01 - Captured Dreams

by May McGoldrick

  Reluctantly, Turner sat down and turned his attention back to the game. “I believe ‘tis my move.”

  “Aye.” Dudingston took a deep draught of rum and they sat in silence for a moment. “Besides, I want to hear about this woman. They tell me the whore struck you down like a dog and ran off with some filthy Scot. They say that is why you are after her, to teach her a lesson.”

  Turner felt his ears catch fire. Fighting down his anger, he kept himself in control. He took Dudingston’s bishop.

  “I believe your queen is in jeopardy, Lieutenant.”

  Dudingston’s hand hit the table, spilling the rum. With an angry sweep of his unbandaged arm, he knocked the board and pieces off the table.

  “Bugger the queen. They were laying odds you never even had her. But I don’t care to believe that, Turner. Tell me how many times you stuck the whore. I want to think that the dirty Scot ended up with only the crumbs off your table. Tell me—”

  In his rush to leave the cabin, Turner knocked his chair down, but he did not stop to right it. Out on the deck, he leaned over the railing and breathed heavily.

  Dudingston was right, he thought. She is a whore! She was the sole cause of his ruin.

  He did indeed have a mission, however. He’d bring Helena back to the Admiral. But, by God, he’d make sure Portia paid for all of this first.

  *****

  Pierce gazed down at the woman tucked into his embrace. He didn’t want to take his eyes from her angelic face as she slept. He hadn’t thought of how tiring these past weeks must have been on her until she’d fallen asleep soon after they’d finished their lovemaking. Not only taking care of Helena, but she was also sleeping on the hard floor of a cramped cabin. He’d offered her no comfort. He hadn’t done much of a job of taking care of her. But everything was going to change now.

  Portia did strange things to his insides. She made him ache in a way that he’d never felt before. Before meeting her, he’d known many women. He’d experienced passion, the physical power of desire. But Portia managed to awaken so much more in him, and it was liberating to know that he no longer compared her to Emma.

  She was her own person. And his hunger to be with her, to make love to her, to protect her was unmatched by anything he’d ever felt for any other woman.

  He thought of how close they were to the end of this journey. He regretted how many weeks he’d wasted keeping his distance from her. Touching a lock of a silken curls on his pillow, Pierce looked down at Portia’s beautiful face and knew that he was not ready for their time together to end. She stirred in his arm, and he brushed his lips against her brow. Feeling the way he did now, Pierce didn’t think he would ever be ready to let her go.

  He watched her eyelids flutter and then open. Her magical eyes gradually focused on his face. “I fell asleep.”

  She stretched lazily, and his body came to life at the feel of her smooth skin against his, at the tease of her foot rubbing innocently against his leg. She was a master at exciting him, at driving him mad with desire, and she didn’t even realize it.

  She looked in the direction of the windows. “I should get back to my cabin before Helena awakens.”

  “Not yet. ‘Tis still too early.” He brushed her lips with his own. “Besides, I believe I have your mother’s blessing to look after you.”

  “This is certainly some kind of looking after.” She smiled and rolled until her head lay on his arm and she was facing him. He ran his hands over the gentle curves of her back as she nestled her body against him. “Do you know, I never thanked you for everything that you have done for her? You have truly been a gentleman, a saving angel, a—”

  “A fool for not realizing how right you were about taking your mother away from that house.” He shook his head. “For having been a stubborn, pigheaded—”

  “Stop!” She raised her head off his arm and glowered at him. “You will not berate yourself like that. I am the one who started everything off wrong, and from there it all simply went downhill. If there is anyone who should be blamed—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “Very well. I shan’t berate myself, but neither shall you. But I do apologize. And you must accept it, or I shall pretend I am you and drag this conversation on until—”

  “Accepted.” She smiled, dropping her head back on his arm and looking at him with such adoration that Pierce began to feel awkward.

  He tried to think of the right words for the question that he’d been contemplating as her fingers caressed the day’s growth on his face. He finally decided on the direct approach.

  “Will you come to Baronsford with me?”

  “I cannot,” she said without a moment’s consideration.

  “Why?”

  “Because my mother and I must go to Wales. I need to find Lady Primrose before she goes anywhere for the summer.”

  “She might already be gone,” he reasoned.

  “Then we shall wait for her there until her return.” She rolled on her back, staring at the ceiling.

  “But that might not be safe.” He pushed up onto one elbow and looked down at the stubborn set of her mouth. “Think of it, Portia. Whatever the circumstances were surrounding your birth, they were shocking enough to make Admiral Middleton more than uncomfortable for all these years. What makes you think he is going simply let it go now? His is certain to send someone after you.”

  “He doesn’t know where I am.”

  “Admiral Middleton has built his entire career on knowing the whereabouts of his enemies.” Pierce took hold of her chin and drew her face toward him. “Everyone you knew in Boston has had heard you speak of your benefactor. How long do you think it will be before he decides that you have returned to Lady Primrose?”

  “Lady Primrose has great influence. She can find a place for me somewhere, a place where we can hide until we find a more permanent position.”

  “Is that what you want to do? Find a place to hide? You could be running and hiding for the rest of your life.”

