Part 8 (2/2)
”Petersham, you must see that this is not the time to be concerned about conventionality,” she tried to explain. ”Captain Hale is very ill, and needs care. The rest of you have duties about the s.h.i.+p, which leaves me to be his nurse. Would you have me shrink away because he is naked, and leave him untended?”
”I will be glad to take over the nursing, my lady. When Mr. Harry told me that you were to do it, I did not fully comprehend the-uh--delicacy of the task.”
”Oh, for goodness sake,Petersham !”Cathy exclaimed, exasperated. She was too annoyed to p.u.s.s.yfoot around. ”You must be aware that I-that he-well, that our relations.h.i.+p is scarcely that of brother and sister. Inshort, Iknow allabout the Captain. The sightof his body is no novelty to me.”
Cathy blushed at her own boldness. Three weeks ago she would never have believedthat shecould have spoken with such a total lack of modesty. But her words were the plain truth, and there was no sense in wrapping them up in fancy clothes. She lookedupto seePetersham regarding her coldly.
”Be that as it may, my lady, such sights are not fit for one of your s.e.x and tender years. Will that be all, my lady?”
Cathy sighed, and dismissedhim.Petersham'sunexpected prudery was a difficulty shedid notfeel equippedtodeal with at the time.
For the next five days Cathy nursed Jon devotedly. She cleaned and tendedhiswounds, andcalledDr. Sandoz anxiously when they showedsigns ofswelling. The gash on his thigh began to putrefy. Dr. Sandoz lanced it, draining off the yellow pus with its streaksofred blood into the basin which Cathyheld forhim. Jon's hands and feet were tied to the bunk frameforthis operation, and his screams of pain were bloodcurdling. Tears rained down Cathy's cheeks, but she steadfastly kept to her place. She gathered up the gory bandages afterwards, and then when Dr. Sandoz untied Jon's limbs she gatheredhis sweat-soaked head to her breast, holding it tightly whileshecrooned over him. Her wordless murmurings seemedto soothe him and he dropped off intoatroubledsleep,his head still cradledonher breast.
Inaddition,she fed him,spooning thin gruel into his mouthatregular intervals and holding his lips pressed tightly togetheruntilhe swallowed. She gave him water,and appliedhot compresses to his inflamed thigh. As his feverrose shebathed him almost hourly with cool water, but this no longer served to lower his body heat even slightly. Hisnatural functionsshe tendedto herself,knowing thatPetersham would faint with disapproval if she were to ask his a.s.sistance. Her total dedication to his well-being surprised everyone, including herself. Cathy would never have imagined that she, who had never so muchaspicked up one of her own discarded dresses, could care so intimately and selflessly for another human being.
Despite her tender nursing his condition steadily deteriorated. Dr. Sandoz, when he came, looked grave and shook his head, which drove Cathy almost out of her mind with worry. Jon'scontinued high fever was the most serious threat he faced now. The doctor could only advise Cathy to bathe him frequently, and see that he had plenty of liquids. Otherwise, the captain'srecovery was in the hands of G.o.d.
Jon frequently became agitated beyond her ability to control him as his temperature soared, and Cathy was forced to summon eitherPetersham or Harry to help her with him. Both men gradually lost their stiffness with her and came to look upon her as one ofthemselves . Cathy pacifiedPetersham by a.s.suring him that, as soon as Jon'scondition permitted, he would be dressed in a proper nights.h.i.+rt. But for the time being, evenPetersham realized that Jon'sillness was too severe to allow Cathy to spend time worrying about such a nonessential as modesty.
Cathy'scomplete devotion to their captain'swell-being won her friends among the crew as well. They would speak to her respectfully when she went out on deck for a breath of fresh air, their manner completely devoid of the lewdness that had marked their earlier perusals of her. For this, Cathy was thankful.
On the sixth day, Cathy could see, and Dr. Sandoz confirmed, that Jon had reached a crisis. His temperature had to be brought down or he would die.the doctor advised frequent cool baths mixed with a large amount of prayer. Cathy snorted angrily as he left. Prayer was a good thing, as she had frequently found, but one of Martha's most-loved axioms was that the Lord helped those who helped themselves. With that in mind, Cathy sent for Harry and told him that he was to send the entire crew of the ”Margarita” out to scour Cadiz for ice. When Harry protested that there was no ice to be found in the humid Spanish city, Cathy refused to listen. If Jon was to live, she must have ice to lower his temperature. The Lord could work on providing the ice.
He did. Harry returned less than an hour later with a huge block of it. Cathy's pale face mirrored her relief.
”Thank G.o.d! He's getting worse! Here, help me with this.” Cathy set Harry to chipping off small chunks of ice and floating them in a large basin full of water. When the water was icy cold, she had him soak a sheet in it and then wrapped it around Jon's fever racked body. He moaned, but Cathy repeated the operation relentlessly, replacing the sheets as soon as Jon's body heat warmed them. They worked for what seemed like hours, soaking, wrapping,then soaking again. Finally perspiration popped out in tiny beads on Jon's brow.
”It's broken!” Cathy whispered, scarcely able to believe that the small droplets were real. ”Oh, Harry, the fever has broken!”
In an excess of joy she flung herself into Harry's arms. They closed around her automatically. It took her only an instant to recollect herself and pull blus.h.i.+ngly away. She looked up at Harry, suddenly shy, and what she saw in his face stunned her. He was gazing at her with naked adoration, his eyes showing that he was in love.
