deaf ears when he saw Grace searching frantically. She did not even know the ship well enough to search, and the crew was already sour, blaming her for the rain and the lack of wind. It was convenient to forget all of these things happened when she was not on board as well.
In a mood himself, he went to the most likely places for a small rat-sized creature to hide and found him curled up in the middle of a rope, dry underneath an overhang. He scooped the kitten up in his hand and shoved him inside his waistcoat before calling out to Grace. “I have him.”
Speaking of rats, she looked like a drowning one. He took her by the elbow and hurried her back towards the companionway and down to the cabin. He closed the door behind him, then pulled the little feline out of his coat and held him out for her inspection.
“How is he dry?”
“He was napping, blissfully unaware beneath an overhang.”
Suddenly aware that they were both dripping puddles on his rug, he went to the cupboard and began pulling dry clothing out for himself and a flannel for her to wrap herself in.
