“I’ll never know now, will I?” Willa’s smile returned, the smile that hid so many things while rendering Cullen a staring dolt, like an awkward youth trying to impress his first love. Wait, that’s exactly what he was doing.
After a long silence, he abruptly said, “I was born twenty-nine years ago on MacKenzie lands west of Inverness.”
“Exactly twenty-nine years ago?” Willa gave him a half-intrigued, half-laughing look.
“Yes. As a matter of fact, twenty-nine years ago today.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s your birthday?”
He nodded solemnly.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Ye said ye barely know me. I’m telling ye something about myself. Now, it’s your turn.”
“But it’s not my birthday.”
“Then you’ll have to come up with something else. I’ll wait.”
“All right. Here’s something.” She paused for a moment, a mischievous light in her eyes. “I don’t like people who pry.”
Cullen sucked in a breath and bit down on his lower lip to forestall the acid retort bubbling in his throat. The voyage to St. Helena was going to be the longest tour of duty in his entire career with the Royal Navy. In more ways than one.
Willa hated herself for the small pleasure she’d taken in sharing a pot of tea and simple ginger biscuits with the infernal Scotsman she’d been forced to marry.
And the nerve of him. Challenging her to resist his so-called “charms” for the years they’d be forced to share the tiny cabin adjoining the ship’s surgery. She’d shared that same cabin with her father for the six years they’d been assigned to theArethusa. And the four years before that, an even smaller living area aboard the frigate,Endmyion.
She would perform the work she’d been trained for since she was a small child. She would, by damn, continue that work in spite of Dr. MacCloud’s dubious “charms.” Her work was all she had left. There were always plenty of medical duties aboard a ship the size of theArethusa. Each day, after the morning call for sailors with illnesses, the work never ended. Doses had to be dispensed for stomach complaints, aching joints, and most of all, venereal disease. After all of her husband’s years in the Royal Navy, she was sure at some point he had had to avail himself of treatment for the clap, like the hundreds of sailors he no doubt had treated as well.
Willa shuddered at the thought of all the hidden dangers of cohabiting with a man. She knew she could not forestall indefinitely the inevitable, disgusting joining, but she would do what she could to protect herself. Dipping into her sea chest, she reached for the thin leather volume of her latest journal. She could not refuse her husband forever, but she could track the vagaries of her own fickle body and perhaps avoid conception as long as possible.
Chapter Ten
Cullen returnedto the darkened cabin with a pail of water for the morning. The one candle in the lantern on his sea chest had been snuffed. He put down the pail and struck a flint to re-illuminate the gloomy interior.
“I left only a few minutes ago. Could ye not wait until I got back to snuff the light? I might have broken my neck in the dark.”
Willa sat up suddenly, pulling the blanket to her chin. “I thought you might spend some time at whist with the officers.”
“I’m just the surgeon, not a blasted officer. And in case you’ve forgotten, it’s been a long day.” He pulled a small coil of thin rope from his pocket along with two short nails he’d coaxed from the ship’s carpenter. Cullen sank onto a short stool in the corner and tied sturdy loops at both ends of the rope.
“What…what are you going to do with that?” Willa pointed to the piece of line twined around one of his sturdy palms. She jerked the blanket higher, nearly covering her nose.
Cullen said nothing, but pulled off one boot and used the bottom of the heel to pound a nail in each facing bulkhead. He fastened the rope loops to each side and threw a spare blanket over the taut line.
After snuffing out the candle in the lantern a final time, he shucked off his remaining clothes, hanging them from wooden pegs attached to the bulkhead. With a deep sigh, he flopped onto his narrow cot, pounded his pillow a bit, and rolled to his side, praying to God he could fall asleep as fast as possible.
He was at the very edge of slumber when there was a small clearing of throat and a voice so soft in the dark from the other side of the blanket, he nearly missed her words.
“Dr. MacCloud?”
“What?” He knew his retort was overly sharp, but at this point, he didn’t care.
“I just wondered why you put up the blanket.”
Her reply was so low, he wondered if he’d imagined it. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear. I’ve never had to bed an unwilling lass, and I’m not going to start now.”
“I’m ready to do my duty.” Willa’s voice ended on a squeak.
