The Gift (24 page)

Nathan almost smiled. He recognized Matthew's booming voice. The seaman was obviously sharing Nora's bed. "I have to talk to Nora," he announced.

Sara's aunt came awake with a start. She let out a gasp and pulled the covers up to her chin. Her blush was as high as the candle flame.

Nathan walked over to the side of the bed and stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the floor.

"Sara's ill," he announced before Nora could say a word.

Nora's embarrassment over being found in such a compromising position quickly faded in the light of that announcement.

"I must go to her," she whispered. She struggled to sit up. "Do you know what the ailment is?"

"Do you want me to have a look at her?" Matthew asked in a rush. He was already tossing the covers aside.

Nathan shook his head. He cleared his throat. "It's this… woman's thing."

"What woman's thing?" Matthew asked, genuinely perplexed.

Nora understood. She patted Matthew's hand but kept her gaze on Nathan's face. "Is she in much pain?"

Nathan nodded. "She's in terrible pain, madam. Now tell me what I can do to help her."

Nora thought he sounded very like a military commander, so brisk was his tone of voice. "A stiff drink of brandy sometimes helps," Nora suggested. "A gentle word wouldn't hurt either, Nathan. I remember becoming very emotional during that time of month."

"Isn't there anything else I can do for her?" Nathan muttered. "My God, Nora, she's in pain. I won't have it"

With extreme effort Nora was able to contain her smile. Nathan looked like he wanted to kill someone. "Have you asked her what might help?"

"She wanted her mother."

"How would that help?" Matthew asked.

Nora answered, "She needs her husband, dear. Nathan, she wants someone to comfort her. Try rubbing her back."

Nora had to raise her voice to give that last suggestion, for Nathan was already striding out the doorway.

As soon as the door closed behind him Nora turned to Matthew. "Do you think he'll tell Sara that you and I—"

"No, my love, he wouldn't say a word," Matthew interjected.

"I hate to deceive Sara, but she does tend to see everything in black or white. I don't think she'd understand."

"Hush now," Matthew soothed. He kissed Nora and pulled her into his arms. "Age will season her."

Nora agreed. She changed the topic then and whispered, "Nathan is beginning to care for Sara, isn't he? It won't be long before he realizes he loves her."

"He may love her, Nora, but he won't ever admit it. The boy learned a long time ago to protect himself against any true involvement."

Nora snorted over that remark. "Nonsense," she countered. "Given an ordinary woman, perhaps you would be right, Matthew, but surely you've noticed by now that my Sara isn't ordinary. She's just what Nathan needs. She thinks her husband loves her, and it won't take her long to convince him that he does. Just wait and see."

Sara didn't have any idea she was the topic of discussion. She was in the throes of self-pity.

She never heard Nathan come back into the cabin. He was suddenly touching her shoulder. "Sara, drink this. It will make you feel better."

She rolled over, saw the goblet in his hands, and immediately shook her head.

"It's brandy," he told her.

"I don't want it."

"Drink it."

"I'll throw up."

She couldn't be any blunter than that, he supposed. He hastily put the goblet on the desk and then got into bed beside her.

She tried to push him out. He ignored her struggle and her demands.

Sara rolled back onto her side again, facing the wall. She might as well pray for death, she supposed. It was an overly dramatic request she gave her Maker, and in the back of her mind she really hoped He wasn't listening, and that thought didn't make a lick of sense to her either.

She couldn't take the pain much longer. Then Nathan put his arm around her waist. He pulled her a little closer to him and began to rub her lower back. The gentle touch was heaven. The ache immediately began to lessen. Sara closed her eyes and scooted closer to her husband so that she could steal a little more of his warmth.

She barely noticed the rocking and pitching motion of the ship. Nathan noticed. His own stomach was in torment, and he wished to God he hadn't eaten anything. It was only a matter of time before he would turn completely green.

He kept rubbing her spine for fifteen minutes or so without speaking a word to her. He tried to concentrate on the woman cuddled up against him, but each time the ship rolled, so did his stomach.

"You can stop now," Sara whispered. "I'm feeling better, thank you."

Nathan did as she requested, then started to get out of bed. She waylaid that intent with her next request. "Will you hold me, Nathan? I'm so cold. It's chilly tonight, isn't it?"

It was as hot as blazes to him. His face was drenched in perspiration. He did as she asked, though. Her hands felt like ice, but in just a few minutes he'd hugged her warm again.

He thought she was finally asleep and was just easing himself out of her hold when she whispered, "Nathan? What if I'm barren?"

"Then you're barren."

"Is that all you can say? We can't have children if I'm barren."

He rolled his eyes heavenward. God, she sounded like she was going to cry again. "You can't possibly know if you're barren or not," he said. "It's too soon to jump to that conclusion."

"But if I am?" she prodded.

"Sara, what do you want me to say?" he asked. His frustration was almost visible. His stomach lurched again. Deep breaths weren't helping. He tossed the covers aside and tried to leave the bed again.

"Would you still want to be married to me?" she asked. "We won't get the land the king promised if I don't have a baby by the time—"

"I'm aware of the conditions of the contract," he snapped. "If we don't get the land, then we'll rebuild on the land my father left to me. Now quit your questions and go to sleep. I'll be back in a little while."

"You still haven't answered me," she said. "Would you still want to be married to a barren woman?"

"Oh, for God's sake—"

"You would, wouldn't you?"

He grunted. She took that sound to mean he would. She rolled over and kissed his back. He'd left the candles burning, and when she looked up at his face she saw how gray his complexion had turned.

