Free Carola Dunn by Lady in the Briars Page B

sheltered nook, Esperanza sat dressing and undressing the rag doll Annie had made for her, crooning to it in a mixture of English, Russian, Spanish and some African language.
    Every now and then, Rebecca glanced back to make sure her charge was safely occupied. She happened to be looking when a sudden gust of wind seized the doll’s best dress and whirled it away.
    Esperanza cried out in dismay, jumped up and ran after the scrap of bright blue cloth, the naked doll clutched to her chest. Rebecca called to her, but her voice was lost in a sudden spate of orders from the duty officer and the rush of sailors to the rigging.
    A stronger gust struck and the ship heeled. Rebecca reached for the rail behind her, keeping her balance with difficulty.
    Esperanza was sent sprawling. John leaped towards her but the ship heeled further and she slipped towards the rail, wailing in fright. The doll flew over the side and vanished in the wind-tossed spray.
    Diving across the deck, John slithered the last few feet and caught the child by the ankle. Her little hands were already clutching air above the water. Rebecca watched in breathless horror as they continued to slide, then John fetched up against the rail, too big to pass between the bars.
    Sails lowered, the ship began to right itself. John rolled onto his back with Esperanza clutched to his chest as she had held the doll a moment since.
    Rebecca pulled herself towards them along the rail against the now vigorous rolling of the Daisy 0. A pair of sailors came running, their bare feet confident despite the motion. One took Rebecca’s arm and steadied her.
    “Cap’n says ye’d best go below, miss. There do be a squall ablowin’ up. Seth’ll bring t’babby. That were a neatish piece o’ work, m’lord!”
    The other was picking up the sobbing Esperanza as John struggled to his feet.
    “Dolly!” she wept. “Dolly’s drownded.”
    John took her from the sailor. His face was scraped, he was breathing hard, and he limped a little as they made their way below, but he was grinning.
    “You see,” he said simply, “we sportsmen are not altogether useless.”
    While Teresa fussed over Esperanza and Annie promised to make a new doll, Rebecca told them what had happened as she cleansed John’s wound. His gaze was on Teresa’s face, and he flushed when she came to throw her arms around him, kiss his good cheek and thank him fervently for saving her daughter. He watched her as she went into her cabin to fetch a salve from her medicine chest, even as he shook hands with Andrew and accepted his expressions of gratitude.
    Rebecca was sad for him, and almost angry with him. The long days of enforced intimacy at sea had shown her beyond a shadow of doubt that Teresa adored her husband. Their frequent disputes quickly blew over, leaving their love strengthened. Though she was fond of her cousin she often mocked him, openly comparing his profligate life with Andrew’s successful career. Rebecca longed to shake John and tell him to forget her.
    “Here is the ointment.” Teresa came back with a small glass vial. “Will you put it on, Rebecca? You only need the tiniest bit. Perhaps you should join the Navy, John, since you are becoming expert at saving people from drowning.”
    “I only rescue females, and only the pretty ones.” He reached for Rebecca’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you, gentle nurse. And thank you, Rowson.”
    He took the offered glass of wine from Andrew’s servant, whose services he was sharing for the voyage since his own valet had refused to travel. Rebecca was glad of the distraction. She turned away, hoping that no one had noticed her blush. It was most disconcerting to be suddenly reminded of the indecent condition John had seen her in after pulling her out of the river.
    Her confusion had not escaped Teresa’s observant eye. Rebecca was in her cabin that evening, preparing for dinner while Annie gave Esperanza her supper in the saloon, when Teresa knocked and