The scent clinging to him was delicious, filling her nostrils with sandalwood, musk, and the barest hint of verbena.
“I will need to fetch a shawl.” Her voice was huskier than she would have liked.
“Of course.”
He escorted her to her cabin in silence, which allowed other sounds to dominate—the surefooted confidence of his steps, the accelerated rate of her breathing, the steady whoosh of the water against the hull.
She entered her room in a breathless rush and shut the door with indecorous haste. Sucking in a gasping breath, she drew Beth’s widened eyes to her. The abigail dropped her darning on the table and stood.
“Lord, but yer flushed,” Beth said in the calm, authoritative voice that made everything—including a journey to Jamaica—seem both possible and well in hand. She moved to the pitcher and basin by the bed to fetch a damp cloth. “Yer not falling ill, are you?”
“No.” Jess accepted the compress and held it to her cheeks. “Perhaps I had more wine than I should have with supper. Can you fetch me a shawl?”
Beth dug into the trunk at the foot of the bed and withdrew a black silk shawl. Jess traded the cloth for the garment with a grateful smile.
But Beth’s frown did not diminish. “Maybe you should rest, milady.”
“Yes,” Jess agreed, damning herself for opening a discussion with Caulfield. She could have waited until daylight, at least. Or better yet, she should have left the questions to her steward, who could have subsequently provided her the answers with no discomfort necessary. “I shan’t be long, then you can retire to your quarters.”
“Don’t hurry yerself on my account. I’m too excited to sleep.”
Jess draped the shawl over her shoulders and exited back to the passageway.
Caulfield had been leaning casually against the far bulkhead, but he straightened when Jess stepped out. Cast in the brighter light spilling out of her cabin, his face revealed a stark appreciation of her appearance that caused her to flush all over again. The smoldering in his gaze was quickly masked and replaced with an easy smile, but she remembered the feel of that stare from long ago. It had a similarly paralyzing effect on her now.
He gestured toward the stairs, and the gentle prod gave her the impetus to move. She preceded him up to the deck, grateful for the cool ocean breeze and low-hanging, yellow moon that stripped the world of color. Everything was rendered in black and shades of gray, which helped to mitigate the overwhelming vibrancy that had always distinguished Alistair Caulfield.
“What are the chances,” she began, just to break the weighty silence, “that you and I would find ourselves traveling on the same ship at the same time?”
“Excellent, considering I arranged it,” he said smoothly. “I hope you’ve been comfortable so far.”
“How could anyone be uncomfortable? This is a magnificent ship.”
His mouth curved, and a flutter tickled her stomach. “It pleases me to hear you say so. Should you require anything, I’m at your service. Once we’ve reached our destination, I have assured Michael that I’ll make the necessary introductions and provide what information I can to assist you with the sale of Calypso.”
“Michael,” she breathed, startled to realize she had been entrusted to the care of Alistair Caulfield—a man who had always made her feel far from safe—by her very own overprotective brother-in-law. “I was unaware.”
“Forgive him. I told him I would discuss the matter with you. He’s overwhelmed at the moment, and I wanted to alleviate some of his burden.”
“Yes, of course. That was very considerate.” She started walking toward the forecastle to ease the tension gripping her. She didn’t know Caulfield well enough to say he’d changed, yet the man she spoke to did not fit the image of reckless, untamed youth she had carried in her mind all these years.
“My motivation is not entirely altruistic,” he qualified, falling into step beside her. His hands were clasped at the small of his back, emphasizing the strength of his shoulders and the breadth of his chest. He had always been more muscular than the Sinclairs. More so than even his own brothers.
She admired his build in ways she shouldn’t. “Oh?”
He glanced aside at her. “I’ve been out of the country for many years, with only brief visits as necessary to prevent my mother from sending a search party after me. It’s my hope that you will assist my acclimation to English society when I return, as I’ll do for you in Jamaica.”
“You’re returning to England for a longer stay?”
“Yes.” He looked forward again.
“I see.” Dear God, she sounded breathless once more. “Your family and friends will be delighted, I’m certain.”
Caulfield’s chest expanded on a deep breath.
Recalling that the family he’d left behind was halved now, she said hastily, “Your brothers …”
Jess’s head lowered. She regretted making him feel ill at ease, because she knew precisely how it felt to be continually reminded of what was forever lost to her.
He stopped beside the main mast. With a soft hand at her elbow, he urged her to halt as well.
She faced him. He took an unnecessary step closer. Near enough to dance. “I’m returning to England because the reason I stayed away no longer exists, and a reason to return has unexpectedly presented itself.”
Caulfield’s tone was intimate. Jess couldn’t help wondering if a woman was luring him back.
She nodded. “I will endeavor to be as useful to you as you’ll certainly be to me.”
“Thank you.” He hesitated, as if he considered saying something more. In the end, he held his tongue and gestured for her to continue walking. “You wished to discuss the transport of product from Calypso?”
“Whatever obligations Calypso has are now my obligations, and I should be aware of them. That was all I wished to say. I can bring up the matter with my steward. Please, pay me no mind.”
“I have the answers you seek. I want to be the one who provides them to you. Come to me with whatever you need.”
Glancing at him, she found him intently focused on her. “You must be a very busy man. I don’t wish to impose on your time unnecessarily.”
“You could never be an imposition. I would take great pleasure in seeing to whatever you may desire.”
“Very well,” she said quietly.
The warmth of Caulfield’s voice changed, taking on a slight edge. “Your tone suggests displeasure.”
As he’d done so long ago, he somehow managed to encourage Jess to speak more bluntly than she would have thought possible. “Though I’m grateful for your attentiveness, Mr. Caulfield, I am also weary of such consideration. I’m not a woman made of glass who is prone to shattering without care. I arranged this trip, in part, to distance myself from those who insist on treating me as if I am fragile.”
“I have no idea how to coddle a woman,” he said wryly. “If that was my aim, I would certainly fail miserably. In truth, having met your steward on several occasions, I suspect he might have difficulty being completely forthcoming with a female. I want you to possess all the facts. The only way to be certain you have confidence in my ability to see to your interests is to be the one who shows you the contracts and terms myself, and explains whatever might be confusing.”
His smile was filled with mischief. “I want to expose you. Not shield you.”
Her lips curved slightly. He was charming in his own wicked way.
“The hour grows late,” he said as they neared the companionway again. “Allow me to escort you back to your cabin?”
“Thank you.” She was startled to realize she enjoyed his company.
Once they reached her door, he sketched an abbreviated bow in the narrow space. “I bid you good night, Lady Tarley. Sweet dreams.”
He was gone before she could reply, leaving behind a rather marked emptiness in the space he’d occupied.