Miles Before I Sleep (17 page)

“I don’t want to talk about it in the hallway,” he said as he guided her into the room, and pulled the door closed. “I knew it would upset you.”

Miles did not release her hand until he led her to the sofa where they both took a seat.

“I’m not upset,” she lied, sitting on the edge of the couch, her spine straight as an arrow.

“Then why are you doing that thing you do when you’re upset?”

“What thing?”

“Every muscle in your body is tightened so hard you can barely move. It’s a wonder your bones don’t snap from the strain.”

“One’s posture is important.” She tried to make her voice sound light and jovial, but it was high pitched with tension.

“And your smile—it’s all…perfect when you’re unhappy.”

“Why would I smile if I’m unhappy? Are you implying I find pleasure in bad things?”

Miles sensed that Andrea was trying to start a fight to distract him.

“Andi, you don’t have to pretend with me. I don’t find you lacking because you aren’t perfect.”

Andrea looked stricken. Her lips trembled as she fought to keep her composure.  “Why
do
you find me lacking?” She looked away from him while she schooled her expression. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Miles bit back a curse. “I don’t find you lacking in the least.” He got up from the sofa and poured them each a glass of sherry. “It will help you sleep. I know you’ve had a shock.”

“Miles, I just want you to know, if I had known everything would go pear-shaped, I would have just accepted my lot. I never meant to hurt anyone, not Clyde Sully, not Rory, not my parents.” Andrea threw back two good swallows of the sherry.

“Whoa, you don’t want to get drunk.” Miles reached for her glass, but she pulled her hand back.

“Yes, Miles, I think I do.”

“Clyde Sully was an evil man. He earned those lashes for what he did to you.”

“Which he would not have had an opportunity to do, if I had not run away.”

“Don’t you think he would have tried to hurt another young woman given the opportunity? Perhaps the blame is with me. I knew you were alone on the ship—even now, I have not found a chaperone for you. How long would it have taken me to escort you to your room before going to the engine room? Thank God, I did not stay to watch the repair. If we are casting blame, perhaps we should also give your father blame for not talking to you about the betrothal, and your mother for making you feel any match but a king would be beneath you. Furthermore, your betrothed deserves blame for not writing to you to make sure you were comfortable with the match, especially when your father wrote and said neither you, nor your mother knew of it. And we can cast blame on both Captain Bloodworthy and me as we hired the villain.”

Andrea drank more of her sherry. “I don’t think marriage to anyone is beneath me—quite the opposite. I have always known I have inferior bloodlines. If not for my  father’s money to buy my husband, I would have little hope of a good match.”

“Andi, when you say things like that, I want to shake some sense into you. Do you not know how special and beautiful you are?”

Andrea stared sightlessly into the nearly empty glass. “I am not beautiful. My coloring is pale and washed out. Blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin. I look like half of the girls in England. My eyes are not even a particularly bright shade of blue, but nearly colorless. I sometimes long to go out in the sun without a bonnet or a parasol just to get spots. At times, when no one else is looking, I turn my face up to the sun to feel the warmth.”

A wide grin lit up Miles’s face, imagining her feeling wicked for putting her face to the sun. “Tomorrow, we should go sit in the sun for half an hour and then count your freckles.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” Her smile was genuine as she turned to face him.

“Fine, ten minutes a day until you get one freckle.”

She looked at him wide-eyed. “Do you think that would work?”

“I think it’s worth a try if you really want one.”

Andrea blinked as a faraway expression captured her eyes. “I should love to have exactly eleven freckles, five on my nose and three on each cheek. I think that should be the perfect number to have.”

“When I used to tease Rory about his freckles, my mother used to tell me, freckles are kisses from angels.”

“You’ve never been kissed by an angel?” she asked.

“Does kissing you count?”

Her cheeks were already rosy from the wine, but he knew she was blushing. Miles chastised himself for saying what he was thinking aloud. He needed to stop bantering with her. She needed to meet other men and make a choice of her own accord. If he pressed his suit too soon and then she found out that he was Shamus, she would feel tricked. But if she could choose him of her own accord from a myriad of men, hopefully, she would feel that she had been allowed to pick her husband, not forced to marry a man selected by her father.

