Read Online The Lady and the Captain by Beverly Adam - Free Book Online Page B

almost discern his thoughts.
    Undoubtedly, he was wondering if the first mate had lost his mind. Perhaps even been bewitched by the Irish woman into proposing. For how did the lieutenant expect to ever be promoted by having such an unconventional bride?
    She knew the second mate dared not question the officer.
    The dark brown eyes that met the mate’s inquiring watery blues were calm and detached. The commander’s manner was as it should be—confident and aloof. The protective manner he exhibited towards Sarah warned Litton against saying anything unseemly about the lady standing beside him.
    This Irish wise woman, despite her lowly social status, was now under the commander’s protection. It would be suicidal to say anything careless. That is unless he was ready to cross swords with the seasoned lieutenant.
    The second mate wisely kept silent.
    Tipping his hat correctly in Sarah’s direction, he quickly recovered his composure. He gave her a genuine smile of welcome and bowed politely over her outstretched hand.
    “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Mistress Duncan, ma’am . . . aye, a great pleasure indeed to have Commander Smythe’s betrothed aboard.”
    Other officers, upon hearing this remark, gathered around.
    Soft murmurs of appreciation over “the beauty,” and conjecture of it being “love at first sight,” were heard. Lower ranking, noncommissioned seamen nearby also observed the comely Irish colleen their master and commander had betrothed himself to.
    “Will miracles never cease?” one of the ship’s Irish gunners, a jolly man with red side whiskers, was heard to mutter. “It would appear that Lieutenant Smythe does have a beating heart after all.”
    “Aye, and who’d have thought Mister Chastity Belt capable of picking out such a winsomely pretty coo of a dove, eh?” added another. “Faith, the lass does have a very trim hull and a fine set o’ rigging up front. Aye, the commander can easily lose himself in her.”
    A Scotsman added with a touch of salty, good humor, “And smooth skin a man would enjoy in his hammock—” The seaman broke off what he was about to say next under the stern, reprimanding glance of the second mate.
    “That’s enough of that, gentlemen. Return to your duties.”
    “Aye, aye, sir.” The men nodded and hurried away.
    Turning to Smythe, Litton asked, “Did Captain Jackson survive the journey, Commander? Did you find the healer you were seeking, sir?”
    Hearing this question, the rest of the crew quieted. They listened intently to the reply of the first mate who’d taken full command of the frigate since the captain fell ill. The air about the men changed from frenzied activity to one of somber respect. They all wanted to know why Captain Jackson hadn’t returned.
    Robert shook his head sadly, removing his hat. He clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head. He gave them the solemn news.
    “Captain Jackson went on to his greater glory shortly after we landed on the island,” he boldly lied, speaking loud enough so that all the crew nearby might hear his response. “We buried him there on the island—God rest his soul.”
    The crew took their hats off in respect. A few made the sign of the cross as they said a quiet prayer for the departed soul of their deceased captain.
    “We will honor Captain Jackson’s memory on the morrow with a short service, gentlemen,” Robert said, taking full command of the ship.
    He noted approvingly their solemn attitudes. Captain Jackson had been well liked. It was still difficult to believe that one of the crew had poisoned him.
    “Aye, aye, sir,” replied the men in unison.
     
    *    *    *
     
    Robert paged through his prayer book for the last rites of burial. There currently was no chaplain serving aboard. The fifth-rated warship was too small to merit one. As the ship’s acting commander, he was expected to meet the spiritual needs of the crew. It was required of him to pay respects to the