Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  “Iron Lady?” Ella questioned, liking the name.

  “The ship’s project name,” Jim explained.

  “But they had questions?” Annabelle prompted so her husband would continue.

  “I think it was more a fascination with the design by the admirals and, of course, Lord Uxbridge, is a cautious man. I started to count how many questions he put to Jim, but lost track sometime in the afternoon. I think he was trying to trip you up on a detail,” Edmund said to Jim. “It didn’t work. There wasn’t a design element that Jim hadn’t thought through. I don’t know how you make such precise calculations, but your knowledge impressed everyone.”

  It was Ella’s turn to squeeze Jim’s hand as Edmund praised him. “So what does phase one mean?”

  “Phase one is a fully functional prototype,” Jim answered. “She’ll be a quarter size of the actual ship. We’ll be able to see any potential flaws or problems as we construct and sail her.”

  “To be completed by mid-December,” Edmund added.

  “Is that enough time?” Richard asked, speaking for the first time although he’d been keenly listening throughout the conversation.

  “No,” Jim admitted, “but we’ll make it work. I’ll leave for Bristol in the morning. All the design work is done, but to manufacture everything and deal with any discrepancies, the time is tight. As long as I haven’t made an error…”

  “You haven’t.” Edmund’s tone was the first serious one he’d used since returning. “It’s perfect and the ship will be perfect. You’re just going to have to make a Herculean effort to get it built.”

  Hercules, an apt comparison for Jim. The broad shoulders, superior height, strong jaw—all physical features she associated with the mythological demi-god. Jim’s mental attributes worked as well, intelligence, keenness, determination. Didn’t Hercules protect others by fending off monsters? Jim could do that.

  “You’re smiling,” Jim said in a low voice while the others spoke of something else. His thumb caressed the back of her hand. The warm friction of his work-roughened fingers created heat throughout her body.

  “I’m imagining you slaying monsters like Hercules did.”

  “It won’t be monsters. It’ll be sheet metal, propulsions systems, and rigging.”

  “You’ll win just the same.”

  “I plan to. Ella, I have—”

  “Lord Spencer for Lady Ella, sir,” Sanders announced from the doorway.

  Cool air flowed around her hand when Jim abruptly removed his. He averted his face from her and rose.

  “I told that idiot in the evening,” Richard said, his tongue loosened by the champagne. “When does he think civilized people eat dinner?”

  “Get rid of him while Jim and I change for dinner. I don’t want him in my house.” Edmund told Richard. “You know why.” A significant look passed between the three men. So she had been let in on some secrets, but not all of them. Something was still going on. She shot a glance at Annabelle whose face was as perplexed as she felt.

  “Indeed. I’ll let him speak with Ella for a moment, then he’s gone.”

  “Good.” Edmund and Jim left the room as Lord Spencer entered from the foyer.

  The atmosphere in the room shifted suddenly from warm to frigid. Her brother and sister stood a little stiffly to greet Lord Spencer, who wasted no time in coming to Ella. He kissed her hand before she thought to object.

  “May I have a moment alone with Lady Ella?” Lord Spencer asked after a stilted exchange of pleasantries. “I have a question for her.”

  Ella hoped her brother would refuse to allow it, but she was disappointed when he said, “You may have five minutes. No more.” Taking Annabelle’s arm, her siblings abandoned her to the machinations of Lord Spencer. A quick wink from Annabelle reassured her. They wouldn’t be far from the door.

  Lord Spencer dropped to one knee as soon as the others were gone. “I haven’t much time, my love—”

  “No,” she said firmly.

  “But I haven’t said what I must say. I cannot deny my heart another moment. I wish to ask, no, beg you to be my bride.” He almost controlled his tone, but the mocking insincerity came through.

  “Lord Spencer, thank you for the offer, but I am not inclined—”

  He rose, attempting to loom over her, but she was nearly as tall as he. The action didn’t have the effect he wanted. “Before you say more, consider that I already have your brother’s approval.”

