Captivating the Captain (Scandals and Spies Book 6)

by Leighann Dobbs

  Charlie hadn’t been told a lot about the late French spymaster, only that the Crown had been trying to catch him for over a year and learn his secrets, but he’d been elusive. Even dead, he was considered to be a major threat to the country. Charlie couldn’t fathom how. Surely he couldn’t truly orchestrate a coup from the grave. He must have been bluffing.

  For some reason, Lucy didn’t think so. Whereas Morgan’s information about Monsieur V had been sparse, Lucy had taken the time to tell Charlie a bit more about her misadventures only a couple of months back. It was thanks to Lucy that the former French spymaster had been captured at all, even if his captivity hadn’t lasted long. Lucy seemed to think the man was capable of almost anything.

  Judging by Mama’s grim expression, she agreed. “It is dire, Charlie. No matter what the cost, we must discover what your father learned about the plot so we can stop it.”

  Charlie sat straighter. “Then we must turn around.”

  “Don’t fret.” Mama patted Charlie’s hand. “This is only a delay. Captain Graylocke will help us. That letter we have from Lord Strickland ensures his cooperation. Once he thinks it over, he will realize that he has no choice.”

  4

  Admiral Jermyn handed the missive back to Gray, his blue eyes hard. Although he had twenty or thirty years on Gray, the only sign of aging was a bit of white at his temples and the crow’s feet around his eyes. “That is Lord Strickland’s seal. The order is legitimate.”

  In the admiral’s cramped dining room aboard the Royal Justice, Miss Vale preened next to Gray. The limited space meant she stood close enough to him that her shoulder brushed his arm every time she shifted. She had changed from her blue dress into a neatly pressed beige one and dressed her hair. They were presenting themselves to a navy admiral, not attending a ball. As before, her mother stood back, silently observing and seeming to fade into the woodwork.

  Until this moment, Gray would have considered the meeting to have gone well. He’d secured the French barque for his second-in-command, reported the location of the friendly ship in need of a mast repair, and secured the admiral’s assurance that help would be sent. He’d expected to be sent back to his regular patrol.

  Instead, he had to contend with a gloating woman next to him. She rearranged the curl next to her cheek and smiled. “Will Captain Graylocke be escorting me to France, or will you, sir?” She was brazen. Even Gray wouldn’t talk to an admiral that way.

  Admiral Jermyn didn’t seem pleased. “Graylocke will do it. I’ll see our new prisoners safely to land.”

  Hell and damnation. Gray tensed. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  Miss Vale glared at him, as if she dared Gray to deny her request.

  The admiral’s expression hardened, but he nodded. “Permission granted.” He sounded cautious.

  Gray hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He ignored the glare leveled in his direction by the spirited young woman. Why was her wedding so important? Even if she was intimately connected to his family, he didn’t see it as his duty to escort her. It was his duty to ensure that the French didn’t invade England.

  “Sir, it would be folly to take the King’s Grace so close to France. We’re a large ship and easily recognizable. It could exacerbate tensions between us and start a battle we’re stretched too thin to accommodate.” He bit his tongue before he succumbed to the desire to tell the admiral what to do next. As much as he would love to request that Miss and Mrs. Vale be transferred to a messenger ship or even a civilian vessel headed for France, his training prevented it. He was speaking with a superior officer. He toed the line simply by expressing his opinion in such a matter-of-fact manner.

  The admiral nodded. “Very well, then. Take the barque.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Gray’s voice was weak. That was not his ship. He glanced to his left, where Stills stood with his back as straight as a pole. Gray couldn’t tell a single one of the soon-to-be captain’s thoughts from his impassive expression. He looked like a statue, as if he hadn’t even heard.

  Yet, it would be Stills’s ship Gray would be taking command of, and he wondered what would come of the King’s Grace.

  Admiral Jermyn barked, “You heard me, Captain. You need to get to France unnoticed, and here we have a French ship newly fallen in our laps. A stroke of providence.”

