Regency Admirer/The Merry Gentleman/The Gentleman's Demand

by Meg Alexander

  “To make her own way back to Genoa? It can’t be done.”

  “Someone might take her in...the Governor, for example.”

  “Not without a lot of explanations, which would be certain to reach the captain’s ears. Besides, you’ve met her. As soon as she wakes up she’ll start to scream and yell and make a fuss. Every man aboard will hear her.”

  “Not if you keep her quiet...”

  “And how do you suggest that I do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Chris strolled over to look at their unwelcome guest. “Strange that she’s still asleep...”

  “She must be drugged, you idiot! For heaven’s sake, don’t try to rouse her. I can’t cope with hysterics. Oh, God! What a mess! I can’t think of a way out of it. There’s nothing for it but to tell the captain.”

  “No, Perry, stop and think! If he won’t believe your story, it could be the end of your career. You don’t wish to be drummed out in disgrace, do you? It wouldn’t be so difficult to hide her.”

  “With the cabin boy coming in and out? Do you imagine that he’d overlook her?”

  “You could lock your door...”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Valuables, old chap. In Genoa you bought gold trinkets for your family, and you don’t wish to put temptation in the way of the men.”

  Perry gave him a sour look. “Any more ideas? Where am I to sleep, for example?”

  “We do watch and watch about. You could use my cabin.”

  For the first time, Perry was tempted. Perhaps he could force himself to face the wrath of Captain Robsart, but all his hopes of preferment would be lost. It might be better to conceal Elizabeth’s presence on the Artemis. Even if she were to be discovered later, he would be no worse off.

  Sunk in gloom, he nodded his assent. “We could try it,” he said slowly. “I can’t think of an alternative. Damn the woman! I could wish her far enough—”

  As if she had heard him, Elizabeth began to stir. Perry was on his feet at once.

  “Give me a hand,” he said briefly. “Let’s take this mesh away. She’s still drowsy, but if she tries to scream I want to be able to stop her.”

  As they disengaged the makeshift protective cage, Elizabeth’s eyes opened. She stared up at them in disbelief, and a cry issued from her lips.

  Perry clapped a hand across her mouth. “Stop that!” he ordered. “You must be quiet. We’ll help you to your feet, and then I’ll explain.”

  He reached down, took her in his arms, and carried her over to the single chair.

  Elizabeth struggled to stand, but her legs would not support her.

  “Ma’am, you are still cramped,” Chris told her kindly. “Will you not sit down until you feel more yourself?”

  In silence, Perry poured a glass of water and held it to her lips. She took a sip and choked a little, but the drink restored her senses.

  “What is this place?” She was obviously bewildered. “Why am I here?”

  “Miss Grantham, if you are patient, Perry will explain.” Chris looked at his friend.

  “Oh!” she cried. “You have kidnapped me, you villain!”

  Perry responded stiffly. “I assure you, madam, nothing could be further from the truth. Your presence here is a severe embarrassment, but this is your father’s doing.”

  “I don’t believe you!” She almost spat the words at him. “How dare you make such an accusation?”

  “Unfortunately, it is true, Miss Grantham.” Chris spoke in soothing tones. “He approached the bosun to have you brought aboard.”

  “Aboard?” Elizabeth looked shaken. “You mean that I am on your ship?”

  Perry bowed. “And on your way to Gibraltar, ma’am.”

  “But I don’t wish to go there,” she cried fiercely. “Kindly put me ashore at once. I won’t stay here.”

  “You have no choice, Miss Grantham, unless you can walk on water. We sailed from Genoa some hours ago.” Perry did not trouble to hide his anger.

  “Then your captain must return there. This is some mistake. Kindly take me to him.”

  “Captain Robsart won’t change course, so you need not get upon your high ropes. Your father has placed me in a most unfortunate situation.”

  “Is that all that concerns you? I might have expected it. What of my situation? My father is sick. He must have been, to think of such a plan. That blow upon the head has sent his wits a-wandering. Oh, why did I not see it?” For a few seconds she looked distraught. Then her chin came up. “Where are you supposed to take me?”

