It took her aunt a minute to make the switch in topics. "Yes, it is at an angle, isn't it?" she responded. "But you did say the wind was brisk today."
"We don't seem to be clipping along either," Sara interjected. "I hope we don't topple over," she added with a sigh. "I never did learn how to swim. That shouldn't signify, though. Nathan can't let me drown."
Nora smiled. "Why can't he?"
Sara seemed surprised by that question. "Because I'm his wife," she blurted out. "He promised to protect me, Nora."
"And you have ultimate faith that he will?"
"Of course."
The vessel suddenly shifted again, pitching them even further toward the water line. Sara saw how startled Nora was; her aunt was gripping her hand. She patted Nora and said, "Nathan is the captain of this vessel, Nora, and he wouldn't let us fall over into the ocean. He knows what he's doing. Don't worry."
A sudden roar filled the cabin. It was her name being bellowed. Sara grimaced in reaction, then turned to give Nora a thoroughly disgruntled look. "Do you see what I mean, Nora? The only time Nathan says my name, he screams it. I wonder what has him in a snit now. The man has such a sour disposition. It's a wonder I can put up with him."
"Go and see what he wants," Nora suggested. "Don't let him frighten you with his shouts. Just remember to look below the bluster."
"I know," Sara said with a sigh. She stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of her gown. "Look below the surface, and I'll find myself a good man," she added, repeating her aunt's suggestion of the day before. "I will try."
She kissed Nora and hurried out into the corridor. She almost bumped into Jimbo. The big man grabbed hold of her to steady her. "Come with me," he ordered.
He started to lead her toward the steps that led down to the lower level. She pulled back. "Nathan is calling for me, Jimbo. I must go to him. He's up on deck, isn't he?"
"I know where he is," Jimbo muttered. "But he needs a few more minutes to calm himself down, Sara. You can hide down here until he-"
"I'm not hiding from my husband," Sara interrupted.
"Damned right you're not."
Sara jumped a foot when Nathan's booming voice sounded behind her. She turned around and valiantly tried to manage a smile. After all, there was a member of her staff standing right beside her, and for that reason personal irritations should be placed aside. The scowl on her husband's face changed her inclination, though. She no longer cared that Jimbo was watching. She scowled back. "For heaven's sake, Nathan, must you sneak up on me like that? You gave me a good scare."
"Sara," Jimbo began in a whisper, "I wouldn't be…"
She ignored the seaman's mutterings. "And while I'm on the topic of your bad habits, I might as well point out that I'm getting mighty sick of your shouting at me all the time. If you have something you wish to say to me, kindly speak in a civil tone of voice, sir."
Jimbo moved to stand by her side. Matthew suddenly appeared out of the shadows and took up his position on her other side. In the back of Sara's mind was the astonishing fact that both men were actually trying to protect her.
"Nathan wouldn't ever hurt me," she announced. "He may want to, but he would never touch me, no matter how angry he is."
"He looks like he wants to kill you," Jimbo countered in a low drawl. He actually grinned, for he found Sara's gumption worthy. Wrongheaded, he added to himself, but worthy still.
Nathan was trying to calm down before he spoke again. He stared at Sara and took several deep breaths. He counted.
"He always looks like he wants to kill someone," Sara whispered back. She folded her arms in front of her, trying her damnedest to look irritated and not worried.
Nathan still hadn't said a word. The look in his eyes made her skin burn. In truth, he did look like he wanted to throttle her.
Look below the surface, her aunt had suggested. Sara couldn't manage that feat. She couldn't even hold Nathan's gaze for more than a heartbeat or two. "All right," she muttered when she couldn't stand his hot glare any longer. "Did someone else have some of my soup? Is that the reason you're in such a state, husband?"
The muscle flexed in the side of his jaw. She decided she shouldn't have asked him that question after all. It only reminded him of the confusion she'd caused the day before. Then she noticed he was holding her parasol.
Nathan's right eyelid twitched. Twice. God, he was developing an affliction, he noted, thanks to his innocent wife's mischief. He still couldn't trust himself to speak to her. He took hold of her hand and pulled her into their cabin. He slammed the door, then leaned on it.
Sara walked over to the desk, turned, and leaned against it. She was trying to look nonchalant. "Nathan, I cannot help but notice that you're once again upset about something," she began. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or are you going to continue to stand there and glare at me? Lord, you do strain my patience."
"I strain your patience?"
She didn't dare nod in answer. He'd roared that question at her, and she guessed he didn't want an answer.
"Does this look familiar?" he demanded in a rough voice. He lifted her parasol but kept his gaze fully directed on her.
She stared at the parasol and noticed right away that it had been broken in half.
"Did you break my lovely parasol?" she demanded. She looked incensed.
His eyelid twitched again. "No, I didn't break it. When the first mast let loose it broke your damned parasol. Did you untie the latchings?"
"Please quit your shouting," she protested. "I cannot think when you're yelling at me."
"Answer me."
"I might have untied a few of the fatter ropes, Nathan, but I had good reason. That's a very expensive parasol," she added with a wave of her hand toward him. "It got caught up, and I was trying to… Nathan, exactly what happens when the ropes become untied?"
"We lost two sails."
She didn't comprehend what he was telling her. "We what?"
"Two sails were destroyed."
"And that is why you're so upset? Husband, you have at least six others on this boat. Surely-"
"Ship," he roared. "It's a ship, not a boat."
She decided to try to placate him. "I meant to say ship."
"Do you have any more of these things?"
"They're called parasols," she replied. "And yes, I do have three more."
"Give them to me. Now."
"What are you going to do with them?"
She rushed over to her trunk when he took a threatening step toward her. "I can't imagine why you would need my parasols," she whispered.
"I'm throwing them in the ocean. With any luck they'll cripple a couple of sharks."
"You cannot throw my parasols in the ocean. They match my gowns, Nathan. They were made just for… it would be a sin to waste… you can't." She ended her tirade in a near wail.
"The hell I can't."
He wasn't shouting at her any longer. She should have been happy over that minor blessing, but she wasn't. He was still being too mean-hearted to suit her. "Explain why you want to destroy my parasols," she demanded. "Then I might give them to you."
She located the third parasol in the bottom of the trunk, but when she straightened and turned to confront him again she clutched all three against her bosom.
"The parasols are a menace, that's why."
She looked incredulous. "How could they be a menace?"
She was looking at him as though she thought he'd lost his mind. He shook his head. "The first parasol crippled my men, Sara," he began.
"It only crippled Ivan," she corrected.
"Which is why you made the damn soup that crippled the rest of my crew," he countered.