Read Online Silver Storm (The Raveneau Novels #1) by Cynthia Wright - Free Book Online

"Put this on for now. Lie down, get some rest, while I
think of a plan for tomorrow."
    Devon climbed into the hammock without a
word, drained of energy and anxious for an hour or two of deep
sleep. It seemed years since she had awakened in her bed above the
Linen and Pewter Shop.
    At that moment yellow light flared in the
doorway. Startled, Devon turned her head and saw a candle in a
chamberstick held aloft by a dark, masculine hand. Her eyes
widened, shifting to broad shoulders, then meeting the steely gaze
of Captain Andre Raveneau.
    Devon automatically looked down to make
certain her jacket was closed, then returned her eyes to the
shadow-shrouded figure across the cabin, praying that the gloom
would hide her burning flush.
    Raveneau wore his usual loose white shirt,
carelessly buttoned only halfway up his chest, fawn breeches, and
black knee boots. Devon thought him stunningly handsome, yet
terrifying. Did he know who she was? Could he see? Her heart raced
anxiously.
    "Jackson, who the hell is this?" he demanded
abruptly.
    Caleb could be heard clambering over
hammocks, then he was standing at Devon's shoulder. "I'm not
certain, Captain, but I think I heard Mr. Lane say he's a new...
ah... surgeon's mate. Came on yesterday while you were ashore."
    Raveneau lifted an interested brow at these
words as Devon turned to Caleb, staring incredulously.
    "I can scarcely believe anyone would sign him
on without my knowledge, but they must have known I'd welcome a
surgeon's mate." Raveneau looked at Devon. "Christ, but you look
young! Is your father a physician?"
    "Yes, sir," Devon agreed, trying to speak in
a deeper, boyish voice.
    "What's your name?"
    "James, sir." Her brother's name.
    "All of it, sailor." Raveneau was looking
skeptical.
    "Uh... Hugh James."
    "All right, James, I'll give you a try.
Whatever skills you possess may be greatly appreciated in the weeks
to come. For now, though, I have other tasks to occupy you until a
bit of surgery comes along. Come with me." As Devon left her
hammock, he said, "Jackson, you're excused. I'll let you sleep
tonight so that we may preserve your eyes for the sails awaiting
your attention tomorrow. They have missed you!"
    Caleb winced at the sarcasm, but also at the
sight of Devon following Andre Raveneau out the door. It would take
a miracle to carry her undetected through a private encounter with
that man. Caleb had planned to keep her so well hidden among the
seamen that Raveneau would never have noticed her. He groaned aloud
and muttered, "Perhaps my luck will hold until we're at sea. I
can't afford to be tossed off the ship for that child!"
    * * *
    Devon felt paralyzed, yet her legs were
moving. How should she act as Hugh James, surgeon's mate? she
wondered. And what could Raveneau need at this hour?
    She scrambled along behind the captain, who
moved down the narrow gangway with practiced ease. She watched the
back of his head, noting the texture of his clean black hair, and
remembered with poignant clarity the kiss they had shared almost a
year ago. A rush of excitement swept through her. After all, this was the Black Eagle and she was traversing the berth
deck alone with the legendary Andre Raveneau. The possibilities
were staggering! Wasn't this the very situation she had dreamed of
for years? She was going to sea, aboard the most notorious
privateer of them all!
    The captain's cabin was the farthest aft.
They passed the officers' quarters and the wardroom before reaching
it, and Devon was conscious of a progressive improvement in the
accommodations. In this self-contained world where a man could
never be alone, even when he went to bed, only the captain
possessed a haven of privacy. Raveneau's was singularly
comforting.
    There was a roomy built-in bed of polished
mahogany, sturdily built but inviting, a matching drop-front desk,
and a simple table. A wing chair, upholstered in glove- soft red
leather, stood near the desk. All the furniture was attached to
either the bulkhead or the