Free The Ideal Bride by Stephanie Laurens

anchor. Presumably lunch would be served soon.
     
      She debated, but decided against leaving Elizabeth . With a sigh, she sank back onto the chair.
     
      Sometime later, a soft tap sounded on the door. Elizabeth slept on; crossing the cabin, Caro opened the door. Michael stood in the corridor holding a tray.
     
      “Campbell picked out what he thought you and   Elizabeth   would like. How is she?”
     
      “Still sleeping.” Caro reached to take the tray.
     
      Michael gestured her back. “It’s heavy.”
     
      With her shawl covering her, Elizabeth was decent enough; Caro stepped back. Michael carried the tray to the table; she followed, studying the plates as he set the tray down.
     
      “Once she wakes, you should try to get her to eat something.”
     
      She glanced at him, then grimaced. “I’ve never been seasick— have you?‘
     
      Michael shook his head. “But I’ve seen plenty of others who were. She’ll feel weak and woozy when she awakes. Now that we’re back in calmer waters, eating something will help.”
     
      Caro nodded, looked back at   Elizabeth .
     
      He hesitated, then said, “Geoffrey’s a trifle queasy, too.”
     
      Caro turned back to him, eyes widening in concern.
     
      “That’s why he hasn’t been down to ask about   Elizabeth . He’s not as badly affected as she—he’ll be better off in the open air.”
     
      A frown creased her brow; he suppressed an urge to run his thumb over her forehead and ease it away—squeezed her shoulder lightly instead. “Don’t worry about Geoffrey—Edward and I will keep an eye on him.” With a nod, he indicated Elizabeth . “You’ve enough on your hands.”
     
      Caro followed his nod, remained looking at   Elizabeth . He hesitated, then turned away. As he opened the door, he heard Caro’s soft “Thank you.” Saluting her, he stepped out and softly closed the door.
     
      Back on the main deck, he joined the other guests around the tables Ferdinand’s crew had set up to display the delicacies of an alfresco meal. He chatted with General Kleber, who’d spent the previous day touring Bucklers Hard, the center of the local shipbuilding industry, then moved on to speak with the duke and the count, furthering his understanding of their country’s views on a number of pertinent trade issues.
     
      Once the meal was over and the tables cleared away, the ladies gathered behind the forecastle to gossip. Most of the men drifted to the rails, finding spots to lounge and enjoy the sunshine. The breeze, previously brisk, had faded to a gentle zephyr; the soft slap of rippling waves was punctuated by the raucous cries of gulls.
     
      A postprandial peace settled over the yacht.
     
      Michael found himself at the stern, for the moment alone. Ferdinand, deprived of Caro’s company, had initially sulked. Now he’d cornered Edward Campbell; the pair were lounging against a capstan. Michael would have wagered a considerable sum that Ferdinand was trying to learn more about Caro via her secretary. In that, he wished him luck; despite his relative youth, Campbell seemed well up to snuff, experienced enough and sufficiently devoted to Caro to ensure he revealed nothing useful.
     
      Drawing in a breath, filling his lungs with the tangy air, Michael turned his back on the rest of the yacht and leaned on the stern rail. The junction of Southampton Water and the Solent lay some distance away; beyond, the Isle of Wight rose, a silhouette across the horizon.
     
      “Here—try some of this. It’s quite bland.”
     
      Caro’s voice. He glanced down, and noticed the open portholes. Elizabeth must be awake.
     
      “I’m not sure…”
     
      “Try it—don’t argue. Michael said you should eat, and I’m sure he’s right. You don’t want to swoon again.”
     
      “Oh, heavens! How on earth am I to face him—or any of them? How mortifying .”
     
      “Nonsense!” Caro spoke bracingly, but it