by Leah Conolly
“What has happened?” he asked.
The men stared at him with matching expressions of shock. Duncan moved closer, noticing that the crate’s lid was lying on the ground. He looked up, and his own mouth fell open. Inside it were two terrified young women.
Duncan jumped into action.
“Lower that crate at once,” he shouted to the stunned shipmates. His authoritative tone snapped them out of their trance, and they scattered. Within moments, the crate had been gently lowered back down to the dock. Duncan, seeing the women were now safe from grievous harm, took a moment to collect himself before he approached the crate.
“Well, well,” he said, bemusement replacing his earlier surprise and concern. “What have we here?”
The two women exchanged a fleeting look of terror before attempting to flee from the crate. The hems of their dresses got caught on the rim of the box, and Duncan was easily able to snag their arms gently as they tried to pull free.
“Correct me if I am wrong,” he said slowly, “but the two of you do not look like any bottles of port wine I have ever seen.”
The women looked at the ground, not meeting his gaze.
“This is quite the predicament, you see,” he continued. “For I found you in place of a missing crate of wine. It does make me wonder if, perhaps, the rest of my wine was not misplaced, after all, but rather stolen.”
At this, the blond woman’s head snapped up, and she met his gaze directly.
“Such a crime would make us rather foolish. Why would we climb into the very crate from which we stole and try to sneak aboard the same ship onto which it was being loaded?” She patted the pockets of her unremarkable, somewhat dirty dress. “And besides, where on earth would we have managed to hide so much wine?”
Duncan chewed his lip to stifle a laugh. He knew very well that these women could not have stolen or hidden all that wine between the time the shipment arrived and the time he found them inside the crate. He did, however, wonder why they would risk stowing away amongst a ship’s cargo.
“Well, it was rather foolish to try to illegally board a ship without paying for your journey,” he said. “Either foolish or desperate. I am merely trying to discern which.”
The women exchanged a look, and the fair-haired one fell silent once more. Duncan noticed how beautiful she was, and he could not help wondering why on earth she would take such a risk.
“We really are terribly sorry,” she said, “but you must believe that we are not thieves.”
Duncan swallowed another chuckle.
“Stealing away on a ship without paying is theft, young miss,” he said.
The woman blushed again, and Duncan felt remorseful when he saw the look of shame that came over her face.
“We are truly sorry,” she repeated, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.
Duncan thought for a moment. He did not wish to see them arrested, but he did need to know why they were trying to stow away on his ship. Whoever and whatever they were, they were clearly not dangerous, and, if they were in some kind of trouble, he wanted to help them if he could
To his surprise, the darker-haired woman looked right at him.
“Is there anything we can do to correct this situation?” she asked. Her voice was timid but steady. “We truly meant no harm. We just had no other choice.”
Duncan looked at her, appreciating the direct way the women spoke, despite how scared and uncomfortable they were.
“Well, that depends,” he said.
The women looked at each other once more, and then back at him.
“On what does it depend?” the brown-haired woman asked.
“On how honest you are with me about what you were doing in the crate,” he said. “And why exactly you had no other choice but to stowaway on my ship.”
The women looked at each other with identical expressions of fear and worry.
Chapter 3
Charlotte stared at the man before her, terrified. Her mind fumbled for any feasible reason as to why they were hiding in a cargo crate, but she came up with nothing. She dared to glance at Ruth, whose face was red and streaked with tears. She prayed that her maid would not suffer, as her only crime had been being unwaveringly faithful to her mistress.
“Please,” she said. “Punish me if you must but release my friend. This was all my idea. She wanted nothing to do with it.”
The man folded his arms across his chest and studied the women.
“Even if that were true, I caught you both trying to smuggle aboard my ship. Not just you. I do not decide who evades justice, and who deserves it.”
He began pacing in front of the women, and, for a brief moment, Charlotte considered another attempt to flee. She felt sure that they would fail again, however, and any punishment they received would likely be far worse if they continued trying to run. “I believe that the constable would be of great help to me in this situation. If you don’t start being honest with me, I am afraid that I will have no choice but to call him and explain what has transpired here.”
Charlotte bit her lip. She knew she must tell this man something, but she was still at a loss for an explanation. She could not tell him who she truly was. Even though Christine was already on her way to France, if word reached her father that Charlotte was still in London, and that she had not kept her word to marry the Comte, her father would see to it that both she and Christine were in as much trouble as the law would allow. On the other hand, if she did not tell this man something approaching the truth, he might do the same.
