Gregory had written Baron St. John to tell him he could not promise safety for his daughter and offered to return the sum he'd been paid for her voyage. When there had been no response, Gregory had decided to meet the coach when it arrived with Arabella.
But when it had come, he hadn't been fast enough. The baron had put his daughter and her trunks out of the coach and pulled quickly away, before Gregory had even seen him.
He frowned. Not only was he responsible for the safety of his men, he was responsible for the safety of the two—possibly three—females who would be traveling with them. Women were trouble. Every seaman knew that. And so did every captain.
Miss St. John turned away, after glancing up at him irritably, and he saw the long golden hair that curled down her back, almost to her waist. Her tiny waist was enticing.
What the bloody hell, he cursed himself. Hadn't her father written she was to be married after her arrival in New Orleans? He had no business even thinking about her. Perhaps he'd been at sea too long.
Still, she would be trouble. Even if she was a perfect passenger, the crew on the ship would immediately develop an attraction for her, and they'd be distracted. He'd have to keep a firm eye on her.
"I can tell exactly what you're thinking, Captain." Earl, his chief-mate, approached once again.
The captain raised a brow. "Can you? And that is?"
Earl grinned. "You're thinking that females aboard a ship are nothing but problems."
"Big problems," the captain muttered.
"But you must admit, she's exquisite." A chuckle answered him.
Gregory sighed. "Go down and get her, Earl. She should never have been left standing on the dock alone. Have you seen Cooper?"
"He's down below, watching where the food stores are going." Earl turned to follow orders. At the same time, a coach pulled up to unload, and a white gloved hand extended from the inside, followed by a woman with long curly red hair escaping from under her bonnet. Unlike the other young lady, this one glanced around, tossing her hair back in a display of pique. She immediately called out to the ship for someone to help her aboard.
"Good God." The captain felt a forbidding mask fall over his face. "That's all we need."
The commander laughed and moved quickly down the gangplank to carry out orders, as Gregory looked on. The man he referred to as "Earl" was, in reality, Viscount Darby, the son of the Earl of Darbyshire. Aging, he wanted his son to take over for him. But Earl, the independent and head-strong son, had other ideas. He loved the sea, and loved the idea of someday having his own ship. It was in his blood. Although he knew he would become the future Earl someday, he had determined—at least for now—to follow his dream.
Earl's rank in England outmatched that of Gregory's, but he'd eagerly taken second place to the rank of the captain on the ship, to continue learning as much as he could about being in command of his own.
The captain studied, for the fifteenth time, the list of provisions he'd ordered for his crew of sixty men. Forty-eight barrels of beef 'with no unusual parts'. He had seen to that. Forty-six barrels of pork, fifty barrels of flour, five-hundred pounds of butter, fifteen hundred gallons of whiskey, twice as many of beer and water, one thousand pounds of cheese, and so on.
He'd had extra provisions bought for this trip, since they had to go all the way to New Orleans, and he had no wish to have to try to restock on the coast of Charleston. Of course, most of the coffee they were transporting was not for their consumption. It would be picked up when they arrived. This promised to be profitable, if all went according to plan.
The seamen on his ships ate well; he saw to that. They worked hard, and good food was one of the few things they had to look forward to. He paid them well, and they generally did their best for him. At the same time, he demanded much of them.
His chief-mate was guiding Miss St. John upward now, toward him, and he straightened his shoulders, looking down at her with an intimidating stare. Miller had brought the redhead up, as well, and she was standing close by, fidgeting with impatience, her eyes narrowed. She cleared her throat.
He turned to her. "Excuse me, miss?"
"I wish to know where my cabin is."
He frowned. "I have no desire to repeat myself. I'm waiting until the other young lady is present."
Her brow creased, but she said nothing.
The first mate approached. "Captain, Miss Arabella St. John," he said. Then, turning toward the other young woman, he nodded. "My apologies, miss. Your name escapes me."
Her voice was curt. "Miss Lily Collingwood."
