“Oh, no, sir. I was just wonderin’ if you heard about the workers’ strike. Dozens of them walked right off and it’s madness in the streets.”
Matthew’s heart skipped a beat as he glanced over at The Topaz. There seemed to be plenty of workers about. “I do not understand,” he said without looking at the man. “Who walked away?”
The man reddened. “Forgive me, sir. I were speakin’ of the Roebuck.” He turned and pointed far down the docks.
“Ah, I see,” Matthew said with a relieved sigh. “The wages were not paid again?”
“That’s right, sir,” Byron said. “That and they’re sayin’ the pay ain’t good either. I’m so glad I don’t work for old Kellogg and that I’m workin’ for you.” Then he gasped. “Oh, beggin’ yer pardon, sir. I hope he ain’t no friend of yours.”
Matthew chuckled. “No, you have no need to worry yourself. I believe I have the hardest workers I have ever seen.”
Byron’s smile widened to show a mass of brown teeth, and when he spit a wad of tobacco over the dock’s edge, Mathew understood why.
“Ah, almost forgot to tell ya,” Byron said before Matthew could get away, “There was a woman who needed a passage back to Dover. George offered her a cabin on the ship.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Matthew said, though he did not like strangers on his ships, and more so The Topaz for it was a ship meant to transport goods, not people. George had served the former Marquess of Brandybrook, so he allowed the man certain leniences from time to time; however, he would certainly have to have a talk with him to be sure he understood that he should speak to Matthew before accepting passengers in the future.
The workers were securing the last of the cargo when Matthew boarded the ship, and he smiled as George came walking up to him. There was no doubt in his mind that George was a fine captain; however, he also suspected it was due time for the man to consider retiring from his position. He had been old when Matthew was a child, and the kind but leathery face grew older by the day.
“Sir,” George said as he did his customary bow, which was always excessive in its execution. “I’m afraid there’s been a strike…”
Matthew raised his hand. “I have been apprised of the situation, George. I am hoping none of our crew has gotten any ideas to follow suit?”
George laughed. “Nah, sir. The men here like workin’ for you. You treat them with respect, not like some I know of.”
“I understand that you have taken on a new passenger.”
The man nodded. “A lady, sir. She was near tears, and I couldn’t just stand there and watch her suffer. So, I invited her to come with us.” He lowered his eyes and wrung his hands. “If what I did deserves a reduction in my wages, I understand.”
Matthew chuckled. “George, you know that is not like me.” When the old man raised his eyes and smiled, Matthew continued. “See that she is given the cleanest cabin we have. I only pray that a lady understands what kind of ship she is boarding.”
“The finest at sea,” George said, his chest puffed out. “You must realize, sir, that the vessels of your father are talked about far and wide.”
Matthew had to swallow his laugh. He cared for the old captain, but the man was prone to ‘slight exaggeration’ as George called it and would speak for hours if allowed. With a smile, Matthew placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “These things are true because of the captains who command them. Now, I must go and attend to some last-minute work, but I trust you can see this fine vessel sets sail without any issues.”
“Of course, Sir,” George said with his grand bow.
Matthew shook his head and made his way to his cabin. As he passed other members of the crew, he greeted them with words and smiles. By the time he reached his cabin, he was ready for the quiet of the small space.
The cabin was a combination of his sleeping area and a small office, the largest cabin on the Topaz. As with all of the beds on the ship, his was attached to the wall, as were all of the main pieces of furniture in the room. Even the desk had been secured to the floor to keep it from sliding during harsher weather. He moved past the desk to a small cabinet on the wall to remove the small container of brandy and a cup. Although he would rather have used a glass decanter and a proper brandy sniffer, too many had shattered in the cabin at one time or another for his liking. He was not one to waste a good bottle of brandy.
He poured himself a measure and inhaled, finding the scent comforting. He did not drink an exceptional amount of alcohol, but he did enjoy parting when he was feeling that rising anxiety that went with his hectic life. With at least another hour before The Topaz was to set sail, he had much work to complete, and now would be the perfect time to do so. He took a seat in the chair at his desk, removed the small box that contained his writing utensils and ink from one of the drawers, and pulled out his ledger.
However, it was not long before he was leaning back in his chair, wondering about his future, the ledger completely forgotten. Perhaps he would save the work for the journey. Now, he would much rather be on deck in the hustle and bustle of the crew readying for casting off than shut up inside his cabin.
With that thought, he returned everything to its proper place and headed back to the deck.
Chapter Two
Amelia closed her eyes and relished in the cool sea breeze that blew across her face. Although there was plenty about which to complain, she was thankful, as well. She had set out on an adventure, and an adventure is what she had found. Granted, it was not the type one would expect in a first-time experience abroad, but at least Patricia exploits had ended in such a wonderful manner. The relative peacefulness—The Topaz was still at port, so the hustle and bustle of the docks on the opposite side still came to her ears, although a bit muted—and the smell of the salt air relaxed her harried nerves. And best of all, she was going home.