  “You do not have my brother’s approval more than any other man,” she clarified. Richard may be a beast of an older brother at times, but he wasn’t a liar. He assured her that he had not granted anything to Lord Spencer. “You simply have leave to speak with me and I must decline your offer.”

  “You don’t wish to disappoint your family by pursuing a man not appropriate to your station in life.” He cupped her chin in what was supposed to be an intimate gesture, but his fingers dug into her skin. “I beseech you to reconsider before you make an irrevocable error.” His low, threatening tone shouted to her that she had not misjudged this man. The handsome face was just a façade hiding an ugly core of evilness.

  “My error would be in connecting myself to you.”

  “I shall give you one more opportunity.” The pressure of his fingers on her face increased. “I offer you my title and position in society. I would hate to see you associated with someone unworthy, someone beneath you.”

  “As would I. So I must reject your offer as I would never be sure if you were married to me or my fortune.” She refused to retreat even an inch during the altercation. Still face to face, she waited for him to back off or move to strike her. Neither response would have surprised her.

  Richard’s voice in the foyer made Lord Spencer tense. Suddenly releasing her, he gave her a shove back. If Richard hadn’t been opening the door, Spencer might have done far worse. He was capable of violence. She knew that now as she quickly regained her footing. The incident at the Roman Ruins came back to her. He’d pulled a gun on Jim and her with no provocation. What was this man capable of? What had he already done? What was his connection to Jim’s past?

  She wanted Lord Spencer gone forever from her life and, for once, she was grateful for Richard’s overprotective tendencies and his astute mind. Her brother gauged the situation, staring down Lord Spencer’s imperious and disdainful expression.

  “You may leave now, Spencer.” The words seemed like an invitation, but Richard’s tone said never return. “Thank you for your kind wishes for my sister’s birthday.” Richard’s fists flexed open and closed as Lord Spencer made his exit with all the drama of a prima donna performing a death scene. He huffed and raised his finger in Richard’s face, but a scowl from her brother had him retreating for the door where a footman waited.

  When the front door closed, Richard pointed her back into the privacy of the drawing room, his expression grim. He put a finger under her chin, tilting it up. Marks left from Lord Spencer’s fingers had to be visible she decided when Richard winced and pulled her close to hug her.

  “Did he hurt you in any other way?”

  “No, I thought he might, but you came in at the right moment.” Her knees shook a little now that the incident was over. She hadn’t been afraid during it, but now she considered what he might have done.

  “I’m sorry. If I thought him capable of that, I would never have let him alone with you. It is my error of judgment in trusting the man.” Her brother rarely admitted a weakness. “I shall make sure his character is known to others, but answer me one question.” He released her enough to see her face. “Was your meeting yesterday arranged? Was it an assignation?”

  “No, he came upon me as I was returning home. What makes you ask that?”

  “Spencer claimed you met him intentionally. It’s what he said to Ferguson right before Jim tossed him out the door.”

  “Jim thinks I met Lord Spencer by arrangement?” Her brother’s suspicions were bad enough, but Jim too?

 
“I will make sure the events are clear to everyone involved.” Richard watched her face closely for what she couldn’t say.

  “Why would Lord Spencer lie like that? What sort of man does that?”

  “One who will never again be in the same house as you.” Richard rested his hands on her shoulder. “Now, go up to your room and wait there until these marks fade. I’ll send Annabelle to you. Have her help you with some powder or whatever women do to hide things.”

  ****

  His gift for Ella weighed heavy in Jim’s pocket as he, Edmund, and Richard smoked cigars after dinner. He wanted a moment alone with her to give his present, but the other men acted like dogs establishing territory around Ella so his chances were slim.

  Something had happened. No mention of Spencer’s visit was made during dinner. Ella acted as though everything were fine. She played the role of the birthday girl and turned the conversation to him and the ship as often as she could, but her usual zest for life was dimmed— not gone—but not the vibrant pulse to which he’d become accustomed.

