Blackwells: My Timeswept Heart Part 3

slung a leg over the rail and braced himself before he

lifted her more comfortably in his arms and stepped

fully onto the deck.

"G.o.d save us! It's a woman!"

"Astute observation, Mr. Potts," the captain

quipped dryly, gently laying his catch on a blanket

Duncan had ready, then kneeling beside her.

"Throw her back, Captain," the boatswain

pleaded. "Aye, 'Tis a sign. A b.l.o.o.d.y curse to have that aboard!" The captain ignored the superst.i.tious pleas and

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pulled back the clumps of hair from her face and bare shoulders. The grumbling gradually quieted as he revealed more and more of the woman to their eager eyes.

"Lord in heaven! She's naked!"

"It be a b.l.o.o.d.y mermaid!" A deck hand gawked. "Look at that skin!" He pointed a shaking finger at her shiny black covering.

Captain Blackwell tossed the blanket over her bare limbs and slipped an arm beneath her back, lifting her upright. She coughed and water spilled from cracked lips.

"Oohh," she moaned, lids fluttering upward for a breathless moment.

Tess Renfrew stared into eyes of the palest green, thinly rimmed in dark jade. Her stinging gaze sketched the owner's face. What a hunk, she thought, before she slipped deep into unconsciousness.

Capt. Dane Blackwell quickly gathered the woman in his arms and came to his feet, then strode to the pa.s.sageway. Kicking open the door to his cabin, he carried her to his bed and gently laid her in the soft center, then settled down beside her. Cautiously he removed the satchel strap wrapped around her sunburned shoulder and tossed the brightly colored case on a nearby chair. Smoothing the hair from her face, he tenderly pulled the ebony ma.s.s from beneath her, noticing that the area where her shoulder and arm met was swollen. How long had she been in the sea?

"Sir?"

Dane nodded acknowledgment, unable to release his gaze from the woman as Duncan set a tray laden with cloths, pitcher, and bowl on the com-

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mode beside him.

"I am at a loss, Duncan." He spoke softly as if the admission shamed him. "If this were a man I would not think twice about stripping garments from such wounds, but a woman . . . Lord, look at this thing!" He plucked at the garment, feeling the fabric give beneath his touch.

Duncan smiled indulgently. Fierce and cold-na-tured as he appeared, Captain Blackwell was truly a gentleman.

"Allow me, sir," Duncan said, solicitously unfolding a sheet and draping it over the woman. Gingerly he reached beneath the coverlet and with instructions to the captain, they carefully removed her clothing.

Duncan stared in amazement at what remained in his hand. "It appears to have shrunk, sir." The shiny black garment was half the length it had been on the woman.

Dane took it, pulling it this way and that. "Keep this to yourself," he said, tossing it with the satchel.

Duncan nodded, coming around to his side of the bed and pouring water into the bowl, soaking a cloth, then wringing it out. He held it out to the captain.

Dane shook his head. "You were the married man, McPete."

"I believe twould be best, sir, if the lady suffered only one humiliation when she awoke. Both of us seeing her unclothed would be too much of a shame for her to endure."

Dane cast him a side glance. "You've deduced she's a lady, have you?"

"Oh aye, Capt'n." He grinned. "Bones like that do not belong to some tavern wench."

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Silently Dane agreed, accepting the cloth and gingerly cleansing her face and throat. "Lady or not, considering the horrible state she's in, I've no doubt she'll be most grateful."

Duncan's lips twitched. "No doubt, sir." The young man had no idea he was holding the la.s.s's hand, Duncan decided, moving to a cabinet and collecting creams and bandages. He glanced up when he heard the captain curse. "A problem, sir?"

Dane tossed the sheet back to her knee, revealing a shapely calf with a swollen ankle. "The lady appears to have crossed an angry jellyfish. Have Higa-san prepare one of his compresses to ease the sting and swelling, and fill my bath, Duncan, with cool waters. Her body is too parched for this sponging nonsense."

Duncan obeyed quickly, and within moments Dane lifted the woman, sheet and all, and entered his private bathing room, gently lowering her into a large hip bath. He forced cool water between her chapped lips, stroking her throat to make her swallow.

"That will be all, Duncan. I can manage." Dane pulled a small stool beneath him as he drizzled water over her head.

"Aye-aye, sir. Shall I see that the cook prepares a clear broth, perhaps, for the lady?"

"Aye, but tell him not to rush," Dane murmured softly, if a bit sadly. "I fear this battered creature will not survive."

"Let us pray you are incorrect in your judgment, sir." Duncan moved away from the bath's threshold, taking the few steps to the door.

"Duncan?"

"Sir?" he replied, his hand on the bra.s.s latch.

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"How do you suppose she came to be floating in the sea?"

Duncan blinked owlishly. "I cannot imagine, sir." The manservant knew the captain wasn't really asking him for a solution, he was simply thinking aloud; Captain Blackwell detested being ignorant of any situation.

"And what of that dolphin, holding her above the surface like that?"

"Peculiar, sir. I'll have fresh water warmed if you need, sir."

Dane didn't acknowledge the offer; he was wincing over her blistered and burned skin. "G.o.d's teeth, but she's a d.a.m.ned mess!" Dane muttered, lifting her arm and gently rinsing away the sheen of salt.

"Aye, Capt'n." There was laughter in his voice. "And as we're both quite aware, sir, she's a beauty as well."

Dane jerked around to comment on the man's brash a.s.sumptions, but the servant was gone, leaving Capt. Dane Alexander Blackwell alone with his mysterious charge.

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CHAPTER FOUR.

Duncan McPete hovered over the woman lying in the captain's bed, applying cool compresses to her face and throat. The door burst open, and he looked back over his shoulder to see Captain Blackwell's tall form filling the portal.

"The fever's come, sir."

Dane's gaze shot to the woman, "Why did you not send word?" he barked, storming across the room, unbuckling his sword and laying the s.e.xtant and charts aside as he moved.

Duncan stepped back. "She showed no sign until now, sir."

Dane froze at the side of the bed. Her loveliness seemed cast in rose porcelain, so still she lay. Her shoulders and arms exposed above the pristine sheet were bare, the blistered skin showing the signs of healing. A thin mist of perspiration glistened on her complexion like a dusting of crystal powder, and yet with the aid of Higa-san's mysterious potions, the fiery redness was fading. Her lips were pasty white. Dane gingerly sat down on the bed, his fingers unwill-

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ingly sifting the river of black that spilled over his pillow. It was l.u.s.trous, nearly blue but for the few coppery wisps that haloed her forehead and temples.

Who are you, my lovely? he silently asked. Are you the witch my men claim you to be? What forces put you in the sea? And what of your big gray friend keeping vigil at my bow?

Dane shook himself, drawing back his hand as if burned, suddenly aware he was being watched.

"If you desire, Capt'n, you may return to the quarter deck. I will tend her." Duncan soaked a cloth, then moved to place it on the woman's forehead.

"Nay!" An arm shot out to block his way. "Nay," he added in a softer tone. "I am not needed." He paused. "And I'm famished, Duncan."