* * *
Sometime during the night they crawled into her hammock. Once there, Paul draped himself around her, for his wounds, the slices cut into him by the nine-barbed cat, made it impossible for him to lie on his back. Even then, he slept in short, fitful spells. Ravenna felt sure he dreamt of Vancouver, although each time he awoke, Paul swore he’d dreamt nothing.
He didn’t lapse into a heavy sleep until just after dawn, and it must have been afternoon when they finally got up. Ravenna still ached from her own injury. Her head hadn’t entirely cleared, so it was only after dressing and moving slowly into the corridor that she realized there was an unnatural stillness about the ship; no sailor’s voices, no pounding of feet on the main deck, just the constant creaking of Discovery’s hull.
When James appeared in the corridor dimness, he gave her a start. “Christ,” she said, catching her breath. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he gazed past her, into her cabin, and in an instant she felt strong, tanned arms encircling her waist, the weight of Paul’s chin resting on her shoulder.
“Hey,” James said, nodding in greeting.
“Hey yourself,” Paul murmured, kissed Ravenna’s neck.
She found herself slightly embarrassed, especially when James averted his eyes. Ask him something. “Where is everybody?”
“Vancouver’s ordered a holiday ashore.”
Paul’s lips stilled. “Then we’re alone?”
“Puget’s in the crow’s nest—,” and for emphasis, James cast a glance toward the hatch, “—which reminds me, were I to be roaming about the ship without irons and in the company of my new rooming partner, I’d find time to thank the lieutenant, both of you. Eight hours spent in counsel with Vancouver on your behalf would warrant at least that.”
Paul’s frame tensed. “Vancouver’s letting us room together?” Releasing Ravenna, he stepped out from behind her. “He beats the bleedin’ life outta me for messin’ with her and then he lets us room together?”
“I think he’s written us off,” James replied.
“So you’ve told him about yourself an’ Sarah?”
“Two men lost to wanton behavior is nothing compared to an entire crew. Puget made him see the wisdom in that.”
Ravenna frowned. “So now I’m wanton?”
“You know Vancouver thinks you unchaste.” James lowered his gaze, and she was made to wonder what he thought, shifting his feet uneasily like that.
But Paul went on. “So Vancouver’s only left Puget to watch us? That’s it? No marines?”
“Just Sarah. That’s enough.”
“And where’s Christian?” Harmless enough question, Ravenna thought, and yet when she saw James’s face, she was intrigued; a trace of guilt flashed deep in his eyes. “James, why do you look like that? Did Christian go ashore?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, he did.”
She regarded him even more carefully then. “What do you mean, ‘manner of speaking’?”
He only shook his head, refusing to answer.
“All right,” she said, taking a step toward him. “What did you do to him? You didn’t hurt him, did you?”
“He saw fit to endanger himself with no help of mine.” James paused, leaned heavily against the wall. “He deserted, Ravenna. Six days past.”
“Deserted? You mean he left the ship?”
“Tuesday the Chatham’s boat went missing with two able seamen and Christian with it. He bribed them, I’m quite sure, although why they left now I can’t imagine.”
She turned to Paul. “I know the reason.”
“We are the reason,” Paul agreed.
“Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now,” James said. “He chose his own course and we’ve no obligation whatsoever to disturb it.”
“You mean no one’s looking for him?” She glared at him, getting angrier by the minute. “You’re saying Vancouver’s declared a holiday and that’s the end of it?”
A smirk drifted into James’s expression. “There’s never been a better reason to celebrate.”
“But he’ll die out there!”
James only shrugged. “If he wants to come back, he’ll signal with a gunshot.”
“Does he have a gun to fire?”
“Why do you defend him? He’s trouble incarnate, you know he is.”
“But James, he’s our cousin. He’s part of our family. Does he really deserve to die just because we don’t like him?”
With a severity that surprised her, he took her by the shoulders then. “Yes he does. Family is a connection of title, of funds, not of love in his view, and believe me when I say that our future, our very lives, are protected with his death.”
And as if suddenly aware of his own threatening tone, James stepped back. “Forget about him,” he said, and nodding Paul’s way, he vanished into the corridor’s darkness.