Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One)

by Raven, Sandy

  “I’m sure,” she said, as she handed him another piece of orange. “So you are a part owner of a shipping company?” Lia asked.

  “Yes, I actually run the company from London, though my investments are wide and varied these days.” He motioned to Angus and had him come up to the wheel deck with them, when he arrived, Ren said, “I realize I have been remiss in giving the proper introductions. Permit me to rectify that, darling.” The endearment, publicly given, caught her off guard, but she had no time to react, for Ren continued, “Lia, this is my Uncle Angus. He is my mother’s brother, and has been a mentor to me for most of my youth. That is why you noticed the familiarity with which he addresses me. He is retired from sailing and manages operations of the company in Scotland. The two men you met in Genoa as my Captains, are actually my cousins, Cully and Flynn, Angus is their father. We are all equal partners in this shipping company founded by my maternal great-grandfather, who started a small trading company out of Aberdeen many years ago. Have I confused you yet, sweetheart?”

  “Not at all. You are fortunate to have such a large and loving family.”

  “Ah....” Ren let a sardonic little chuckle. “Only on my mother’s side”

  “Aye, on the Scots side, lass. A few of the lad’s English relatives might be better connected, but they’re not better people,” the gruff Scot said. “If I say so m’self.”

  Nearly the same size and height as her husband, the old seaman’s gray hair and beard were neatly trimmed and his skin weathered from his many years on the water and under the sun. When he smiled Lia could see a family resemblance. She thought of the captains on the other two ships and said, “Both of the young captains are your sons?”

  “Aye, I even claim the red-headed one,” Angus said.

  Ren laughed. “Yes, even Flynn, who cannot tolerate rough seas without getting sick, is part of the family.”

  Angus grew sober, then turned to Ren and said, “Have ye told her about the other side of your family yet?”

  “I was just about to do that,” her husband replied.

  “Good. It’s about time she knows what’s waitin’ for ye when ye get back to Town.”

  The old salt arched a brow at the wheel, Ren said, “I’ll stay here a while longer.”

  “My father had a younger brother who died many years ago. His son, my cousin, Thomas, is a year older than me. We grew up together, were tutored together, and went to Eton together. He was more than my cousin, he was my best friend. And along with Lord Michael Brightman, the three of us were some pretty smart mischief makers.

  “We were close. When I was nine, my mother died after my sister Elise was born. A few days later Thomas found his father dead. We mourned together for our parents. Then his mother remarried and moved with her new husband down to Cornwall. Thomas continued at Eton with us but didn’t do as well in his classes after that. He went to Oxford with us for a while, quit, and chose to go to Town and live off his allowance. By this time my father ascended to the title, and my maternal grandfather had died leaving me the shares of this company. Years later my father remarried, a lovely woman, Amelia, who gave birth to my youngest sister, Sarah, and whom Elise came to look upon as her mother.

  “After university, I went to work with Angus and my cousins, I sailed for a few years, until...,” he paused, sighing deeply, then saying, “until my father and stepmother were killed in a tragic accident.”

  He sighed again, and shifted his position. “Instantly my responsibilities went from near none, to almost overwhelming. Suddenly I was a young man—almost twenty-six years old—with no wife and no heirs. If something were to happen to me, my cousin, Thomas, would inherit all, the title, the fortune, everything. So I sought to correct the first issue right away, and after mourning my father, began the tedious task of finding a proper wife.”

  “There’s your first mistake,” Lia replied. “You weren’t looking with your heart open to love, but rather like an employer filling a position.”

  “Perhaps,” he grumbled, before going quiet again.

  “So, where is your cousin now? Is he protecting you from runaway horses as you cross the road?”

  Her husband let out a choked cough and stared at Lia as though she’d sprouted two heads.

  “Ah, no,” her husband said. “After he left school, I finished university. Thomas chose a life of leisure, expecting to have everything provided for him. I chose work, to increase the family coffers. While Michael was apprenticing in law, and I was away negotiating contracts with growers and textile manufacturers in the Caribbean, India and Africa, Thomas befriended the wrong sort. He didn’t really have the money to move in those circles, so he began to gamble.”