When she opened her eyes, however, she stifled a scream with her hand, for a man, dressed impeccably in a gray tailcoat and beige breeches that fit quite snuggly in certain areas—her eyes widened when she realized where she had been looking and quickly moved up to his face—stood beside her, a crooked grin on his face.
“I apologize for startling you,” he said. “Were you falling asleep?” His voice was deep and soothing with just a hint of a laugh to it. She had to bend her neck to see the dark, wavy hair atop his head moving lightly with the breeze and his blue eyes that matched the sea below.
She knew her cheeks had to have reddened, and not from the cool salt air. Her embarrassment at being caught—not only standing with her eyes closed to the point someone would believe her sleeping but also where her eyes had wandered—made her tone curter than she had expected. “Hardly. I was enjoying the peacefulness of the sea.” She smoothed her skirts as a way to keep her hands from clutching at them, but why she should be nervous, she did not understand. He gave no indication he had noticed her roving eye, and yet, her heart beat much like it had when her brother James had jumped out and startled her when they were young children.
The man gave a single nod as he placed his hands on the rail. “Although I do enjoy France,” he said, “I look forward to the journey home, for there is no place like England in the world.”
“I could not agree with you more,” Amelia replied. The man seemed affable, and she found her anxiety easing, though his handsome kept her from relaxing completely. “My journey here was not what I expected it to be, and I cannot wait to get back to normalcy.”
“Oh?” the man asked as he turned toward her. “Was your stay here unpleasant?” His smile made her knees weaken, but somehow it held a mischievous vestige to it, much like a young boy up to no good. That only made him that much more attractive for some reason.
“I would say it was more than unpleasant. I must admit that things did not go according to plan, although I am thankful for the opportunity to have come. Few women are given the opportunity to travel, and I will remember my stay here for years to come.”
�
�Are you at least happy with this ship?” he patted the railing to emphasize his question.
“In comparison to the ship I was meant to take, I find this one a bit older and not as impressive as the captain sees it. However, my ship was…delayed, so if I am to return home, I must see it as the finest vessel to be found.”
The man laughed and shook his head.
“And why do you find my words to be humorous?”
He raised a hand as if to defend himself. “I am sorry. I beg your forgiveness. The captain of this ship…well, this is his first journey on it.”
“Oh,” Amelia gasped. “So, what the captain told me…”
“Was not all truth. Those who are not accustomed to the seas are prone to tall tales. There is no need to feel embarrassed for falling for his story.”
Amelia sighed. “Without sounding a woman of complaints, I must admit that during this holiday, I have had money stolen from me on more than one occasion as well as gifts I had purchased, and my friend has run away to marry the man she loves. Not that I fault her for following her heart, of course, but she did leave me to return home alone and explain to her parents where she has gone. Embarrassment for believing the tale of a sea captain is the least of my worries at the moment. I suppose my naivety has not lessened over the course of the past week.”
“Please,” he said, his face taking on a sincere expression, “accept my apologies. I did not realize your misfortune.”
Amelia nodded. “Your apology has been accepted,” she said with a smile, “Mr…?”
“Lord Matthew Albright, Marquess of Brandybrook, at your service,” he said with a deep bow.
Amelia felt her breath constrict for a moment, surprised that, though she did not know him personally, she did know of him. He resided not twenty miles from her own home, and though she had never seen him—they were not of the same class, so she had no reason to have met him—his name had made its way to many circles. “And your name?”
“Oh!” she said, realizing she had not responded to his introduction in kind. “Miss Amelia Browning of Rotherfield, Sussex.” She gave him a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lord.”
The man smiled that dashing smile, and Amelia wondered how she was still standing. “Miss Browning, it would be my pleasure to have you as my guest for dinner this evening. That is, if you would like to join me.”
Before she could think, Amelia found herself nodding. “Yes, thank you.” Once the words had tumbled from her lips, she wondered at her willingness to dine with a man she had just met. Well, she had already spoken the words, there was no way out now.
“I will send someone to your room later when and where dinner is to be served.”
“I apologize for questioning you, but with so few passengers, do we not all eat in the same place at roughly the same time? I cannot imagine that a merchant ship would be as accommodating as to offer meals whenever a passenger wishes to eat.”
Lord Albright’s smile widened. “That might be the case with most passengers,” he replied. “However, not so with the owner of the ship.”
“This is your ship?” Amelia asked with a gasp of surprise.
“Indeed. And by the way,” he leaned in and lowered his voice so only she could hear him, “the captain has commanded her for over ten years without issue.” He gave a mischievous laugh, but that only prickled Amelia even further.
She turned to look back out over the water. Handsome or titled, it mattered not. She would not allow herself to be the source of this man’s laughter. However, before she could reject his invitation out of pure vexation, she turned to find he was already gone.
***
Matthew adjusted his dark coat, though it did not need adjusting. He was not nervous, per se, but he did look forward to spending time with the lovely woman he had met on the deck earlier in the day. The small personal dining room was rarely used unless Matthew was aboard, and even then he tended to dine with the crew—if you could call the gathering of rough scamps with few manners as such. When he carried any passengers, which happen rarely, few were of a caliber needing his attention, thus they ate in the galley before the crew sat down to for their dinner and in the morning after the crew had gone off for their duties for the day. Yet, from time to time, he did invite special guests to dine with him, such as the beautiful Miss Browning. This did not mean he only dined with beautiful women traveling alone—that was a rarity of itself anyway. More often than not his invites were extended to well-to-do businessmen, many who had enlisted his services to ship whatever merchandise they needed either to or from England, which led to further business arrangements at later times.
