The Misadventures of Lady Ophelia (The Undaunted Debutantes Book 3)

by Christina McKnight

  The wind increased as they walked, teasing Lady Ophelia’s locks from their pins to dance about her shoulders.

  She stared out at the water, not noticing—or at least not commenting on—his stolen sideways glances.

  “Have you been to the ocean, Lady Ophelia?” Colin knew many Londoners who’d never been near open water except when they traveled near the river Thames. He, on the other hand, had grown up on stories told to Molly by Fair Wind and his father’s occasional tales of his youthful visits to Sheerness before they’d permanently settled inland.

  “Only a few months ago, when Luci and I went to Southend in Essex to rescue—errr, collect Edith; however, the trip was not a long one, nor traveled for pleasure.” Her hands clasped his arm tighter the more she said. “I fear I was not able to enjoy the sea breeze or the sound of the waves.”

  Rescue? Yes, he’d heard the word before she’d corrected herself.

  “Tell me more about your friends. It sounds like a trip to Essex—no matter the hurried nature—counts as an adventure of sorts.”

  Her stare fell away from the water in the distance to the ground before them.

  She gave her head a soft shake. If he hadn’t been watching her from the corner of his eye, he would have missed the subtle gesture.

  “Come now, Sheerness hasn’t been your only adventure outside London,” he prodded, knowing there was more on the topic of Southend he needed to hear. “Tell me, Lady Ophelia.”

  “Southend was not my adventure, my lord,” she sighed. “While I will not deny the daring and exciting aspects of the journey—a trip that would have seen us returning without Edith in tow—I was merely there to aid my friends.”

  “So, you crave your own quest?” He didn’t expect a response, for the answer was obvious. It was a subject Colin could understand. So much of his own life had been written by his father or commanded by Molly, much like the reason they were in Sheerness now. It wasn’t one of his choosing, but an obligation of sorts. “My arrival with plans to travel to Sheerness seemed the perfect opportunity, then.”

  She laughed, a light chuckle captured by the wind and blown inland. “Yes, I am happy to see you agree with my decision.”

  “I cannot say I agree with your choice to flee London without leaving any true note as to our destination—putting your reputation in jeopardy—and all for my grandmama and a family tale that may not be grounded in fact.” He did not add the more preposterous part about being accompanied by a man and insisting on sharing sleeping quarters. Neither of them need be reminded of what had almost occurred during their private hours at the inn. “However, I do fully understand your need for something to call your own.”

  At least Colin had his small estate, Hawke Manor, near Tintinhull Court in Somerset. It wasn’t anything grand, but it belonged solely to him as Baron Hawke. No one could take it from him. Though, women rarely owned land, lived in a home not of their father’s or husband’s choosing, or traveled unaccompanied.

  Freedom, what little he possessed, had always been something he’d taken for granted.

  Lady Ophelia—and other society maidens—lived under a staunch set of pre-determined rules of conduct. Any infraction would see the woman publicly shamed—or worse, cast from society altogether.

  Would this adventure cause Lady Ophelia lasting ruination and shame?

  Colin shuddered to think of the consequences their actions could cause. The mere notion of Lady Ophelia suffering due to him was unthinkable.

  “My friends, Lady Lucianna and Lady Edith, are on their way to Gretna Green at the moment,” she shared, bringing her stare back to the ocean. “Luci is to wed the Duke of Montrose.”

  She’d left word with her lady’s maid that she was departing for the Scottish border, and now it made sense as to why her parents would not fret overmuch. They would assume she was safely with her friends—and not alone with a stranger on the coast of Kent.

  “But you were not invited on their adventure?” he asked.

  “It is not so much that I was not invited as I was forbidden to accompany them by my father.”

  “It is a long journey, especially for a woman not in her family’s presence,” he mused aloud.

  “My father’s reasoning exactly, my lord.”

  “Why do I think you were not all that upset at his refusal to allow you to accompany your friends?”

