"Why?" Chester asked.
"Because when the St. James baron was dying he was said to have whispered, 'Look to the heavens for your treasure.'"
She nodded after making that statement. "A man doesn't lie when he's about to meet his Maker," she instructed. "Directly after saying those words he clutched his heart and dropped dead."
Her hand moved to her bosom, and she bowed her head. Some of the men started to applaud, then stopped themselves. "You aren't believing this story, are you, Lady Sara?"
"Oh, yes," she answered. "One day Nathan's going to find the cross for me."
Nathan thought his wife was a hopeless dreamer. He smiled, though, for he suddenly realized he liked that flaw in her.
"Sounds like the captain will have to go to heaven to find it," Chester said.
"Oh, no," Sara argued. "It was just a little clue the baron was giving when he said 'Look to the heavens.' He was being cunning."
The talk continued for a few more minutes. A storm was brewing, however, and the wind soon became too high to ignore. Sara went back to her cabin to put her charcoals away. She spent the remainder of the day with her Aunt Nora, but by nightfall Nora was yawning like an infant, and Sara took her leave so that her aunt could get her needed rest. The events of the long day had clearly worn her out.
In truth, Sara was just as exhausted. She started having the telltale back pains while she readied herself for bed. The pain was a sure indication that she was about to start her monthly.
An hour later the cramps came on with a vengeance. They were much worse than usual. She was in too much pain to worry that Nathan might find out about her condition. She was freezing, too. The pain did that to her, and it didn't matter at all that it was warm and humid inside the cabin. She was still chilled through to the bone.
She put on her heavy white cotton sleeping gown, then crawled into bed and covered herself with three quilts.
She couldn't get comfortable no matter what position she tried. Her lower back felt as though it had been broken in half, and the agony soon made her start whimpering.
Nathan didn't come down to the cabin until the night watch had changed. Sara usually left a candle burning for him, but the room was pitched into darkness.
He heard her groan. He quickly struck two candles and hurried over to the bed.
He still couldn't see her. She was cocooned beneath a mound of covers.
"Sara?"
His alarm was obvious in his tone of voice. When she didn't immediately answer him he jerked the covers away from her face.
Fear made him break out in a cold sweat. Her face was as white as the sheets. Sara pulled the covers back over her head.
"Sara, what in God's name is the matter?"
"Go away, Nathan," she whispered. Her voice was muffled by the quilts, but he understood her all the same. "I don't feel well."
She sounded near death. His worry intensified. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded in a rough whisper. "Does your face hurt now? Damn, I knew I should have killed that bastard."
"It isn't my face," she cried out.
"Is it fever, then?" He jerked the covers away again.
Oh, God, she couldn't explain her condition to him. It was too humiliating. She let out another low groan and rolled onto her side, away from him. Her knees were pulled up against her stomach, and she began to rock back and forth in an attempt to ease the pain in her back. "I don't want to talk about it," she said. "I just don't feel well. Please go away."
He wasn't about to do any such thing, of course. He put his hand on her forehead. It was cool, though damp, to his touch. "It isn't fever," he announced with an added grunt of relief. "God, Sara, I didn't hurt you this afternoon, did I? I know I was a little… rough, but-"
"You didn't hurt me," she blurted out.
He still wasn't convinced. "You're certain?"
She was wanned by his obvious worry. "I'm certain. You didn't cause this illness," she added. "I just need to be alone now."
A cramp claimed her full attention then. She let out a low moan, then added, "Let me die in peace."
"The hell I will," he muttered. Another black thought gave him the chills. "You didn't make anything when you were in the galley, did you? You didn't eat something you prepared?"
"No. It isn't stomach upset."
"Then what the hell is it?"
"I'm not… clean."
He didn't know what in God's name that was supposed to mean. "You're sick because you aren't clean? Sara, that's got to be the most illogical illness I've ever heard of. Will you feel better if I order a bath made ready for you?"
She wanted to scream at him yet knew the effort would cost her more pain. "Nathan, it's a… woman's condition," she whispered.
"A what?"
Lord, he was going to make her spell it out for him. "I'm having my monthly," she shouted. "Oh, I hurt," she added in a whimper. "Some months are worse than others."
"You're having your monthly…"
"I'm not pregnant," she blurted out at the same moment. "Please go away now. If God is truly merciful, I'll die in just a few more minutes… if not from the pain, then from the shame of having to explain my condition to you."
He was so relieved she wasn't suffering from a life-threatening ailment, he let out a ragged sigh. Then he reached out to pat her shoulder. He pulled back before actually touching her, though. Damn, he felt awkward. Inadequate, too.
"Is there anything I can do to ease your pain?" he asked. "Do you want something?"
"I want my mother," she muttered. "But I can't have her, can I? Oh, just go away, Nathan. There isn't anything you can do."
She pulled the covers back over her face and let out another pitiful moan. Nathan must have decided to let her have her way, she decided when she heard the door shut. She burst into tears then. How dare he leave her when she was in such agony? She'd lied when she said she wanted her mother. She wanted Nathan to hold her, and the obstinate man should have been able to read her mind and know that was what she needed.
Nathan immediately went to Nora's cabin. He didn't bother to knock. As soon as he threw the door open a deep voice called out, "Who's there?"
Nathan almost smiled. He recognized Matthew's booming voice. The seaman was obviously sharing Nora's bed. "I have to talk to Nora," he announced.
Sara's aunt came awake with a start. She let out a gasp and pulled the covers up to her chin. Her blush was as high as the candle flame.
Nathan walked over to the side of the bed and stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the floor.
"Sara's ill," he announced before Nora could say a word.
Nora's embarrassment over being found in such a compromising position quickly faded in the light of that announcement.
"I must go to her," she whispered. She struggled to sit up. "Do you know what the ailment is?"
"Do you want me to have a look at her?" Matthew asked in a rush. He was already tossing the covers aside.
Nathan shook his head. He cleared his throat. "It's this… woman's thing."
"What woman's thing?" Matthew asked, genuinely perplexed.
Nora understood. She patted Matthew's hand but kept her gaze on Nathan's face. "Is she in much pain?"
Nathan nodded. "She's in terrible pain, madam. Now tell me what I can do to help her."
Nora thought he sounded very like a military commander, so brisk was his tone of voice. "A stiff drink of brandy sometimes helps," Nora suggested. "A gentle word wouldn't hurt either, Nathan. I remember becoming very emotional during that time of month."
"Isn't there anything else I can do for her?" Nathan muttered. "My God, Nora, she's in pain. I won't have it"
With extreme effort Nora was able to contain her smile. Nathan looked like he wanted to kill someone. "Have you asked her what might help?"
"She wanted her mother."
"How would that help?" Matthew asked.