Shipwrecked With The Captain

His hand flattened against her shoulder and his voice softened. ‘We survived. Others would have, too.’

‘I cannot remember.’ She also could not remember if another man had ever touched her so—so gently.

He loosened her laces and stepped back. ‘You’ll want me to leave. Give you some privacy.’

‘No!’ she cried, then felt guilty for it, but she had a dread of being alone. ‘Just—just turn your back.’

He did as she asked and she slipped off the dress. But there were her stays. They tied in front, but she could not undo the knot.

‘Lucien, I need more help.’ She drew a ragged breath. ‘My stays. The knot is too tight.’

He turned again and stepped towards her. His gaze was downcast as he worked the knot, his gentle hands touching her even more intimately.

His touch was more quenching than the cup of water.

Her breath quickened and her breasts rose and fell. He was only inches from her.

He made quick work of her stays, though, and stepped back once more. ‘I’ll turn around again.’

She slipped out of her stays and removed the rest of her underclothes, aware she stood naked in the presence of a man.

* * *

Lucien clenched a fist, letting his fingers press into his flesh. Being so close to her in her undressed state had stirred him. The sounds of her removing her underclothes aroused his senses even more. He was only too aware of the vision she must present in her nakedness.

And of how it felt to touch her.

In the past twenty-four hours he’d rarely not been touching her, but his fingers brushing against her skin stirred him as a man, not a rescuer. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman, true, but this situation certainly did not warrant such a response.

And she was the last sort of woman he needed to be aroused by—the aristocratic daughter of the family he’d been raised to despise. Besides, she was much too vulnerable for a gentleman to take advantage.

‘I am dressed,’ she said. ‘You may turn around now.’

He turned. She’d donned the loose shirt and breeches the fishermen wore and held the rough knitted stockings that covered their legs and feet.

‘I must remove my half-boots, but I’m well covered now.’ She sat in one of the chairs.

For the first time he noticed her half-boots. Something about them... They looked worn, not at all what he would have expected her to wear.

She removed one and held it up. ‘I have no memory of these.’ She shrugged and set the shoe aside. ‘You must change now, as well. I promise not to look.’

He smiled. ‘Will you help me if I cannot undo my buttons?’

She coloured. The flush on her cheeks only made her more lovely.

Lowering her gaze, she said, ‘Of course I will, if you need me.’

He coughed. ‘It was a jest, my lady.’

She turned her chair away from him and quickly donned the stockings. He continued to watch as she then busied herself taking pins from her hair, most of which had already fallen to her shoulders in tangles. It was remarkable that any pins remained. She took the comb from her reticule and started working on her hair, one strand at a time.

Lucien forced his eyes away and changed into the clothes the fishermen provided.

He hung their old clothing and her reticule on pegs on the wall and joined her at the table.

She looked over at him and smiled. ‘These clothes are remarkably comfortable, although I feel a bit as if I am in my nightdress.’ Her face fell. ‘How is it I remember how a nightdress feels and I do not remember owning one?’

He had no answers for her. ‘When we are back on land you can consult a physician.’

Her eyes widened. ‘I would fear he’d send me to Bedlam.’

Such a worry was not unfounded, but surely her family would not allow such a thing. He’d not allow it.

‘We are likely to be on this boat for three weeks,’ she said after a time. ‘Is that not what the Captain said?’

‘It is,’ he responded. ‘We must make the best of it.’

Her expression turned determined. ‘I am glad of it. I am certain I can manage such a small world.’

‘And, who knows?’ he added. ‘Perhaps your memory will return by then.’

She detangled her hair strand by strand and it calmed Lucien to watch her. When done, she put her hair in a plait.

She held the end of her plait in her fingers. ‘I suppose it will only come loose again without a ribbon.’

Lucien rose and picked up the neckcloth he’d taken off. He cut the edge with the knife they’d used to slice the cheese and ripped a long strip.

He handed it to her. ‘This should work.’

‘But you’ve ruined your neckcloth.’ She reached for it.

He laughed. ‘I’d say the sea ruined it already.’

She wound it around the end of her plait and tied the ends with a bow.

They finished the rest of the bread and cheese and soon Lady Rebecca’s eyelids closed and her chin dipped on to her chest.

She jolted awake.

‘You must go to bed.’ Lucien rose and helped her to the Captain’s berth.

She curled up beneath the blanket, her eyes blinking in an effort to stay awake.

‘Sleep now,’ he murmured.

She seized his hand. ‘Where will you sleep, Lucien? There is only one berth.’

He tried again. ‘I should not sleep in this cabin with you, my lady. It is not proper.’