  “To England, ma’am.”

  “To England?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “I won’t go there. Wait until Cesare hears of this. I am betrothed, you know—”

  “You are not betrothed,” Perry said firmly. “Your father made that clear to me. You do him an injustice. He is concerned only with your safety.”

  “He need not be.” She stopped, unwilling to criticise her beloved parent. “He imagines dangers which don’t exist,” she murmured as if to herself. “But I must go back.” She looked at Perry with a challenge in her eyes. “Is there no way?”

  “None, Miss Grantham.”

  She gave him a stormy look. “I don’t believe you. I will see your captain—”

  “No, you won’t. Just be quiet, will you?”

  Elizabeth stared at her companions. Then she understood. A smile of pure mischief curved her lips. “An unfortunate situation, I think you said? Confess it, gentlemen, you are at a stand. Shall you be cashiered if I am found here?” The thought appeared to give her immense satisfaction.

  “Of course not,” Perry told her sternly. “The bosun is our witness. He brought you aboard.”

  “With instructions to deliver me to your cabin? What will your captain say to that, I wonder? I understood from my father that he had refused me passage on the Artemis. Will he believe that you had no hand in this? I think not, especially if I convince him otherwise.”

  “Why, you little wretch!”

  Elizabeth smiled at him in triumph. Then she settled herself more comfortably in her chair and began to smooth her crumpled skirt.

  “I am still a little dizzy, sir. Perhaps my morning chocolate was drugged. I should welcome some refreshment...perhaps some fruit?”

  Chris tumbled over his own feet in his anxiety to obey her.

  “Thank you so much.” Elizabeth selected a peach. “Now, what is to be done, I wonder?”

  Perry eyed her askance. He was under no illusions. With her quick intelligence the girl had seen at once that she held them in her power. At a word from her they were more than likely to be put in irons. It was with a strong sense of foreboding that he awaited her next move.

  “Where is your next port of call?” she addressed herself to Chris.

  “Gibraltar, ma’am...but we can’t put you ashore there. You could not make your own way back to Genoa.”

  “It would be difficult,” she agreed meekly. “And in the meantime?”

  “Miss Grantham, if you would consent to stay here in Perry’s cabin?”

  “You mean to hide me? Will that not present you with some difficulty? How are you to feed me?”

  Perry scowled at her. A normal female would have fallen into strong hysterics at the suggestion. She had not asked the obvious question as to where he was to sleep. It had not occurred to her.

  Chris was ready with an explanation. “Perry and I share watch and watch about, ma’am. We shall use my cabin. As to food...I expect that we shall manage.”

  Elizabeth gave him her most enchanting smile. “I still believe that I should see your captain. You may be mistaken. If I explain the circumstances, he may return to Genoa.”

  “He won’t!” Perry told her roughly. “We are carrying urgent dispatches for the Admiralty in London, and time is of the essence.”

  “I understand,” she told him sweetly. “Then there is no more to be said. Pray do not worry about me, gentlemen. I shall be as quiet as a mouse. Now, if you will be goo
d enough to lock the door behind you...”

  It was a clear dismissal, and they had no option but to leave her.

  “I thought she took it all very well,” Chris murmured. “Poor creature! What a thing to happen to her! Perry, you are unfair to her. She was so reasonable.”

  “Too reasonable by half. She’s up to something. Didn’t you see that smug expression? She looks like a cat with the cream. She’ll make us jump, you mark my words.”

  “You don’t understand her,” Chris said with conviction. “Must you paint her so black? She’s a sweet little thing, and I feel sorry for her.”

  “Don’t waste your sympathy! Sweet? That isn’t a word I’d use to describe her. If I’m not mistaken, that fertile little brain is at this moment plotting mischief.”

  He was not far out in his reasoning. Elizabeth’s initial reaction of helpless fury and frustration had been followed by a strong determination to escape from the Artemis.