  Once again, Gray glanced toward his former second-in-command but found nothing approaching an ally in his expression. In fact, he stared straight ahead, over the admiral’s left shoulder. Gray said, “What of the King’s Grace, sir? I’m her captain. I can’t fathom leaving her behind.”

  “The King’s Grace will be returned to patrol. I need her as she was.”

  That was precisely why Gray didn’t want to have to do this inane errand. Even if the Crown’s Commander of Spies had given this mission his seal of approval, Gray didn’t believe for a second that the spy network had a stake in Miss Vale’s marriage. More likely, his mother or brother had spoken with the spymaster directly to ensure a personal favor. If she was a few days later than expected in reaching the continent, no harm would befall her.

  Gray squared his shoulders and asked, “Under whose command, sir? Are you stripping me of command?”

  “Far from it, Captain. Your ship and crew will await your return. I’ll have my second-in-command, Wilson, transfer to the King’s Grace temporarily, to oversee the crew. In fact, he’ll ferry the French prisoners to Brighton. Can’t have you taking them along, or you’d risk a mutiny.”

  Gray glanced at Stills again. This time, the man seemed a bit agitated. It didn’t show on his face, but the way he held himself was stiffer than usual.

  Even though it might earn him a reprimand, Gray protested one last time. “What of Stills, sir? You’ve given him command of the barque.”

  “And he’ll have it, after you see Mrs. Vale and her daughter safely to their destination. You’re the senior officer here, Captain. You have command.” Admiral Jermyn locked gazes with Gray. “See that it’s done quickly. I don’t want to have Lord Strickland breathing down my neck for unnecessary delays. Dismissed.”

  The admiral’s voice was as clear a dismissal as his words. He would brook no further argument on the subject. Gray bowed, followed by Stills. Even Miss Vale curtsied, proving that she had some semblance of gentle manners hidden away. Gray held the door for the women to precede him to the deck.

  The moment he shut the door behind him, he faced Stills. He clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  Stills smiled. “Think nothing of it, sir. It’ll be as though nothing has changed.”

  His manner didn’t seem sour or resentful, but Gray didn’t see how he couldn’t be. The man had just had a command dangled in front of him and then taken away again in the blink of an eye. And that wasn’t to mention the fact that Gray had the challenge of commanding an unfamiliar ship that would be understaffed, with only a handful of the crew he was accustomed to commanding. The other men would be comprised of crew from the admiral’s vessels.

  Having said his piece, Gray steered himself toward the King’s Grace to collect his trunk. He would need it on the other vessel, along with his navigation tools. The moment he stepped foot on his ship, he found himself cornered by the brazen Miss Vale.

  She radiated smugness as she tipped her face up to his. “If you’d only trusted me, we wouldn’t have had to waste so much of your time. I wouldn’t lead you astray, Anthony.”

  Gray gritted his teeth and watched her walk away. He very much feared that she would lead him astray. For all her family connection to him, he didn’t trust her at all. The odd feeling deep in the pit of his stomach told him she was much more than a pretty, innocent face.

  5

  The French captain’s quarters were more cluttered than Anthony’s and therefore much more interesting. However, they were also smaller, so Charlie wouldn’t be able to fit in the bed alongside her mother. She’d been given the second-in-co
mmand’s quarters instead, with Anthony displacing the next-most-important officer on the ship. He hadn’t seemed happy about his cramped accommodations. Frankly, Charlie didn’t much care to spend more time in her allotted cabin than necessary, either. There was scarcely room in there to breathe, and not much more breathing space in the captain’s quarters, where her mother would be staying.

  In order to avoid brushing against one another while Charlie rooted through the French captain’s belongings in search of anything thrilling or adventurous, Mama had to sit on the bed and keep her legs on the coverlet. They chatted while Charlie indulged her curiosity.

  “You still have that letter?” Mama asked.

  “Oh. Yes.” Charlie straightened and tugged the missive from Lady Graylocke out of her bodice. She passed it to Mama for safekeeping.

  “Good.” Mama smoothed the page on her lap but didn’t put it away for the time being. “We’ll need this when we reach France.”

