Free Windswept by Cynthia Thomason Page A

way you think. Sid has plans for him all right, but they don’t include her, except perhaps in a roundabout way. My cousin is, and always has been, fiercely, and mundanely loyal to her dear Thurston.” She grinned over at Nora, mischief evident in her green eyes. “Which leaves you, dear heart, as the target of Mr. Hadley’s undying affection.”
    “That’s nonsense Fanny,” Nora protested. “Mr. Hadley is only staying until he is able to travel again, and…”
    “Bones heal slowly, cherie .”
    “… and , I have no interest in him whatsoever. He’s not a man who would appeal to me, nor I to him most likely.”
    Fanny tapped a long fingernail against her lip. “Still…you could do worse, cousin. He’s not hard on the eyes. He has a successful career, and while his clothes were ruined, they were of the best quality, rather like those belonging to that Hyde fellow,” she said with a baffling grin. “Perhaps Sid has the right idea after all.”
    “Humph! What utter nonsense.” Totally ignoring her manners, Nora scraped the remaining chowder from the sides of the mug with a thin crust of bread. “Go home, Fanny. I’m beginning to think you need rest more than I do.” She plopped the soupy mixture into her mouth and grinned like a cat.
    Fanny stood and stretched and looked out a window. “Very well. I’ll go.” The feline smile was suddenly etched on her lips as well. “I won’t be leaving you alone however. I see the Dover Cloud just pulled into port.” With a flounce of her soiled skirts, Fanny left.
    Nora turned and looked out the same window Fanny had. It was almost pitch dark and yet her cousin had recognized the shape of Jacob’s schooner when Nora could only see shadows. “She must have special telescopic vision where men are concerned,” Nora said to herself, envying yet another of Fanny’s talents which had not been passed down to her.
    Within minutes the shadows on the dock moved toward the warehouse. Nora crouched down on the bench as the men came inside and headed directly for the soup kettle. All but one that is. In the lantern light, Jacob Proctor was clearly distinguishable. He bypassed the food and strode to the staircase leading to the second floor.
    “Can I bring you a mug, Jacob?” Willy asked. “You’ve hardly eaten today.”
    Jacob’s heavy boot hit the first step. “Aye, maybe later, Will. Save me some.”
    He proceeded up the stairs while his men gathered around the kettle. Now was Nora’s chance. If she was ever going to speak to Jacob, it had better be now. The men didn’t give her notice as she passed them by and climbed the stairs behind him.
     
    Jacob’s back was to her when she reached the cupola. This time he apparently hadn’t heard her ascent because he didn’t speak. He appeared intent on the dark horizon to the east where the floundering ship still listed on the reef. Lights from houses in town were visible over his shoulder. Stars twinkled in an ebony sky. No one would have known that just hours before, a violent storm had buffeted the small island.
    All was calm now, except, Nora thought, for the man whose head was bent in contemplation. His arms on the railing, his hands threaded and hanging in the air, and his shoulders tight with tension, he seemed a coil of pent emotions. She considered leaving him to his thoughts, but didn’t.
    “Excuse me, Captain?”
    His back straightened, and a shudder seemed to ripple down his spine as he turned toward her. She couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but his mouth was set in a grim line. “Nora,” he said in a low voice. “What are you doing here?”
    She took a step closer to him. “I had to talk to you,” she began. “I had to apologize.”
    “Apologize? For what?”
    She ran her hands down her dirty dress in an unsuccessful attempt to smooth the skirt. She was a mess, and yet she had ignored her appearance to follow Jacob to the cupola. Her hair had come loose. Errant spirals spun around her head