He wanted to grin, but the pain in his shoulder curved his mouth into a grimace.
She sat forward and touched her fingertips to his forehead. “I am truly sorry that you are in pain.” She drew a deep breath. “And I am sorry that I shot you. I really did not want to, but you gave me no choice.”
To her surprise, he nodded. “Yes, you are right. I did force you to pull the trigger. I only ask, cara, that you not become a better shot.”
“Why did you not tell me that those wretched pirates were about? It is possible that I might have believed you. Instead, you acted the arrogant bastard.”
“Damnation,” he growled. At her start of surprise, he added quickly, “we will continue this conversation, Cassandra.”
A moment later, the door opened and Scargill walked into the cabin.
The earl was very much aware of the bulge under the light cover and concentrated his wits on turning his desire to ashes.
“What be it that ye’re doing, madonna?” Scargill looked at her questioningly.
“I was but seeing that his lordship is all right.”
“She tells the truth, Scargill. She is an excellent nurse, and in truth, your presence is not at all necessary.”
Scargill frowned. He peered down at his master’s smiling face and shook his head. “Ye need sleep, my lord, not conversation with the madonna. Besides, the two of ye canna be together without cutting at each other. I do not want ye angered or excited.”
The smile on the earl’s face widened into a grin. He saw Cassie flinch, her face turning red. “Very well, you old preacher, I’ll do as you bid.”
“Do ye wish more laudanum?”
“No, just peace and quiet.”
Aware that Cassie was moving restlessly behind him, Scargill said softly, “Would ye mind if I took the madonna on deck? The fresh sea air cannot but do her good.”
“Yes, please, my lord, I would like it much.”
At the earl’s continued silence, Scargill said, “Ye need not worry that she’ll escape ye, my lord. ’Tis a close watch I’ll keep on her.”
“You are a coward, cara,” the earl said, and closed his eyes.
Chapter 12
“There she is, Cassandra, Genoa—La Superba—the queen of the Mediterranean. Is she not beautiful?”
Cassie had the impression that she was shrouded in white; even the air was white. As the yacht drew into the harbor, she leaned over the railing just behind the bow and shaded her eyes to better see the city, bathed in dazzling afternoon sunlight.
“Yes, but so very different from any city I have ever seen or imagined.” It seemed to her that the tall, narrow buildings, many of them as white as the stark sunlight, were pressed so closely together that it was difficult to tell where one began and another left off.
The earl smiled down at her, guessing her thoughts. He had himself experienced the same feeling many times before. “As you can see, the city has had no choice but to press itself together. The hills behind the city are the Apennines. And farther back are the Maritime Alps. Genoa is compressed like a lady in her corset, the mountains at her back and the sea pressing at her—” He grinned. “I grow fanciful and see from your lips that you do not approve my simile.”
He pointed westward. “You see the lighthouse on the point of land? That is La Lanterna. My home lies slightly northward, in the hills. You will find the view of Genoa and the sea most striking, particularly from the gardens. They are deeply terraced and so laden with trees and flowers that you will think that you have wandered into some impossible, exotic novel. Beyond the Parese vineyards, to the east, is a small lake, also called Parese. I trust you will find enjoyment sailing there.”
Cassie thought of her small sailboat, crushed at his order against the rocks. “I don’t think I shall,” she said.
“We shall see,” he said. He turned and flexed his shoulder. She saw a frown of pain briefly narrow his eyes.
It had been but four days since she shot him. Yet, if it were not for the white sling under his left arm that crossed his chest to tie behind his neck, she doubted that anyone would guess that he experienced any discomfort at all, for he made no reference to it. She recalled touching him, curiously exploring his man’s body. A flush tinted her cheeks and she quickly looked away from him. She wondered in confusion if she were not his prisoner in her own mind and by her own volition. She drew back when he gently brushed tendrils of hair from her cheek.