Boudreaux’s Lady

by Smith, Lauren

  “Yes, but that’s his choice. The last thing I want is to trap him where he least wants to be.” She tried to remain calm, but this entire situation was putting her on edge.

  “My dear girl.” St. Albans plucked the champagne flute from her hand and set it on a side table against the wall, then he took her into his arms and held her. She was to be forever in awe of this gentle man who was so fierce in his protective love for her. “Are you positive you don’t wish for me to box his ears?”

  She answered with a little giggle, though the feeling was tinged with sadness. “No, please. I will not have you quarreling with him on my account.”

  The duke’s aggrieved sigh spoke volumes. “I thought he had better sense, but it seems he is as stubborn as ever.”

  “Why don’t you go back inside? Roderick seems quite down and I’m certain he could use your support.”

  St. Albans nodded. “I suppose you’re right. The boy’s had a rather unpleasant awakening as to his father’s character.”

  “Have you decided what to do about him?” Philippa asked. “I know we haven’t had a chance to speak about any of this, but I wish for you to know my heart on the matter.”

  Her grandfather inclined his head and listened.

  “Do not tell anyone who I am, or how Roderick and I came to be where we are now. Roderick has done nothing wrong, and I know you wish for him to be the next Earl of Monmouth.”

  “Are you sure?” The duke rubbed at his jaw, thinking it over. “But that would mean no one would know you’re my granddaughter.”

  She clasped his hands in hers. “That is a small price to pay. You and I know the truth and we need not stay apart from one another now that Beau and I are married. But Roderick deserves to be an earl. He stood between me and a loaded pistol. He showed courage against the man he loved as a father against a woman he didn’t know, because he believed it was right. That speaks of the caliber of his character, don’t you agree?”

  “I do.” St. Albans’s voice was slightly rough. “But I didn’t wish to hurt you and cannot choose him over you.”

  “You do not have to,” she assured him. “Let him continue to be Monmouth’s heir.”

  “We will have to be careful not to disclose this to authorities. Your parents will need to be told to be silent on the matter.”

  “I will tell them.”

  “Monmouth missed out on you, my child. Your mother would have been so proud of the woman you have become.”

  Philippa blinked away tears. “Thank you, grandpapa.” She escorted him back into the wedding breakfast but before they could speak further, Rosalind Lennox gently took hold of her arm and led her back the way she came.

  “Might I have a private word?” It seemed to be a rhetorical question, as they seemed destined for that regardless of her answer.

  “Of course, my lady.” Philippa stepped back into the corridor with Rosalind.

  “I’m sorry to keep you from your wedding breakfast, but what I must say cannot wait.” Rosalind grasped one of her hands. “You know how much Ashton and I care about you.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “And we care about Beau as well. He and my husband have been friends a long time.”

  Philippa swallowed thickly as she wondered what the woman planned to say next.

  “I shall get to the crux of the matter. Beau told Ashton he is leaving for New Orleans. You must go with him.”

  It took a moment for Philippa to recover from the fact that Rosalind knew of Beau’s plans to leave. “I cannot. He made it quite clear he didn’t want me to come.”

  Rosalind squeezed her hand. “Do you love him?”

  “I do. You know that. Everyone does, it seems.”

  “Then go with him. Trust me. When I left Ashton, I thought I didn’t want him to come after me, but when he arrived at my brothers’ castle in Scotland, I realized I couldn’t run from my love for him.”

  “But what if it doesn’t change anything? We would be trapped together for two months aboard a ship and in a single cabin. He might grow to despise me.”

  Rosalind chuckled. “My husband would be furious if he ever finds out I told you such a thing, but when a woman decides to take charge of her own desires, a man who cares about her will be unable to resist. Do you understand my meaning?”

  “I’m not sure I do…” In truth, Philippa didn’t follow her at all.

