Lady Hannah's Holiday (Spirited Storms #5) (The Spirited Storms)

by Jane Charles

  “You’re going?” Chadburn asked in surprise.

  “Unless you’d prefer to attend Danby at his castle for Christmas.”

  His brother pulled back. “I’ve no desire to be legshackled, especially if the girl in question is a relation to a powerful duke. However, I’d rather not sail to Barbados either, so if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll visit your newly acquired properties and decide which I might want for myself.” He chuckled, but Ashton knew that his brother craved something for himself, something he could build on. If taking one of the properties that were supposed to be an investment off his hands was the answer, then Ashton would happily give it to him.

  “Then I shall write to His Grace declining his kind invitation and inform him of our other destination. Chadburn, tell Eve to prepare for a voyage and a much-needed holiday. I’ll send word to Jude and Vance in the event they wish to join us.” While Eve and Chadburn still remained at Maywood Manor, his younger brothers were rarely home. They might not even have the opportunity to travel since Jude was an investigator with Bow Street and Vance worked with the Thames River Police.

  Henry stood. “I will also send my regrets and see about purchasing passage on the earliest ship available.”

  In the meantime, Ashton would dig further into the records to find an answer as to why his father had been making quarterly payments of two hundred pounds to a Mr. Silas Palmer. As the man also resided in Barbados, this would be the perfect opportunity to discuss the matter instead of relying on correspondence.

  At first Ashton had assumed it was for management of the plantation, but as no sugar had been produced or shipped to England in over a year, he wanted to know what his father had actually been paying for.

  Danby Castle, Yorkshire, August 14, 1817

  “Why do you think Danby wants to see me?” Lady Hannah Storm worried her hands as she paced in the large, cold, formal sitting room at Danby Castle.

  “How would I know?” her older brother, Benjamin Storm, the Earl of Kenly responded. “But I’m damned tired of being summoned each time His Grace needs something.”

  A smile pulled at Hannah’s lips. Truthfully, Ben wasn’t summoned all that often. She suspected that he was irritated at being called away from his wife, Mary, now that her time was near for delivery of their first child.

  “With any luck, whatever he needs won’t take long and we’ll be able to return home tomorrow.”

  Hannah pivoted on her heel and started back across the room. “I still can’t imagine why he wishes to see me.” And that was what worried her. Whenever her great-uncle demanded the attendance of one of his unattached relations, there was usually a spouse waiting in the wings.

  “I have my suspicions, but I could also be wrong.”

  She stopped and stared at Ben, silently praying he would not voice her deepest fear.

  “He’s found a husband for you.”

  Hannah’s stomach churned in panic. Oh please, let them both be wrong. She fully intended to decide upon her own husband, and already had one in mind.

  “You are not here for a husband,” the Duke of Danby announced from the entrance of the sitting room. On his arm was a beautiful, yet older woman. Not as old as Danby though. Hannah wasn’t certain anyone was as old as her great-uncle, except perhaps God.

  “May I introduce my dear friend, the Dowager Marchioness of Whitley?”

  Hannah dropped to a curtsey as Ben bowed.

  “Lady Whitley will be leaving from Edinburgh in a fortnight to visit her daughter,” Danby announced.

  “Where are you traveling?” Ben asked conversationally.

  “Barbados.” Lady Whitley beamed. “I can’t wait to visit my daughter and grandchildren and share the Christmas holiday with them.”

  “And Hannah will be accompanying her as a companion,” Danby announced.

  Hannah blinked at her great-uncle. A part of her was thrilled at the opportunity to travel, but Danby never did anything involving one of his relations without an ulterior motive.

  Exactly who was Lady Whitley to him? Further, had it even occurred to His Grace to ask Hannah if she’d be interested in taking a position as the marchioness’ companion?

  She shook away the thought.

  Danby wouldn’t ask anyone’s opinion. He simply made decisions that he thought were best and then ordered those involved to do his bidding.