Miles refused to consider that she could or would fall in love with anyone but him. He knew it was possible, but he knew no man would ever understand her as he did. Or love her as stalwartly.

“You only spent a few minutes with Mr. Paulson,” he said. “Do you want me to invite him to dine with us at luncheon so you may become better acquainted?”

Andrea inadvertently pulled away from Miles. One moment she was basking in the warmth from being compared to an angel, a moment later, he was pushing her, figuratively, at another man. Could he not sense her attraction to him? She wanted to have lunch with him, not with anyone else.

“No, Miles, not Sir Judah. He was much too forward and a terrible gossip. I have been the subject of the gossip and really do not find pleasure in talking about other people. Assuming, I did not already know that Clyde Sully was flogged, why would he think a young woman would ever want to hear such a horrible thing? In addition, to speculate on his offense makes him the worst sort of gossip. He did not have enough facts so he started making them up. If I do not see that man again, I would not miss him.”

Miles was not only surprised by how quickly she had made up her mind about the man, but how thorough she formed her opinion.

“Fair enough. Are you always so quick to judge people you meet?”

“It seems one should attempt to make a good first impression. Some people don’t even try.”

Miles cocked his head and cast a sad smile at her. “It does not surprise me you think so. I suspect you have often been assessed quickly and harshly. Has it made you look for excuses to push people away before they do the same to you?”

She looked at him wide-eyed and drew the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. “How do you know how I feel? Did my father share those things in his letters?”

“Does your father know what’s in your heart? I bet you don’t tell your thoughts to anyone.”

“My friend Rita is the only one in whom I can confide, but I don’t tell her everything,” she said pensively.

Miles sighed slightly and resisted the urge to ask her to tell him her secrets. “And what was your first impression of me when we first met?”

Andrea shrugged. “I don’t rightly remember. That was a long time ago.”

“Ha! I don’t believe you. I think you remember that night as well as I do. Perhaps better.”

“Perhaps I do, but you would have to ply me with more sherry to get me to say.”

Miles chuckled remembering the things she had said the previous time. Although it had been enlightening to find out, he knew she would rather have kept her thoughts private. “Perhaps someday you will feel safe confiding in me, but I will not coerce you to tell me what you’d rather not.”

“Thank you, Miles.”

Miles pulled out his pocket watch and was surprised at how late it was. He frowned at the time and snapped it closed.

“Andrea, would you like to have an early morning adventure?”

“What kind of adventure?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that. It would ruin the surprise.”

His enthusiasm was infectious. “I’ve never had an adventure. I think I should quite like that. Can you give me a hint?”

“Let me think. It shall be a little scary, and a little exciting. It’s quite forbidden for the passengers, so you will have to look past being naughty.”

With her mouth slightly open as she stared at him, he thought about what he said and he realized it sounded sexual in nature, but he did not correct it. “Wear your trousers and jacket, and I shall knock on your door at 5:30 AM.”

“Perhaps you should knock on the wall between our rooms, so we do not wake up the other passengers, especially if I have not awakened on my own. I shall knock back twice to let you know I’m up, and thrice to let you know I’m ready to go.”

Miles stood up and held his hand out to her. She took it and he walked her back to her room.

“Is there something in particular you’d like for breakfast in the morning?”

“I should imagine porridge would be fine.”

“I don’t believe there will be a table or chairs where we are eating breakfast. I was hoping you would not be opposed to something a bit more portable.”

“I’ve never had a breakfast picnic, I shall be happy with anything you provide.”

21

Miles and Andrea stepped out of their staterooms into the corridor in near unison. They had caught the sailors on duty off guard by their early appearance, and the men stood gaping as they watched the pair rushed out of sight hand-in-hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked as the slowed to a walk a few minutes later.

“You’ll see,” he said. “We’re almost there.”

“We’re almost where? We’re in the middle of the deck.”

“Right.”

