Cullen stilled. He was midway through his late-night walk with his cane to build his strength and surprise Willa. Mr. Parker had deemed him ready to exercise on his own and had ordered the cane from the ship’s carpenter.
He leaned hard on the wooden support and tried to think of a reason for what he’d just seen. His wife, with her head down, had walked solemnly away from First Lieutenant Dalton on the darkened gun deck. He had to stifle a chuckle when Dalton did not appear to be happy with whatever exchange he’d had with Willa. The first lieutenant had turned toward the hatchway and slammed up the steps toward the top deck.
Cullen gritted his teeth and tried to tamp down his anger. He was still battling headaches and dizziness in the aftermath of his beating on Gibraltar. The helpless feeling that kept overtaking him rose up like bile in his throat. There was something just below the surface he struggled with each day and every restless night in his hammock in sick bay. A feeling very much like worry mixed with a heavy dose of terror for Willa’s safety haunted him. If only he could remember why he’d gone into Gibraltar that day…
Fatigue overtook him and settled the question of what he should do. He headed back to the sick bay, and Mr. Parker’s ministrations.
Willa walked into the surgery with her mind a fog the next morning and nearly missed noticing Cullen hobbling toward the patient log. “You shouldn’t be doing that, should you?”
Surgeon’s Mate Parker came toward her with a steaming bowl of porridge he’d brought from the galley along with the patient rations for the morning. “Of course, he shouldn’t, but ever since he’s been sneaking in short walks on his cane, he won’t listen to me.”
“Then you’ve discovered the horrible truth I’ve been forced to endure.” Willa pulled out a stool and sat next to an examining table.
Parker set down the bowl for her and counted off on his fingers: “He’s a stubborn Scot. He listens to no one. He thinks he’s invincible.”
“Yes, that’s it. You’ve summed him up perfectly.”
Cullen looked up from the log and peered at her above his spectacles. “Are the two of you talking about me behind my back?”
“No. We’re saying you’re an impossible Scot to your face.” She had to smile at her irascible husband. He was a grumpy, immoveable mountain of a man.
“How long have you been ‘sneaking’ walks?”
Cullen gave her a long look before admitting, “Long enough.”
Willa kept her expression neutral, but a stab of cold dread slithered down her back. Could he have seen her meeting the dratted Dalton on the gun deck?
“Then perhaps you’d better come up top with me for sick call at the main mast.” Morning watch had ended and the sick bay’s loblolly boy was ringing the bell on all decks for sailors who were ill to gather at the main mast.
“I’ll work with him at the mast today, Mrs. MacCloud” Parker nodded toward Cullen. “He’s a handful to keep upright when he loses his balance on that stick.”
“Good idea.” Cullen intervened with his concurrence to Parker’s suggestion before bracing himself against the surgery table on his way to retrieve his cane.
Willa continued catching up entries in the surgeon’s log after Cullen and Parker departed for the upper deck. She’d just jammed her spectacles back up the bridge of her nose for the third or fourth time when she looked up to see Lieutenant Dalton standing in front of her.
She turned her head to call out to Mr. Ward, but he was busy with a patient in a far corner of the sick bay.
Dalton spoke low. “That young dolt is not going to save you, so don’t bother calling him over. He knows better than to gainsay me on this ship.”
Willa took off her glasses, folded them flat, and leaned close to Dalton. “What do you want? I do not have the time or inclination to play at your childish games.”
“What did you do with the locket?”
“Were you in my cabin again? Surely the guard stopped you.”
“Captain Woodall had need of him and decided you were safe enough while working in sick bay.”
“You couldn’t find the locket this time?”
“I won’t ask again. What did you do with it?”
“It’s hidden somewhere safe. Somewhere you will never discover, so don’t waste your time sneaking about our cabin. And besides, Dr. MacCloud is nearly well enough to re-join me there. You might get an unpleasant surprise one of these times when you’re in the mood for thievery of my belongings.”
Willa noted with pride a blood-crusted scratch on Dalton’s face from the night before. “If you keep showing up on deck with wounds, ship gossip will run wild. There will be all sorts of speculation.”
Dalton stole a look over Willa’s shoulder at Mr. Ward’s progress with the patients. He gave her an odd look before suddenly grasping her face with one hand and pulling her close. “Never think your worthless husband, or even Woodall’s marines can make you safe. You belong to me.”
When she wrenched her face away from his grasp, he turned on his heel and headed out the door to the upper deck.
