Marrying the Royal Marine by Carla Kelly Read Free Book Online

so she took his arm.
    The wind blew steadily from the west, making it the fair wind to Spain her brother-in-law Oliver had mentioned during his last visit to Torquay. Polly breathed deep, half-imagining she could smell the orange blossoms in Nana’s garden, while she wished herself there.
    Colonel Junot walked her around the deck, commenting on the workings of the ship, pointing out the phosphorescence in the water, which he didn’t understand, but which intrigued him. She could tell how much he loved the sea, and she felt her shyness begin to recede. He still seemed to be taking care of her, as though someone had given him that role when he first saw her on deck in Plymouth. She knew no one had, which made her feel protected. It was not a feeling she was accustomed to; probably none of Lord Ratliffe’s daughters was.
    ‘This voyage has been a real trial for you, Miss Brandon,’ he said finally.
    She wished he had continued calling her simply Brandon. He steadied her as they went down the more narrow companionway, and into the wardroom again, which this time was full of Marines.
    All twenty of the frigate’s small complement of Marines had assembled, each carrying a flask. Private Leonard had borrowed a medium-sized pot from the galley, which he set by her door. He saluted the Lieutenant Colonel and stepped forwards, eyes ahead.
    ‘Colonel Junot, if we may take the liberty…’
    ‘By all means, Private.’
    The Private looked at her then, flushed, and glanced away, addressing his remarks to someone imaginary over her shoulder. ‘Miss Brandon, there’s nothing pleasant about vinegar. We decided you should have an opportunity to wash your hair with fresh water. With the Lieutenant Colonel’s permission, we decided to give you our daily ration, and we will not take no for an answer.’
    He said it practically in one breath, then stepped back. As she watched, tears in her eyes, each Marine poured his drinking water for the day into the pot. When they finished, Colonel Junot went to his cabin and brought out his own flask, adding it to the water in the pot.
    ‘You’ll be thirsty,’ she protested feebly, when everyone finished and stood at attention.
    ‘Just for a day, ma’am,’ the Sergeant of the guard said. ‘We’ve been thirsty before.’
    He turned around smartly on his heel, and with a command, the Marines marched back to their posts, or to their quarters between the officers’ berths and the crew. Private Leonard remained at his post outside her door, eyes ahead again, every inch the professional.
    ‘Open your door, Brandon, and we’ll get the pot inside,’ Colonel Junot said.
    She did as he directed, standing back as Lieutenant Colonel and Private lifted in the pot, careful not to splash out a drop of the precious fresh water. She had never received a kinder gift from anyone in her life.
    The Private went back to his post, but Colonel Junot stood in her room, a smile playing around his expressive lips.
    ‘Colonel, I could have waited until we reached port. They didn’t need to do that,’ she said.
    ‘It was entirely their idea, Brandon,’ he replied, going to her door. ‘They only asked that I distract you on deck long enough for them to assemble. Look at it this way: if you ever decide to take over the world, you have a squad of Marines who would follow you anywhere.’
    ‘Why, Colonel?’ she asked.
    It was his turn to look nonplussed. He was silent a long moment, as if wondering what he should say to such a question. ‘Possibly just because you are Brandon Polly, or Polly Brandon. Sometimes there is no reason.’
    ‘No one ever did anything so nice for me before,’ she said, wincing inwardly because she didn’t want to sound pathetic. It was true, though.
    ‘No? Not even your sisters?’
    She could tell he was teasing her now, but there was still that air of protection about him, as though she had become his assignment for the voyage. ‘My sisters are different,’ she told him,