  She had, as yet, no idea how this might be accomplished, but it must take place at Gibraltar. Wentworth would not help her. He disliked her as heartily as she disapproved of him. Lord Christopher was her only hope. She had seen the admiration in his eyes. With a little encouragement he might be persuaded to fall in with her wishes.

  She would give much to outwit Wentworth. He was a detestable creature. It was strange that her father had taken such a liking to him. Now, she supposed, the first lieutenant of the Artemis might have the effrontery to feel responsible for her. She began to giggle, knowing how much he longed to box her ears. He longed to be rid of her, she knew that well enough, but if he could, he would thwart her plans.

  Meantime, she had no objection to making him squirm.

  Besides, this was an adventure, however much she might rail against the unceremonious way she had been taken from her home and brought aboard.

  In Genoa, she had longed for some excitement...some relief from the tedium of her daily life. Drawing and music lessons, and walks in the company of her governess, were no substitute for life in the great world.

  She was a woman grown, but her father could not see it. Then Cesare had begun to woo her. The fact that his suit was frowned on by her father only lent a certain spice to their secret meetings.

  She loved him dearly, and she was betrothed, in spite of Wentworth’s dismissive words. It was just that one could not think of Cesare all the time.

  At this moment, for example, it seemed more important to examine the contents of that curious box. She lifted out the folded silk, and found with satisfaction that some of the padding beneath her consisted of her warmest gowns and a woollen cloak.

  She did not recognise the leather valise, but when she opened it she found that it contained undergarments, her toothbrush and combs, and best of all, a heavy purse filled with golden coins. That, she tucked into the pocket of her skirt, determined not to mention it. Let Wentworth think her penniless. That way, he would believe her less likely to escape.

  For escape she would, but it would take careful planning. To travel through Spain and France was out of the question. She must take ship for Genoa. Some master of a merchant vessel would carry a passenger in exchange for gold.

  First, there would be the problem of leaving the Artemis unobserved. Elizabeth frowned. It would be difficult for a woman. Then she remembered an idle comment made by Cesare when the British vessels came into port. Had he not sneered about the drabs who were allowed aboard? In their midst she might escape detection.

  Meantime, she could do nothing until they reached Gibraltar. Perhaps an appeal to Captain Robsart? She dismissed the idea at once. From what she had heard, he would probably lose no time in placing her under the supervision of some British official, and that would delay her escape.

  It was a pity. What a pleasure it would have been to expose the hateful Mr Wentworth to the full fury of his commanding officer. Sadly, she must forgo that joy. There was no point in adding to her difficulties.

  She returned to the task of lifting out her clothing. Apart from the woollen cloak, her other garments were badly crumpled. She laid them on the bunk and smoothed the gowns as best she could.

  Then, beneath the last of the garments, she saw a glimpse of white. It was a letter, addressed in a familiar hand. She snatched at it eagerly, praying that it contained some glimmer of hope. Wentworth might have lied to her. Perhaps her father did not intend her to go to England after all. At least it might contain some explanation, some word that she was to be put ashore at Gibraltar.

  The missive was sealed, and with a sinking heart she gazed at the direction. It was addressed to Peregrine Wentworth.

  Sorely tempted, she weighed it in her hand. He need never know that it existed, and it was vital that she knew the contents. Her father might have mentioned the gold, and without it she would be helpless. She fingered the seal, but she was loath to break it.

  With a sigh, she laid the letter aside. It was sheer folly to allow such moral scruples to stand in her way in her present situation. If she were to carry out her plan, she must acquire a ruthless streak.

  Perhaps she might divide the gold. If her father had not mentioned the amount, she could keep at least one half of it. After all, it was meant for her, in an indirect way.

  She stifled a feeling of guilt and divided the coins into two piles, returning one of them to the leather purse. The other she tied securely in her handkerchief and tucked it into her pocket.

  Then she heard Peregrine’s voice.

  “Leave it, lad!” he ordered. “On this voyage my cabin will be locked. I have some valuables, you understand.”

