A Heart's Masquerade Read Free Page B

small lake had not prepared her for the reel and roll of the deck beneath her feet, Cat soon gained her sea legs, leaping up among the masts or down into the bowels of the vessel as though she’d been born to it. If Bert was testing her, she passed, for he soon sent her to assume her duties as cabin boy.
    Cat liked the captain’s spacious quarters, neat but masculine, with its books, navigational tools, and maps. Sunlight from the diamond paned windows bathed the room in a warm glow, illuminating the massive bed and large sea chest nearby. The cabin smelled better, too. Instead of the reek of damp wood, unwashed bodies, and stale air, here she breathed traces of tobacco, paper, salt breeze, and the captain’s soap.
    Cat had barely seen the man since boarding, her only contact those times when she brought him a cup of coffee at dawn or waited on him at meals. Maybe things would be different now, she thought, hoping for a chance to talk with him as she had when he’d rescued her. It seemed then as if they could strike up a friendship, which Cat longed to do.
    And now she would have a chance to prove herself, she thought, rubbing her hands together in contemplation of giving the cabin a thorough going over. "Cleanliness be next to Godliness," Budd had always said, claiming that the cleaner the ship, the less chance of sickness.
    When she had finished scrubbing down the walls and floor, the pungent odor of lye soap pervaded the air, but it, too, was a good smell, for it chased the mustiness from the corners. Taking a moment from her labors, Cat wrote a letter to Budd.
    "I don’t know when this will reach you," she began, "but I hope you are not worried about me. I am safe aboard a ship and doing well. It is quite as you said it should be, except for a few of the finer details you failed to mention, namely the water, the food, and the smell. The water tastes like the metal it is stored in, the food is awful (even though they say we have been eating well since leaving port), and the air below decks is foul. But you would be quite proud of me as I am a real sailor, and even the first mate said so."
    The letter was brief because she simply wanted to set his mind at ease without saying too much. Smiling ruefully, she added "Cabin Boy" to her signature. She did not want Budd to think she was lodged with the crew, where it was dark, damp, and overcrowded, the air truly unwholesome.
    It never occurred to her that Budd might not be reassured to know she was sleeping in the captain’s cabin, for Cat was well pleased with the hammock strung up for her in a corner of the room.
    She folded the letter, then opened it again, wondering whether she should explain the reason for her sudden departure from Wellshire. She did not want Budd to think she was foolhardy, running off to sea like an irresponsible child, but neither did she want to worry him needlessly with tales of Edward’s treachery.
    She frowned, hoping Budd would not think her a coward for flying from the different circumstances at her childhood home. But how things had changed.
    Although Budd often muttered under his breath about Cat’s lack of supervision, she was used to having the run of the big house, while her stepfather traveled or lived in London, leaving only a few servants at Wellshire. She supposed it was a lonely life, but it was one that had suited her until her stepfather suddenly appeared with Edward in tow.
    Lord Wellshire had been estranged from Edward’s mother, but when she died, the young man had presented himself to his uncle, sporting a sheen of fine manners that had charmed her stepfather. And the next thing Cat knew, Lord Wellshire was grooming his heir for the responsibilities of a country home… until the accident.
    A poacher’s stray bullet had felled her stepfather, or so the authorities said. But Cat had not been satisfied with that explanation. And, apparently, Edward had gotten wind of her suspicions.
    She shook her head in grief and anger,