Collins started to walk around Reece. “Better go stop it before it gets bad.”
Reece held out a hand and stopped him. “Stay. The weather is calm, so it’s safe enough for them to have it out. Besides, the men have been too quiet the past couple of days.”
In truth, Reece was glad there was about to be a fight. He even hoped some others would join in. Experience had taught him that it was far more dangerous when men could not release their frustrations and pent-up energy. But Bean and Gilley had yet to throw a punch. They were not even cursing. The only thing they did was stare at each other, periodically looking down at their feet.
“What the hell are they doing?” Reece grumbled.
Collins squeezed his jaw shut. He knew exactly why neither man had delivered the punch they both desperately desired to throw. Aimee was belowdecks and her cabin was close to where Gilley and Bean stood. And like every other fool on this ship, they had fallen for her charms. Collins had given up his attempts to prevent it from happening.
He had tried to keep her in her cabin. He had even assigned one of the ordinary seamen to stand guard and make sure she did not leave. But later that night, he found the infuriating woman on the main deck—with Smiley right at her side. Collins had been about to go over there and explain to the man that he had been ordered to be her guard, not her escort, when Collins saw that they were not alone. There, for all to see, was Aimee, sitting and talking with several seamen who were off shift. He had gone over to put a stop to it, knowing how much the crew coveted their free time and sleep, but by the time he got close enough, he realized the seamen not only accepted her presence; they desired it.
Deadeye was playing his violin, something he had not done in weeks, and all of the men—along with Aimee—were singing. Softly, but the tune was one with which he was familiar. It was called “The Wrecked Ship,” about a ship that sank and had no survivors. He had intended to interrupt and remind them that Aimee was not just any woman but a titled lady, but instead found himself joining in, helping the others teach her the lyrics to another three or four sea songs. He probably would have been there all night if it had not been for the early morning watch coming on deck to assume their shift.
It was then Collins realized Aimee Wentworth was no angel. She was a menace, able to remove the good sense God gave men. It was up to him to put an end to her escapades. His intentions must have been obvious because Carr had come to his cabin in the morning and asked Collins to let things be. The bosun had many responsibilities, but one of the most important was being the deck crew foreman. And Carr was one of the best. So when his bosun had explained how he was getting more work out of the men than ever by allowing those who completed their duties to go up on deck at night, Collins had given in, despite his gut telling him that giving Aimee such freedom was dangerous.
Reece looked over his shoulder at his chief mate. The damn man had gone just as mute as the two men glaring at each other on the main deck. The whole crew was acting strange. It was as if they had all become pacifists while in London. The curses that could be heard all throughout the day and night were a fraction of their normal volume and vulgarity. After a week at sea, he should have heard Collins threaten bodily injury to at least one of the able-bodied seamen. And yet nothing.
Reece was about to demand an explanation for why everyone was acting like their mothers were on board when he saw Carr step up onto the deck. Finally, Reece thought to himself. Carr was one of those bosuns who knew just when men needed to be separated and when they needed to be let free to settle things physically.
Reece watched, half anticipating for Carr to order the two men to fight it out. But upon hearing what the bosun did order, Reece lost his balance and would have fallen had he not been holding on to the side rail.
Apologize? Asking a seaman to apologize was about as ludicrous as asking JP to offer lessons in cooking. It was possible but so unlikely it was a waste of time. Reece turned and was about to head for the main deck when he heard Carr again make the demand.
“Ya heard me! Shrug ’er off and get back to what yer supposed to be doin’. And you men, stop your shilly-shallying and help Gilley and Bean get things right and clean before nightfall comes.” Not until he said nightfall did every man in sight perk up and start to work, helping to reset the sail and straighten up the deck.
Reece stopped in his tracks. His mind started to whirl. “Collins, if I didn’t know better, I would think my whole damn crew fell in love while we were anchored in the Thames.”
Collins took a deep breath and exhaled. “Highly, uh, doubtful, Captain.” Reece was about to say that he did not actually believe his crew was in love but that something unusual was definitely going on, when Collins nervously stretched his neck and added, “Maybe, uh, Captain, I should just go down there and, um, have a talk with the bosun.”
Reece blinked, stunned. His initial concern had been born from puzzlement, but now that Collins was acting just as jittery as the rest, Reece was actually concerned. Normally, his chief mate worried enough about the crew’s behavior—explained and unexplained—for the both of them. It was one of the reasons Reece relied on Collins as much as he did.
Reece rocked back on his heels and shook his head, trying to decide just how to handle his crew, when he heard one of the men on deck begin to hum. Others started to join him—including Carr and Collins. The haunting melody was the same damn tune Reece had been hearing in his dreams!
Squeezing his eyes shut, Reece shook his head back and forth. A large grin overtook his features as the feeling of relief flowed through his veins. He was an idiot. Someone had snuck a woman on board. Now, everything made sense.
