A Love Worthy

Chapter Eleven

Her scattered thoughts kept her distracted and she tried focusing on the boy in front of her. Douglas Campbell was very tall and thin, but his gaunt stature held little to no muscle. His hands gripping hers were a bit clammy and by the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead, he was racked with nerves. His eyes were a deep cobalt blue and she considered him passably handsome but couldn't help comparing his soft eyes to a pair of intense, sharp depths that resembled the artic regions.

Once the dance ended, she quickly concealed her relief and after a brief exchange of words with Douglas Campbell, she sought her table.

As she started towards it, she paused half way as she caught a flash of deep red. A beautiful woman in a tantalizing gown of red wine that was in striking resemblance to the flowing curls down her back stood next to Dorian. He was talking to her with a grin and that devilish glint in his sharp, blue eyes. Did he know the woman, a lover perhaps?

Ginelle felt a tightening in her chest that confounded her.

Jealousy? Surely not!

She shook her head of the absurd thought. What did she care if Dorian had numerous lovers? But that tightening in her chest intensified as Dorian led the pretty red-head to the dance floor.

She was being ridiculous. Realizing she watched their retreating backs, she jerked her eyes away and continued on towards their table where Lieutenant Cummings waited.

His russet eyes warmed at her approach and he motioned to the seat across from him. "How are you, mademoiselle?" he asked with great mirth.

Ginelle smiled despite the intense urge to look for a distinct towering figure in black moving fluidly along the dance floor. Instead she focused on Lieutenant Cummings. "I am well, Lieutenant, and yourself?"

His smile broadened as he turned to survey the room. "Enduring the festivities, milady."

She laughed, "I assume social events are not your preference, Lieutenant?"

He leaned casually back into the chair and smiled, "Nay, not my first choice. I prefer the brisk ocean air and rolling waves of the deep, blue sea."

Ginelle leaned forward, suddenly intrigued. "Have you spent much time at sea?"

He turned to grin at her, "Aye, since I was a young boy."

Her eyes wavered to the dance floor, "How did you come to know Dorian?"

He paused for a moment before saying, "I was but sixteen, aboard a vessel that had been attacked by brigands." The warmth faded from his russet eyes as he relayed his past and Ginelle caught a glimpse of the sad youth he had once been. "The crew and I were left for dead. It wasn't long before another vessel passed by. The Captain found me dispersed across a plank, clinging to life."

"Dorian is your Captain?"

Cummings smiled over at her, "Aye, milady. He is the commander of many a merchant vessels."

Ginelle turned to study Dorian. That swift tightening returned in her chest as he smiled down at the woman in his arms. He was strikingly handsome when he smiled. The woman must be of some significance to Dorian to get such an unlikely response. They appeared the ideal couple. She was exotic and curvaceous, her beauty fit to appeal too many, including Dorian.