”Let me go, Harry,” Cathy ordered tremulously, greatly disturbed by this new complication.
”Lady Catherine-Cathy. . . .” he began. Cathy knew that she had to cut him off before the situation got out of hand.
”You mustn't forget Jon, Harry,” she said gently, glancing back at the bunk and trying to free her hands.
”Jon.” Harry repeated blankly. Then, coming to himself, ”Yes, the Captain.”
'Yes, Jon, the Captain,” she repeated with gentle mockery. Her eyes warned him to say no more. After a moment his hands fell away from her.
”I'm sorry. Please forgive me,” Harry muttered, then turned on his heel and strode from the cabin. Cathy shook her head, moving back to hover over the bunk. Jon was still unconscious, but he seemed to be resting much easier. If not for the little scene with Harry, this would have been one of her happiest days since Jon became ill. Oh, why was everything always so complicated?
Love was a funny thing,Cathymused later, as she wandered across to look out the window. It could grow in the most unlikely places. It was absurd and yet a little sad that Harry, who had so despised her, should now be helplessly in her thrall. Whywas it that adoration in the eyes of one man was a matter of total indifference, while if another man were to look at her in such a way. . . . Cathy's breath caught as she pictured Jon's gray eyes soft with love. Then she grinned. Jon would never plead with a lady for her affections. He would demand them as his right, and, if they were withheld, he would fall into a towering rage!
”Cathy?” Jon called weakly as he had many times over the last few days. Her presence never really penetrated his clouded mind, but he seemed to find it comforting to have her sit beside him, holding his hand or bathing his fevered brow.
'Yes, Jon, I'm here,” she answered, coming to stand beside the bunk and looking tenderly down into his dark face. What she saw this time surprised her. The gray eyes were open and seemed tobe comprehending as they fixed on her.
”Jon!” she exclaimed joyfully. ”Can you see me?”
”Of course I can see you.” His voice was weak, but a thread of irritation at her seemingly ridiculous question laced the words.
”How do you feel?” Cathy sat down on the edge of the bunk beside him, her hand going automatically to stroke his forehead. It felt cool, she noted with relief.
”Like h.e.l.l,” he said bluntly. 'What day is it?”
'Wednesday, the twenty-second of June, 1842. You've been unconscious for the past six days.”
'What happened?” he asked, a frown wrinkling his brow as he tried to remember. Then, before she could attempt to explain, his eyes fastened themselves on hers, anger burning in their depths. ”You little fool, don't you know you could have been killed, or worse? Beautiful blondes likeyourself fetch a mint in the brothels around here. If that had happened, no one would ever have heard from you again, and they would have used you until you died of it! G.o.d, of all the cities in the world to run away in, you pick Cadiz! And of all the places in Cadiz, you wind up at the 'Red Dog,' the hangout for every hunted man on this coast! I couldn't believe it when I saw that ridiculous sheet and followed your trail there! G.o.d, when I heard all those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds laughing inside, I thought I was too late!”
He was growing increasingly agitated. Cathy caught his hand, trying to calm him before he caused himself an injury. The long fingers fastened around her wrist with surprising strength.
'You're not to try such a thing again, do you hear?” he asked fiercely. ”I'll keep you safe if I have to lock you up! I'll . . . !”
”You don't have to, Jon,” Cathy told him quietly, not even trying to free herself. ”I won't run away from you again, I promise. I'll stay until you're ready to let me go. Now, you must be quiet. You've been very ill. Would you like some gruel, or a drink of water?”
Jon stared up at her, his eyes plumbing the depths of hers. What he saw there must have rea.s.sured him. He released his stranglehold on her wrist to sink back more comfortably against the pillows.
”Gruel!” he snorted. ”'If that's all you've been feeding me, no wonder I feel weak as a newborn babe! I want real food, and a bottle of red wine!” ”Not until Dr. Sandoz has seen you,” Cathy denied firmly, a small smile tilting at the corners of her mouth. ”For now, you can eat gruel and like it!”
Jon started to protest, caught her eye, and grinned himself. ”It seems that I'm at your mercy for a change, my cat. Well, do your worst. My turn will come again soon enough.” Cathy stuck her small tongue out at him playfully, then got off the bed and crossed to the door to yell for Petersham . She could feel Jon's eyes boring into her back as she moved. When the valet appeared at a dead run, she smiled at him. ”The Captain is awake at last, and hungry. Would you please bring the usual,Petersham ?” ”Thank G.o.d!”Petersham exclaimed, and hurried away to do her bidding. ”The old goat was worried about me, huh?” Jon grimaced as Cathy came to perch on a corner of the bunk.
”Everyone was.”
”Everyone?Even you?” The words were said casually, the long lashes dropping to veil the gray eyes.
”Even me,” she answered honestly, smiling at him when he flicked a quick glance at her. ”Especially me,”
she could have added, but she didn't.
”Then you know how I felt when I found you gone,” he murmured, his lips twisting a little as he caught
her hand and carried it to his mouth. The touch of his hard mouth against her palm jolted through both of them like an electric shock. Cathy pulled her hand away, laughing shakily.
”Enough of that!You mustn't get excited, you know. You've had a very high fever and. . . .”
”Just looking at you excites me,” he said half under his breath, his fingers reaching again for her hand.
Cathy's heart quickened but she refused to give in to the warmth that flooded her. Instead she jumped to
her feet and moved jerkily toward the door.
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