  “You are very perceptive.” She glanced at him, the hint of mischief he’d noted in her bearing as they’d left London returned. “While I do so wish to be at Lady Lucianna’s side when her vows are spoken, it is always a bit tiresome being surrounded by two couples who openly adore one another. I sometimes gain the impression that I am utterly invisible and useless to the foursome. They have a carriage with four wheels…and a fifth simply has no place.”

  Every driver was aware that a spare, fifth wheel was always wise to have on hand, but Colin kept that knowledge to himself. “That cannot be the extent of their feelings toward you.”

  “Oh, heavens no, the girls are so very much in love with Torrington and Montrose I am certain they do not notice my melancholy in the slightest.”

  Colin had lost track of their progress as he’d been listening so intently to Lady Ophelia. She’d afforded him a glimpse into her world—one Colin was unfamiliar with. While his parents were cordial with one another, he would not label the wedded couple in love. He would, however, describe them as indifferent to Colin’s comings and goings except how they affected the Coventry Earldom. Molly had been the only person concerned with Colin’s upbringing, and mostly she’d remained at Tintinhull Court for his entire life.

  To have family—or even close friends—who cared about his well-being and took an interest in his life seemed foreign.

  “Why did you not disregard your father’s edict and journey with them?” he asked as they turned around a large warehouse building and began walking parallel to the water, making their way toward the docks—and the tiny ale house Molly had written was situated between the fish market and the Sheerness office that kept track of all ingoing and outgoing ships and their cargo. “It seemed easy enough for you to slip away.”

  “Perhaps I did not truly wish to accompany them. We have spent much time together since our dear friend, Tilda, died. Mayhap it was time for me to find a measure of independence.” She halted and looked straight ahead, giving him no opportunity to comment further. “It seems we have arrived…”

  Her voice trailed off as her hand slipped into his and their fingers intertwined. The warmth of her skin through her gloved hand warded off the morning ocean breeze—but did nothing to keep the foreboding feeling from settling around him.

  “It appears we will not be finding what we seek here.”

  Chapter 17

  Ophelia stood beside Colin, their fingers interlocking as they both took in the sight before them. The fish market was a buzz of activity as fishermen brought in their morning catches. The records office, only noted by a wooden shingle hanging above the door, was yet to open for the day.

  And between the two businesses—a shell of a building, its burned and decaying walls falling in on themselves with a sign to ward off anyone who might trespass. The single window on the front had been smashed out, no glass remaining.

  She squeezed Colin’s hand, a silent plea to not lose hope.

  To her surprise, he didn’t pull his hand back, but held hers tighter.

  “Where to next?” she sighed, glancing up at him standing at her side, but he remained staring straight ahead. “We have two more places on the list, correct?”

  Colin closed his eyes for a moment, and his chin fell.

  She could not imagine the bleakness coursing through him at yet another setback.

  “Yes.” With his free hand, he retrieved the list from his pocket, unfolding it with one hand and keeping his grip on hers. “My grandpapa’s old ship may still be at the dock. Molly says he kept all his important maps and notes aboard.”

  That the vessel wo
uld still be at port after all these years seemed difficult to believe—the notion of his possessions being on board was downright preposterous.

  However, Ophelia held her tongue, she was hesitant to further dampen his mood. “Then we should be off to the dock.”

  “I do not know how to identify the boat if it is there,” he said with an exasperated sigh, releasing her to run his hand through his hair. His light locks reflected the sun as they fell to cover one eye. The disheveled look suited him well, and Ophelia thought for not the first time that he would appear at home on a vessel on the open water. “I should have forced Molly to travel with me.”

  Her stomach clenched. It was absurd, but Ophelia felt as if she’d disappointed him in some way. It wasn’t even conceivable she could assist him beyond giving him Fair Wind’s book, though that did not halt the feelings of failure and dejection. Luci and Edith would know exactly what to do if they were here. They wouldn’t allow defeat to stop them from finding what they sought.

