Whisper of Magic by Patricia Rice

Author:Patricia Rice [Rice, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance paranormal psychics, romantic comedy, humor, aristocrat, nobility
ISBN: 9781611385861
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2016-05-31T07:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

By evening, it became obvious that the ship would not make the mouth of the Tyne at a reasonable hour. Erran gathered up hammocks from below and carried them to the cabin, where Miss Rochester sat on a smaller bench and sewed by the light of an oil sconce. Her useless companion still lay groaning on the larger seat.

Erran seriously regretted letting the lady talk him into this. No matter how much he wanted to succeed at the task of removing the Rochesters to their own home, he knew better than to travel with a woman, and still, he’d let her overcome his common sense with female illogic. At the moment, he was just relieved that he wasn’t being battered by bitter complaints. Yet. As the ship pitched and night fell, he braced himself for a tirade.

“Even if we can sail upriver and reach port tonight, it will be too late to disembark and find an inn,” he explained as he hooked up the hammocks. “We will have to sleep on board.”

The storm had mostly passed, but the sea was rough. Miss Rochester cast her moaning companion a look of concern. “I don’t suppose there are blankets or pillows to make Mrs. Lorna more comfortable?”

“I’ll find blankets. Is there anything in your trunks that might be rolled into a pillow?”

She wrinkled her patrician nose. “My petticoats will have to do. I’ve more linen in my sewing basket. I can wrap them in that.”

Expecting the usual female complaints, Erran was surprised by her calm resilience, but he refused to give her the pleasure of knowing it. He nodded curtly. “I’ll leave you to prepare for bed. I trust our crew, but once we’re up the river in Newport, the ship will be accessible to thieves. I cannot in all conscience leave you alone. If Mrs. Lorna sleeps on the bench, I’ll take this other hammock.”

He watched in satisfaction as her eyes widened in alarm, but still, she said nothing. He’d really wanted her to speak so he could judge whether she hated the idea or not. But she was perceptive and had learned to stay silent to give him no hint.

After he’d correctly judged her relief beneath her earlier cold declaration that he could leave or stay, she was rightly wary of speaking.

She wanted him near her. To his disgust, Erran was learning how a beautiful woman could inflate his pride. Previously, his only relationships with women had been of the mutually satisfactory physical kind. He’d never tried to please one.

He wanted to please Miss Rochester.

The companion did not do no more than moan while they made arrangements. By the time Erran returned with blankets, Miss Rochester had turned off the lamp so he could not admire the full effect of her slender form without billowing skirts. But he was painfully aware of her as they arranged the hammocks and blankets in such close proximity.

Their chaperone was almost completely useless.

Acting on his urges was a sure way to fall into the parson’s mousetrap.

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