9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

C larissa's fingers trailed along the polished mahogany of the writing desk. A silver bowl atop it held an assortment of fresh fruits. Even curtains had been hung to frame the small porthole, filtering the late afternoon sunlight and casting a warm glow over the cosy cabin. Every detail spoke of a host concerned with his guest's comfort and pleasure.

She sank to sit on the goose-down stuffed mattress, a smile playing about her lips. The accommodations on Captain de Silva's ship were a far cry from the dank cell those dreadful corsairs had kept her in. Leave it to Rafael to see to her every need, even amidst the chaos of their hasty departure from Italy. His gallantry knew no bounds.

A light rap at the door startled her from her musings. "Come in," she called, smoothing the folds of her blue muslin gown.

The door swung open to reveal the handsome captain himself, looking dashing as ever in his crisp white shirt and black trousers. His cravat was slightly askew, no doubt from the work of their departure an hour hence; the Santa Doroteia had settled into a steady sway as she cut through the waves, bound for Rafael's Portuguese home.

"Lady Clarissa." He bowed. "I trust you are finding your quarters to your liking?"

"More than satisfactory, Captain." She smiled up at him. "I daresay you've spoiled me quite thoroughly. However shall I readjust to life on land after such luxury?"

Rafael chuckled, his sea-green eyes twinkling. "It is my sincerest pleasure. After your harrowing ordeal, you deserve nothing but the best."

He gestured to the fruit bowl. "Procured fresh this morning for your pleasure; the best Livorno has to offer."

"How very thoughtful." Clarissa selected a ripe red berry and bit into it, revelling in the burst of sweetness on her tongue. Juice stained her lips and she dabbed at them with a linen napkin. "You think of everything, Captain."

"Nay, not everything." A shadow flickered briefly across his handsome features, but he quickly schooled them into a neutral expression. "I shall leave you to your repose."

With another slight bow, he turned on his heel and exited, pulling the door closed behind him with a soft click.

Clarissa released a slow breath, a little irritated with herself. Every encounter with the dashing captain left her increasingly flustered, though she endeavoured not to show it. He was a perfect gentleman, attentive yet restrained.

But in unguarded moments, an unfathomable sadness seemed to grip him--no doubt worry for his sister Isabella, or perhaps the burdens of keeping his ancestral estate afloat. She longed to unravel the mysteries behind those captivating eyes.

Clarissa shook her head. It wouldn't do to entertain such dangerous thoughts, even if the temptation was proving more difficult to resist with each passing day in his intoxicating presence. She was a lady, after all, and he a mere sea captain, despite his gallant manners. Any match between them would be most unsuitable...wouldn't it?

Sighing, she selected a leather-bound volume of Shakespeare's sonnets from the small pile of books that had been placed on the writing-desk and settled in to read, letting the Bard's familiar words soothe her troubled mind as the ship pressed onward toward Portugal.

The salt-tinged breeze whipped tendrils of hair across Clarissa's face as she emerged onto the sun-drenched deck of the Santa Dorotéia. Squinting against the glare, she spotted Captain Rafael near the helm, his tall form a striking silhouette against the azure sky.

As if sensing her presence, he turned, a warm smile gracing his chiseled features. "Lady Clarissa, a pleasure to see you this morning." He executed a courtly half-bow. "I trust your quarters were comfortable enough for you to achieve a good night's sleep?"

"More than adequate, thank you." She dipped into a shallow curtsy. "Though I confess, I found myself yearning for a breath of fresh air."

"But of course." Rafael gestured at the bustling crew members scurrying about their duties. "You are welcome to take your ease on deck whenever you wish, with or without your aunt or her maid. I assure you, you shall be quite safe among my men; I have spoken with them."

Clarissa inclined her head gratefully, though a small part of her bristled at the implication that she required protection. She was no delicate flower, to wilt at the first hint of adversity. Had she not endured captivity with admirable fortitude?

As if reading her thoughts, Rafael's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I meant no offence, my lady. I merely wish for you to be comfortable during our journey."

"No offence taken, Captain." She favoured him with an arch smile. "I am quite capable of looking after myself. But I appreciate your concern nonetheless."

Rafael chuckled, a rich, melodious sound that sent a curious shiver down her spine. "Of that, I have no doubt." He turned back to the wheel, long fingers deftly adjusting their course. "Do you have an interest in navigation, Lady Clarissa?"

"I must confess, I find it rather fascinating." She stepped closer, observing as he consulted the compass and made minute adjustments to the sails. "The notion that one can chart a path across the vast, unpredictable sea using only the sun and stars and a few instruments...it's quite remarkable."