  “I’m saying you must seduce your husband.” Rosalind said in a low whisper. “Those two months alone in a cabin can be very stimulating if one knows what to do. If you show him your desire, he will want you just as badly. He cares about you and it’s human nature. It’s inevitable.”

  Philippa’s face flamed. “Oh! Heavens, I don’t know if I can…”

  “I promise you, if you love him, you can do this. He will forget he ever wanted to be apart from you.”

  Seduce Beau? How could she seduce a seasoned rake like him? Surely, he knew enough about seduction to be wary of it being used against him.

  “Love is worth fighting for. Beau is frightened of what he feels for you, but you cannot let him win this battle. For his sake, not just yours, you must be brave. You have survived so much already. This will be far easier than facing a madman with poison.”

  Philippa took a minute to think. Rosalind’s warm hands held hers as she searched deep within herself. Could she do this? Fight for her love?

  Yes, I can be brave. I can fight for Beau’s heart.

  “I must make arrangements if I’m to leave this evening.” Her trunks would need to be packed and goodbyes would have to be made.

  Rosalind smiled brightly. “I will help. I know the name of the ship he plans to sail on, and I will send a message to the captain informing him you will be coming along as well.”

  “Thank you,” Philippa whispered earnestly, her heart racing. She could only pray this would was the right course of action. She knew her parents would approve, even if it meant saying goodbye. And she couldn’t help but think that the mother who gave birth to her would have also cheered her on.

  Rosalind led her back into the drawing room. “Now that’s settled, you need to see to your breakfast and enjoy yourself.”

  Soon she was surrounded again by her new friends and her heart stung with pain at the thought of leaving them all behind. Her gaze drifted to Beau, who was speaking to Lord Sheridan and Lord Essex. Their eyes met and held, and she knew Rosalind was right. She had to fight for their love. She had to believe they would be happy together. The only thing holding Beau back, was Beau.

  I will fight for you as you fought for me. It is my turn to be brave.

  * * *

  “Roderick, may I speak with you?” Beau approached the recently arrived gentleman. He’d arrived late to the wedding breakfast and his clothes were slightly rumpled, as though he’d slept in them.

  “Yes?” His voice was weary but not unfriendly.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “Barely at all,” the young man admitted. “I’ve come from seeing my father in Newgate. They are treating him well enough. He can afford it, after all, but… I’m so bloody torn about all this. He is my father. He raised me, loved me, taught me everything I know… But what he did to your wife… I can’t forgive him for it.”

  Beau touched his shoulder. “I cannot imagine the conflict you must be feeling.”

  “He never… Beau you must believe me. He wasn’t a monster like that, not always.” He shook his head. “I’m not expressing myself well. What I mean to say is that I do not beg forgiveness for him, but I need you to know that he wasn’t always this way. The man was capable of love.” Roderick was quiet a long moment before he looked at Beau with surprising fear. “What if, because he raised me, I will travel down a similar path? What if the dark seed that started all this was planted within me as well?”

  “I understand your concerns, but you stood between my wife and a loaded pistol. That’s the farthest thing from a path of darkness I can see,” Beau assured hi
m. He had no doubts about the purity of Roderick’s character. The fact that the man even worried about it showed his conscious desire to be good, unlike the man who raised him.

  Roderick looked across the room and spied Philippa. “How is she? We haven’t spoken much since…”

  “She’s healing, a little shaken still, but she is strong and brave. I believe she will come through this well enough.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Roderick said. “I thought she might not wake up and I feared for the worst. Then you collapsed…” Roderick shuddered. “Lord Sommers was…”

  “In many ways he was far worse than your father,” Beau said quietly. “At least Monmouth acted out of his affection for you. Sommers was simply a madman who treated life and death as a game only he was entitled to win.”

  “You’re a better man than me, Beau,” Roderick said. “If that had happened to my wife…”

  Beau looked over Philippa as he had done a dozen times in the last half hour. Something had changed. This morning she’d barely spoken to him. She’d been polite but so reserved, as if wishing to hide from the world in secret shame. Yet now she was holding her head high and her eyes were bright. She looked strong, if that was the right word. Had she accepted his decision to leave for America? The idea of her moving on from him so quickly stung more than he wanted it to.