  Straightening her shoulders, Ophelia smiled broadly and turned toward Colin, determined to show him she could be useful. She wasn’t merely the odd woman out this time, nor the one taking directions from those who “knew better.”

  “I think we should ask at the records office.” She pointed to the building bordering the burned-down ale house. “They will have logs that make note of all the ships coming and going from Sheerness—and, hopefully, have record of Fair Wind’s vessel.”

  She was hard-pressed to tamp down her confidence at finally taking a measure of control in their adventure.

  “Very well,” he said with a nod. “Let us begin there.”

  He held his arm out, and she slipped her hand into place. It was as if they’d strolled together for many years, their pace was evenly matched, and his hold on her felt right. She wondered for a brief moment what it would be like to dance with Colin, perhaps a waltz or a lively reel, with an entire ballroom bearing witness. Would other debutantes cast envious stares her way? It was more likely they wouldn’t even notice Ophelia in Colin’s arms as his handsomeness would certainly be the only thing attracting anyone’s notice.

  It was odd, this journey with Lord Hawke. She’d never been away from her family—or her friends—for such an extended period of time. It was freeing in a peculiar way. The fact that she hadn’t given a second thought to what her parents might think was unsettling—and a bit selfish—but blast it all, Ophelia rarely stood on her own two feet without someone there to support her.

  Along those lines, it had been nearly an entire day since she’d thought of Tilda and everything that had happened with her friend. She hadn’t been plagued by night terrors as she’d slept, Colin on the floor close by.

  The records office appeared closed from afar, but as they moved closer, a light could be seen through the open window, along with a man sitting behind a desk, quill in hand. As they entered, the clerk glanced up, his eyes widening in shock. His chair scraped against the scarred, wooden floor when he stood, glancing about as if they’d entered his private domain and he was uncertain how to proceed.

  “Good morn, sir,” Ophelia said. “Do you hold the records for Sheerness?”

  His head bobbed, and he hurried across the room, his hands clutched before him. “Certainly. Certainly, miss. Births, deaths, land, and sea. I’m Mr. Ackerson.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Mr. Ackerson.” Ophelia remained close to the door. The business office was piled high with crates, trunks, papers, and files, making navigating any farther an unwise decision lest she risk being crushed by falling boxes. “We are looking for a boat.”

  Ackerson’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced over his shoulder to the area at the back of the office. “Sea it is. I keep everything in the back. Come along.”

  Ophelia glanced at Colin and shrugged before he stepped in front of her and led the way toward Ackerson. The man hurried ahead of them, clearly familiar with the safest and most expedited route to the sea records. Despite the clutter, not a speck of dust had settled on anything. She could not imagine that many people visited the record’s office, but everything appeared clean, if not orderly.

  Slipping by an upright pile of rolled maps, Ophelia decided her father would greatly enjoy a visit to Sheerness, if only to spend an entire fortnight exploring this room. Maybe she would speak with him about it when she returned home.

  “Almost there,” Colin whispered over his shoulder. “I do not see how the man can find anything in this mess.”

  Ophelia crossed her fingers and held them high for him to see, and they both laughed, though she noticed his chuckle was more hesitant than hers. Yet, she was determined to think positively. They needs must find some information to take back to London—and this ship was only one of two leads left. Mr. Ackerson and his impractical sorting methods was possibly their best—maybe their only—option.

  “What are you looking for?” Ackerson asked, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the pile of folders and papers haphazardly stacked. “Shipment manifest? Export log? Injury details?”

  “Er, we are looking for a ship.”

  “Name?” he queried.

  “Sadly, I do not know,” Colin admitted.

  Ackerson turned sharply toward them, his stare narrowing as he brushed his palms down the front of his trousers. “No name.” He scratched his head. “Type of vessel?”

  “I am afraid we do not know that either,” Ophelia answered when Colin’s shoulders fell. “But we know approximately the year it came and went.”

