He tilted his head to one side, his expression inscrutable. “Letting Jonesy have a go at it.”
She took a deep breath, willing her racing heart to slow. Her cheeks heated from guilt at being caught in his cabin, a feeling as annoying as it was unwarranted. “Just checking I hadn’t forgotten anything.” She glanced around one more time, making sure she had collected all her things when she’d vacated the cabin. Tears had blurred her vision while she packed.
“Should we find anything you missed, I’ll forward it. Zach has your direction.”
How formal and polite they were being. Harriet wanted to scream.
He stepped fully into the cabin, his presence taking up all the space so that she had trouble finding enough air to inhale. Sunlight coming through the window burnished his black hair, glinted on his gold earring. Her cheeks heated anew, recalling what she’d done with that earring and her mouth. She quickly switched her gaze to his face, aiming for his blue eyes and not his lips. Memories assailed her anyway of how she had brazenly explored the jagged edges of his chipped tooth with the tip of her tongue, not to mention other parts of his mouth. And allowed him to explore hers as well. She knew what his lips felt like on her neck, her ear, his big hands stroking her thighs, caressing her bottom, and dear lord how she wanted to do it all again, and more.
“The horses will be getting impatient. I should go.” She meant to step around him, never touch him again, but he lifted his hand palm up, and out of ingrained habit, she held up hers, palm down.
He gently grasped her fingers and bowed at the waist, and dropped a soft kiss on the back of her hand, his lips lingering on her skin. Unlike the courtly, impersonal gesture he’d performed when they first met in a crowded ballroom, he held onto her hand and leaned in to tenderly kiss her cheek.
“Farewell, Harriet.”
Hearing his low, quiet voice speak her given name felt like a caress to her auditory senses as much as his hand on her skin. She closed her eyes against the overwhelming sensation, swallowing hard. If she allowed even one tear to fall, she feared she’d crumple to the deck in a puddle.
He straightened and their hands fell to their sides.
“Goodbye, Nick.” With a last look at his beautiful blue eyes, the most somber she’d ever seen them, she hurried past him and out into the passageway, not trusting herself to look back.
Smitty met her at the steps to the aft hatch and handed her a folded slip of paper. “Your accounting, Miss.”
Harriet took the paper, trying to hide her trembling from her encounter with Nick, and wanting to not panic in front of the purser. How deeply was she in Nick’s debt? She unfolded the first part and gasped when she saw the figures. “This can’t be right.” The only charges were for clothing and accessories from the slop chest, rental of one horse in Porto, and several meals ashore.
Frowning, Smitty opened his mouth to protest.
She waved her hand to erase any insult. “I thought it would be much higher, that’s all.” He wasn’t even charging her for half the cost of the cannon that went overboard.
Smitty’s expression cleared. “The Old Man said to charge you what it cost for you to come along to fetch the horse, instead of if he’d gone on his own.” He handed her a small leather purse that clinked.
She peeked inside, startled to see it full of coins. “I don’t understand.”
“Your wages.” He gestured for her to finish unfolding the paper and read.
The accounting continued, with debits for expenses, credits for wages, and the final tally at the bottom. Wages?
“We rated you as landsman on the trip to Portugal and upgraded you to ordinary seaman for the trip back.” He gave her a grin. “Normally it takes a lot longer for a green sailor to get bumped up, but Bos’n said as how you was a quick study.”
Still shocked at being paid wages—she had just been helping out to pass the time and defend the ship to ensure her own survival—the indirect compliment from the taciturn Bos’n banished some of the chill in her bones. “Bos’n bumped me up?”
Smitty nodded. “With the Old Man’s approval, of course.”
Nick approved. Harriet tucked the purse in her waistcoat pocket so her trembling wouldn’t make the coins clink. “Of course.” She hefted her portmanteau.
Smitty extended his hand. “It’s been a pleasure sailing with you, Harry.”
“With you as well, Smitty.” She shook his hand, gave him the best smile she could muster, then hurried up the ladder.
There was a crowd around the hatch. Every crew member was on deck it seemed, in a line leading to the gangboard. Jack stuck his hand out, and she shook his callused hand. She dropped her portmanteau to the deck when he drew her in for a gruff hug. “Fair winds and following seas,” he said when he released her.
“To you as well,” was all she could get past the lump in her throat. She barely registered that her bag had been picked up and was being passed along from man to man to the rail and down the gangboard as she said goodbye to the crew. She and Chang exchanged bows. She got “Arrivederci,” and a kiss to her fingers from Luigi. “Auf wiedersehen,” and a bow from the waist from Dieter. “Ach, lass,” and a hug from Tucker. A handshake and clap on the back or a tug on the forelock from the others. Jonesy interrupted his conversation with the harbormaster on the quarterdeck to give her a jaunty salute.
A month ago, she and these sailors would have barely acknowledged each other had they passed on a street, and now it felt like she was saying goodbye to dear friends. Holding her head high to keep the tears from falling, she walked down the gangboard for the last time and joined Zach on the dock. He was conversing with Norton while tying her portmanteau on behind Tesoro’s fancy Spanish saddle.
Norton took her hand in both of his. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you,” he said. He slipped her a small tin of salve when he let go.
She managed a tremulous smile as she tucked it in her coat pocket. “You as well.”
