Forgotten Fragrance Read Free

had those words escaped?
    â€˜I beg your pardon.’ He leant closer, all his attention focussed on her face.
    She bowed her head, seeking refuge behind her hair. ‘It was nothing.’
    â€˜I think perhaps Miss Charlotte is referring to the rather less than encouraging welcome she received from your first mate.’
    Thank God for Marcus .
    As ever he’d come to her rescue.
    Captain Charity pursed his lips. ‘I see. Something else I must apologise for. Henk is still battling the Zephyrus’ refit. He is not entirely convinced I have made the right decision. I don’t believe our fortune lies in whaling. The indiscriminate slaughter is concerning and seal numbers have already diminished alarmingly. We are all God’s creatures, are we not?’
    â€˜Indeed, indeed.’ Marcus’ tone changed to his pulpit voice, the one he used to harangue the poor inmates of Hobart Gaol during his Sunday visits.
    Charlotte stifled a laugh knowing Marcus’ voice would ratchet up a notch or two if he became suitably enthused, though something as unimportant as whales was unlikely to inspire his full fire-and-brimstone version.
    He sucked in a breath and puffed out his chest. ‘All God’s creatures are placed on this earth to serve and I, for one, would not be happy to forgo the bounties whales provide. Lamplight being but one of their God-given gifts.’ Marcus folded his arms over his belly.
    â€˜You may find that you and Henk have something in common to discuss during the voyage.’ An almost sarcastic twist of amusement scored the Captain’s face. ‘I have made the decision to move to cargo: wool, potatoes and timber are all possibilities. Convicts, oil and passengers on this trip. I intend to trade between Hobart and Sydney and offer a passenger service.’
    The air bristled as the two men measured each other and Charlotte watched bemused, expecting Marcus to respond; instead he took a step back and a nervous tic tweaked the corner of his eye.
    â€˜Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed on deck.’ The Captain’s gaze returned to her face. ‘Miss Charlotte, let me show you to your cabin on my way.’ He indicated she should step ahead of him.
    The clean tang of sea air and salt filled her nostrils as she stepped out the door and all her concerns about the voyage vanished in the sea breeze. ‘Thank you, Captain.’
    He gave her an amused smile and threw open the next door, and Charlotte entered a smaller version of Marcus’ cabin. The window, console and chair appeared identical and a sea chest rested against the bulkhead. She swivelled around searching for the bunk. Surely the Captain didn’t think she would be sharing a bed with Marcus. He’d introduced her as his housekeeper and soon-to-be-wife, not his doxy. Her hand rose to her cheek stilling the sense of mounting outrage.
    A deep chuckle reverberated in the small space and she glanced up, questioning.
    It was as if he’d read her mind. ‘Don’t panic, your bed is here,’ he said, and reached behind the door to unhook a length of canvas and rope. With a flourish he stretched it across the room, attaching it to a hook above the small window. ‘A hammock.’ He swung the dangling canvas from side to side.
    â€˜A hammock?’ Did he expect her to sleep there? It looked ridiculously uncomfortable and unsafe. Even the bunk on the Atwich she’d shared with three other women seemed a luxury by comparison.
    â€˜Trust me.’ He threw her another wink and for some ludicrous reason she did.
    With surprising agility for a man of his height he swung into the hammock and lay back, hands behind his head, beaming at her. His white teeth shone against the bronzed skin of his face and unable to resist his boyish good humour she dropped her hand from her cheek and grinned down at him.
    â€˜It is far more practical than a bunk and twice as comfortable.