  Then the most horrific thought occurred to her and Hannah’s stomach sank. Was Danby sending her away because there was no husband for her? Did he see her as unmarriageable? She was only four and twenty, not quite on the shelf yet. Was this to be her life, a spinster companion to older women for the rest of her days? Was that how Danby saw her?

  On the bright side, if he thought it impossible to find her a spouse, at least he wouldn’t meddle in her life. Well, except for sending her half-way across the world with Lady Whitley.

  “Sadly, that means you will not be with us at Christmas, so my search for your husband will need to wait until spring.”

  Blast! She rather wished he’d thought it impossible for her to marry. “My brother, Peter, has not yet wed,” Hannah pointed out. “As he is older, shouldn’t your focus be on him?”

  Danby narrowed his eyes on Hannah. Her comment was rather impertinent, yet why should Peter be ignored?

  “Do not make me regret this decision to save you for spring,” he barked and thumped his cane.

  Hannah drew back. Goodness, she really should watch her tongue, especially around Danby.

  “Your brother will be married in good time. Unfortunately, he still has a bit to learn before I’ll saddle any young woman with him.”

  Hannah blinked. What could Peter possibly need to learn? He was five and twenty and had completed all his schooling. If it was time for any of them to marry, it was certainly Peter. Though he did enjoy far more freedom than the rest of them. So much so, she saw him rarely, as he had a full life in London, far away from the family. Oh, to be free to live away from mother and do as she pleased…Hannah nearly sighed at the very possibility. Not that she’d ever enjoy the same opportunity, a female and such.

  Danby led Lady Whitley to the settee and Hannah took a seat beside her as Danby settled into a matching chair.

  This reprieve from her great-uncle’s matchmaking also offered Hannah another chance to somehow gain the attention of the Earl of Stalter come spring. He’d been attentive this last year, when allowed the opportunity, such as the one time they’d danced and then partnered at the scavenger hunt. Unfortunately, even if he had any interest in courting her, Mother had ruined any opportunity by dismissing and sending him away the next time he had tried to sign her dance card. Hannah had never been so humiliated in her life. Even though Hannah still thought of him, there was no doubt Stalter had forgotten her, or considered her unsuitable. An opinion she had every intention of changing in the coming spring.

  “I can see the calculation in your eyes, Hannah.”

  She blinked at her great-uncle and schooled her features.

  “Even though your marriage is going to be put off longer than I wish, do not hold out hope that you might still snare the Marquess of Wingate.”

  Hannah frowned. The marquess may be a widower but he was much too old for her. Besides, it was his son, the Earl of Stalter that Hannah wished to know better. “I can assure you that I’ve no interest in Wingate.” Why would Danby even think she’d be interested in someone so, well, old?

  “Stalter’s father passed away last month,” her great-uncle said. “He is now Wingate.”

  Oh, she hadn’t realized.

  “I know you wanted to set your cap for him, but I will not have it.” Danby thumped his cane again. “He is still a relative of Eldridge, and I forbid another relation of mine marrying another relation of his,” Danby insisted.

  How dare he tell her who she could and couldn’t marry! Oh, she hated being told what to do. It would serve Danby right if she married Wingate just to spite him. She just needed to get Wingate
to agree.

  Which, unless she could manage to gain his attention again, without her mother knowing, wasn’t likely to happen.

  “By the time you return next year, I’m certain that I will have found the perfect gentleman for you.”

  “Next year?” How long was she going to be gone?

  “You’ll depart Barbados at the beginning of February with Nathaniel and Isabella.”

  Her older brother, Samuel lived on a sugar plantation in Barbados with his wife, Jillian, and had no intention of returning to England unless forced. Nate, his twin, and Isabella had sailed there shortly after they married for their wedding trip and she hadn’t known when they planned on returning to England. Apparently, however, His Grace was privy to that information. Was there anything her great-uncle did not know?

  “What will be my duties?”

  Lady Whitley smiled. “Simply be my companion on the ship. Once we arrive, one of your brothers shall retrieve you as my son-in-law will retrieve me.”

