“I’m becoming rather fond of it myself. I certainly feel stronger since I’ve been here.” When she flashed a smile—free of guile—Brand’s breath caught. “I can only hope I won’t fall victim to the lung ailment once winter returns.”
“That’s a long time off. You needn’t worry about that. Besides, there is no winter in India.” Why the devil was anxiety rising in his chest? He didn’t care what she did with her life once he bedded her, right?
Some of the light died from her eyes and she glanced away from him. “Perhaps. I haven’t decided if I’ll go just yet. I suppose I should attempt to discover if there are positions I can fill here before the travel date approaches.”
“If that is what you wish.” Brand gave himself a stern shake. Focus on the seduction, man! Put her at ease and at your advantage. “You’ve told me about your childhood. Could I persuade you to share something from the days when you finished schooling as a young woman?”
“Like what?” She sniffed a plate containing savory beef hand pies.
What indeed? He’d never had cause to learn about any of the women he’d bedded. Brand shrugged, then reoriented himself so that he kept her on his right-hand side. “Perhaps a dream you had from that time in your life.” As he reached for a slice of cheese, she did the same and their fingers brushed. Heat shot up his arm as if he’d been struck by lightning and the cheese fell from his hold.
Elizabeth chuckled. Amusement danced in her eyes and showed in her expression. What was it like to live free from the cares and concerns of life, or perhaps despite them? Suddenly, he wished she would teach him. “Here.” She handed him the cheese then secured her own. “A dream from girlhood.” Her clear blue gaze remained glued to him, and the bite of cheese he’d taken stuck in his throat. “Very well.”
Brand fumbled in the basket for the flask of ale. He quickly manipulated the top and took a swig before he made a fool of himself in front of her by coughing that bit up.
“I suppose what I wanted above all things at that age was to dance with a dashing stranger. He’d wear formal dark clothes and I’d have on a beautiful flowing gown. We’d indulge in the exercise all night beneath the candlelight, then he would whisk me away to somewhere private, pay me compliments, and declare his undying love to me.” A faint blush stained her cheeks. She looked away from him to tear a chunk of bread from the fresh-baked loaf. “It’s naught but a silly dream made by a young girl, but…”
“Yes?” In his mind’s eye, he could envision her gliding across a highly polished dance floor in the arms of a gentleman.
“Such things fade when one is grown.” Elizabeth shrugged but a hint of sadness lingered in her expression.
“Not necessarily.” He nibbled on some cold cut meat and bread. “Your dream wasn’t to become a woman of the church or on the mission fields?”
“No.” The blush intensified. “That was my parents’ dream, as well as William’s, but I want… more.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I want to see the world, to immerse myself in other cultures, to help less fortunate or privileged peoples succeed or survive because…”
“Yes?” He was fairly hanging on her every word.
A tiny sigh escaped her. “I suspect there’s not just one way of living, of worshipping, of thinking, regardless of what William or the church says.” She slid her gaze back to his. “I want to find that out for myself.”
Brand’s respect for her as a person and a woman rose. “That is absolutely true, and an admirable wish. I felt the same way in the Navy. Traveling is one of the best opportunities to see the world and understand life is bigger than each of us.” The vision in his mind shifted, and now instead of dancing, he saw her standing in the bow of his sloop, her hair loose and waving in the wind as he navigated the ship through the North Sea to points unknown.
Then he shook his head to clear the image. He didn’t wish for a permanent attachment. Elizabeth was only here for a seduction. Nothing more. Once he’d accomplished that, it was over, and he could rejoin his life prior to meeting her.
That is the plan so stick with it. I don’t need complications.
“Please tell me of the battle in which you lost your eye.”
He swung his gaze to her, searching for the morbid curiosity so many others had shown, but there was nothing except compassion and interest. “Why?”
“Perhaps talking about it will help you heal.”
“It was a long time ago. I’m fine.” The growl in his voice told her to stay at a distance. “There is no purpose in talking about it, for it won’t change the outcome.” And it certainly wouldn’t get her into his bed any quicker.
“Brand.” Elizabeth laid a gentle hand on his knee. The touch sent streaks of need up his leg to lodge in his stones, and he shifted uncomfortably. “I’d like to hear your stories, to find out what has made you into the man you are today. And if, in the talking, you find you can release some of what you’ve been holding onto out of guilt or fear or whatever else, then I’ve done a small part to help your life improve.”
For long moments he stared at her while he clutched the flask of ale in his hand. Every day that went by she was proving herself different than any other woman he’d known. She offered him a bit of peace. How long had it been since he’d had that? It was both nice and terrifying, for he didn’t know how to handle a female like that. Finally, he nodded. “All right.”
She nodded. A serene smile curved her lips. “Good.”
“It was during Battle of Grand Port on the Isle de France in the Indian Ocean that my naval career ended.” He took a swig from the flask then sealed the top and set it aside. “The French had squadrons of frigates in the water. They attacked us—the British Royal Navy. It was seven days of hell, and damn, seven years ago right now.” He marveled at that. It seemed like yesterday. “We were ordered to blockade the port to prevent the bastard French from capturing the fort.”
“Obviously, that didn’t go well.”
“Oh, it failed spectacularly.” Brand chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Four of the five French ships broke past the blockade and took shelter in the protected anchorage. One could only access it through a complicated route between reefs and sandbanks. Their captains were skilled, I’ll give them that. Our commander, Captain Pym, ordered us to pursue. We all knew our ships couldn’t navigate the shallows, but we obeyed anyway. We were either trapped by the French or grounded in the sand.”
“I’ve heard the French were merciless during the war. Did they destroy everything?” The concern and compassion in her face nearly broke him.
He quickly looked away. “Oh yes. After they were done firing on us with cannons—which we returned with gusto—we were forced to set fire to our ships that were grounded to prevent their use by the French. Men either drowned, were captured, or made it to land, where I assume they were taken prisoner or killed.” He shrugged and closed his eye as memories washed over him. The scent of cannon fire and gunpowder clogged his nose. Screams of injured men and the annihilation of the wooden ships crashed in his ears. The heat of the blazing trapped ships warmed his skin as if he just passed them in the water. “I was the last in line and managed to reach the harbor, but the French squadron, led by Commodore Jacques Hamelin, intercepted. My ship was seized and boarded. Hand to hand combat ensued.”