Chapter 8

Eleanor fought the urge to throw up her breakfast as the ship lurched. A storm was brewing outside and the sea showed its displeasure with its monstrous waves that rocked the ship she and Nathan were on back and forth.

'Nathan?' Eleanor whipmered and tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. They stood on the deck, watching the waves and enjoying the wild breeze that caressed their faces. At least, Nathan was. They had boarded the ship to India that morning and although it had only been two hours since they had set sail, Eleanor could not stand the smell of salt in the air or the devilish sea.

Nathan looked down at her and frowned at her face. 'Eleanor? What's the matter?'

'I need to use the powder room,' she said, clasping her hands over her mouth to prevent vomiting.

Nathan's eyes widened as understanding dawned on him. 'Lord, are you seasick?' he asked, frantic.

Eleanor could only nod. She stayed mute for fear of issuing something more than words from her mouth.

Nathan grabbed her elbow and led them inside, quickly ushering them past other passengers who looked aghast at the young woman who was trying very hard to not vomit. They stayed clear of her to avoid being the target of her unholy spew.

'Why did you not tell me before?' Nathan hissed as he pushed her into their room and shut the door behind him. Eleanor hurried to the lavatory and dropped to the ground. Clutching the sides of the closet, she heaved into it. The strong smell of acid and something putrid burned in the air which caused Eleanor to vomit once again. Just when she thought it was over - that no more of her breakfast was going to make an appearance - another bout of nausea rolled over her and groaning, her head disappeared into the closet yet again.

When she resurfaced, she felt a rub on her back and turning, found Nathan crouched beside her, his big warm hands gently moving up and down her back. The feeling was comforting and she grinned weakly at him before vomiting.

'I did not think you ate a lot this morning,' Nathan remarked, peering into the closet and flushing it. It was remarkable that the closets in the ship flushed. She wondered where the waste would go. After all, it had not been much time since flushing closets had come in the market.

'Neither did I. I think last night's dinner is in there too.' Eleanor removed her gloves and rubbed her mouth. Her hand came away covered in yellow and orange. She twisted her face into a grimace and Nathan laughed. 'Are you disgusted by your own vomit?' he asked.

'I am disgusted by anything that is disgusting. Be it mine or yours,' she said, getting up from her place on the floor.

'Here,' Nathan said, handing her a handkerchief. Eleanor took it gratefully and wiped her mouth and hands with it before turning to the sink to wash away any remnants of vomit on her face.

She attempted to smooth down the green silk of her gown although it was of no use. It was absolutely rumpled from her sprawl on the floor.

'Eleanor, why don't you change and meet me for lunch?' Nathan said. 'I shall go down and reserve a table for us.'

Eleanor wrinkled her forehead. 'I do not think I shall eat anything until I set foot off this blasted vessel.'

Nathan quirked a brow. 'Are you really going to not eat for two weeks?'

Eleanor blanched as her head wrapped around that little fact. 'Two weeks?' she asked incredulously. 'We're to be at sea for two weeks?'

Nathan nodded, smirking. 'Certainly. This is one of the fastest ships too. Any other and we would have taken longer.'

'Well, then,' Eleanor said. 'I will eat later. However, I do not think I can eat anything at the moment. My stomach is still quite upset.'

Nathan nodded. 'Try not to vomit again while I'm away,' he said, a twinkle in his eye. 'I do not think I can return to a putrid-smelling room just after lunch. The godawful smell is revolting as is and my stomach is already churning.'

Eleanor scowled and lifted her chin. 'I will try. But I do not make any promises.'

Nathan feigned horror and placed a hand over his heart. 'God help me,' he said before leaving the room and closing the door behind him leaving Eleanor to stare at up at the ceiling as she lay on her bed.

**********

'How was lunch?' Eleanor asked when Nathan came back to the room a few hours later. Eleanor gathered it was evening when he came back, from the way the dim rays of red and gold lighted danced into the room through the only window in the room.

'I met someone,' he replied, his eyes gleaming as he closed the door behind him and sat at the edge of the bed Eleanor was lying on.

Eleanor frowned and sat up. 'Met someone?'

Nathan nodded. 'Yes. He was my best friend growing up. I lost acquaintance with him after I left for Eton and moved to London. This is the first I'm seeing him in ten years!'

'How lovely for you!' Eleanor exclaimed. 'He can entertain you the next two weeks while I'm heaving into the closet.'

Nathan laughed and shook his head. 'As much as the prospect of seeing you vomit again revolts me, I shall be by your side the entire time.'

Eleanor snorted, unladylike. 'It is not as if I am with child. I will merely be...indisposed for the next two weeks. You do not have to stay with me in the room for two weeks.'

'Surely you are not planning to stay here the entirety of the journey?' Nathan asked, frowning.

Eleanor nodded enthusiastically. 'That is exactly what I plan on doing. I shall ask for my food to be brought to the room.'

Nathan chuckled deeply before standing up and holding out a hand to her. 'Come,' he said.

Eleanor frowned down at his hand before looking back up at him. 'I am not leaving this room, Nathan.'