She took a deep, shaky breath, and met the gentleman’s gaze once more.
“My name is Christine Becker,” she began. As she spoke, she also tried to think of a way to keep Ruth blameless. “I fell in love with a fortune hunter who abandoned me when my father refused to sanction our match and cast me out. Since then, I have been forced to scavenge on the streets.” She paused to take another breath and buy herself a few more moments. She was trying her best to remember Christine’s tale, but fear and shame were clouding her mind. She knew that even a single wrong detail could mean the end of her charade, resulting in her and Ruth facing a fate worse than marrying a scoundrel Comte.
Floundering, she decided that she would add a small piece of the truth into her tale. “I have nowhere else to go, with a father who does not want me and a man who no longer loves me. I was simply trying to find a way to get to the New World and start over.”
The man’s eyes flickered with what Charlotte felt sure was amusement, but, if it was, it was well concealed. He nodded slowly, glancing at Ruth. Charlotte’s heart sank to her stomach.
“What about your friend here?” he asked. “Is she on the run as well?”
Ruth tensed up, and Charlotte shook her head.
“This is Ruthie,” she said, wincing at once. Why had she not come up with something else? Ruthie was too close to her maid’s real name. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She decided to remain as honest as possible. “She is my maid.”
The man looked at her skeptically.
“If you have no money, how can you pay a maid?” he asked.
Ruth spoke at last.
“I agreed to be her maid in exchange for the chance to go to the New World and receive the same opportunities as Christine,” she said quietly.
Charlotte said a silent prayer of gratitude for Ruth’s quick thinking. She and Ruth had known each other since they were children. Ruth and her mother had worked for Charlotte’s family since both were young girls. After her mother died when they were in their early teens, Ruth stayed on as Charlotte’s lady’s maid. Truthfully, she was glad that Ruth had fought to stay behind with her, instead of going to France with Christine, though she also felt guilty, because she knew how excited Ruth had been about France.
The gentleman continued to study the women, his expression unreadable. Charlotte felt sure that he did not believe a word of their tale and was about to turn them over to the authorities. She cursed herself fo
r being so impulsive and getting them into such a mess.
At long last, the gentleman broke the silence.
“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he began, and Charlotte’s heart sank. Of course, he was going to have them arrested. What man in his right mind would not?
He glanced behind them at the crate in which they had sought refuge, and chuckled. Charlotte was confused. Did he find stowaways humorous?
“You were never going to make it to the New World. Not on this ship, anyway,” he continued.
Charlotte exchanged a look with Ruth.
“I do not understand,” she said. “There are ships that sail there from this dock, are there not?”
The gentleman nodded.
“Oh yes, indeed,” he said. “But I am afraid that my ships only go to France.”
Charlotte’s heart sank. Of course, it would be exactly her luck that the one way out of her predicament would put her in the very place she was trying to avoid.
The gentleman was paying much closer attention to her reactions than Charlotte would have preferred. He was studying her with great care, and she did her best to hide her disappointment. She could not blame him for his close scrutiny. She could not imagine how she might feel if she were in his position, but she felt her cheeks growing hotter and wished that he would either turn them in to the authorities or let them go.
At last, the man spoke.
“What is it about the New World that was so important?” he asked.
“It’s a new world,” Charlotte muttered without thinking.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked.
Charlotte shook her head, the additional embarrassment of her careless utterance infuriating her.
“I know that I have no right to press you, as we are certainly in no position to demand anything of you at this moment,” Charlotte began.
“You are correct about that,” the gentleman said gently, cutting her off. “But that does not mean that you do not deserve the chance to speak your piece.”
Charlotte took a deep breath, wondering at the motives of this kind, handsome gentleman.
“What I mean to ask is, what do you plan to do with us?” she asked. “We have caused a spectacle for long enough. If you wish to arrest us, we could hardly blame you, but, if not, I think that we would all benefit from a quick end to this public display.”
The gentleman chuckled.
“I can appreciate the way you think,” he said, “and you are not wrong.”
Charlotte felt relief wash over her. She could not begin to guess what their fate would be, but at least the man seemed reasonable and rational. Not wanting to push her luck, she remained silent and watched the man with careful eyes.
Instead of answering her inquiry right away, however, he clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing. Charlotte thought that her heart might explode in her chest, and one glance at Ruth told her she felt the same way. She bit her lip to keep from repeating her earlier questions, praying that the situation would be resolved quickly.
