Free Becoming Lady Lockwood by Jennifer Moore

attention.
    Amelia stepped farther into the room. As with the rest of the ship, the space was used efficiently; however, that was where the resemblance ended. An entire wall of the room at the stern of the ship was windowed, which gave it a bright, warm feel. The ceiling contained skylights between the heavy wooden beams. There was a round table covered in maps and charts, a desk with the top closed, and a comfortable-looking sofa flanked by wingback chairs.
    A door stood slightly ajar on one side of the room, and peeking inside, Amelia saw that it led to the captain’s private sleeping cabin. From her brief glance, she saw that everything inside was tidy and orderly. The sheets were stretched tightly across the captain’s berth. A pair of buckled shoes sat on a sea trunk with the name Drake painted on the side, and an oilskin coat hung above it. Against one bulkhead was a simple washstand with a basin and a mirror. Shaving implements and a hairbrush lay in an open box that sat next to the basin. A lantern hung on a hook above a small table. Not a thing was out of place.
    She turned away, feeling uncomfortable for snooping, and walked around the sitting room. Glass-fronted cabinets lined the far wall, and she spent some time looking at interesting objects that the captain had apparently acquired in his travels, as well as perusing his books. Selecting a book, she walked toward the sideboard table and took a biscuit, some eggs, and a cup of tea. Sitting at the round table, she took care not to get any crumbs on the captain’s maps. She studied the charts and measuring instruments while she ate her breakfast, trying to make sense of the equations and markings. When she had finished, she returned her plate and cup to the sideboard and settled with her book on the bench below the window, but she did not read.
    The seat was comfortable, the sun warm, and the view of the sea mesmerizing. Amelia turned and pulled her feet up onto the bench, leaning her back against the wall. This was undoubtedly her favorite spot on the ship, she decided. As she watched the rise and fall of the waves and the way the light played upon them, her mind turned to the man whose quarters she was occupying. It seemed that every time she thought she understood Captain Drake, she found herself surprised by the man. The accounts she had heard from crew members presented his character as kind and thoughtful. She’d even seen evidence of this in the bath he had arranged for her and the fact that he had thought to spare her from the unpleasantness of ship’s discipline by allowing her to wait in his private quarters.
    Perhaps it was best to stop assuming the worst when it came to him. But as soon as she had the thought, she remembered these dealings were so unlike her personal encounters with Captain Drake. He had yelled at her, accused her of deceit in her marriage to his brother, and called her character and behavior into question. How could she make sense of it all?
    As she pondered on this, a knock sounded at the door, and the man himself entered, leaving the door slightly open behind him. She saw the corporal present his arms.
    Amelia stood, and the captain’s gaze moved to linger momentarily upon her bare feet, which were exposed briefly as she swung her legs from the bench.
    “Good morning, Captain,” she said, tucking her feet beneath her skirts.
    “Good morning, Miss Becket.” He rubbed his eyes, and she saw for a brief moment evidence of the strain of a captain’s responsibilities.
    “I thank you for allowing me use of your quarters, sir. They are very comfortable.”
    “You are welcome.” He indicated for her to join him in the sitting area before he sank heavily into a chair.
    “And I haven’t had a chance to thank you for sending Riley to my cabin with hot water yesterday. It was much appreciated.”
    He glanced at her then rubbed his eyes again.
    “I should leave.”
    “I apologize, Miss Becket, for my lack of conversation this