  Inwardly, Hannah sighed. As much as Lady Whitley seemed kind, Hannah would have hated to be in such close proximity to Sam and Nate and not been allowed to spend time with them.

  “I’ve already written to Samuel to expect you in October, or whenever the tides shall deliver you.”

  “You shall meet me in Edinburgh in a fortnight,” Lady Whitley advised. “A room at the Ram’s Arms will be waiting for you. Passage has already been booked and we will sail when the tide is right.”

  “What of Mother?” Hannah finally asked with a bit of worry, glancing in Ben’s direction. She hoped she wouldn’t have to be the one to tell her.

  “Bah! She’s has no say and I’ll write her directly.” Danby shook his head. “It’s better that you are on a ship and far away, otherwise that woman will see you married to the closest tenant farmer.”

  Hannah bit her lip to keep from giggling since her mother would do exactly that just to keep her daughters close to home.

  “I look forward to the travels.” Hannah smiled at Lady Whitley.

  “As do I, my dear. It will be a grand adventure.”

  Chapter 2

  Bridgetown, Barbados, October 21, 2017

  The docks in Bridgetown, Barbados, were a flurry of activity with sailors yelling, crates being loaded and unloaded, and passengers finding their way on and off ships. Beside Ashton, who was taking it all in, stood Henry and Eve. Unfortunately, his brothers had not joined him, but in truth, his family rarely spent Christmas as a family and often his father had let the holiday pass without notice other than acknowledging Boxing Day, which he saw as a great inconvenience to the household.

  Ashton took a deep breath of the fresh, salty air and glanced around. He’d never been anywhere so bright before, and marveled at the clear, cloudless blue skies, azure Caribbean Sea and gentle breezes that kept the heat at bay. It was no wonder that after Storm had sailed to this island, he hadn’t left it for years.

  Barbados was in complete contrast to London. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the sun and clear skies at home, London did lack the heat, colorful shops, a simple vibrancy of life that so often lacked in Society.

  Persons from all over inhabited the docks and several different languages were being spoken. It was as if the world had converged in one spot—here, and he couldn’t wait to explore more of the town, the island, and Grell Hill Plantation.

  “Henry,” a female called, and they all turned to find Jillian bearing down on them, a bright smile upon her face, the likes of which Ashton had never seen on her before. Behind Jillian strolled a very calm and relaxed Samuel Storm.

  Jillian flung her arms out and hugged Henry the moment she was within reach. After greeting his brother-in-law, Storm then turned to Ashton. “I’ve arranged to have your belongings delivered to Roxburg’s plantation. He is happy to have you, and his home is larger than mine.”

  Ashton frowned. “Why not my own?”

  Samuel winced. “Yours isn’t exactly habitable at the moment.”

  “Nobody told me the place was in disrepair.”

  “I’ll explain once we are on our way,” Samuel assured him. “The lands and house simply need attention to bring it back to what it once was.”

  It wasn’t a question of putting in the work, the concern lay in the amount of funds it might take. Is that why his father had let the plantation fall into disrepair? Not that it should have mattered because sugar was income and shouldn’t have been allowed to go by the wayside.

  “Jillian love, why don’t we escort the gentlemen and Lady Eve to the waiting carriage? I’ll arrange for the trunks to be delivered.”

  Her smile brightened as she linked an arm with Eve’s. “It is so good to see you again and we are going to have the grandest holiday.”

  Ashton stared out the window at the strikingly beautiful and fascinating scenery as they pulled away from the bustling town. He’d read about palm trees of course, and seen sketches, but he’d not appreciated such height of the long trunks, absent of limbs until the palms at the top, which resembled more an umbrella than leaves. Nor could he have imagined the beaches, some of the sand so white that his cravat probably appeared dingy in comparison. Then there were the beautiful, brilliant flowers of red, orange and pink that he couldn’t begin to name, as such didn’t grow in England. At least, not naturally.

