More Than You Know by Jo Goodman Page A

have her pick of the crew as a companion. There wasn't a man on board Cerberus who wasn't willing to spend time with her. Had she been able to see, she would have witnessed men all but tripping over themselves to reach her when she arrived on deck alone. They practically formed a protective circle around her as she circumnavigated the ship. He had had to warn the men privately that if they continued in such a fashion, he would be forced to curtail Miss Bancroft's deck privileges.
    He did not require Cutch to point out to him that he was no longer enjoying the same degree of popularity among the crew as he had in the past.
    "Miss Bancroft,” Rand greeted her as Cutch led Stuart away. The doctor was making some protesting noises but Cutch, at seven feet, was insistent.
    Claire's fingers eased their grip on the rail. “Captain."
    Rand heard relief in her voice, but he suspected it had little to do with him and everything to do with the fact that she had not been abandoned. “You're not carrying your cane,” he said.
    Claire made a face. She cocked her head in the direction of the departing doctor and first mate. “I thought I had an escort."
    "And so you do. May I?” He took her hand when she nodded and placed it at his elbow. “What did Cutch say to Stuart that took him off in such a hurry?"
    "You don't know?"
    "I wouldn't have asked."
    "Odd. I was under the impression that you and Cutch were standing together on the quarterdeck just before he approached us."
    Rand knew her impression had been courtesy of Stuart. He wondered if the doctor had only been describing the activity on deck or whether she had specifically asked after him.
    "I was inquiring into Mr. Cutch's whereabouts this evening,” Claire said.
    Rand winced a little at this revelation but he took it on the chin. Cutch had clearly made himself a favorite with Claire. While the doctor was indisposed, Rand had lightened Cutch's duties so he could spend more time with her. “He tells me he's been reading to you,” said Rand.
    "Yes.” A heavy lock of hair whipped across Claire's cheek as they made the turn at the quarter gallery. She pushed it back but didn't attempt to secure it. “I don't suppose he'll be able to do that this evening. He took Dr. Stuart off to examine him for stomach cramps."
    So that was Cutch's diversion. Rand could only shake his head. “Perhaps the doctor will read to you. Now that he's recovered, it would seem to be his responsibility."
    Claire was not successful in hiding her lack of enthusiasm. “Of course. You will want Mr. Cutch to return to his full duties. I understand. I don't think I've expressed my gratitude to you for allowing him to assist me."
    Until now Rand hadn't thought she realized any of it was his doing.
    "Mr. Cutch told me you made it possible,” she said. “It was kind of you. Before we left London you made your feelings clear about providing me with a nursemaid. I know it went against your grain."
    "I felt some responsibility, Miss Bancroft. I had the final say in choosing Dr. Stuart. I thought that between the duke, Mrs. Webster, and me we had covered every important question in determining his suitability. None of us inquired into his fitness for sea travel."
    Claire considered reminding him that she had not been allowed to interview the doctor, then let the opportunity to take him to task pass. She wouldn't have thought to ask the question either. Anyone signing on for months of sea travel should have taken some stock of their constitution to do so. “The waters have seemed unusually rough,” she said in mild defense of the doctor.
    Rand's shrug was communicated to Claire. “It hasn't been so bad. They haven't bothered you."
    Claire tugged on Rand's elbow, holding him back. She turned toward the open water and let her hand fall away. She laid her palms flat against the rail. “Is it dark yet?” she asked.
    "No. Not yet. We're chasing sunset."
    It took Claire's breath away. Rand had captured so perfectly