  “That is my only choice.” She pushed herself up onto an elbow, too. “But freeing my mother is worth it. We are both willing to make that choice and live that life if we must. We shall do whatever we need to do to keep her from going back.”

  Pierce nodded. “Then come to Baronsford with me. You can send Lady Primrose a letter when the ship docks at Greenock. You can tell her where you’re going, and she can send her answer to you there. That way, there is no chance of putting yourself or Helena in unnecessary danger. Think of it as the opportunity to put your plans in order. ‘Tis an opportunity to do things right. And in the meantime, we’ll be together.”

  “No,” she said, starting to get out of the bed.

  He pushed her back down, glowering at her. “You are not being reasonable. Why?”

  “That is the time you should have with your family. You do not need me and my mother—”

  “But I do need you.” Pierce pressed a hand against her chest to keep her down when she tried to rise again. “Does that matter to you at all? I do need you with me when I go back to Baronsford.”

  Pierce shocked himself as much as he did Portia. He hadn’t even realized the truth until now.

  “I admit that I am somewhat nervous about going back. I left that place…well, under some very unpleasant circumstances. My older brother, the earl of Aytoun, had been very badly injured. In fact, he was in danger of dying. His wife Emma, a woman I knew my entire life, was dead. Our family had been torn apart by the events leading up to the tragedy. I left, vowing never to go back. But now I am, and you are largely responsible for it. ‘Twas because of things you said to me, because of the value you place on family that I finally read Lyon’s letter. And that was when I learned of the changes in his life. That is when I decided that I must go back…and perhaps make peace.”

  The floodgates of his past were open. Pierce didn’t try to stop himself. He went on and told Portia about Emma. About David. About Lyon…the man he had been and the man he appeared to b
e now. He told her all the news he had learned of the changes that were occurring at Baronsford. She remained silent through it all. Her dark eyes welled up, though, when she heard how he had been the one to find Lyon and Emma at the bottom of a cliff.

  “You are the only solid thing in my life right now.” Pierce told her finally. “It may sound strange, but you make me whole. And I need all of me… there…when I go to Baronsford.”

  Portia rose up and kissed him, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “I will come. I will be there for you.”

  *****

  It was still dark in the little cabin when Portia quietly slipped in through the door. Lying there awake, Helena stared at the dim shape that she knew was her daughter. She said nothing until the young woman came close and gently adjusted the blanket on her.

  “I am very comfortable, thank you.”

  “I awakened you. I’m sorry.”

  “I am awake, but you are not responsible for it. In fact, because I was not subjected to your nightly moaning and groaning, I had a very good night’s sleep.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Portia whispered, reaching down and placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

  Helena felt it, the touch of sadness in her daughter’s voice. She caught Portia’s hand before she could pull away.

  “Talk to me, my sweet. What’s wrong? What silliness has gotten between you two now?”

  Portia sat down on the edge of the bunk. “There is nothing wrong. But I beg you…” Her voice wavered. “I beg you, Mother, to not make any comments about Pierce and I being…having…”

  “Being lovers? Being two people clearly made for each other?”

  “Pierce and I might be…well, lovers,” she said shyly. “But that does not mean there is any future for us. And this is why I am begging you not to think that there is more to what I am about to tell you than there is.”

  “What, child?”

  “We have a change of plans. Pierce wants us to go with him to Baronsford, his family’s home in Scotland. He thinks if I were to send a letter to Lady Primrose as soon as we reach port, then we might have an answer soon after we arrive at Baronsford. It makes sense, for if she thinks we are safer in Scotland than we would be in England or Wales, even temporarily…” Portia shrugged. “It just appears much easier this way.”

  “He wants to introduce you to his family. I understand.”

  “Please, Helena,” Portia said, her voice cracking slightly. “This is more painful than I thought it would be. You must understand that there can never be any future between Pierce and me.”

  “Any why is that?” The older woman sat up and wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. They sat for a moment in silce. “I understand. This is all about differences in your place in society…about money. Well, I can tell it matters a whit to your young man that you have no dowry.”

  “But it matters to me,” Portia said stubbornly. “Not a dowry, necessarily, but I shall not walk into any relationship where I do not bring something that gives me some…some footing.”

  “Even Mad Helena knows that a woman’s social class has little to do with a woman’s real value.”

  “But I know that he and I are just too far apart…in everything in life.” Portia turned to her. “Please, Mother. Let it be.”

  Helena wanted to reason with her daughter, but she also understood. Portia might have been raised in a school without the everyday guidance of a real parent. But Helena had an idea that she knew what Lady Primrose probably instilled in this child—all the moral standards and restrictions of their class structure.

  “Very well. I should like to send a letter to Lady Primrose, as well,” she announced to her daughter.

  “I thought you do not know her.”

  “She took care of you. Raised you. I believe ‘tis time I introduced myself.”

  Portia patted her hand. “I should be honored to serve as your scribe.”

  “Thank you. But you will not do.”

  “I fear you are up to mischief now, Helena.”

