Gabriel felt like laughing but he bit his lip—he didn’t think she’d appreciate his humor just now. Getting to his feet, he crossed the deck and reached out for her hands. Reluctantly she gave them to him, and he helped her up through the hatchway and, with an arm about her waist, led her back to the cockpit. The sunken space had a built-in seat made comfortable with cushions, and he settled her there before correcting their course again.
From the corner of his eye he could see her trying to breathe, her eyes closed as she lifted her face to the brisk wind. The air was cold and she shivered, wrapping her arms about herself.
“Poor sparrow,” he murmured.
She shot him a suspicious look, as if she mistrusted his sympathy.
“Do you think you can steer us while I go below and find you a blanket or two? You’ll soon get frozen up here.”
“Steer the boat?” she croaked.
“Don’t worry, you won’t capsize us. At least I don’t think so. Here, hold the tiller right here. Remember, you have to push it in the opposite direction to the one you want to go. But you shouldn’t need to do that; just hold it steady.”
Tentatively she placed her hand on the wooden tiller and he covered it with his, feeling her cold skin and the tremble in her arm. Sweet, bossy Antoinette Dupre was in a bad way.
“That’s it, keep her steady,” he said gently.
“Like this, do you mean?” She sat up straighter, concentrating. Above them the sails flapped as the wind gusted and the boat cut through the green water, flying along. It was invigorating, and, studying her face, Gabriel thought she was actually beginning to enjoy herself.
“Just hold it there. I’ll be back in a moment.”
She looked a bit panicky and her fingers tightened as he removed his. He felt her tension as he left the cockpit and made his way to the hatchway and slipped below.
He stripped some blankets from the bed, and while he was there also grabbed a flask of liquor and a tin of biscuits, perfect food for the seasick. Carrying his bounty, he returned to the deck. Her nervous gaze was fixed on the hatchway, waiting for him, and when he appeared she couldn’t disguise her relief.
“All right?” He sat down beside her and began to wrap the blankets around her, tucking them in carefully about her feet.
“Yes. Thank you.” She sounded stiff and formal, avoiding his eyes.
“Have a sip of this.” Gabriel unscrewed the flask and handed it to her. She sniffed it suspiciously. “Brandy,” he said. “It’ll help settle your stomach.”
She looked as if she might refuse, but changed her mind and took a sip anyway. After a moment she took another. He handed her a biscuit.
“Nibble on this. Nothing worse than an empty stomach when you’re seasick.”
This time she didn’t argue. “Do you ever get seasick?” she said, after a long pause.
“Only if it’s very rough.”
“I thought you said this was rough?”
“There’s some rough weather coming but not today. This is just brisk, Antoinette.”
She mulled over his information. “Is this your boat?” she said, watching as he adjusted the tiller.
“Yes. She’s called Sea Witch.”
“Oh.”
He could see the question on her lips and decided to put her out of her misery. “And no, I’m not Priscilla Langley’s son, legitimate or otherwise. And yes, the boat is named after her.”
“Was she really a witch?” she asked dreamily, snuggling down into the blankets and the cushions, closing her eyes.
“I wonder that myself. She was an herbalist, and people came to her for help; even the local doctor deferred to her on some matters. She had a way of getting to the heart of a problem that was uncanny, and sometimes she seemed to know what was going to happen before it did.” He smiled, remembering her prediction that a brown bird would be his downfall. He wished now she’d offered him some more advice on how to keep that little bird by his side forever.
Gabriel glanced at Antoinette and found she’d fallen asleep. Careful not to wake her, he slid his arm about her and drew her closer, so that her head was resting on his shoulder and her body was snuggled into his. She was soft and warm, and a strand of her hair blew across his face, bringing with it her sweet scent.
He wanted to protect her and look after her. The feeling was new to him, but it felt good, it felt right. The pity was she belonged to someone else. Or claimed she did, he thought, holding her closer. She made a murmur and wriggled against him, a smile on her lips. Gabriel decided he’d have to persuade her differently. Her body already knew she was his; all he had to do was convince her heart and mind.