Nathan sighed and grabbed Eleanor's hand, yanking her up, causing her to crash into his chest.

Oh, he smells divine! Eleanor thought as she inhaled his masculine scent. He smelled of pine and...was that homemade soap?

Suddenly realising their proximity, Eleanor backed up, taking careful steps away from him.

'Are you alright?' Nathan asked, a frown on his beautiful face. 'You look pale. You're not going to get sick again, are you?'

Eleanor nodded. 'I am absolutely alright.' No, she was not. Her mind was reeling with the fact that she had thought him beautiful. When did such unholy, impure thoughts creep in?

Nathan's face continued to hold the frown. 'Well, then. This is the perfect reason to get you out of the room,' he said and grabbed her hand and pulled her out, not giving her any room for argument.

**********

'I do not like you,' Eleanor stated, her teeth chattering as she hugged her wrap tight around her bare shoulders, attempting to shield them from the cold wind that bit her sharply. 'I do not like you at all.'

Nathan guffawed. 'Of course you don't. That is the reason why you are digging your nails into me.'

Eleanor scowled but her teeth continued chattering. Nathan had forced her out on the deck and they stood at the railing, looking out at the harsh, violent sea. The sun had set and darkness now painted the sky while the stars twinkled bright and happy.

'I am digging my nails into you because it is freezing out here. This is your punishment for bringing me here.' Her nails dug into his arm deeper and he yelped in pain.

'I sometimes highly doubt if you are, indeed, a lady,' he said, rubbing his arm. 'And I thought my sister was unruly! You, my dear, are another case altogether.'

'Well, I am glad you now know,' she said.

'Nathan!' someone called from a distance. Both Eleanor and Nathan turned their heads to look at a finely-dressed man run up to them. As he approached, Eleanor noticed that he was dashingly handsome; golden locks framed his pale face and his eyes twinkled brown in the moonlight. But he wasn't as good-looking as Nathan.

'Francis!' Nathan exclaimed and clapped him on the back as he came to stand near them. 'Where did you go? I left you for a moment and you were gone. I searched but in vain. In the end, I went back to my room.' Eleanor watched the exchange with confusion. Who was this Francis?

'Sorry, old chap,' Francis said, his face lighting up with a grin. 'The missus wanted me. She's been holed up in our room all day, puking her guts out.'

Nathan laughed. 'So has Eleanor.'

Francis frowned and asked, 'Eleanor? Do you mean your wife?'

'Yes,' Nathan said and turned to Eleanor who had released her death grip on Nathan's arm. Francis also turned and for the first time, noticed Eleanor standing next to Nathan. 'Francis, this is my wife, Eleanor.'

Francis's face morphed into confusion. 'Her?' he asked incredulously.

That frown that Nathan favoured time and again made an appearance yet again as he said, 'Yes, her. This is Eleanor. My wife.' Then, he turned to her and said, 'Eleanor, this is Francis Carter, an old friend.'

Eleanor dipped into a low curtesy, flashing him a smile.

Francis, however, opened and closed his mouth like a fish. 'But...she's not English!'

Nathan's frown turned into a grimace and Eleanor's smile dropped too. Ah, so he was one of those men. She had an inkling as to what was going to happen next by looking at Nathan's stance. Surprisingly, she had learnt quite a lot about him this past week.

'She is English in every sense of the word, Francis,' he said. 'She is the daughter of the Marquess of Salford.'

'But she is Indian!'

Nathan gripped Eleanor's elbow in a protective gesture and Eleanor knew then and there, that this was not going to end well.

'Her true heritage is Indian, yes,' he bit out. 'But she was adopted by the Marquess when she was but a babe. But, she is English.'

Francis glanced at Nathan in shock before looking at Eleanor with incomprehension . 'You married an Indian?' he asked, his tone laced with disgust.

Eleanor looked up at Nathan to find him anger ablaze in his blue eyes, ready to pounce on his friend. She cut him just as he was about to retort, placing a hand on his chest. The other people on the deck were starting to avert their gazes in their direction and Eleanor hated the attention they were getting.

'Mr. Carter,' Eleanor said, her voice grim. 'I really do not appreciate you making a scene out here for everyone to enjoy. I highly suggest you lower your voice.'

Francis looked at her in anger. 'I do not take orders from you, girl!'

Nathan moved forward, his fist ready to punch him but Eleanor held him back again. 'I,' Eleanor announced, 'am Lady Eleanor Huntington, the Duchess of Wolverhampton. I believe I am far above you in society. It would do you well to speak to me with respect!' she said, her eyes ablaze.

Francis fumed but held back from answering. He knew she was right. The Duchess of Wolverhampton was a very high title, only a few steps below the title of Queen. To provoke her was to bring the wrath of the entire dukedom down on him and Eleanor knew no man in their right mind would want that.

'Now that that has been settled, I shall retreat to my room,' Eleanor declared and smoothed down her skirts. 'Nathan, I trust you shall finish up here and meet me back in our room. Good day, Mr. Carter.'

With that, she walked away from the appalling man and the crowd of onlookers - which had multiplied in the last few minutes - leaving behind a surprised-looking Nathan in her wake.