He eyed the canvas and had Lieutenant Dalton signal the topmen to add more sail for the crucial moment when they’d need momentum for the larboard turn toward Gibraltar’s harbor.
She pulled the wide brim of her straw bonnet down to manage as much shade as possible for her face. She’d made a vow after her fast, humiliating trip up the mizzen mast. In the future, she’d avoid unladylike, “hoyden” activities, if only for Cullen’s sake. She knew how much the rest of the crew and officers had gossiped and speculated about her ever since the incident two nights previous. She’d come to care too much for Cullen to let the ship’s crew make fun of him for his odd wife’s behavior behind his back.
Next to her, Cullen was giving a sailor advice on how to apply a poultice to draw out swelling in his groin, and both were turned away from her, as if she would be embarrassed about something that, as Wills, she’d been treating for years.
Cullen bit back a smile at his prickly wife’s stiffened posture when he’d turned away to treat the gunner’s mate. He’d bruised his scrotum in a fall down a companionway on his way to the powder magazine.
He hated to think so, but he could almost predict what was going on behind her gray eyes snapping out a challenge directed at him.
When he turned suddenly, she blushed furiously. “Mrs. MacCloud, would you mind finishing this poultice dressing for Mr. Bates?” The sailor’s brows shot up, and he took an involuntary step back.
Cullen leaned close to the patient. “It’s all right. You needn’t worry on her behalf. My wife is used to treating all sorts of shipboard ailments. Have a seat over there on the cot.”
Once the man had moved away from them, Cullen spoke low to her. “I apologize if you were offended when I tried to protect you from an, ah, unpleasant task.”
Willa cut her gaze away from him without a word and moved to the side of the gunner’s mate.
Now what? Cullen thought he’d done the right thing by treating her as he would any surgeon’s mate. He let out a deep sigh and moved to the next patient with a flayed palm from a fast slide down a rope to the deck. He reached for a basin of clean water and shook his head. He would never understand women, let alone this particular woman.
Chapter Fifteen
Willa inhaled the smells of land, taking in the sounds of the busy military port. The barking of dogs drifted across the water as their launch neared the North Mole. She remembered how most of the Genoese fishermen native to Gibraltar seemed to have a dog or two trailing after them in the bustling squares.
Army regiments ranging from Royal Engineers and Fusiliers to regular Foot moved in and out of Gibraltar with thousands of troops at the small but critical post on any given day. They maintained and guarded the town and surrounding military batteries. Several other Royal Navy ships in addition to the Arethusa were anchored nearby in the wide bay. Gibraltar served as sentinel to the strait’s narrow access to the Mediterranean, critical to British interests. As a consequence, the military presence was always strong here.
She’d volunteered to go to the fruit and vegetable market in Plaza de las Verduras to secure more limes and lemons for the ship’s provisions. The juices were added each day to the men’s grog allotments to prevent scurvy.
Although Cullen had worried over the expedition and warned her to have a care in the port town, she was escorted by one of the Arethusa’s marines, a cook’s mate, and Captain Still’s cabin boy servant, Charles. Ever since she’d plucked him from a disastrous slip from the mizzen, he’d followed her like a small shadow whenever he had free time from his shipboard duties. When Lieutenant Dalton had asked for volunteers to accompany Willa on the provisioning expedition, the boy had quickly pleaded to be allowed to go along.
She hadn’t argued with her husband’s warning, but seethed silently, reminding herself everyone assumed she’d never ventured beyond the small Scottish town in which she’d grown up. Cullen alone knew the truth, which made his worries even more annoying.
Willa resented his concern, even though she realized it was because he cared. Nonetheless, she’d given him a sharp look when she’d left him in the midst of directing cleaning and fumigation of the lower decks of the Arethusa.
“Have you ever seen anything like the rock?” Marine Sergeant Claridge interrupted her resentful thoughts, pointing toward the summit of the rock formation towering more than a thousand feet above them. Willa forced herself to think through her reply for a few moments. The Arethusa’s coxswain had just lowered the sails on the launch and deftly threw the looped end of the dock line over a piling at the North Mole breakwater.
Willa gave Sergeant Claridge a considered look. “Of course, I’ve seen rock croppings back in Scotland, but nothing this imposing.” When conversing with crew members, she tried to take her time and make up plausible replies as she went. The noonday angle of the sun drenched the sides of the rock with plenty of light, but within a few hours, shadows would creep beneath the summit, throwing the switchbacks slashing up the sides into an early dusk.
“I’ve never been to a latitude this far south, though. The sun feels good on my face, and I’m looking forward to seeing the palmettos and geranium hedges up close. I’ve heard about them for years in letters from my brother and father.”
The Arethusa’s coxswain secured the dock lines before moving toward Willa to help her from the boat. Young Charles beat