She was quick to put two and two together. The ship was bouncing like an errant ball in the water. The goblet of brandy was pitched to the floor. Nathan closed his eyes and grimaced.

He was seasick. Sara was filled with sympathy for her poor husband, but that emotion was quickly squelched when he muttered, "I wouldn't be married to anyone if it wasn't for the damned contracts. Now go to sleep."

After grumbling out that remark he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Sara was suddenly furious again. How dare he take that tone of voice with her? She was just as ill as he was, perhaps even more. She forgot all about the gentle way he'd treated her and decided to teach the man a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.

"I'm sorry I'm keeping you from whatever business you have to attend to," she began. "My back is feeling much better now, Nathan. Thank you. My stomach isn't upset either. I suppose I shouldn't have had that fish for supper. It tasted wonderful, though, especially when I put a little dab of chocolate on top. Have you ever tasted fish sweetened that way? No?" she asked when he didn't answer her.

He seemed to be in quite a hurry to get his pants back on. Sara held her smile. "I usually just put sugar on top, but I wanted to experiment tonight. By the way, the cook has promised to serve us oysters when we reach port. I love oysters, don't you? The way they sort of… slide down your throat… Nathan, aren't you going to kiss me good-bye?"

The door slammed shut before she'd finished her question. Sara smiled. She gained tremendous satisfaction from her sinful actions. It was high time her husband realized his good fortune in having her for his wife. High time indeed.

"Serves him right for being so obstinate," she muttered to herself. She pulled the covers up over her shoulders and closed her eyes. She was sound asleep in minutes.

Nathan spent most of the night hanging over the side of the ship. He'd gone to the usually deserted area, and no one paid him any attention.

The sun was easing up into the sky when he returned to the cabin. He felt as wrung out as a wet sail. He literally collapsed on the bed. Sara was bounced awake by that action. She rolled over and cuddled up against her husband's side.

He started snoring so she wouldn't start talking again. Sara leaned up and kissed the side of his cheek. In the soft candlelight she could see how pale he was. He was in dire need of a shave, too. He looked fierce with the dark shadow along his jawline. Sara reached up to touch the side of his cheek with her fingertips. "I love you," she whispered. "Even with all your flaws, Nathan, I still love you. I'm sorry I deliberately made you seasick. I'm sorry that you suffer from such an ailment."

Satisfied with her confession, especially because she knew he hadn't heard a word of what she'd just said, she rolled away from him. Her sigh was loud. "I do believe you should consider another line of work, husband. The sea doesn't seem to suit you."

He slowly opened his eyes, then turned to look at her. She appeared to be asleep again. She looked damned peaceful to him. Angelic.

He wanted to throttle her. His wife had somehow found out about his illness and had deliberately used that knowledge to get even with him. She must have taken exception to his remark about not being married at all if it weren't for the contracts.

His flash of anger dissipated in little time, and he found himself smiling. Little Sara wasn't such an innocent after all She'd done exactly what he would have done if he'd had such a weapon at his disposal and wasn't strong enough to physically retaliate.

When he was angry he liked to use his fists. She used her head and it pleased him. Still, it was high time she understood just who was in charge of the marriage. High time indeed. She wasn't supposed to use cunning on him.

And Lord, she looked lovely. He suddenly wanted to make love to her. He couldn't, of course, because of her delicate condition, and he almost shook her awake to ask her how long this woman's thing lasted.

Exhaustion finally overcame him. Just as he was drifting off to sleep he felt Sara take hold of his hand. He didn't pull away. His last thought before falling asleep was a bit unsettling.

He needed her to hold him.

They were just two days away from Nora's home, and Nathan was once again beginning to think that the rest of the voyage might prove uneventful.

He should have known better.

It was late evening on the twenty-first of the month. There were more stars than sky above, and the breeze was every bit as pretty by a seaman's measure. The wind was gentle, yet coaxingly insistent. They were making good time—a clipping speed, in fact. The mighty ship set straight in the water and cut directly through the ocean without rocking or lurching to either side. A man could put a keg of grog on the rail without fear of losing it, so calm was the sea, and there was nary a worry to annoy a seaman's dreams.

Nathan stood next to Jimbo behind the wheel. The two men were in deep discussion over the plans to expand the Emerald Shipping Company. Jimbo was in favor of adding additional clippers to their fleet, while Nathan favored heavier, more durable ships.

Sara interrupted their conversation when she came rushing across the deck. She was dressed only in her nightgown and wrapper. Jimbo noticed that right away. Nathan's back was to his wife, however, and because she was barefoot he didn't hear her approach.

"Nathan, I must speak to you at once," she cried out. "We have a horrible problem, and you must take care of it right away."

Nathan had a resigned look on his face when he turned around, but that expression faltered as soon as he saw the pistol in his wife's hand. The weapon, he couldn't help but notice, was pointed at his groin.

Sara was in a high fit about something. She looked a sight. Her hair was in wild disarray around her shoulders, and her cheeks were bright.

Then he noticed her state of attire. "What are you doing strutting around the deck dressed in your nightclothes?" he demanded.

Her eyes widened over his rebuke. "I wasn't strutting," she began. She stopped herself with a shake of her head. "This isn't the time to lecture me about my attire. We have a serious problem, husband."

She turned her attention to Jimbo. The pistol made her curtsy awkward. "Please forgive my unladylike appearance, Jimbo, but I've had quite an upset, I can tell you, and I didn't take time to dress."

Jimbo nodded even as he dodged the pistol she was waving back and forth between Nathan and him. He didn't think she realized she was holding the weapon.

"You've had an upset?" Jimbo prodded.

"What in God's name are you doing with that pistol?" Nathan demanded at the same time.