"Ladies." Captain Smythe bowed stiffly, tipping his hat. "At the risk of making myself quite unpopular with both of you, I wish to inform you that the Charlotte is a ship we take great pride in. She runs smoothly. She runs efficiently. My men are capable." He paused, glancing from one to the other.
"I trust there is no need to say this. But I shall say it, and only once. My men are not allowed to fraternize with female passengers." His frown deepened. "To put it quite clearly, private conversations of a personal matter with the men of this vessel will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?"
A smile played about the mouth of Miss Collingwood. But Arabella stepped forward. Visible tension showing in her shoulders, it appeared as though she was fighting to keep from slapping his face.
"Do you think us common, Captain Smythe?" She clenched her small gloved hands into fists at her sides. "How dare you!"
He took a step toward her. She took a step back. "Miss St. John," he said, in a deep voice. "I'm not suggesting anything of the sort. I say this to all the female passengers who board my ship."
She lifted her chin defiantly. "And how often do you have female passengers travel with you, sir?"
He leaned forward, until his face was extremely close to hers. The scent of honeysuckle reached him, and he fought against its enticing allure. Trying to fortify his resolve, he deliberately intensified his stern gaze downward.
"Never," he said gruffly. Straightening up, he turned toward Earl. "Commander," he said stiffly, still staring down into Arabella's eyes. "Please show the ladies to their cabins."
Chapter 2
Exploring
The slight movement of the ship as it set course for the New World felt strange to Arabella as Earl ushered her to the small cabin. She stared at the meager but masculine contents, a bed and wardrobe. There was nothing fancy about it, and with no maid to take care of her needs, Bella started unpacking her own things. For better or worse, this would be her home for a good deal of time.
Most of her personal belongings only took minutes to put away. A sudden rocking of the ship made her decide to put the items from her toilette into a cabinet drawer and fold up her garments next to them. While some of her personal effects were, no doubt, stored somewhere below in the bowels of the great ship, Bella felt as if everything of real value was left behind. Would she ever see her mother or father again? Would her new husband follow through on his promise to have them come for a visit? Might he let her return to England once, if only for a short visit? She hoped so.
Bella sighed and sat down on the bed. Feeling sorry for herself, she decided, would not help her situation one bit. Instead of worrying about what she left behind, perhaps she could go exploring. Not many young ladies got a chance to cross the vast ocean aboard a lovely ship as this. If Captain Smythe was to be believed, none. His stern face popped into her mind's eye, his disapproving gaze spying on her as she stood on the dock. Did he ever smile? Rarely, if at all, she decided. It was best to avoid him until they were far from home port. The frustrating captain might decide to return to shore and dump her off if she dared to converse with one of his precious men. Then what would Papa say?
Bella managed to find her way back on deck. The sea air was blissful to inhale. It was clean and salty, with a slight hint of iodine, but she loved it. It was full of promise and hope. The deck was slippery so she moved slowly toward the edge.
She watched sadly as the shore became
further and further away, as did her past life. Her mother had wanted to see her off, but Papa had insisted she remain home. Was it because he feared embarrassment to the family name if others witnessed the tearful goodbyes mother and child might shed? Or was it that he feared Arabella would change her mind and refuse to leave? She might have, if he hadn't abandoned her on the dock so quickly. She'd assumed he would stay to see her aboard, but he'd merely mentioned her maid should be arriving soon to help her settle in. With the briefest of kisses to her cheek, he left her to face her fate alone. Despite her best efforts, Bella could not help but feel suddenly lonely and forlorn. Tears might have spilled over her pale cheeks had she not heard a voice from her left. She turned to see the young woman who had introduced herself as Miss Collingwood standing next to her.
"It is so exciting, is it not?" Miss Collingwood exclaimed, leaning her elbows on the top railing and staring back at the disappearing shoreline. "Few people get a chance to start over, leaving unhappy times behind, knowing things are finally starting to go their way, for a change."
Her bright smile was encouraging, and Bella tried to grin back.