  Ackerson pursed his lips and returned his gaze to his files. “That may help. What is the date?”

  Ophelia looked to Colin, a bit of hope returning.

  “A little over fifty years ago. During the Seven Years’ War…”

  The man exhaled heavily and shook his head. “That was a busy time for Sheerness to be certain. We had ships coming and going nearly every day for four years. Exports, imports, and even a few ships belonging to the king. Are there any other details you can share? If not, the three of us will be here searching long into next month.”

  It was a difficult topic, but Ophelia suspected Colin would have to name Fair Wind as the captain they were here about. Was Colin’s grandpapa a well-known man in Sheerness, or had his memory faded and disappeared with time?

  Certainly, even the tales of a smuggler’s adventures would be passed down with the town folklore. Ackerson must be the town historian, as well.

  “Would the captain’s name help?” Ophelia asked.

  “Depends,” Ackerson mumbled. “Again, lots of boats coming and going…most not from around here, so I won’t have record of them all.”

  Colin paused, and Ophelia nodded in support. “This man was from Sheerness.”

  “From Sheerness, you say?”

  “Yes,” Colin said, clearing his throat, and Ophelia feared it would be all he’d say. “He was born here, wed my grandmama here, and only moved away because he had no other choice.”

  The man slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and rolled back on his heels. “Not many folks leave Sheerness,” he mused. “Suppose I’d have some record of him, or my pa might remember him.”

  “Porter Parnell,” Colin said in a rush, it was as if he waited another moment, he’d lose the nerve to speak his grandpapa’s name. “He wed Molly Kirkwise.”

  Ackerson tilted his head to the side and hummed, narrowing his intense stare on Colin. “Porter Parnell—married to ol’ Kirkland Kirkwise’s eldest gal?”

  Ophelia wasn’t certain if Ackerson knew whom he spoke of, or was only stringing together the oddest name he could think of, but Colin nodded confirmation and smiled.

  “You’re looking for Fair Wind?” Ackerson asked.

  “Not Fair Wind, his vessel,” Ophelia corrected, but the man didn’t take his stare off Colin.

  “Afraid you won’t have any luck finding his ship in these parts.” Ackerson took a step toward Colin, and Lord Hawke moved away until the back of his legs collided with a l
arge trunk. “Well, I must say I am surprised I didn’t notice right when you walked in.”

  Ophelia had the odd urge to step between the men and block Colin from Ackerson’s intense scrutiny.

  However, Colin spoke before she could move. “Do I look so much like him?”

  “I never met him in person, but his portrait hung in the ale house next door until it burned to the ground.” Ackerson tapped his forehead, chin, and chest in the same way Ophelia had witnessed Molly doing during one of her tirades. “You must be his son?”

  Colin chuckled, and the tension in the room fled. “Grandson, actually. Colin Parnell, Lord Hawke when I’m feeling particularly formal.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, and it is a swell thing that we aren’t high in the instep here in Sheerness.”

  “You said I would not be finding Fair Wind’s vessel at the dock?”

  “’Fraid not.” Ackerson shook his head in apology. “Boat was nearly sinking. Merchant company, some businessman from London, came through a few years ago and bought the ancient thing from Molly’s cousin, Jedidiah. I can see what other logs I have, though if I remember my father’s tales correctly, Fair Wind kept meticulous notes of his journeys…did not favor leaving them here with the records office.”

  It was another false trail. Certainly, there would be no proof of Fair Wind’s true purposes at sea in such a public office where anyone could request information. Without the boat and what could be hidden within, they had nothing. Colin’s grandpapa, whether smuggling goods into England or running missives for the king, would not value his personal information spreading to the townsfolk.

  Ophelia could not imagine the time and effort Fair Wind had put into hiding his missions for the king. There was no other explanation than he was a loyal, dedicated servant during his time at sea. It was either that or Colin’s father was correct in proclaiming the man a no-good smuggler.