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anxiety that Catherine could not dismiss. There was a violent energy to
the wind and waves like nothing Catherine had ever experienced before. The
storm felt like some ancient portent, signaling the coming of a great change. A
shiver slid down Catherine’s spine at the thought. She determined to take her
mind off of the tempest outside and settled down with a slim volume of poems. Her
attempts to read, however, were short-lived. The rough motion of the vessel and
the sound of the wind grew in violence. Struggling to stay in place, Catherine cast
her book aside and determined to prepare for bed. The thought of being under
the covers gave her a small sense of comfort, a reminder of times spent with
her cousins, hiding under their beds during summer storms. Catherine laughed at
the childish notion and opened her trunk quickly and began her night’s
preparations.
    Staggering under the pitching motion
of the ship, Catherine finally managed to exchange her linen gown and
petticoats for a loose cotton nightshift. She freed her hair from its primly twisted
plaits, leaving the long tresses hanging in a golden curtain to her waist. In
the mirror Catherine could see what a riot of curls the plaints had created.
She stuck her tongue out at the sight and turned to the sanctuary of her bed
prepared to ride out the storm. At the same moment, a huge surge struck the
ship, sending a shuddering groan throughout the oaken timbers. The floor suddenly
shifted under Catherine and she fell sideways, knocking against the desk with great
violence. Catherine cried out as she landed roughly on the floor, a sharp pain
spreading through her arm. In agony, Catherine cradled the aching limb and struggled
to regain her feet. The pain was quickly replaced by a feeling of shocked
surprise when she was suddenly picked up bodily from behind. Catherine spun
around, her breath catching, as she found herself held in the firm embrace of
Captain Knight.
    “Are you hurt,” he asked hoarsely,
his face mere inches away from hers. “I heard your cry as I passed…. Are you
hurt?” he asked again, his words carried on ragged breaths. She could not
answer, could scare breathe at finding herself in such close proximity to the
captain. Catherine was pressed against the full length of his body, the rain water
of his oilskin jacket seeping into the cotton of her nightgown. Her face flamed
at being found in this state of undress, but the rough motion of the ship and
Captain Knight’s imprisoning embrace kept her from drawing away. She starred at
Knight mutely for several long moments before she could finally answer his
question.
    “I… I fell,” she said in a hoarse
whisper, her wide blue eyes starring into his with growing alarm. “I fell and
hit my arm… but I am alright…” she could not think of how to continue, of how
to escape from this strange, unwonted embrace. Held close against Knight’s
chest, Catherine could see glistening jewels of water caught in his jet black
hair, its silky texture slick against his brow. In breathless fascination she
watched as droplets fell, coursing their way down the angular planes of his
face to trace the fine lines around his mouth. More disturbing, however, were
the dark flames that burned within his eyes.
    Captain Knight slowly pulled one hand
away from Catherine’s waist and ran it down the length of her injured arm. The
heat from his fingers burned like fire as they traced a careful path across her
forearm. A faint mark was already apparent on the surface of the skin and
Catherine caught her lip between her teeth as his fingers brushed over the
spot. Knight heard her indrawn breath and starred at her once more. “It is not
broken… you will be fine” he said, his dark eyes glittering wildly. “There will
be a mark, but you will be fine” he said again, his voice rough and uneven.
Catherine could only give a tiny nod at his words. Knight’s eyes roved over the
features of her face, taking in the beautiful eyes, the