Miles pointedly looked at the large mast they stood next to and allowed his gaze to run up its length to the crow’s nest at the top. Andrea’s eyes followed his and she gasped when she realized what he was planning.

“I bet you’ve never watched the sunrise from the crow’s nest.”

“Oh, heavens.”

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“As much as any sane person, but not overly so. I’ve always wanted to go to the lookout, but no one would ever let me.”

Miles didn’t mind admitting he was a bit nervous about the climb, and even more so the descent. It did not help that it was dark and the ladder was nothing more than boards suspended between knotted ropes, secured to the mast at regular intervals.

“Your father will hunt me down and kill me if something happens to you. I think you should go up a step and I’ll be on the step below you with my arms boxing you in as we go up.”

“That may be less dangerous for me, but I doubt it’s safer for you.”

Miles doubted there was any risk-free way to get to the top, but the pretense made him feel better about taking her into a perilous situation.

“When we get higher up, we will really notice the rocking of the ship. I just want to warn you, so you won’t be alarmed when you feel it. Move one hand then the other, one foot then the other. There’s no reason to hurry.”

“I think you’re more nervous than I am,” she said as she climbed up the first two rungs of the ladder and waited for him.

“What is an adventure without a little danger?”

They barely spoke as they climbed. Miles wondered what the sailors on duty thought of their escapade. Were they making assumptions about Andrea’s virtue or just laughing at their excruciatingly slow ascent.

When they finally made it to the crow’s nest, Miles closed the trap door so they could not accidentally fall through. The floor of the lookout was no larger than five feet by five feet, with the mast protruding through the middle. The walls were easily four feet tall and built sturdily to protect the occupants.

“Miles, this is awe-inspiring. Thank you for bringing me up here to see the stars.”

“Actually, I thought we could watch the sunrise.”

“The sunrise? What time will the sun come up?”

Miles laughed. “Actually, I have no idea. I just thought if we got here early enough, we couldn’t miss it. The closer we got to England the earlier it seemed to rise. Now that we are heading west it seems later in the morning.”

“Are you basing this on what time your watch says?”

It was too dark to gauge her question on more than her tone of voice. He was mildly embarrassed to admit, that unlike his father who had captained a ship for many years, Miles had spent very little time at sea and had never truly grasped the intricacies of telling time as he traveled.

“I’ve been trying to reset my watch when I see the sun overhead.”

“That seems reasonable, if not scientific. However, how much has your ship’s incredible speed factored into it?”

“It is fast, isn’t it?” he said with a proud tone to his voice.

“I don’t mind waiting for the sun to come up. It’s actually really nice out here.”

“I thought it would be cooler, that’s why I had a couple of blankets brought up for us.”

Andrea began looking around the floor for blankets. They were tucked away in the far corner. She handed him one and rolled the other one up.

“Might as well get comfortable,” she said, reclining on the floor and tucking the blanket under her head as a pillow. She had to keep her legs bent, as there was not enough room to stretch out completely.

Miles wondered if Andrea would ever stop surprising him. She could have such a haughty air about her at times, but thought nothing of climbing forty-five feet straight up, nor lying down on the floor.

Miles followed suit, and wondered if the crow’s nest could be redesigned where the mast didn’t come up the middle. Well, perhaps it was best that the mast came between him and temptation. Miles propped his long legs against the wall and placed his hands beneath the back of his head.

“What time do you think it really is?”

She turned her head toward him. “Does it matter? Do you have someplace else you’re supposed to be?”

“There is nowhere in the world I would rather be than right here, right now.”

She smiled knowing it was too dark for him to see it. Maybe just maybe, he did have feelings for her.

“Do you know any of the constellations?” she asked.

He turned his head heavenward and was amazed at how many more stars there appeared to be out on the ocean than when he was in the city. “Only the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. What about you?”

“The same. Maybe we should make some up.”

Miles cringed. “I have to admit I failed cloud animals in school. I’m probably just as unimaginative when it comes to the stars.”