He had not imagined a woman singing. A woman had been singing. It explained why the men acted as though they were in love. It even vindicated the mysterious mood swings Collins had been having. The last time a woman was on the Sea Emerald, it had been because of his chief mate. His relationship with Rosita had ended in disaster, just like all the others. First Blackie had tried, and even Jolly George had coaxed a woman on board, thinking himself in love. Most captains banned such activity, but not Reece. While things always started out fine, it was not long before hell of some nature broke out; that, more than any sanction he could impose, kept the women away.
However, Reece would give his men credit. They had been at sea nearly a week, which was the longest time a woman had been aboard without being the cause of some incident. Reece chuckled to himself, wondering just who it was who had smuggled her aboard.
He considered looking for her but immediately decided against the idea. Right now she was not a disruptive presence. In fact, as long as the crew was trying hard to keep her a secret, she was just the opposite. It was unfortunate that such peace and quiet would not last all the way to the Americas. The men would eventually explode and the woman would go from fascinating to annoying everyone around her.
Women were just not made for small spaces. The constant rocking made them dreadfully seasick and they were easily bored. They belonged on land, not at sea. Only there could they enjoy all those things—shopping, walking, stability, visits from friends—they constantly needed. So it was impossible the peace would last, but as long as he delayed “discovering” who she was, it remained Collins’s problem to deal with.
Reece turned to go back to his cabin and once again heard the faint musical sound of a woman’s voice reach his ears. He sighed. While it was good to know the reason behind his men’s bizarre behavior, he just wished the damn woman’s singing didn’t remind him of Aimee. It was bad enough she plagued his dreams; he did not need her plaguing him while he was awake.
Chapter 7
October 14, 1816
Lord Aldon’s heart seized as the enormous horse leaped over the obstacle. It seemed impossible that such a huge animal could hurl itself so high in the air or that such a small person could influence, let alone control it. But his Millie could. She had been able to do so since the day she had brought Hercules home—a pr
esent he had unwittingly purchased for her on her sixteenth birthday. That was nearly five years ago and they were still inseparable. The large mammal seemed to understand not only how small and vulnerable his daughter was but how much she adored him.
He watched as she slowed the black beast down and turned toward the stables. Each day she rode longer than the day before in her daily search for some type of relief. He recognized the pain etched in her face. It had been carved into his own the day her mother passed away. Only his Millie and his love for horses seemed to keep part of him anchored in the present. He did not want the same to happen to his daughter.
Lord Aldon sighed and dropped the curtains. It had been nearly a week since his daughter arrived home unexpectedly and without explanation. Two days later Hercules was delivered with a brief note from Chase stating that Millie should not be without her horse while he remained in London. Lord Aldon never asked his daughter why or for how long she was visiting. In many ways, he did not want to know.
He liked his son-in-law. Liked him a lot. And he suspected that if he became aware of the particulars of Millie’s visit and accompanying distress, his estimation of the highly regarded marquess would plummet to an irrecoverable level. Besides, it was not a father’s place to interfere in a marriage, and when loved ones knew too much, they oftentimes could not help but interfere.
It was that premise which had kept him silent for nearly seven days. But watching his daughter fall deeper into despair, Lord Aldon had also come to the conclusion that distance and time were not helping. A little parental prodding was needed.
Lord Aldon approached the stables and immediately one of the younger hands rushed to open the doors. “Her ladyship has just returned, my lord. She insisted on brushing down her horse,” the lad quickly added as a gentle reminder that Millie insisted on doing a stable hand’s job when it came to Hercules.
“Hush, boy. I know my daughter and her peculiarities. Go off now and tend to your other duties.” Lord Aldon moved around the numerous apparatuses and stalls, working his way down to the one Millie had selected long ago to house her horse.
Her mother died when Millie was a small child. The three of them had been very close, much closer than typical wealthy families, but then most marriages were for things such as convenience, money, land, and power—not love. So when his wife had been taken from this life, there was a time he had feared that he might never recover. He might not have, if he had not had Millie.
As she grew and her love for horses became as strong as his, he had built himself a matchless horse farm. The Derby, Ascot, and trips to Tattersalls became positive ways to pass the time. But the pleasure of the stables, the horseflesh, and daily rides would never give Millie the solace it gave him. Her problems resided with those who were alive, not dead. Millie needed to face her emotions, and until she did so, her misery would only grow.
“I saw you ride today. He’s a mighty fine stepper, your horse.”
Millie looked sideways at her father and continued the long, even brush strokes. “You didn’t used to think so. In fact, I believe you thought him to be a monster.”
Aldon chuckled. “Ah, well, that is because he is one, darling. But when a horse loves you, it makes all the difference.” He watched Millie’s brief smile retreat and her face become expressionless once again. “Do you remember when he was first delivered and how you begged and pleaded for weeks to ride him?”
“I distinctly remember each and every no.”
