Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Nineteen, Part 1

Maddox and Emily had spent the entire first meal aboard ship, still docked in the harbor, staring into each other's eyes in a manner that should have been endearing, and should give Julia hope for herself, but only made her ache for everything she'd lost when she'd fallen for Athol's lies in her father's garden. She could never take a lover, like Maddox and Emily were both so comfortable doing—and out in the open like they did? Julia just couldn't do that. It was too, too common. But still, the way they looked at each other made her yearn.

This cabin, a different one than the trip to America, had clearly been set aside for the use of a woman, as it had a vanity built in and a mirror attached to the wall. She supposed Maddox had the cabin installed for whomever his mistress might be on a given voyage. Surely, Sally Grenford—Wellbridge—had occupied it at one point or another. Emily might be staying in this cabin, if she weren't blatantly sharing the shipmaster's quarters.

She brushed her hair sitting before the mirror, tidying herself, preparing for the worst, for if history held true, they would only have to be a short while out to sea before she would begin to feel the effects. She did not relish another bout of seasickness, and, once they sailed in the morning, she had but a few hours before they were far enough away from shore to make a difference. She eyed the two buckets in the corner, one empty, and one of fresh water.

At a knock on the door, she put down her hairbrush and tied the ribbon at the end of her braid.

Gills tugged at the braid on the way in the door. She stood at the door, staring at him as he walked right by her without being asked to enter. She was clothed only in her nightgown and dressing gown, preparing to sleep in the small bunk.

"You should not be here, Gills."

Gills took a seat on the bunk and stretched out his legs. "Where else would I be? And who will ever know?"

Julia sighed. "You are not going to leave, are you?"

"I would never stay where I'm not wanted." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

She laughed at that, but immediately thought the better and pursed her lips in a discouraging frown.

"Come now, Julia. We must be each other's entertainment; Maddox and Miss Kilbrierry are all wrapped up in each other, so have no time for us. And Stocke says he's planning to catch up on his reading while he has the chance. What else have we to do? We could be all wrapped up in a shipboard romance, if only you would admit your feelings for me." He came perilously close to whining.

"We are not going to have a shipboard romance, or any other sort. If you do not desist, I shall toss you overboard."

"Heartless vixen."

Julia snorted at that. "I'm afraid you will have to entertain yourself, my lord, for I am for bed. Alone. I would like to sleep while I can, before I encounter another bout of mal de mer."

"A shipboard affaire would be so romantic," Gills mused.

"Much more romantic than buckets of sick."

Gills ignored reality entirely—of course he did. "We really should take a leaf from Maddox and Miss Kilbrierry."

"She asked you to call her Emily, and there will be no taking of leaves, particularly fig leaves. Now, get out, Gills, for I wish to go to sleep." She yawned for good measure.

Gills slowly dragged himself up off her bed. "Very well, Julia. I will go until I hear the retching start. But you really should reconsider a shipboard romance." As he passed her, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, a liberty he had become accustomed to taking, in those rare moments when he hadn't made her spitting mad.