"Indeed." Rafael's eyes shone with enthusiasm as he launched into an explanation of the various tools and techniques he employed. Clarissa listened raptly, marvelling at the depth of his knowledge.

How different this was from the tedious drawing room conversations she was accustomed to, all idle gossip and superficial pleasantries. With Rafael, she could engage in truly stimulating discourse, their minds sparking off one another like flint against steel.

As the sun began its lazy descent toward the horizon, painting the waves in shades of gold and orange, Clarissa found herself reluctant to return to her cabin. The company was far too agreeable.

Perhaps a few more moments basking in his presence wouldn't be so very improper. After all, it was only natural to seek the companionship of a kindred spirit on such a lengthy voyage. And if her heart fluttered a bit more rapidly in his presence, well...surely that was merely a result of the invigorating sea air.

Yes, that must be it. For what else could it possibly be?

Rafael handed the wheel to his first mate with a nod of thanks, then turned to Clarissa with a warm smile. "Would you care to take a stroll about the deck with me, Lady Clarissa? I have been standing still too long at the wheel and would like to stretch my legs."

Clarissa's heart leapt at the prospect of spending more time in his company, though she endeavoured to maintain a calm exterior. "I would be delighted, Captain. Lead the way."

As they meandered along the deck, the salt-tinged breeze whipping at their hair and clothes, Rafael inquired, "I trust you are finding your accommodations suitable? I apologize that they are not as luxurious as what you are undoubtedly accustomed to."

"Nonsense," Clarissa replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "After my ordeal on that dreadful corsair ship, this feels positively palatial. And the company is infinitely more agreeable." She favoured him with a playful smile.

Rafael chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Clarissa's stomach flutter. "I am glad to hear it. I must confess, I find our conversations most stimulating. It is a rare pleasure to discuss literature with someone as well-read and insightful as yourself."

Clarissa flushed with pleasure at the compliment. "Speaking of literature, I have been meaning to ask you about the poetry you recited for me at the Villa Ginori. The words were so hauntingly beautiful, but I am afraid I am not familiar with the poet. Cam?es, was it?"

"Ah, yes." Rafael's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Luís de Cam?es is considered one of the greatest poets in the Portuguese language. His epic work, ‘Os Lusíadas,' is a masterpiece of Renaissance literature. It tells the story of Vasco da Gama's voyage to India, intertwined with the history and mythology of Portugal."

"How fascinating," Clarissa murmured, intrigued. "I should very much like to read it someday, but I fear my Portuguese is woefully inadequate - indeed, non-existent!"

Rafael's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, we shall have to remedy that, won't we? While I do not have a copy aboard, I know there is an English translation of Os Lusíadas at my home. I shall be happy to lend it to you."

Clarissa's heart swelled with gratitude and something deeper, something she dared not name. "I would like that very much, Captain de Silva. Thank you."

"We could seek to remedy the other issue as well, Lady Clarissa?"

Unsure what he meant, she blinked up at him. "The other issue?"

"Your lack of Portuguese.

She laughed, the sound carried away by the gentle sea breeze. "I am an eager pupil, Captain de Silva. Teach me."

He nodded, his expression growing more serious. "Let's start with something simple. ‘Bom dia' means 'good day.'"

"Bom dia," Clarissa repeated, the foreign words feeling strange yet exciting on her tongue.

"Excellent," Rafael praised, his eyes shining with approval. "Now, try ‘obrigado.' It means ‘thank you.'"

"Obrigado," she echoed, the corners of her mouth tugging upward in a smile.

They continued in this manner, Rafael patiently guiding her through the basics of his native language, Clarissa absorbing every word like a sponge. She delighted in the way the Portuguese phrases rolled off his tongue, the lilting cadence of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

They settled in a quiet spot at the bow, Clarissa seating herself on a large coil of rope with little heed for the state of her gown, Rafael leaning on the railing close by, and continued the lesson, Clarissa's laughter occasionally spilling over as her tongue tangled on the unfamiliar words.

The sun began to set in a blaze of glory, painting the sky in a breathtaking array of oranges and pinks. Clarissa fell silent as she gazed, her eyes wide with wonder.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen some glorious sunsets in Italy, but I don't think I've ever seen anything quite so beautiful as this."

Rafael hummed in agreement. "Indeed, it is a sight to behold."