“I was positive he would kill you, the one precious thing I had left in the world. Of course I said no. It was only later that I realized you would never cease hounding me, that your dogged personality would eventually outlast my protective nature.”
Millie shot him a halfhearted smile. “Then I shall endeavor to acquiesce more often.”
“You will not. Your tenacity is one of your most endearing qualities and one that too many lack. The more important something is to you, the more risks you are willing to take. You approach challenges directly, becoming involved in the solution, not content to stand by and wait for someone else to solve life’s difficulties. It is a gift you got from your mother. It can be a frustrating trait for us . . . husbands and fathers, but in the end, such resolve is appreciated. Don’t ever forget that,” he finished, congratulating himself. It would be difficult for Millie to return to Chase and work out their problems, but based on the little nudge he just gave her, he felt assured she would.
Millie felt her father bend over and kiss the back of her head before leaving the way he came in. It was an unusual caring act, but one that touched her.
Her father clearly had been referring to her and Chase and the reasons behind her unexpected arrival at Abileen Rose. Thankfully, her father had never asked why she had come home or what was behind her growing depression. Yet he had recognized that she needed some guidance and decided to remind her of who she was.
Millie placed the brush down and called over an astonished hand to complete the job of cleaning Hercules. She wiped her hands on her short coat and exited the stables.
Her father was right. She had been waiting for others to take action, in the mistaken belief that Aimee would be quickly delivered back to London. That event had not occurred. From what Elda Mae said in her brief letter, a Bow Street runner had been a regular visitor to the London residence. Chase, however, had yet to write a single word. Why, Millie could only guess, but power and money were what was needed to find Aimee now. Something Chase had, not she.
If she could just know for certain that Aimee was on board the Sea Emerald, she would be able to better handle the other issues between her and Chase. But even those needed the affirmation that Aimee was safe and not in any danger if they were to be resolved. Sitting around waiting for answers went against every element of Millie’s being and it was something she was not going to continue doing. If Chase would not or could not provide answers, then she would seek them herself.
As Millie walked back to the main house to change her clothes, she mulled over how someone would go about investigating an abduction from the London Docks. The answers that readily came to mind—interview dock owners, hire Bow Street runners, speak to those working that night—were no doubt steps that Chase had already taken. And if he had received no answers by now, there were either none to give or, more likely, those who knew something were keeping silent. Unfortunately, only certain women were accepted around the docks, and as a titled woman, Millie knew she would have little chance of success if she tried to obtain information there.
Millie paused midstride as an idea began to crystallize. She was wrong. There was a way to get the answers she was seeking. And it was something that Chase, his power, his money, or even his Bow Street runners could not do. She would need assistance, and her plan was not without risk, but at least she would be helping in the search for her friend.
Picking up her skirts, she ran the rest of the way, feeling something other than powerless for the first time since she saw Aimee being dragged away.
Chapter 8
October 15, 1816
Chase slid open the connecting door and entered Millie’s empty bedchambers. After having discovered nothing about the thief and with no return of the Sea Emerald and his sister, he yearned for solace. So he sought the one thing that gave him a modicum of relief—the smells and comforts of his beloved wife.
Each night he opened the door and imagined Millie sitting at her dressing table, chattering aimlessly about some odd piece of information she had found amusing. Then he would walk over to the heavily padded leather wing chair she had placed by the hearth just for him. As he dropped into the chair, he would revisit his favorite memories. They were all of Millie.
He would recall her at twelve years of age, hopping around on one foot in her shift with her dark hair draped down over her shoulders and her lavender eyes snapping with fire. He had known then that Millie would become one of the most beautiful women he was ever likely to encounter, but it was only after he
kissed her eight years later that he realized he was in danger. She had stirred passions in him he had not thought possible—and he had pushed her away. He had led the life of a spy, and to be with him would put her in danger. So he had struggled to keep her out of his life and away from the complications of his world.
Those closest to him and Millie had discerned their love for each other before they could even admit it to themselves. And the resulting ruse that had brought them together had caused the Season’s largest stir, when in a jealous storm he decked Millie’s escort, swung her, protesting vehemently, into his arms, and stomped out of a ballroom announcing to everyone that Lady Mildred Aldon was his fiancée. And every night since had been heaven, until six days ago when he had sent her away.
A week without the very person who made life worth living was a week in hell. Chase had not foreseen how difficult it would be. Hourly, he contemplated whether or not to send for her, but each time, he forced himself to shelve the idea. Millie was safer with her father and hopefully happier, away from the constant reminder of Aimee’s disappearance.
Chase wished he had some news confirming Aimee’s safety. It had been over a week since his ship, the Zephyr, had left to chase down the Sea Emerald. If Captain Spalding had been able to meet up with Reece and secure his sister, they would have returned by now. It had been a slim chance regardless, but Reece should have turned back anyway upon discovering Aimee aboard. With no sign of either ship, it might be another two months until Aimee was back home. That is, if she was aboard Reece’s ship.
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