  “Nothing you need to worry yourself about.” She was glad to hear the laughter in her daughter’s voice. “This is just something between two old women. I need to make my requests as to the kind of position Lady Primrose might provide for you. Oh, let me think! Pierce will not do either as my secretary. But that young man…Captain Cameron. He is a kindly Scottish gentleman. I believe I shall ask him. I think he shall do very nicely.”

  “I think you are becoming fond of Captain Cameron,” Portia said, teasing her. “I wonder if this might all be just an excuse to spend time with him.”

  Helena smiled. Let her think what she might. It was time for secrets to reveal themselves…time for lives to change. She was not about to sit back and allow her daughter to suffer anymore.

  CHAPTER 24

  The residential school of Berse Drelincourt, near Wrexham in Wales, was located on the grounds of an imposing Georgian manse belonging to Anne Drelincourt, widow of the 3rd Viscount Primrose. An orphanage for girls, the school was a quiet, protected place, and visitors had always been discouraged from calling. Captain Turner did not expect to be treated any differently. Still, he had official business, and he knew she would agree to see him.

  He would not be going in unprepared, either. A fortuitous stop for dinner at a ta in the nearby town of Broughton had given Captain Turner a surprising amount of information. Over the years, the old innkeeper, a former foot soldier in Marlborough’s own Welsh Regiment, had heard many rumors about the older woman. One was that Lady Primrose had been actively involved with the Jacobite cause during the 1745 Rising, and that she befriended Flora MacDonald, the Highland woman who had aided Bonnie Prince Charlie in his flight from Scotland after his bloody defeat at Culloden.

  Somewhat surprisingly, this matched what Admiral Middleton had told him, as well as additional information he himself had obtained when the Beaver had put in to Bristol. Indeed, following Flora’s imprisonment in England, Turner learned, it had been Lady Primrose who had secured her release and aided her financially.

  There were other rumors of Lady Primrose, too. Lowering his voice, the innkeeper told him that it was said that she regularly corresponded with the exiled Young Pretender himself, arranging secret visits to England and Scotland. Her ladyship was “high and mighty,” though, and “had friends close to King George, himself.”

  After learning all he could about the elusive woman, Turner had ridden into the village of Wrexham itself and spent two days drinking with the locals and bribing whoever he thought might provide more incriminating information.

  The footmen and the grooms who met him when he rode up to the front door of the stately house had eyed him with suspicion. The steward, however, carried his note in while Turner stood waiting in the foyer under the watchful eyes of two burly doormen.

  Lady Primrose received him with polite greetings in her elegant sitting room. He wasn’t fooled, however, for there was no welcome in her expression. She was somewhat younger looking than he expected, with a practiced air of indifference.

  “Your note says you have very recently arrived from the colonies on the HMS Beaver. If what I have just read in the Gazette is true, you must be connected then to the investigation following the burning of that ship. What was its name? The one that was destroyed by those American colonists?”

  “The Gaspee. Indeed, milady, I am connected with that,” Turner lied, satisfied with the momentary look of interest that flickered across the woman’s face. “The reason that I have come all the way here, however, has to do with another, more personal matter that involves my commanding officer, Admiral Middleton.”

  She appeared to consider the name for a few moments, but then she shook her head. “I don’t believe I am acquainted with the gentleman.”

  “But you might be acquainted with his daughter, Helena Middleton.”

  She considered this name for a few seconds longer, Turner thought, but the end result was the same. “I do not believe I
have ever had the pleasure.”

  “Perhaps Portia Edwards, then?” The words cut through the air with more hostility than he’d intended. The old woman’s eyes told him that she’d noticed it, too. Immediately, he tried to recover himself. “You surely must know Miss Edwards. She was a student in your school a few years back.”

  “How could one ever forget Portia?” Lady Primrose sat straight in her chair, her hands demurely in her lap, her hair perfectly styled and powdered. “But it has been too long since I have seen that lovely young woman. So what is your connection with our Portia, Captain?” p>

  He had no intention of being the receiver of questions. “Miss Edwards was a member of Admiral Middleton’s household.”

  “A servant?” The woman immediately bristled. “That cannot be.”

  “A companion,” he continued. “The young woman read French poetry to Helena Middleton before her disappearance. And that is why I am here, Lady Primrose. I believe…Admiral Middleton believes that Miss Edwards may have been coming here.”

  “Oh, that is so exciting. Very delightful news, indeed,” she said jovially, reaching for the bell on the table beside her and ringing it. “We shall prepare her old room. Do you know when she is arriving?”

  “She left Boston before I did. She should already be here.”

  “But she is not. Oh, my, that is bad news.” She rang the bell again just as a servant appeared. “Tell me all you know, Captain Turner. She came on what ship? What day? What port? I shall send someone after her at once.”

  Turner felt his temper about to boil over. He was no puppet to dance to this old traitor’s tune. “Lady Primrose, are you certain that Miss Edwards has not yet arrived, perhaps with a companion?”

  “A companion?” She waved at the servant who was waiting obediently by the open door. “Two rooms. Have two rooms prepared for Miss Edwards and a friend.” She turned again to Turner when the servant went out. “When, Captain? Please do not keep us in such suspense. You must have more information that you are not revealing to me now.”