"Do you feel out of place here, on this big ship, knowing we are the only women aboard? I am Arabella, by the way."
"Lily," the other woman let out a sigh of contentment. "We will be in New Orleans before you know it. My future husband awaits my arrival. We met not long ago, and it was love at first sight. He's a wealthy land-owner there."
Bella started to explain about her own fiancée., but felt too ashamed to continue. While Lily was sailing to a future with the man she loved, Bella was facing life with a virtual stranger. Her future husband had made a business deal with her family, and she was merely part of the terms. Lily might consider it a chance to leave unhappy times behind, but Arabella had no desire to start over. Everything she loved was behind her, in England, and disappearing fast.
Lily started sharing more details about meeting the man of her dreams, but Bella was only half-listening. What happened to her lady's maid? Did the poor child arrive shortly after the ship set sail? Bella hoped her family had not dumped her off as abruptly as her own father had. She feared for the nameless, faceless girl left on the dock, with perhaps no place to go or no money to help her secure lodgings or food.
Lily stopped speaking and huffed away, suddenly, just as Arabella turned to speak. Bella hoped Lily hadn't thought she was being ignored. Her face fell, wondering if she hadn't appeared rude.
"I'm sorry, Lily—" she called out.
Abruptly, Lily turned back. "Perhaps you think you're better than I, because I haven't a title? Well, let me tell you, I have no need for one. My fiancée is wealthy enough to ensure I am treated properly!"
By the time Bella opened her mouth to speak again, Lily was gone. She groaned inwardly. She certainly hadn't intended to make an enemy of the only other female aboard ship at the very beginning of the journey.
The wind tousled her long, blonde hair about as she heard the slaps of the water on the ship's hull. She heard distant footfalls and looked up to see the man the captain called Earl coming toward her, looking somewhat annoyed.
"Excuse me for interrupting you, miss, but the captain asked me to convey his desire for you to join him at dinner tonight. I have already spoken to Miss Collingwood, and she seemed quite pleased at the opportunity. He expects you in the dining area promptly at the second dog watch signal." He seemed to relax as Bella smiled at him, as if he thought it would be much easier conveying messages to her than Miss Collingwood.
"Second dog watch?" Bella's sea-green eyes lifted slightly. "Where do the dogs come from, sir?"
Earl gave her a full smile. "Actually, livestock have not fared well aboard the ship in the past, except for Cooper, who is certainly not a dog. I expect you will meet him soon. He prevents rodents from making away with our food. But we do have barrels of salt pork and beef aboard to provide food for the men. The captain holds high expectations of the men serving under him. In exchange, he provides generous pay, fair treatment and proper nourishment."
It was apparent Earl respected his superior, and Bella tried to soften her stance on the unyielding man he served. "Then, what is the dogs' watch?"
"The Charlotte is manned by sailors, day and night, miss. A signal marks the change of the men working. First dog watch begins at sixteen hundred hours. The second, at eighteen hundred." He paused. "I'm sorry. I forget some people don't use our seamen's codes. Six o'clock, miss, the captain expects you at his table."
"I take it one does not dare to alter your captain's expectations," she confided, and the commander let out a booming, rich chuckle. She grinned at him, tilting her head sideways. "I see. Thank you for the warning, dear Mr. Earl. I shall take care not to upset your overly-scheduled captain."
"It would be the prudent course of action, miss. One more thing. On land, others refer to me as 'Darby'. But, on ship, they call me the 'commander'. Only the captain refers to me as Earl. It's a sort of nickname he gave me. We grew up together, you see. He likes to remind me of my future because he knows it irks me."
Bella stared at him. "Do you mean to say he openly ridicules you? What a horrible thing to do!" Her heart hardened even more to the handsome man at the helm of the ship. Captain Smythe was a great big bully.
Another chuckle escaped Earl's lips. "Believe it or not, miss, his nickname is meant to remind me of my destiny. Trust me, when I tell you there is no better man than Gregory Smythe to have as a friend." He was grinning. "And no worse an enemy to have, for that matter. Though I should remind you, he does have a temper. And he tends to let go of it, once in a while. Just a warning."
