about, Alexander mentally chided himself. The chit had a brain the size of a walnut, and all he had to do was enter her cabin, undo her tapes, and bid her goodnight.
The fact that her looking at him earlier this evening had caused his body to stir to life was simply proximity and her undeniable physical attractiveness. He could have taken care of these needs in Jamaica, but between the rather dubious wares offered in the dockside brothels and his efforts to wrap up his work aboard the Caeneus , the opportunity passed and he was bound for England.
With the delectable Miss Farnham.
He wiped his palms against his thighs and took a deep breath.
As soon as Alexander's knuckles touched the door, it was flung open, and it helped clear his thoughts.
"Miss Farnham, you must ask who is on the other side of the door before opening it," he said sternly. "What if it were one of the sailors standing there, a man with no business being at your cabin?"
"Why would a sailor be rapping at my door, Doctor, unless he had an important message?" Miss Farnham blinked up at him, those long, lush lashes shading her eyes. "Oh dear, do you have indigestion?"
"The pain I am experiencing at the moment has nothing to do with supper, Miss Farnham. May I come in?"
"Of course," she said, opening the door wider. Some order had been restored to the cabin, and there were less furbelows blocking movement. Miss Farnham beamed at him.
"I did as you said, Doctor, and pared down my wardrobe. I also packed up Mrs. Cowper's belongings and had them put in the hold. I am certain her family will be glad to receive them when we dock."
Alexander looked at her.
"Did you find more appropriate attire for yourself, Miss Farnham?"
"Yes. I found a stomacher-front walking dress that I can fasten, that one there of rose-striped muslin." She gestured at a white frock draped over a chair. Alexander could see nothing that distinguished it from other women's garments, but that was not the issue.
"It is last season's style, but I am willing to make do and wear it."
"I am cognizant of what a great sacrifice it must be for you, Miss Farnham."
"Indeed." She sighed. "But if it aids me in being more useful, Doctor, I will do what I must."
He looked at her, but the girl seemed completely serious.
"Is that the only useful garment you own, Miss Farnham?"
She put one finger to her dainty chin as she thought.
"I think there are dresses in a similar style in my trunks in the hold, Doctor."
"You have more trunks than these?"
She smiled at him as if he were the one with diminished mental capacity standing in the cabin.
"Of course I have more trunks, Dr. Murray. But it sounds to me as if the men will be busy tonight and tomorrow with this storm, so I will wait before asking them to haul them up so I can look for additional garments."
She'd removed the headpiece she wore earlier, and her thick braid snaked down her back, more disheveled than the neat construction he'd made earlier in the day. Wisps of hair curled around the tops of her ears and across her forehead, drawing attention to her eyes and her delicate cheekbones.
The silent cabin seemed too warm to him. He was anxious to leave and return to his own quarters, so his voice came out gruffer than he intended when he said, "It is time you were abed, Miss Farnham. Turn around and I will unfasten you."
Without waiting for her assent he stepped behind her. Miss Farnham stood with her hands at her side, like a fashion doll. China-headed, stuffed with sawdust...
...smelling of lavender and the slight tang of a woman's body sweating in a warm, moist environment, the skin at the back of her neck dewy and shining in the lamplight. When a swell caused the deck beneath his feet to shift, he grasped Miss Farnham's waist to steady her.
"Thank you, Dr. Murray," she said in a low voice. He pulled his hand back as if burned and grunted in response, concentrating instead on the ties at the back of her frock. Ridiculous, the way women's
The fact that her looking at him earlier this evening had caused his body to stir to life was simply proximity and her undeniable physical attractiveness. He could have taken care of these needs in Jamaica, but between the rather dubious wares offered in the dockside brothels and his efforts to wrap up his work aboard the Caeneus , the opportunity passed and he was bound for England.
With the delectable Miss Farnham.
He wiped his palms against his thighs and took a deep breath.
As soon as Alexander's knuckles touched the door, it was flung open, and it helped clear his thoughts.
"Miss Farnham, you must ask who is on the other side of the door before opening it," he said sternly. "What if it were one of the sailors standing there, a man with no business being at your cabin?"
"Why would a sailor be rapping at my door, Doctor, unless he had an important message?" Miss Farnham blinked up at him, those long, lush lashes shading her eyes. "Oh dear, do you have indigestion?"
"The pain I am experiencing at the moment has nothing to do with supper, Miss Farnham. May I come in?"
"Of course," she said, opening the door wider. Some order had been restored to the cabin, and there were less furbelows blocking movement. Miss Farnham beamed at him.
"I did as you said, Doctor, and pared down my wardrobe. I also packed up Mrs. Cowper's belongings and had them put in the hold. I am certain her family will be glad to receive them when we dock."
Alexander looked at her.
"Did you find more appropriate attire for yourself, Miss Farnham?"
"Yes. I found a stomacher-front walking dress that I can fasten, that one there of rose-striped muslin." She gestured at a white frock draped over a chair. Alexander could see nothing that distinguished it from other women's garments, but that was not the issue.
"It is last season's style, but I am willing to make do and wear it."
"I am cognizant of what a great sacrifice it must be for you, Miss Farnham."
"Indeed." She sighed. "But if it aids me in being more useful, Doctor, I will do what I must."
He looked at her, but the girl seemed completely serious.
"Is that the only useful garment you own, Miss Farnham?"
She put one finger to her dainty chin as she thought.
"I think there are dresses in a similar style in my trunks in the hold, Doctor."
"You have more trunks than these?"
She smiled at him as if he were the one with diminished mental capacity standing in the cabin.
"Of course I have more trunks, Dr. Murray. But it sounds to me as if the men will be busy tonight and tomorrow with this storm, so I will wait before asking them to haul them up so I can look for additional garments."
She'd removed the headpiece she wore earlier, and her thick braid snaked down her back, more disheveled than the neat construction he'd made earlier in the day. Wisps of hair curled around the tops of her ears and across her forehead, drawing attention to her eyes and her delicate cheekbones.
The silent cabin seemed too warm to him. He was anxious to leave and return to his own quarters, so his voice came out gruffer than he intended when he said, "It is time you were abed, Miss Farnham. Turn around and I will unfasten you."
Without waiting for her assent he stepped behind her. Miss Farnham stood with her hands at her side, like a fashion doll. China-headed, stuffed with sawdust...
...smelling of lavender and the slight tang of a woman's body sweating in a warm, moist environment, the skin at the back of her neck dewy and shining in the lamplight. When a swell caused the deck beneath his feet to shift, he grasped Miss Farnham's waist to steady her.
"Thank you, Dr. Murray," she said in a low voice. He pulled his hand back as if burned and grunted in response, concentrating instead on the ties at the back of her frock. Ridiculous, the way women's
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