All at once, the gentleman looked at her again. For the first time, Charlotte noticed the kindness in his eyes, and how prominent the laugh lines around his mouth were. A shiver went down her spine, and she found herself relaxing more than anyone in her position probably should. She sighed and awaited his next words.
“Here are my thoughts,” he said.
Charlotte and Ruth both nodded, neither daring to exchange looks again.
“The two of you are apparently not thieves,” he continued. “Nor, as I see it, are you criminals.”
Ruth uttered a quiet sob. Charlotte bit her lip and stayed silent, opting to send up silent prayers of both gratitude and wonder at this turn of events.
“What I think I will do is offer you employment,” he said at last.
It took Charlotte a moment to understand what he had said. She had expected many things, but the offer of a job was not one of them.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked.
The gentleman chuckled again.
“You said that you wanted to go to the New World in search of employment,” he said.
Charlotte gave herself a mental shake, furious with herself for forgetting the story she had told.
“Yes, my lord,” she said.
The man nodded.
“Well, it just so happens that I am looking for an assistant,” he said. “I need help organizing the many details of my business ventures.”
Charlotte lifted her head and looked at the man curiously. She had only just met him, and he was offering her employment. Who was he?
As though he read her mind, he smiled.
“I assure you that my business ventures are all proper and legal,” he said. “I would not ask you to do anything that was otherwise.”
Charlotte nodded.
“I was merely wondering why you would offer such an opportunity to a perfect stranger,” she said honestly.
The gentleman nodded.
“That is a fair question,” he said. “It is because I feel that the debt of your transgression would be better addressed in my service than at the hands of a cold justice system.” Before she could respond, he ceased his pacing and looked directly into her eyes. “Especially since it seems that this would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do you not agree?”
Charlotte swallowed the sob of relief she felt building in her throat. She stood up straighter and met his gaze.
“I would certainly agree,” she said.
The man nodded once more.
“Very good,” he said. “Do we have an agreement?”
Despite the great kindness this stranger was offering her, Charlotte still felt some reluctance to give up her scheme of escaping to the New World. She knew that if she stayed in London for too long, someone would surely identify her and inform her father. She was not sure if she could risk it, for either herself or for Ruth.
The gentleman smiled.
“Fret not, Miss Becker,” he said. “If you should find work in my employ not to your liking and still wish to go to the New World, I will endeavor to help you reach there.”
Charlotte gasped, embarrassed that her face had betrayed her thoughts. She collected herself quickly and squared her shoulders.
“If it means that we shall not see the inside of a jail cell,” she said, “then I suppose I will gladly accept your offer, kind sir.”
Chapter 4
Duncan watched the women closely, waiting for Christine’s response. There was something about her, about her story, that seemed false, but he could not quite put his finger on it. He did not believe she was a criminal evading justice, but he felt certain that Christine was not being entirely honest with him.
He was also certain that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He could not begin to guess what secrets she could be harboring, but he was fascinated by her, and he wanted to get to know her better. He felt that, when she was ready, Christine would learn to trust him and tell him her secrets.
At last, Christine took a deep breath.
“Well, if it means that we do not see the inside of a jail cell, then I suppose that I gladly accept your offer, sir,” she said, with a slight curtsey.
Duncan found himself releasing a breath that he did not realize he had been holding. He smiled at the blond woman and bowed deeply to her.
“It has certainly been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Becker,” he said, not realizing how true the words were until he said them aloud.
Both women curtseyed to him, but only Christine met his eyes.
“A pleasure, indeed,” she said. “When will I begin my work?”
Duncan froze. He had not considered anything further than extending the job offer. He had half expected her to reject him at once and flee when his guard was down. After a brief second, however, he recovered.
“Tomorrow morning, if that is agreeable,” he said.
The women exchanged another look, one which he was pleased to see was
more curious and thoughtful than distressed and fearful.
Christine cleared her throat.
“Tomorrow morning would be perfect,” she said.
Duncan nodded, pleased that she had decided to stay instead of running. If he were honest with himself, he would not have thwarted any further attempts to flee.
In fact, he would hardly have blamed them. He felt certain they both knew that had he chosen to press charges, he would have done so by that point. And he knew that, scared and confused as they were, they had at least determined that he intended them no harm. However, he found himself glad that they did not run, nonetheless. “Very well,” he said. “Then let us move this discussion away from all these curious eyes.”