"Then I shall do my best to stay on his friendly side, lest I end up with an embarrassing nickname. Tell me, sir," Bella felt strange not adding a title to his name, but followed his instructions to drop it. "Do you think your captain will take issue with me exploring the ship?"
His brow furrowed. "Take issue? Absolutely. If you do, it'll be at your own peril." His eyes, however, held amusement.
Too bad this man was not in charge of their journey, Bella thought. She doubted the captain ever laughed. "But as long as he doesn't see me, I can explore, then?" She smiled at him.
"I'm warning you. The captain might have you hung if he catches you down below, miss."
"Thank you for the advice. I shall do my best to stay out of his sight, then. Will you be joining us at the captain's table?"
He cocked his head to one side. "I generally try to take my meal at a different time than the captain, but for this voyage…" He tilted his head down at her in amusement. "I think it might be quite entertaining to do just that." Bowing slightly as a show of respect, he turned to walk away, his laughter trailing behind him.
Arabella walked back to the doorway into her living quarters. Once inside, she sneaked a peek behind her to make sure the commander was no longer in sight, and the uptight captain was not afoot. The coast was clear. The crew appeared busy.
She set out to explore. A steep ladder with banisters on each side led down to the level below. It was surprisingly light in this part of the ship, thanks to the row of small portholes. Large rooms lined the area, all open and waiting to be investigated.
Many of them were packed with supplies. Row after row of sacks of flour and oats, along with barrels of lard, occupied one entire room. There were crates of fruit and dried vegetables stored here, too. The meal would not be served for another hour, so Bella reached over to select an apple from a crate nearby that had a hole in it. Rubbing it with the sleeve of her gown, she cleaned it before taking a bite of the juicy offering.
Nibbling, she wandered around, room by room, trying to take her mind off her worries. It was nice to forget them, if only for a moment. Gone were her concerns about marrying a complete stranger, starting life in a new land, and trying to convince herself her lady's maid had not suffered some horrible fate.
Unfortunately, Bella not only lost her worries, she lost her way. Between wanderi
ng aimlessly and daydreaming, she had forgotten which direction she came from. Earl had told her how to find the dining area when he showed her where her quarters were, but she doubted she would even be able to find her room right now, much less a part of the ship she had never seen.
An image of the daunting captain appeared in her mind. What time was it? He would be quite put out if she did not show up at eighteen-hundred hours. "He runs a tight ship," the commander had warned her.
The creaking from the wooden floor startled her. She turned toward it, terrified Captain Smythe would be there, his arms crossed over his broad chest. But when she forced herself to look behind her, the shadow, which disappeared into one of the rooms of food, was too small to be her imposing sailor. Perhaps, she decided, it was a rodent, but if so, it was an awfully big one. She'd heard rats could get quite large on ships.
The thought of being down below with large rats upset her more than the possibility of facing the stern captain. She started rushing in the opposite direction, frantically searching for a way back to the top deck. Worried that rats might be following her, she kept glancing behind her with frightened eyes to check.
She had no idea how far she'd gone, when she heard it. A deep, gruff voice from behind her caused her to jump, and she gasped sharply. The captain's voice! Suddenly, Bella realized she had backed into a large room. She closed her eyes in dread.
She was trapped between the rat and the beast.
Whirling around, she found herself in a room full of seamen. They were seated at long tables. The room was deathly quiet. Worse yet, everyone was staring at her. Her arrival seemed to have startled all of them. Each of them had an empty plate before him. They had been waiting on her? White faced and wide eyed, she stared around the room and wondered if she needed to explain her late arrival.
From the head of the longest table, Captain Smythe stood, slowly. As if taking their cue from him, all the other men present rose quickly to their feet.
"Miss St. John, please come and sit at my left."
Conquered by the Captain (The Conquered Book 1) Page 2