  An excitement that he’d not experienced since being a youth built within him. This was exactly what he needed—to be away from England, on a beautiful island, spending time with family. To simply enjoy and relax and not think of the troubles his father had left behind at home. And maybe, in this setting, with his mind and body at ease, a solution to his financial difficulties might come to him.

  “I wish I’d had time to warn you, but the message of your arrival did not reach us until a sennight ago.”

  “Warn?” Ashton asked as some of his excitement started to dim.

  “Your property has been neglected for nearly a year and a half.”

  All Father’s, now his, properties had been neglected and Ashton wasn’t about to let one more lessen the pleasantness of this holiday. He’d worry about the whole of his current holdings when he returned to England.

  “I’m not certain if you are aware, but in April 1816, a man named Bussa led a slave rebellion against the British sugar cane planters. The uprising involved over 400 enslaved people and they set fire to houses and cane fields. Nearly half of the island burned for days. Unfortunately, your plantations suffered severe damage.”

  So much for leaving his troubles back in England. Father’s legacy had followed him here. It was one thing to deal with neglected properties, it was quite another having one destroyed.

  “I don’t understand.” Eve frowned. “Are you saying our father owned slaves?”

  The shocked tone of her voice mirrored Ashton’s thoughts on the matter, though he shouldn’t be surprised that his father had participated in the unsettling practice.

  “The man who had been hired to oversee your plantation was sacked for not protecting your lands.”

  “If the revolt was so large, how could anyone have stopped it?” Eve asked.

  “A single person could not.” Samuel looked her in the eye. “It took the British army four days to bring it to an end.”

  “And my father simply let the place rot afterwards?” Ashton questioned. “Nobody was hired to restore the fields, house…?” Though, given the state of their finances, he probably couldn’t afford to do so either, which explained why there was no more income from sugar production.

  “It appears to be so. The slaves have been taken to another property owned by Mr. Silas Palmer.”

  Ashton frowned. He’d gone through all his father’s papers and there wasn’t any mention of slaves. Had there been, he would have sailed here immediately to correct the situation. Instead, his father had only left behind ledger books documenting the costs of the plantation, without itemizing or offering details, and the income from sugar imports, which ended shortly after the
revolt, and payments to Palmer.

  Were Ashton’s father and this Palmer partners in some manner, or perhaps friends?

  Slaves? He owned slaves?

  Well, no matter the cost to make the sugar plantation profitable again, Ashton had no intention of continuing that barbaric practice of slavery.

  Hannah breathed in the fresh, salty air, closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun. Water lapped at her feet as her toes sank into the sand. This must certainly be heaven on earth.

  “It is good that Mother isn’t here, or she’d have an apoplexy seeing how you’ve discarded your shoes and stockings,” Nate called as he came near enough for her to hear him. His beautiful wife, Isabella on his arm.

  “I’m wearing my bonnet.” Hannah smiled and lowered her chin, then made certain that she was further shielded by the parasol, and was careful to hold her skirts with her other hand. It wouldn’t do to ruin another dress and suffer a sunburn at the same time. “So what if I do freckle? Isabella has them.” They went well with Isabella’s auburn hair and porcelain skin.

  “Ah, but she is safely married, so it no longer matters,” Nate chuckled.

  “Perhaps I don’t wish to be married. Perhaps I wish to stay here for the rest of my days and be a governess to Sam and Jillian’s children. Perhaps I wish to allow my skin to turn golden as yours and be free of the constricts of Society on how a woman should look.”

  “You will want to marry one day, Hannah,” Isabella looked up at Nate, her eyes full of love.

  “While you might have my brother, all that is waiting for me in England are gentlemen farmers or whoever Danby wishes to sacrifice so I don’t become a spinster.”

  Nate laughed. “Don’t dismiss Danby so quickly. He’s been successful at almost every turn.”

  “So far he’s been lucky.” Her great-uncle barely knew her so how could he possibly choose which gentleman would suit her best? “All he’s done is decide who is not acceptable for me.”