  Their destination was a small port town with a population of no more than five hundred. It was such an insignificant blip on the map that few remembered that it existed. Mama knew it to be a hotbed of smuggling activity between France and England. If Papa wanted to escape the country undetected, there was his best chance at doing so. However, the Duke of Tenwick had learned that French authorities were hunting in that area. Whether they hunted smugglers or Papa, Charlie didn’t know. They had to get to the port quickly.

  She sat on the bed next to Mama. “I don’t see how Madame Renault is going to help. Aside from giving us shelter, I mean. She won’t know where to look for a spy. Besides, we won’t be able to confess our true reason for visiting France.”

  Instead, Charlie would have to pretend that she was getting married to a Frenchman she had never met. To those who knew her, it was laughable. If she were truly on her way to an altar, she would have to be carried on board kicking and screaming. She would sabotage the ship—and beg Anthony for his help getting away from France, not to it.

  Charlie wanted new experiences. Even if it irked her to have to conceal her true purpose behind a ludicrous lie, at least she was finally getting the adventure she’d always dreamed about. She would see places outside England, the open sea air, a sleepy French port town. It was thrilling.

  “You’ll have to keep up the ruse when we reach France,” Mama warned. “If Madame Renault cannot further our search, I’ll need you to keep her distracted while I search.”

  Charlie bit her lip to stifle a sigh. Lady Graylocke, for all her generosity in recommending her friend and sending along a letter of introduction, couldn’t possibly know the rigors of unearthing a spy who didn’t want to be found.

  Morgan, Lady Graylocke’s son, had insisted his mother be kept in the dark as to the true nature of their expedition. Lady Graylocke knew Charlie well enough by now to realize that an arranged marriage was a sham of an excuse, so Mama had taken Lady Graylocke aside and explained some of the situation but not all of it. Charlie’s father was not dead, as was presumed, but alive, and now that they believed him to be in France, they had to find him. To Charlie’s astonishment, Lady Graylocke had made less of a fuss over Charlie accompanying her mother than Mama had. She’d simply given them the letter and instructions to present themselves to Madame Renault so she might ease their way. Charlie shouldn't have been surprised, though, because Lady Graylocke was a gracious, accommodating, and generous person. She was a good friend to Charlie and her mother and would help in any way she could.

  But Lady Graylocke was a former duchess. What good would a peer do in this situation? Unfortunately, Mama was right. Most likely, Charlie would have to act the pliant fiancée while Mama claimed all the adventure and searched for Papa.

  Charlie took a deep breath. As long as he was found, did it matter which of them did the deed? “Once we reach land, will we go there directly?”

  Mama answered calmly. “I believe that will be best. We aren’t locals, so if the town is as small as I am led to believe, even if we speak perfect French, we will be remarked upon.” She raised her eyebrows at her daughter. “You do not speak perfect French.”

  Charlie grimaced. “I studied before we left.” It had been years since she’d been taught the language, and most of the vocabulary had slipped from her mind.

  “And you should continue while we’re aboard the ship,” Mama chided.

  The last thing Charlie wanted to do was to be cooped up with a book while there was adventure to be had up on deck. The last crew with whom they had traveled had not treated Charlie’s curiosity generously. She still didn’t know much more about how a ship worked than which mast was called the mizzenmast, and since this new ship had more masts than the last, she couldn’t even point that one out. Nevertheless, Charlie pretended that she intended to study more French as she slipped out of the captain’s quarters. The open sea breeze called to her, and she never made it back to her cabin.

  Didn’t Mama understand? Excitement awaited beyond wooden walls, not inside them. It was adventure that Charlie hoped to find.

  Hell and damnation, what is Charlie Vale doing above deck? Gray gritted his teeth as he crossed the rolling floorboards, slick with sea spray. His body naturally adjusted to the ebb and flow of the waves—unlike Miss Vale, who appeared to be struggling to keep her balance even while standing still. She laughed and batted her eyelashes at Lieutenant Stills, who should have been overseeing the men—men who were almost certainly admiring Miss Vale’s feminine form.