  That’s what he would miss, he admitted to himself. Her liveliness, which bordered on capriciousness; her attention, though he didn’t seek it; her beauty, always catching him by surprise. He’d be too busy over the coming months to even think of her.

  And the prospect of building The Iron Lady thrilled the engineer in him. It was what he wanted and needed in life. Build the ship, build his future, but it would be a future without Ella. No amount of wishing could change that.

  She’d likely return to the country for the fall. He’d be working eighteen-hour days in Bristol. No chance, no opportunity. He should be pleased, for he’d finally succeeded in distancing himself from her. All he felt, however, was an emptiness he didn’t know could be inside him.

  When he returned to the conversation, Edmund and Richard were discussing a pending land transfer between them as their country estates bordered each other’s.

  “You can sign the papers now,” Edmund said, snuffing out his cigar. “They’re in my study.”

  “Might as well finish it.” Richard got to his feet, his chair scraping against the wood floor. “Although I think you’re getting a ridiculously good deal. And I’d resent it if you weren’t Annabelle’s husband.”

  “You can still hunt in those woods whenever you choose.”

  “I hate hunting,” Richard declared, “but I appreciate the offer.”

  Left alone, Jim wandered to the dining room doors that led to the courtyard garden. He considered going to his chamber. He needed to pack and be on the earliest train to Bristol. A list of tasks already ticked through his head. He must check on his sister first. No matter how busy he was Belinda was a priority. Then he had to acquire more manufacturing space, hire men, and purchase raw materials before he could do anything else.

  “I left it in the dining room. Just a moment,” Ella called to her sister. Seeing the open door, she entered and searched around her chair. “There it is,” she murmured, snapping the retrieved fan open.

  He took a step toward her, unsure of his intentions, but unable not to gravitate in her direction.

  “Oh,” she smiled, her eyes opening wide in surprise, “I didn’t see you there.” His black clothes must have blended with the dark windows. “I was looking for my new fan. I hate to lose a gift on my birthday. It looks irresponsible.”

  This was his chance. “I have a gift for you as well.”

  “You do?” The candlelight softened her face, but her eyes brightened with pleasure. “I mean, I didn’t expect one.” She came to him by the window. In the garden, moonlight created patches of light and shadow.

  “Birthday’s have to be celebrated. My mum’s rule.” No matter the circumstances, his mother made sure he and Belinda had at least one gift and a special treat on their birthdays. When he turned ten, he and his father went to an exhibit of modern machinery. He always thought of it as the day he knew his future. He had the same sensation looking at Ella tonight. She was a part of his future, but a part he’d have to deny.

  He reached in his pocket for the small pouch, containing a lady’s pocket watch. He’d made Edmund stop at a jeweler’s shop on the way back from the meeting today. Although Edmund ribbed him about his feelings for Ella, he’d shrugged it off. A gift was a necessity tonight.

  Dropping the white pouch into her hand, he waited for her to open it. Her nimble fingers untied the ribbon and the small, gold watch slid onto her open palm. The case was embossed with a pattern like a rose unfurling. It was what had attracted him to the watch. Even now, her rosy scent surrounded him, draining him of the resistance he so desperately needed.

  “Lovely,” she said, her head bent forward nearly touching his shoulder. “Roses are my favorite, but you knew that.” She flicked the catch, popping the watch open. The face had a pink rose meticulously painted in the center. “Even better.”

  With a simple tilt of her head, her lips came just under his. She stilled. Beautiful, whimsical Ella was within the circle of his arms for possibly the last time. The watch in her hand ticked away the seconds.

  He groaned when she stroked her hand down his cheek, and suddenly he didn’t give a damn about anything but her. His lips found hers and the world disappeared. She tasted soft and sweet like the little cakes they’d had for dessert. Mixed with the sweet was an element of fire his body responded to. She stroked her tongue across his, nipped and played at the corners of his mouth until he took control of the kiss, dominating and arousing.

