Blaike: Secrets Gone Askew by Collette Cameron

Author:Collette Cameron
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2018-04-16T16:00:00+00:00

Even when motives are pure and good-intentioned, divulging a

secret is akin to opening Pandora’s box. All manner of complications may

arise, so judiciously consider the consequences before opening your mouth.

~Scruples and Scandals-The Genteel Lady’s Guide to Practical Living

Oliver winced as he slid a palm inside his shirt collar.

Sure enough. His fingertips came away damp and red-tinted.

Confound it.

Served him right for pushing himself too hard too soon. If Blaike had seen him acting the rigging monkey to rescue M’Lady Lottie before the twins came up top today, she’d ring him a peal, to be sure.

After making quick work of removing his coat and vest, he shucked his shirt. He seldom wore neckcloths at sea. No society hoity toities aboard the Sea Gypsy to look down their noses at him in condemnation for forgoing fashion for common sense.

Truth to tell, he only had two neckcloths in decent condition, and those he saved for times when a cravat was required.

Even the coat he donned this morning was for the benefit of the Culpeppers. He usually just captained the ship wearing a shirt, trousers, and boots.

Bright scarlet stained the cloth affixed to his shoulder, and he wrinkled his forehead in frustration as he rummaged through the basket of bandages.

How hard could it be to replace the scrap?

He scowled.

Cutting the bindings circling his ribs and back he could manage, but wrapping new ones might prove tricky.

Hawkins should be along any moment to discuss tonight’s activities. Care needed to be taken that none of the men overindulged, and monitoring the crew fell to the first mate. Especially since the clouds on the horizon portended what could become a nasty squall.

Oliver had plotted a course that should keep them ahead of the tempest; if the wind held, that was. But at sea, as he’d learned a long time ago, nothing was guaranteed. Far wiser to always assume the worst and take precautions.

Hawkins would advise divine entreaties, but prayer without a plan seemed foolish.

Oliver glared at the linens binding him. His first mate could be pressed into lending a hand with the bandage, though he was as worthless as Oliver with this sort of thing.

Scissors in hand he stood before his washstand. He tilted the mirror to better see his wound and had just slipped one blade under the strips below his arm when a knock rattled his stateroom door.

“Come.”

As usual, Hawkins’s timing was impeccable. What would he do without the man?

Neck bent to see his handiwork, Oliver clamped his teeth against the shooting pain and edged the blades farther under the bands.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Blaike.

He started and jabbed the blade into his ribs.

“Ouch, blast it! I nearly impaled myself.” Withdrawing the scissors, he sent her a frustrated scowl. “What are you doing?”

“Your dressing should’ve been changed hours ago.” Her lovely eyes grew round as groats as she raked him with her reproachful gaze, then they narrowed to accusatory slits. “Oh, Oliver. You’re bleeding again. What have you been doing?”

She hurried to him, unclasping her cloak as she flew across his quarters.

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