Read Online Almost a Lady by Jane Feather - Free Book Online

assumed you had urgent business in
your
cabin,” she said, waving vaguely in the direction of the charts. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from it.”
    “Nothing that couldn’t wait,” he said, tossing the towel into the head. “Actually I merely came to fetch a cloak. It’s turning chilly up there. You’ll need one and something on your feet when you come up.” He was opening another cupboard as he spoke. He pulled out a cloak of serviceable dark wool and slung it around his shoulders.
    Meg had resumed her seat in the window, hugging her own garment tightly to her. She could find nothing to amuse her in this uncomfortable situation, but Cosimo clearly derived some pleasure out of it. The sooner she got off this ship, the better, she reflected crossly. And then the question reared its head oddly enough for the first time. Where was he going to sleep?
    “Where are you going to sleep?” she asked involuntarily.
    “When . . . tonight . . . ?” He seemed genuinely puzzled by the question. “In here, of course.”
    In silence Meg looked at the narrow box-bed and then back at him.
    “It is a little narrow for two,” he said. “Unless of course one is particularly fond of cuddling.” When she remained silent he said with a chuckle, “You need have no fear for your virtue, Miss Meg. I’ll sling a hammock.” He pointed to two hooks in the ceiling that she had noticed and wondered about. Then, whistling softly to himself, he left the cabin.
    Meg felt she hadn’t come too well out of that encounter. In fact, she was beginning to realize that Captain Cosimo was playing with her. He seemed to enjoy teasing her, trying to discomfit her, throw her off balance. Was it simply because she’d annoyed him earlier by refusing to respond to his friendly overtures? If so, she wouldn’t really blame him. She’d probably have felt the same herself even though she’d have castigated herself for pettiness. But she didn’t think it was that. He didn’t strike her as a character who would indulge in pettiness. So what
was
his game?
    Well, she wouldn’t find out sitting here hugging herself in a cloak. She went to the clothes cupboard again and examined its contents once more. The bronze she had worn earlier would do fine, but she’d just bathed and clean clothes seemed in order. She lifted out a sage green silk gown that seemed more formal than the others. Silver lace edged the three-quarter-length sleeves and a similar band decorated the narrow hem. She’d intended to find something that would allow her to fade into the background but something perverse prodded her to make more of an effort. She laid the gown over a chair and fetched clean linen and a pair of thin woolen stockings.
    In fifteen minutes she was dressed. The only mirror was a small round glass set into the wall at the right height for shaving. Even to see her face she had to stand on tiptoe. Her hair was almost dry and she used a comb lying on the shelf below the mirror to bring the curls into some kind of order. The gown, like the one she’d worn earlier, felt a little big, but the addition of the leather buttoned boots gave her a little more height. The color suited her, it was one she often wore, so she would assume that her appearance was more than presentable.
    Now, why that should matter was something else altogether. A loud clanging and scraping as of a huge chain being unraveled interrupted her reverie. She spun round from the mirror and ran to the window. The
Mary Rose
appeared to have stopped. The sound of running feet, shouted orders, and the squeak of bolts and halyards came from overhead.
    “In port . . . in port . . .” Gus announced, hopping to the door. “G’bye . . . g’bye.”
    So they’d dropped anchor. That would explain the noise and the bustle. And the macaw was now ready to leave the cabin. Well, Meg was ready too.
    She slung the cloak around her shoulders and opened the door and Gus flew up to her shoulder and playfully pecked at