  She drew in a sharp breath when he kissed her jaw. The sound jolted him back for a second. He blinked, focusing hard on her face. A blue-black mark faint, but there, showed on her skin. Examining that mark he saw two more, the size of fingertips.

  “Who did this?”

  “It’s nothing. I want you to kiss me again.” She clutched his lapels, drawing him closer.

  “He put his hands on you.” The he needed no explanation. When Spencer crossed his path again, he’d pay for each of those marks.

  “You could make me yours. Protect me from men like that.”

  “You know I can’t,” he said, although every instinct in him wanted to cherish and protect her forever.

  “Do you want to?”

  In his head, he screamed yes, but he couldn’t say it. His face gave her the answer his mouth wouldn’t.

  “Then you won’t.” Her flat tone did nothing to hide her disappointment. “You won’t choose me.”

  “I can’t take you from your life.” Everything around them represented her world, the expensive possessions, social position, elegant homes. “And I’ve made mistakes. I don’t want you to suffer for my errors.”

  “Why won’t you let me decide about my life?” She thumped her hand against his chest to emphasize her words. “You think I’m silly and young and don’t know what I want.”

  “I know what I have. I know what my life is like,” he said, feeling a sense of loss more poignantly than ever. “And it’s not enough for you.”

  Stepping back with his gift clutched in her hand, she regarded him closely for a moment. He wanted her to speak, but nothing could be said between them to change who they were. She snapped the watch shut, the time running out on any chance of a life with Ella.

  Chapter Twelve

  November 12, 1858

  Everyone in the universe must be a productive soul but me. Annabelle’s letters are full of news about her shops. Edmund’s busy with his family’s shipping business and the steam works. I hear nothing of, or from, Jim. I can only assume he’s up to his muscular shoulders in work. Sophie is tucked away in some corner of Cornwall where her eldest sister lives and she’s selling her paintings. Selling them! Richard has his estates to manage and Mary is having a baby soon. How much more productive can a woman be?

  My mother tries to keep me busy with her correspondence and little tasks. Nevertheless, I’m driving everyone, including myself, to Bedlam. Six weeks in the country when the weather has not been fine is too much. S
omething must happen or I shall take up knitting or tatting or one of those domestic arts young ladies are supposed to be good at.

  ****

  November 15, 1858

  Salvation. A letter arrived this morning from Aunt Louise in Bath offering to put up with me for a visit. I thought Richard might refuse to let me go, but he was surprisingly open to the suggestion. Again, I’m suspicious of his motives. Does he just want to get me out of his house or is he flinging me out in the world in the hope I’ll make an alliance? With Jim? Jim is just a few miles down the road in Bristol building his ship. Although after his rejection (I can admit after two months that it was a type of rejection, but for noble reasons), he may refuse to see me.

  I shall pack tonight and leave in the morning on the early train. The sooner I arrive in Bath, the sooner I’ll know Jim’s feelings.

  Ella told herself that her visit to Lady Annabelle’s Finery of Bath on the first morning of her visit was an obligation. She should check on her sister’s business and inquire after Belinda’s health. Of course, decency required she get up early, nervously pace her room for an hour prior to breakfast, and be on the street before the clock struck nine.

  The creamy brick building with large leaded glass windows was located in one of the busiest sections of Milsom Street. Someone had created beautiful displays, one with a ball gown of ice blue and another with a variety of hats and accessories. Belinda waved to her through the glass as she tucked and pinned a white velvet cape on a mannequin to show it off for passersby.

  If Belinda weren’t one of the sweetest, most caring women of her acquaintance, Ella would have despised her on appearance alone. With her blond hair, large blue eyes, and a figure that managed to be petite and buxom simultaneously, she was the epitome of feminine beauty.

  Ella’s brother Heath loved fine things before his death and Belinda was one of those fine things. If he’d lived, Belinda would likely be her sister-in-law now. Belinda’s connection to Heath partially motivated Annabelle to hire her, but if the shop’s appearance and the sales figures Ella saw while working in London were any indication, Belinda earned her position.