  You put this distance between you. You wanted this, he reminded himself.

  “Roderick, I’m leaving for New Orleans soon. I hate to ask this of you, but will you watch over her while I’m gone?”

  Roderick looked puzzled. “I would be honored of course, but why must you leave?” For a moment Beau had forgotten the man was only twenty.

  “I must see to a new business venture and I do not wish to deprive my wife of her newfound family and friends.”

  “Er, yes, of course. It’s rather curious. Philippa is not my sister by blood, but I feel bound to her now, much like a brother. She brought me back to my parents, and for that she has my gratitude and loyalty until my dying breath.”

  Beau smiled, in part because she’d had the same effect upon him. She drew people to her. Her steady, faithful heart and brave spirit were irresistible. Even now, she’d insisted her servant friends from the Lennox house be permitted to come to this morning’s breakfast, and all the guests present had assumed the servants, who were dressed in their Sunday best, were acquaintances of Philippa’s from the country.

  It didn’t bother Beau one bit. He rather liked Philippa’s noble heart and would gladly set tongues wagging among the gossips as long as Philippa was happy. And he knew he would miss this. He would miss her. It was all the more reason he had to leave.

  By the time breakfast ended, he’d made his final preparations for departure. His trunks were already on the way to port and his valet was on board preparing their cabins. Since they were traveling on a fine merchant vessel, they would have excellent accommodations for the entire journey. The thought should have comforted him, but he knew the cabin would be a very lonely place. Perhaps he could assist the crew to keep himself occupied somehow during the journey?

  “Sir, what else may I do?” Stoddard asked. When Beau had shared his desire to depart, he’d seen the sadness in the butler’s eyes. They’d been together for so long. He would miss Stoddard and Mrs. Gronow, but he needed them to continue to run his home for Philippa. It wasn’t as if he would be gone forever. Perhaps after a year, he would find the courage that he lacked now to fall in love with his wife, but that was assuming his wife would even still have him. He shouldn’t let himself think of that now, not when he had much to do in New Orleans.

  “I believe that is everything, Stoddard. Is my wife upstairs?”

  “Er… No, sir. She left shortly after the breakfast.”

  “Left?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  That was odd. “You know where she’s gone?”

  “I do not. She did not tell anyone where she was bound when she departed.”

  Beau stared down at his boots and bit his lip. She was gone, and he had no time left to say goodbye. He’d spoken to St. Albans earlier that day and barely survived that discussion. The duke was furious with him for leaving and he’d known that would happen. And now he wouldn’t have a chance to see Philippa again for a year or more.

  “Sir, you should go if you wish to have time to settle yourself on the ship.”

  “Right… Well…” Still he tried to find a reason to delay, but he knew he couldn’t wait for Philippa to return, no matter how much he wished he could.

  He took his hat from Toby the footman and headed out to his waiting coach. The docks were busy in the early evening as men loaded goods on the ships. The sun was now a red sphere dipping into the horizon. He felt bad for asking the captain to make such a late departure in the day, but he’d not wanted to wait another moment.

  Beau climbed out of the coach and walked the long wooden dock toward his ship, his steps becoming heavier with each second. He couldn’t let his guilt stop him; he was doing what was best for him and for Philippa. In time she would understand.

  At the gangplank, he met an officer on the ship who informed him that his luggage was stowed in his cabin and that his valet was on board and ready to depart. He thanked the man before he walked to the railing and rested his palms in the wood. He stared out of the darkening skies over the water.

  The boatswain next to Beau stopped coiling a bit of rope. “Everything all right, sir?”

  “No,” Beau replied honestly. “Not in the slightest.”

  The boatswain blinked, startled by Beau’s blunt and honest response. “Anything I can do to help, sir?”