Clarissa turned to him with a quick smile, and was startled to find him gazing not at the sky, but at her. Her heart stuttered at the intensity in his eyes. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, lost in the depths of his stare.

But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and Rafael looked away, clearing his throat. "We should head inside," he said, his voice gruff. "It's getting late, and your aunt and uncle will be wondering what has become of you."

Alex and Marianne did not seem in the least concerned about where she had been when she made her way below, however, and Clarissa found herself wondering just what exactly Alex and Rafael always found to talk about so seriously. Was it her? Surely, Alex could not possibly be considering… she cut off the thought before she allowed herself even to think it, laughing instead at the serious expression on little Edward's face as he tried to grab hold of Fernando the cat, who was far too clever to allow himself to be captured by a toddler, but seemed to be amused by the game nevertheless.

A knock on the door a little later proved to be the ship's boy, asking in broken English if he might lay the table for their dinner, and if they would permit the captain to join them for it.

"We should be delighted," Alex said firmly, "since we have evicted the captain from his cabin, the least we can do is invite him to dine in it with us!"

Rafael entered with a broad smile; Clarissa flattered herself that it grew even warmer when his eyes rested on her. She stepped forward to greet him, thanking him again for the comforts the Santa Dorotéia provided them.

The conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine Rafael poured, their words dancing between topics with the same effortless grace as the ship cutting through the waves. The laughter and warmth around the table made Clarissa feel at home, in a way she had not truly felt since Diana had returned to England.

As the meal progressed, Rafael introduced a new game, challenging Clarissa to craft a story using only a handful of seemingly unrelated words. She rose to the task, weaving a tale of adventure and intrigue that left them all hanging on her every word.

"You have a gift for storytelling," Rafael praised, his eyes sparkling with admiration as Marianne applauded her niece.

Clarissa ducked her head, a pleased flush colouring her cheeks. "I've always loved the power of words," she confessed. "The way they can transport you to another world, make you feel things you never thought possible."

"You should be a writer, Clarissa," Marianne suggested. "Truly, I have always thought so. The way you can recount a simple incident and have everyone fascinated, or laughing, is remarkable."

Clarissa thought of her journal, of the pages of notes she had written during their travels and the half-formed ideas she had to publish a travel journal when they arrived home. Her expression darkened slightly as the spectre of her father's certain disapproval hovered. Perhaps Marianne and Alex might agree to publish them on her behalf? She did not care about any monies she might earn – they could donate it to a charity for orphans – but to see her words in print would be wonderful, an achievement nobody could ever take away from her.

No matter who her father had picked out for her to marry.

Rafael was watching her, his expression thoughtful. "And yet, there are some things that words alone cannot capture," he said quietly.

Clarissa's breath caught in her throat at the intensity in his gaze, the unspoken emotions swirling between them.

But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and Rafael was rising from his seat, offering her his arm. "Shall we take a turn about the deck, Lady Clarissa?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral. "The sea is very calm tonight; I do not think we are making any headway, but I should like to check on things and thought you might like a breath of air before you retire.

Clarissa glanced at Alex for permission, glad to see his nod. Her heart was still racing as she placed her hand in the crook of Rafael's elbow. As they stepped out into the cool night air, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them, a subtle change that both thrilled and terrified her in equal measure.

As they strolled along the deck, the salty sea breeze whipping at Clarissa's skirts, she couldn't help but marvel at the easy companionship that had blossomed between them. It seemed strange to think that only a few short weeks ago, they had been perfect strangers, brought together by the most unlikely of circumstances.

"I must confess," Rafael said, his voice low and intimate in the darkness, "I find myself quite envious of your adventures, Lady Clarissa. To have seen so much of the world, to have experienced such freedom..."

Clarissa glanced up at him, surprised by the wistful note in his tone. "But surely you have had your own share of adventures, Captain? The Navy must have taken you to all sorts of exotic locales, far more than I have seen."

Rafael chuckled, but there was little humour in the sound. "Ah, but there is a difference between seeing the world through the lens of duty and seeing it through the lens of curiosity. I fear I have had far too much of the former and not nearly enough of the latter."

Clarissa considered this for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "Perhaps," she said slowly, "it is not too late to change that. After all, life is nothing if not an endless series of opportunities for reinvention."

Rafael looked down at her. "You make it sound so simple."

"Oh, but it is!" Clarissa exclaimed, her face alight with enthusiasm. "All it takes is a bit of courage and a willingness to embrace the unknown. And from what I have seen of you, Captain Rafael de Silva, you possess both those qualities in spades."