Speaking with Miss Browning earlier had been a pleasant encounter, for unlike most women who learned he was titled, she had not fawned over him. As a matter of fact, she had continued on as if nothing had changed, and he found the reaction refreshing. Since that meeting, her innocent eyes entered his thoughts at every turn, and the look of pain as she told of her adversity during her stay in Calais brought out some sense of wanting to protect her in some way. On the other hand, he had not meant to embarrass her or to make fun, but the woman held some sort of power over him from the moment he laid eyes on her. Perhaps he sensed an innocence in her for he found he could not help but allow the unruly child within him a moment’s reprieve from its prison cell where he kept it hidden away most of the time.
He had never met any woman, of the ton or otherwise, who could cause him to act such a bumbling fool. If his father had witnessed such actions, Matthew would have no doubt drawn a swift rebuke. Any public showing of a smile, unless it was carefully calculated to gain the advantage in a business dealing, was oftentimes mocked by the former Marquess as a sign of weakness. Matthew could never please the man even up to the day of his death, and now that he was gone, Matthew would never be able to prove to him that he did, indeed, have the capabilities to live up to the title given him. However, even if he could not atone for his shortfalls with his father, he would take every chance made available to him to earn the forgiveness of Miss Browning, although his joking had not been an attempt to mock her or make her feel less than she was in any way.
Just saying her name alone sent his mind scurrying, and he found himself wishing to know more about her. This night, over dinner, he planned on doing just that. Who could resist fresh lamb with a wine sauce served with roasted potatoes? A red wine he bought in Paris just days ago would complement the food quite well. Now with the table set and with the calm sea, dinner would be a night to remember.
“My Lord,” a steward announced with a bow, “the misses is here.”
Miss Brown entered behind the man, her white-gloved hand clutching a small purse. Her yellow dress had puffed white sleeves and an enticingly low neckline, and for not the first time, he found her quite lovely.
“My Lord?” the steward said, breaking Matthew from his thoughts. “Should I be servin’ yer dinner in a moment?”
Matthew gave the man a distracted nod without taking his eyes off the woman before him. “Please, sit,” he said to Miss Browning. He assisted her with her chair, intrigued by the tiny smile she wore—not necessarily an amused smile but more as if she were keeping a secret—and then took his seat across from her. “Your smile,” he said as he gave her a quizzical look. “May I ask what brings it about?”
She leaned forward. Was that a twinkle in her eye? Maybe there was more to Miss Browning that what he first thought. “I am happy that I am going to eat in all actuality. I considered that I had fallen for a tale of the sea once again when you had invited me and imaged myself arriving only to find you laughing at me once again.” Then she straightened, making it clear she had not been amused by his earlier antics.
Perhaps he had misread that twinkle he had initially seen in her eye. Yet, it remained still despite her words. This woman was not easy to comprehend. “Again, my apologies,” he said, though he found it difficult to stop a smile from spreading across his lips. Her eyes did still twinkle. “I w
as only having fun and thought…”
George, the captain of The Topaz, walked in and approached the table. The spry man seemed to enjoy bowing in great, sweeping motions that would have done well for the theater, but in all reality, his over-dramatization was due more to lack of opportunities to practice than to a desire to be noticed. Matthew never required the crew to bow to him while they were on board—if he did, they would spend all their time bowing and would get no work done.
“Sorry to bother you, My Lord,” he said. “I’ve brought you a bottle of my finest wine to enjoy with your dinner.”
“Thank you, George,” Matthew said as the man placed an old, dusty bottle on the table. It had no label and had the look of something that was brought in on a smuggler’s boat, but he did not have the heart to decline the old man’s offer.
A steward arrived with plates of food, which he set on the table. Unlike George, he said little, leaving as soon as he could. At least one of his the crew knew when a man wished to be alone.
“My Lady,” George said with a bow to Miss Browning. Matthew found himself stifling a sigh Leave it to George to not understand when a man wished to be alone. “That’ll be the greatest lamb you’re ever goin’ to find. Saw the farmer kill it myself.”
Matthew buried his face in his hands as Miss Browning cringed. “Thank you,” Matthew said as he took the wine bottle from the man. “We appreciate your gracious offer of the wine.”
George gave them another of his theatrical bows. “Tis my pleasure, My Lord. Now, enjoy yer meal, and know that you’re in good hands.” And with that, he left the room.
Giving a shake of his head, Matthew poured the wine George had brought—if he did not drink it, George would be greatly hurt—and handed one of the glasses to Miss Browning. It did indeed have a pleasant smell, much better than he expected, and he lifted his glass. “To a safe journey back to England. May she be as beautiful as when we left her.”
Stranded With The Marquess (Regency Stories Book 1) Page 2