Like on the ship, he lays on his back with a hand across his broad tattooed chest, face peaceful in sleep, and I want to memorize him like this. When I reach out to touch his hand with my own, his lashes flutter, and his eyes open. My hesitation lasts for only a moment, gone when he smiles, stretches, and grabs my hand, pulling me to his chest.
“Good morning,” he says into my wild, wavy hair, arms wrapped around me.
“Good morning,” I smile against his skin. “I see you decided to make yourself at home.”
“Sorry to have invaded your room. I can go.” He makes to move, but I clutch at him, hoping my desperation for him to stay isn’t evident in the movement.
“You can stay, it’s nice to have a familiar face around in a strange place.”
“Oh, well in that case,” I can hear the smile in his voice, and my heart flutters as I rest my head on his chest. His heart beats steadily under my ear, but it is a regular rhythm, not the speeding flip-flop that my own seems to be performing. “Andromeda, I – ”
Footsteps outside the door interrupt his statement and a sharp knock sounds, causing me to sit up.
“Yes?” I call toward the door.
“Andromeda, we need to talk!” Lyra’s voice pulls me from my lovesick reverie, dread replacing it.
She knows.
Chapter 26
Lennox pushes up, but I shove him back down on the bed and motion for him to stay put. Wrapping myself in one of the discarded sheets from the bed, I pad to the door. With a deep breath, I square my shoulders, turn the lock, and open the door. Lyra stands smiling in the walkway holding a tea service like a servant, but her eyes widen and brows lift at my attire and disheveled hair as I stare at her with pursed lips.
“How may I help you so early, Lyra?” I ask dryly.
“Andromeda, we need to talk. I’m sorry if Grandmama offended or upset you. Please let me in.” The young woman is guileless as she pleads, her sparkling hazel eyes illuminated by the sunlight and tears she holds back.
Her reaction gives me pause; perhaps she truly didn’t know her grandmother’s intentions and is afraid to lose a friend. I sigh and let my shoulders drop, moving aside so she can squeeze into my room with the tea tray. A squeak escapes from her when she makes it far enough into the room to view Lennox. The noise makes my lips quirk in amusement as I shut the door, and spin to face the room.
Captain Lennox sits on the edge of the bed wrapped in the coverlet from the waist down, bare-chested and blushing like a maiden, while Lyra opens and closes her mouth like a landed fish. Refusing to meet her uncle’s gaze, her eyes flit over my torn and discarded shift, our clothing in wild disarray, and the door that stands open between our chambers.
“I… um… I’m sorry to have… uh… interrupted,” Lyra stutters, as if she wasn’t raised in a brothel and doesn’t know her uncle and I have been in bed together numerous times since we boarded his ship. Knowing something and seeing something are two very different things, though.
“Good morning, Lyra. I was just… uh, going.” Lennox smiles at us as he tightens his grip on the coverlet and stands to dash into his quarters. I smile indulgently at him as he scoots past Lyra, sketching a small bow to me before he shuts the adjoining door behind him.
“Now that you have interrupted my pleasant morning, what is it that you want, Lyra?” I ask, facing her with my arms clutched around the sheet covering me. While I don’t blame Lyra for her grandmother’s words, a drip of acid seeps into my voice at the memory of feeling cornered in her study last night. Curiosity eats at me to know what she’s been told, ordered to do, or to find out, as I sit on the stool near my vanity and indicate she should sit as well.
She gently places the tea service on a table and gestures to it in question. I shake my head in response, so she pours a single cup for herself — the aroma of bergamot and black tea wafts toward me. The silence lingers heavily as she adds milk and sugar cubes before sitting and taking a sip.
Once fortified, she begins, “I could tell you were uncomfortable last night at dinner, but I don’t know why. Is it because we kept so many secrets from you?” She takes another sip, eyes studying me as I sit in silence, waiting for her to continue. “When you swept from the study and out the door, I wanted to follow you. But Uncle took off after you, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Judging by what I walked in on, maybe I was right in that inclination.”
Her eyes dance with mirth as she smiles wickedly over her cup, and from her playful tone, I can tell she has no ulterior motive. She is genuinely concerned for her friend, and I have been rude. Unable to resist her charm, I allow my lip to quirk up at the corner in response.
“Your grandmother… surprised me… last night with the direction of her questioning when I entered her study. I’m not sure what she may have told you about me or my past, but I would prefer to leave yesterday far behind. That’s why I agreed to this trip. That, and watching over you, which now I know was a ruse to encourage me to get on the ship in the first place.” I sigh, relaxing a bit as I continue.
“This was supposed to be my chance to get away from everything I’ve run from for so long. To be safe. But it seems as if all this journey has done is serve to remind me that the past is never truly buried,” I confide without divulging any important details.
Lyra gently sets her cup on its saucer and looks at me, chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought. “Andromeda, I know that you are frightened of something that happened to you before. Grandmama didn’t tell me what happened, but I know that she has been working with my uncle for a long time now to help women escape just like they did for you and me… and Charlie,” Lyra’s voice hitches when she mentions her dead lover.
She takes a deep breath before continuing, “I have no right to ask you, but please speak with her again. Alone. Without a party of sea captains in the house. She has presided over this island for so long, and they’re prosperous and happy here. She isn’t a bad woman. I can’t imagine she has ill intent for you.”
“What do you mean she has presided over this island?” I question. My curiosity, a blessing, and a curse, is piqued. I know this is bait to get me to talk to Marie again, but I cannot resist the pull.
“Grandmama is the head of the republic here on the island; handling the governing and trade. The men in the room last night are all elected from their ships to represent the different crews who do business here. Grandmama represents the permanent residents of Delosia. They all vote on it, and she has held the position for a very long time,” Lyra explains.
“So the island is run like a pirate ship?” I ask, still confused.
“Ha!” Lyra laughs, “I guess you’re right — that is the same way they elect captains. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yes. I suppose it is.” She sips her tea quietly as I think about her statement.