Andrea laughed and reached her hand towards him. “Well, maybe you would do better naming the constellations I find. No inane names like Big Dipper.”

Miles pulled one hand from behind his head and took her hand, interlacing their fingers.

“I shall endeavor to live up to your expectations, Miss James.”

Andrea pointed at a large clump of stars. “I see a rather ridiculous looking ladies chapeau. See the arch of the porkpie cap and all those feathers.”

“Where?”

“There, can’t you… Oh, the mast is in your way. Move your head over here.” She scooted her upper body towards his and he did the same until their heads were six inches apart. Andrea pointed with the hand clasped with his.

“It’s kind of sitting at an angle. Do you see it?”

Miles squinted his eyes and turned his head one way and then the other. “I told you I was terrible at this.”

“If you think you can name it, I’ll try to draw you a picture of what I’m seeing later.”

“How about Pike’s Perfectly Putrid Plumage.”

“Not bad, but I think we should not be mean. In five years, I may look back at my drawing and see that label and feel that the unkindness was beneath us.”

“Then maybe Pike’s Perfect Plumage?”

“Ah, that’s better. Only you and I will know the sarcasm is implied.”

It was just like her to think of appearances even in a frivolous pursuit. “What else do you see?”

“See that bright star near the mast? You may have to move this way just a hair.” Again, she was pointing with the hand clasped with his. Miles leaned his head closer to hers.

“I see it.”

“And that one about the same brightness.”

“Yes.”

“Make a line between them.”

“Now, you see those two stars that are close together below that line?”

“I see them.”

“Imagine all four stars make up a bowl.”

Miles turned his head to face her. “That’s no better than a dipper.”

“I’m not finished,” she laughed. “Now imagine that bowl shape is a ship. Look at all the stars on the other side of the line and begin to connect them together as masts and sails.”

“And stacks.”

“And stacks. You can see it?”

“Better than cloud monkeys, I suppose.”

Andrea laughed and turned her face to him. That’s what you should name your next ship.
Cloud Monkeys
.”

“Can’t we just name that constellation the Cloud Monkey Ship?”

“Yes, that’s definitely what we shall name the constellation.”

“I was thinking about naming my next ship,
Olive Pits
.”

“Oh, do it with two T’s at the end of
Pits
, so it sounds like some girl’s name,”

Miles laughed. He had expected her to be embarrassed and make a fuss, not embrace the idea.

Andrea bit her lip. “I know I shouldn’t tell you this, but the day I met Lady Pike and Lady Callie, Callie said she thought you were the
one
.”

“The one?”

“The one she was going to marry. She was going to ask you to change the name of the ship to
The Dark Lady
or
The Callie Pike
.”

“Indeed?”

“I told her it was bad luck to change the name of the ship and she believed me.”

Miles closed his eyes and shook his head with astonishment. When he opened them he turned his head to look at Andrea and the was the moon’s light ever so softly revealed the outline of her face.

“Even if I did marry her, I would never change the name of this ship for her. Maybe the next one.”

“Did you name her for someone special?”

“I did. I thought it would be a nice wedding gift to welcome you into the family.”

The moonlight caught her wide eyes. “I’m the lady fair?”

“Of course.
The Andrea
was already taken.”

Although it struck her as odd that he would name a ship for his cousin’s wife, Andrea was flattered that he would do so. “Thank you, Miles.”

He lifted her hand to his lips. “You’re welcome.”

Andrea sighed and closed her eyes. She felt so content lying there holding his hand and looking at the stars. She could hardly remember being this happy her whole life. If her existence ended at that moment, she would leave the world feeling fulfilled. Could this be love? Was this what the girls at school dreamed about?

“Do you want me to wake you when the sun rises?” he asked, realizing she was nodding off.

“Please,” she said lethargically.

Miles released her hand and rolled over on his side to watch her sleep, wishing the moon could be larger and brighter. In the distance, he heard one clang of the bell, meaning it was half an hour into the new watch. It was now 4:30. They must have just barely missed the shift change when they emerged from their cabins.

Telling time at sea seemed to be a skill beyond his reach.