For a long moment, Rafael simply stared at her, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. "You are an extraordinary woman, Lady Clarissa," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I find myself quite in awe of you."

Clarissa's heart stuttered in her chest, her skin prickling with awareness as he reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. The touch was fleeting, barely there, but it sent a shiver of longing through her entire body.

"Rafael," she whispered, his name a plea and a prayer all at once.

But before he could respond, the moment was shattered by the sound of footsteps approaching, and they sprang apart like guilty children, their cheeks flushed and their breathing unsteady.

As the crewman passed by, nodding respectfully to his captain, Clarissa couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. But when she glanced back at Rafael, she saw the same emotion reflected in his eyes, and she knew that whatever this thing was between them, it was far from over.

Rafael seemed to gather himself, his spine stiffening, before he spoke more formally. "Lady Clarissa, I wondered if you might be interested in assisting me with charting our course tonight?"

Clarissa's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of spending more time alone with him. "I would be delighted, Captain," she replied, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Rafael led her to the navigational table, where a sprawling map lay illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. He began to explain the intricacies of nautical navigation, his deep, melodic voice washing over her like a caress.

As he pointed out their current position and the various instruments used to determine their route, Clarissa found herself increasingly distracted by the way the light played across his chiseled features, the way his eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke of the sea.

"It's a delicate balance," Rafael mused, tracing a finger along the map's edge. "One must always be mindful of the winds, the currents, the position of the stars. But when you get it right, there's nothing quite like it."

Clarissa nodded, her gaze locked on his. "It's like a dance, in a way. A partnership between the ship and the sea."

Rafael's eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Exactly so. I must say, Lady Clarissa, you have a remarkable understanding of these things for someone who has spent so little time at sea."

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks at his praise. "I've always been fascinated by the idea of exploration, of discovering new lands and cultures. I suppose I've read every book I could find on the subject."

"I can imagine you at the head of an expedition, leading the way to explore lost cities and unknown civilizations," Rafael murmured, making her laugh a little.

"I cannot imagine any man who would follow a lady in such an undertaking!"

"I can," Rafael said, the implication clear in his tone that he was one such man.

Clarissa smiled, looking up at the stars as he pointed out constellations to her, feeling an entirely unfamiliar warmth at the company of this unusual man, this Portuguese sea captain who had not only saved her life but was offering her so many new experiences, all without the slightest expectations of her in return for his kindness.

"Come," Rafael said suddenly. "The wind is picking up a little and we shall be underway again. You shall steer us through the stars tonight, my lady!" His hand under her elbow guided her gently to stand before the ships spoked wheel, almost as tall as she was.

Clarissa's eyes widened, her heart racing at the prospect. "But I don't know how," she protested, even as her fingers curled around the smooth wood of the wheel.

"Then I shall teach you," Rafael replied, moving to stand behind her, his strong, solid presence sending shivers down her spine.

Gently, he placed his hands over hers, guiding her movements as he pointed out the constellations above. "There, do you see?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "That bright star is Polaris, the North Star. It's our constant guide, always pointing the way home."

Clarissa nodded, her breath catching in her throat as she leaned back into his embrace, savouring the feeling of his arms around her. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that this was their life, that they could sail the seas together forever, exploring new lands and new love.

But all too soon, the moment was broken by the sound of laughter from the deck below. Marianne and Alex, arm in arm, strolled into view, their eyes alight with mischief as they caught sight of the couple at the wheel.

"Well, well," Marianne called out, her voice teasing. "What have we here? A lesson in navigation?"

Clarissa felt her cheeks flush, and she stepped away from Rafael, suddenly aware of the impropriety of their embrace. But Rafael merely smiled, his eyes never leaving hers as he replied, "Indeed, Lady Glenkellie."

With a final, lingering look, he escorted her back to her cabin, his hand warm against the small of her back. At the door, he paused, his gaze intense as he reminded her to bolt the door behind her.

"Goodnight, Clarissa," he whispered, his voice low and full of promise. "Sweet dreams."

As the days passed, their connection only grew stronger, the seeds of friendship blossoming into something deeper, more profound. But always, there were eyes upon them - the crew, Marianne, Alex - a constant reminder of the world beyond their stolen moments.

Clarissa found herself longing for more, for a chance to explore the depths of her feelings without the weight of society's expectations bearing down upon them. But for now, she would savour each precious moment, each brush of his hand against hers, each secret smile exchanged across a crowded deck.

For in those moments, she knew that whatever the future held, her heart would forever belong to the man who had shown her the stars.