Free Mistress of the Sea by Jenny Barden Page B

looked Fownes up and down, from his fat calves to his fluffy hair, to his white-bowed shoes.
    ‘His temper is quick.’
    Fownes looked round and edged away.
    Will nodded and smiled.
    ‘I thought I should warn you.’
    At that Will stepped aside, and watched Fownes continue in a meandering circuit like a ponderous beetle temporarily stunned. When eventually Fownes settled on his course, Will was satisfied. The gentleman doubled back, away from Cooksley’s house.
    ‘Are you coming in to get warm, Mistress Ellyn?’ Nan poked her head round the parlour door. ‘You’ll catch a chill in those damp things.’
    Ellyn pulled at her gloves in a show of removing them and looked back through the window towards the steps to Will Doonan’s door. He was nowhere to be seen. In fact, for almost two days since the incident of the kiss, she had failed to make any contact with him, and she was still none the wiser as to whether he would soon be leaving. She kicked off her overshoes, conscious that her stockings were wet and her toes were cold; then she saw a blur of movement outside.
    ‘Yes!’ Ellyn announced, hurriedly putting the shoes back on. ‘Though I thought I might pick some quince. I noticed there were a few ready when we came through the garden just now.’
    ‘But it’s pouring!’ Nan protested while Ellyn slipped away.
    No sooner was she in the garden than Ellyn saw Will striding towards her.
    ‘Master Doonan!’ She tried not to look flustered in the midst of pulling over her hood. It was drizzling hard. Rain dripped from Will’s hat and down his oilskin cape.
    ‘Should you not be within, dear lady?’ His blue eyes glittered as he looked at her. It was enough to make her almost forget what she meant to say.
    ‘I shall not be long . . . I merely wished to say . . . how much we have all enjoyed your spices.’
    He smiled broadly behind a trickle of raindrops.
    ‘I understand you may be leaving for the Indies.’ She wiped the rain from her face, unsure how best to continue.
    Will leaned towards her, but all Ellyn heard was Nan’s cry from the house: ‘For the love of Jonah, come inside or you’ll both be drowned!’
    Ellyn sensed Will was behind her as Nan gestured frantically for them to take shelter. Huddled up and dripping, they were bustled into the kitchen.
    ‘I’ll leave you two to dry,’ Nan said, with a conspiratorial hush to her voice. The latch clicked, and next they were alone by the crackling fire.
    Ellyn untied her cloak and Will lifted it from her shoulders.
    ‘Let us speak directly,’ she said, shivering. ‘We may not have much time.’
    His answer was to draw up a stool and beckon for her to sit.
    ‘You are cold,’ he said. ‘Come close to the fire.’ He took off his hat and cape and spread all the outer-clothes across the end of the table; then he joined her by the dancing flames.
    ‘Your hair curls when it is wet.’ He looked at her intently. ‘It becomes you.’
    Without thinking, she reached for a ringlet that had sprung into a tight coil by her cheek.
    ‘I wish my hair was straight.’
    ‘I do not.’
    ‘I wanted to say . . .’ Why was Will talking about her hair? She tugged at the sodden ringlet and tried to tuck it back behind her ear, though by a brush of dampness, seconds later, she knew the strand had bounced out of place. Two days ago Will had kissed her, and now they were together again – and alone. She wanted to ask what he felt for her, but how could she in all modesty?
    ‘Is it true you are sailing for the Indies?’ she blurted out at last.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Yes,’ she echoed softly, suddenly hurt – hurt so much she was lost for words.
    Will gazed at her steadily.
    ‘Once Captain Drake has provisioned his ship, then we’ll set sail. Your father may help with that. He’s backed the Captain before. But we may not be ready for another month.’
    ‘Only a month?’ She looked at his strong, solemn face, and the sandy stubble over his firm chin. ‘I thought your