  Although the rain had stopped for the moment, gusts of wind molded the dress to her body, showing every contour. The breeze teased out locks of her hair to tickle the column of her neck. Although she apparently had no sense of manners or propriety, she was lovely.

  Gray couldn’t speak for the men assigned to the barque from the admiral’s ship, but if they were anything like the navy men he commanded, they were greedy for female companionship. If Miss Vale insinuated herself next to the wrong person at the wrong time, she might be in danger. If he was stuck escorting her to France, he would damn well ensure that she arrived safely. That meant none of this strolling unescorted above deck.

  As he approached the woman and her companion, Stills, the lieutenant laughed. “It’s hard to say what would fit her. I might call her the Veiled Smile. Unless you can think of a better alternative.”

  Miss Vale laughed prettily. “You flatter me.”

  “How do you know I am referring to you? Perhaps I’ve taken a shine to your mother.”

  The young woman laughed again. Her blue eyes sparkled in the gray light sifting from between the clouds. “Well played, Mr. Stills.”

  Lieutenant Stills.

  He didn’t correct her.

  She tapped her index finger against her lips, drawing Gray’s attention to them. Yes, his crew were animals starved for female company. Especially Gray.

  “Why not a name that includes luck or fortune?” she suggested. “It was our good fortune that you happened upon us in time to save us, after all.”

  Gray gritted his teeth. So the maddening woman was willing to admit that she had, in fact, been saved by their timely arrival. However, she wasn’t willing to admit her acknowledgement or gratitude to the man who had saved her—him.

  “It was our pleasure, Miss Vale, I assure you.”

  Gray stormed up to the pair and cut the conversation short. “Miss Vale—”

  She smiled up at him brightly. “Anthony! We were just contemplating what Mr. Stills here intends to name his ship.”

  “Lieutenant Stills,” Gray corrected between gritted teeth. “Soon to be Captain Stills, when I am no longer aboard the vessel. Address him with respect.”

  Miss Vale’s eyes widened. She licked her lips, once again turning his attention to the shape of her mouth. She turned to the lieutenant. “Forgive me, M—Lieutenant Stills. I meant no disrespect.”

  Stills flashed her a smile. “Don’t worry your head over it, Miss Vale. I took no offense.”

  Gray gripped her by
the elbow and steered her toward the entrance to the deck below. She started to fight him but lost both her breath and her footing when the ship rolled due to another wave.

  For a brief moment, Gray transferred his arm to her waist, holding her upright. Her body touched his intimately, reminding him of the pleasure to be found in holding a woman. He resisted. Releasing her the moment she regained her footing, he ushered her to the ladder leading below.

  Although the captain’s quarters abutted the deck, in order to reach those belonging to the officers, they had to climb down a ladder into the belly of the ship. The narrow corridor beneath the entrance was punctuated by the doorways to the various cabins, one of which Miss Vale should have been occupying at that very moment. Gray followed her down the ladder, clenching his jaw when she rounded on him at the bottom.

  “Have you lost your way, Miss Vale?”

  “Charlie,” she snapped. “And no, I haven’t. You just happen to be between me and where I’d like to go.”

  He clasped his hands behind him. “You aren’t safe above deck. Please remain in your cabin, and I’ll send for you the moment we come within view of France.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. The light from above didn’t penetrate far into the cramped corridor. Shadows swathed behind her, making it seem as though they were enveloped in darkness and privacy. The creaks of the ship and footsteps of the sailors seemed distant.

  “I am perfectly safe,” she told him. “Far be it from me to lounge in a stuffy cabin when I could be above!”

  He took a deep, steadying breath. You are addressing a lady. Act like it. He clasped his hands hard. “I’m afraid you must remain in your cabin. That was not a request.”

  “Anthony…”

  “I don’t believe I gave you leave to call me by my Christian name.”

  She scowled. “We’re practically brother and sister. You’ll have to learn to live with it.”