Chapter Twenty-Three

This can't possibly be normal, Emma thought as she looked up from the stone table at Archie who was busy with a few of the other prisoners, splitting logs for firewood. The air was cool and there was no afternoon sun but sweat was glistening off all three men as they hacked at the lumber. Emma's gaze was riveted to Archie's body. She told herself that it was purely for medical reasons. His lashes were not completely healed yet. She was crushing herbs for a paste that she hoped would mend the welts more quickly and ease the itching of the healing tissue. She worried the sweat was stinging his still tender flesh. She certainly wasn't studying his back to enjoy the play and ripple of tight, corded muscle that had begun to redefine itself under Archie's skin. Her own body taunted her with the brazenness of that lie. Emma shifted from one foot to the other to try and ease the damned nearly-ever-present throbbing tickle between her legs before it blossomed into full-blown arousal. Sweet heavens, what had the man done to her? Well, just about everything, Emma thought with a snort, lowering her eyes back down to her mortar and pestle. She had especially liked that thing he had done with his mouth but she'd been much too embarrassed to ask him to do it again. She didn't have to. He seemed to enjoy loving her with his mouth as much as she enjoyed being loved that way. Well, all right, she doubted he loved it quite that much. Emma hid her smile and hoped that the overcast sky hid her flaming cheeks. She almost didn't recognize herself with Archie. She had enjoyed lovemaking since her first time but this constant…wanting couldn't be normal. Archie had stirred her world into this controlled chaos that made the nerves under Emma's skin hum in an agonizingly sweet buzz.

It came upon her in the most innocent of moments. She would be pouring over her notes or administering medicine to a prisoner and then a memory would slam into her, Archie poised above her, strong and warm and filling her so deeply while murmuring the sweetest words of love in her ear or cupping one of her breasts lovingly as he read to her and Emma's breath would catch.

When Emma lifted her eyes again, she caught Archie's gaze and the man winked at her as if he was fully privy to her thoughts. She narrowed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him, which made him laugh softly before he turned back to his work.

Later in the day Emma was standing in Massaredo's dining room, bent over a glass jar filled with her homemade ointment when Archie came in carrying a bundle of chopped wood in his arms.

"God in heaven. What is that foul smell?" He asked after piling the wood in the fireplace.

"This is a present for you later." Emma held up the jar and winked at him, mimicking his earlier gesture.

He walked towards her and sniffed the jar. He grimaced and took a step back saying, "I liked the book of Shakespeare better."

His skin was flushed and still slightly damp and Emma gave into the urge to lay her fingers on his bare shoulder. Archie's eyes flashed with promise, silently telling her she was seconds away from being flung on the table with her skirts up around her waist.

"You're to take it easy for the rest of the day," Emma said, her voice slightly breathless as she forced herself to remove her hand. "I'll make sure to tell Massaredo you're work for the day is done. I don't want you over-exerting yourself." She tapped his nose with her pencil and turned back to her notebook, setting the jar back on the table.

Archie leaned in behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her up against his bare chest to nuzzle the nape of her neck. "It's rather handy having a wife who's a doctor." As soon as the words left his mouth, both of them froze. Oh God.

"I'm…I don't know why…Emma…" Archie pulled back stammering.

Emma gripped his arm, holding him against her as she turned to face him. His eyes were wide with panic and apology. She pressed her fingers to his mouth to stifle any further protests. She tried to still her own trembling by pressing her mouth to his and found, with no small measure of relief that it did help. Her nerves calmed as she held on to him and when she could trust her voice, she pulled back.

"Let's not look to the past, all right, Archie? Right now is all that is important." She looked down and tried to collect herself before continuing. "I claimed to be your wife so that we wouldn't be separated. We've just become used to the pretense. You have no reason to feel guilty." She was speaking both to him and to herself.

He took her hands in his and cleared his throat. "Perhaps…someday it can become-"

She was certain that she hadn't screamed out 'No!" but he must have seen the word there in her eyes because his face fell and he released her hands. Her heart tightened in her chest and she blinked back tears, hating herself for her stupid weakness. They had become so caught up in finding happiness in this small dismal world that it was easy to pretend that there had never been a world beyond these prison walls; that Emma had never been married to Horatio. Until Archie had called her his wife. Reality intruded with the force of a stinging slap across their faces and they were reminded that she belonged to someone else. He's dead, you foolish twit! Emma scolded herself mentally but her heart wasn't ready to completely let go of the tiny glimmer of possibility that Horatio was out there. That doesn't stop you from lying beneath his best friend, does it? Emma shook her head and choked on a sob.

Archie sighed and pulled away. "I have to finish the other rooms," he said woodenly, turning and walking out, leaving her alone.

She spoke with Don Massaredo later that evening, asking him to send word out for any news on the Indefatigable.

"You asked me this when you first came. I told you there was nothing. Why do you ask again?" Massaredo asked warming his chilled hands by the fire.

"I need to put my mind to rest on a matter regarding that frigate and its crew. I need to find a man. Horatio Hornblower."

"Is your husband aware of your curiosity regarding other men?" Massaredo asked with a sardonic grin.

"Yes," Emma lied. "Mr Hornblower is…family. I ask you to do this for me as a kindness."

"I am not known for my kindness," Massaredo reminded her. "Mr. Kennedy can attest to that."

Emma clenched her jaw, not wanting to be reminded of just how brutal a man Massaredo was. It also reminded her that she would still have to face Archie to treat his back. After the early awkwardness of the day, she was not relishing seeing him again. "I can only ask that you do this for me. Just try and find out anything you can. I remind you that I have done all you have asked of me and have served as physician here, carrying out those duties competently and without complaint."

Massaredo gave a suffering sigh. "I will make these inquiries."

When Emma got back to her room, she was alone. Archie was still working with the other men, supplying the guards' rooms with firewood. She bit her nail and stared at the bunk against the wall. Was it over now, she wondered? Had she broken Archie's heart unwillingly? Please, no, she pleaded silently. She couldn't go back to having him withdraw from her. She needed him too much, loved him too deeply. But the evil voice of her guilt would not be quieted, though it hadn't been as audible of late. Emma knew she had to stop this. Horatio was gone. Her head knew it, even if her heart was stubbornly ignoring the knowledge. She had to listen to her head if she was going to move forward with Archie and she had to move forward. She wanted to, desperately. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, stopping the tears before they came.

"All right you. Stop this right now," Emma ordered herself. She needed to prove to Archie that she had no doubts about her love for him. She'd show him that he was her future and the only man in her heart now.

She scanned the room and a glimmer of an idea came to her and her lips curved with a small, hopeful smile.

First, she needed a bathtub.