  “Answer me this,” Beau said. “When a man’s life changes dramatically and he’s afraid… Afraid of losing all that he holds dear, what should he do? Should he run, should he stay?”

  The boatswain abandoned his coil of rope and joined him at the railing.

  “When a storm rises on the open sea, and the wind changes, a man must decide to brave it or try to avoid it. Either way, the man has but to adjust his sails. It’s the only way to keep his ship from becoming lost.” The man eyed him solemnly. “That’s not to say wrecks don’t happen, sir. Ships can be lost, despite every sailor’s efforts to stay above the water, but a man can still survive the storm. He can cling to the wreckage until he finds a way home. The question you have to ask yourself is whether you’re brave enough to adjust your sails when you see the storm coming. Are you brave enough to face the storm, come what may, and hold dear to whatever survives the waves and wind?”

  The sailor then bent and retrieved his rope, finished coiling it and walked back down the deck, leaving Beau alone to contemplate what he said and wonder if he would ever be brave enough.

  Beau braced his arms on the rail and watched the sun sink further down the horizon. All he could think about was what he was losing by walking away from Philippa. He would miss the way she wrinkled her nose when she laughed, and the way she danced, and the way St. Albans eyes lit up whenever he looked at her and Beau together.

  I let everyone down. Everyone that mattered.

  A sudden breeze rushed along the deck of the ship and chased the sails up the mast, puffing them out slightly.

  “A man has but to adjust his sails,” he said to himself.

  Philippa would have liked that saying. He wanted to tell her and see what she thought. He wanted…

  His heart gave a painful jolt as the realization hit him.

  He was never not going to miss her.

  Because he was already in love with her.

  Despite his best intentions, all of his careful plans… Somehow, he’d fallen in love without realizing it. Christ, he’d probably been in love since the waltz at the Essex ball. He could almost see his father in his head, laughing at Beau for not seeing the obvious.

  Beau was suddenly seized with panic. If he left her now, he would only suffer the pain of losing her for the next year, the very pain he had wanted to avoid. And in a y
ear’s time, after how he’d treated her, he feared her feelings for him would ebb away, and rightly so.

  He was already facing the storm. He saw that now, clear as the skies before him. Leaving Philippa would wreck him, drown him. He had to get off the ship…he had to get his wife back. He had to win back the broken heart of the love of his life.

  “I’m a bloody fool!” He cursed and ran toward the quarterdeck. “Captain?”

  The captain leaned over the rail from the deck above. “Yes, Mr. Boudreaux?”

  “Could you wait? I need to disembark. I will not be going to New Orleans after all, at least, not yet. I need time to gather my things.” He raced down the stairs into the interior of the ship. He had to get his valet and trunks off the ship at once.

  He flung open his cabin door and froze. A figure stood by the window as the last rays of the setting sun made her silhouette glow. The figure slowly turned, and a candle illuminated Philippa’s face.

  “Beau, I’m going with you. You cannot have me thrown off this vessel. Lady Rosalind sold her shares in the shipping company to me. As such, I own part of this ship now and—”

  Beau didn’t give his sweet wife another chance to speak. He crossed the room between them and dragged her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He had no idea how she got here, but by God he was thankful she was. She gasped when he finally broke their kiss, half giddy as she touched her lips.

  “Well that’s not the reaction I expected,” she said.

  She felt wonderful in his arms and his eyes burned as he fought off a tide of emotions. He never wanted to let go of her again. “What did you expect?”

  “I expected you to be furious,” she said. “And go off on some long rambling speech about how you were leaving for my own good.”

  He leaned in, touching his forehead to hers. “I was coming down here to have my trunks packed and sent back home. I realized I couldn’t leave you, because I’m in love with you and leaving you was already cutting my heart out of my own chest.”

  “You changed your mind?” Her eyes welled up and he brushed the tears away with his thumb as they shared a lingering gaze full of silent promises they’d both been too afraid to make before now.