  “But, sir...your clothes?”

  “I’ll give them to you as necessary. Off you go!” The key turned in the lock, and Perry entered the cabin.

  His eyes swept the tiny space. Then he scrutinised her closely.

  “I’m still here,” she snapped. “Did you expect me to vanish through the port?”

  “You’d have a long swim back to shore. What’s this?” He pointed to the letter.

  “It’s for you,” Elizabeth said shortly. “I found it among my clothing.”

  “And you didn’t open it? You surprise me!”

  “You must not judge everyone’s morals by your own,” she replied.

  Perry glanced at her, but he picked up the letter, broke open the seal, and carried it to the light.

  “May I see it?” Elizabeth held out her hand, and rather to her surprise he did not argue.

  Though the letter was brief, it was succinct. Mr Grantham apologised for the ruse, but he reiterated his determination to send his daughter to a place of safety. Elizabeth was to be delivered into the care of her aunt, in London. The gold was mentioned only in the hope that the unspecified amount would be sufficient. The letter ended with renewed thanks, and a loving message for his daughter.

  As Elizabeth read those last few words her tears welled up, but she fought them back. The hated Mr Wentworth must not be given the satisfaction of seeing her in distress.

  Why had her father taken such a step? If only he had waited. If his fears of an invasion proved groundless, she need not have been sent away.

  Though her eyes were suspiciously bright, she faced Perry squarely. “I’m thirsty,” she said coldly. “I should like a glass of wine.”

  To her fury, he laughed. “You are much too young to think of drinking wine.”

  “On the contrary, sir. In Italy we take wine from an early age. You will find none of your puritanical English notions there.”

  “And none in England either. You are behind the times. The Puritans were ousted long ago. However, we still doubt the wisdom of giving strong liquor to a schoolgirl.”

  Elizabeth clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened. He was baiting her deliberately. It was only with a supreme effort that she kept her temper.

  She picked up the bag of gold and tossed it to him. “There, you have been paid. Now I should like some food, unless you intend to starve me.”

  Perry’
s face grew dark with rage. He threw the money back at her. “Keep it!” he told her savagely. “You won’t starve, Miss Grantham, though in my opinion you should have been drowned at birth.”

  “More of your barbaric notions?” Elizabeth moved towards a cupboard. “Now where do you keep your wine?” She picked up a bottle and examined the label. “This will do. Will you be good enough to open it?”

  Baffled, he snatched it from her, but he didn’t refuse to fill her glass.

  Elizabeth took a sip. She didn’t like it much, but she wasn’t about to say so. “And the food?” she asked sweetly.

  Perry glared at her. “I hope you like salt beef, Miss Grantham. In the navy we live upon it for weeks at a time.”

  “So soon after leaving Genoa? What happened to your fresh provisions?”

  “Perhaps you’d care for a menu, ma’am.”

  “No, no, that won’t be necessary.” Elizabeth smiled up at him. “A little chicken and some fruit will suit me very well.”

  Perry bowed. “You have set my mind at rest,” he said with heavy irony. “I felt at the very least you would insist on duckling and green peas.”

  “In January, sir? I hope I am not so difficult. Come, I have not asked for ices, jellies, fruit creams, syllabubs, or even a tart, though naturally if they were available...?”

  “They are not available,” Perry shouted. “This is a warship, in case you had forgot. It will be difficult enough to smuggle food to you—”

  “But not impossible, I hope. I should hate to have to summon up my last reserves of strength to call for help.”

  Goaded beyond belief, he took a step towards her.

  “I should like to wring your neck,” he snapped in desperation. “I wish I’d never set eyes on you.”

  “There, at least, we are in full agreement.” Elizabeth gave him a dagger-look, and turned away, but he saw that her lips were trembling.

  “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “Please forgive me. I should not have spoken as I did.” He looked at her bent head and was seized with an overwhelming urge to comfort her. He reached out a hand and laid it on her shoulder, but she whipped round like a tigress.