Free Commanding Heart by Madeline Evering Page A

his joy at having her back on her
feet he let it pass. He gave Catherine a broad smile, and then excused himself
to return to his duty.
    The remainder of the morning and
afternoon passed without incident for Catherine. Through careful effort she
managed to avoid the captain entirely during her time on deck. The hands had all
greeted her warmly; genuinely glad to see her return after a long absence.
Catherine thanked them each in turn for their kind wishes and assured all that
she was quite well. But her heart remained troubled and she looked forward to
the evening meal with great trepidation.
    Alone in her cabin that evening, a
worried Catherine stood, awaiting the usual summons to supper. She had dressed for
dinner with great care, donning a simple white muslin dress which she then
layered over top with an Indian shawl of deep blue silk. Fashion dictated a
short-sleeved gown for evening, but the bruise that showed on Catherine’s arm
was too vivid a reminder of what had transpired in her cabin during the storm.
She removed the shawl from her trunk, wrapping it about her carefully to hide
the dark bruise from view. Secreted by the shimmering shawl, the mark and its unwonted
reminder were somewhat removed from her tempestuous thoughts.
    That same sense of self-preservation
led Catherine to arrange her hair with great care: she tightly coiled her heavy
tresses in a bun at the base of her neck, with no stray wisp allowed to escape
the security of her pins. In every way Catherine strove to create an impression
of control and restraint in her person – an impression completely at odds with
the inner thoughts and feelings that tormented her.
    After an agonizing wait, the expected
knock came and Catherine stepped to the door in response. Once again, Tom
Foster waited to escort her to table. His face lit with great delight as
Catherine came forward. “I am glad to see you about, miss” he chatted eagerly;
“I heard you were back on deck today, completely yourself again!” Catherine
gave a wry smile at the thought, then gave herself a small shake, determined to
keep self-pity in check. “Thank you, Tom” she said with gratitude. “It is due
to your kind care that I am on my feet again.” The boy smiled hugely at her
words and led her forth with pleasure.
    When she reached the great cabin’s
dining room, Catherine took a quick, reassuring breath before walking forward
with pretended calm to be seated at the table. The officers all came to their
feet at her approach, each caught by the incredible sight of Catherine on this
evening. Although her careful efforts in dressing had been to create a
controlled, restrained appearance, the end result was very different.
Catherine’s tightly wrapped hair served only to further accentuate the planes
of her pale face, the smoothness of her brow, the beautiful lines of her
cheekbones touched with red. As for the covering shawl, its deep blue color
echoed the shade of Catherine’s eyes so completely that the brilliance of her
gaze shone like jewels from behind their thick frame of lashes. The effect was
completely striking; no man could help but notice, including Captain Knight.
    Once Catherine was settled, the
others took their seats as well, each speaking their welcome at Catherine’s return.
Catherine thanked them simply, trying desperately with each address to avoid
looking in the captain’s direction. It was not to be. Catherine froze as the deep
timbre of Captain Knight’s voice came to her directly; “May I add my
compliments, Miss Gibson, at your return to our table? I am very pleased to have
you rejoin us, and to see you looking … so well” he finished solemnly.
Catherine grasped her hands tighter in her lap before looking at the captain.
She felt the rush of color in her face as their eyes met and knew she could not
speak in reply. Catherine worried at what she would read in his face, but there
was no trace of humor or derision as she had feared. Instead, Captain