  Lia felt his heavy heart as he exhaled. This is the first time she’d witnessed his sadness. His cousin’s actions truly hurt him.

  “Thomas is currently the heir to my title and estates.” His gaze raked over Lia’s form, settling on her belly. She instinctively put her hand over her womb. “But hopefully, not for long,” he said.

  “I see.”

  “No, I don’t think you do,” Ren replied. “What I haven’t told you yet is that he’s a very desperate, dangerous man. He attempted to kill me while I was out on a hunt. My game keeper witnessed him running away after my horse was shot out from under me. After that, I asked for an inquest into the carriage accident that took my father and Amelia’s lives, as I was not in the country at the time.” He checked the binnacle off to the side, then said, “The findings were inconclusive.”

  “Do you think he killed them?”

  “I believe so. Yes.”

  “What do you think he will do when you return with a bride?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but you will be protected at all times. I promise you. When we arrive we will spend as little time as possible in London, and I shall take you to our home, the ducal seat, Haldenwood. Before I left I saw to it that my grandmother and sisters were well-protected, while the detectives searched for him.”

  “You left them? Did you not fear for their safety?” She was amazed that he would leave the country with his women at home.

  “No. It’s me he wants,” her husband replied. “Me, and whoever stands between he and the title and fortune.”

  Lia leaned back against the railing of the wheel deck, knowing she was now likely a target of his cousin. She wondered, too, if her life would ever return to the quiet idyll it once was.

  The afternoon before they were due to arrive in London, Ren opened the door of the cabin, to find Lia, clad only in her chemise nervously pacing the room. Her one trunk was open, and all of her dresses lay either on the bed, or over the rooms single chair. Her back was to him, and she never heard his entrance as she lifted first one dress, then another, and tossed them both back to the bed. She repeated this several times before he stopped her by clearing his throat.

  Lia’s head nearly hit a support beam overhead when she jerked upright in surprise. Her bright green eyes widened in shock, then relaxed upon realizing who it was. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you enter.” She held up one of her new dresses, a simple, pale rose muslin with an ivory lace overskirt from the high waist to the floor. Ren thought the square neckline would come daringly low. Too low for her to be seen outside of their bedroom. With Lia’s full breasts to fill it, the bodice would barely cover her dusky brown nipples.

  He shook his head. “I paid for something with such a daring decolletage?”

  “This dress covers more than any of the others! What am I to do?” Ren could see tears welling in those wonderful eyes of hers. “Whatever shall I wear to meet your family tomorrow? I don’t want them to think I’m an unfashionable simpleton without a clue of how to dress. Or worse, a puttana.”

  Ren shook his head, moved the dresses, and sat in the chair. “Don’t worry, we won’t be in London but a day. Two at most. I detest this time of year in the city. My sisters, Elise and Sarah, are with my grandmother in the country.”

  Lia exhaled, and
visibly relaxed, but it was only momentary.

  “I’m also afraid of the questions everyone will have. How will we explain our meeting? And marriage? If they knew that I was purchased by you, I will surely be shunned by society. So will you. Even a peer of the realm must adhere to certain societal mores.”

  Ren was touched that she would think of him. His mistresses, and later Margaret, certainly never thought beyond what he could give them, or do for them. He felt a stab of guilt as he remembered comparing her to them.

  “I’ve given this a great deal of thought, Lia. I’ve concluded that we should stick as close to the truth as possible, to prevent any questions that might arise later should our stories differ by any degree.”

  “How do I explain meeting you in the palace of Prince Hakim?”

  “You were there visiting your friend Maysun, a native of your country, who is one of the Prince’s wives.” When he saw her questioning gaze, he added, “They do not need to know she is a concubine.”

  Lia smiled. “You are right.”

  “You’ll say that we met, fell instantly in love, and wanted to wed as soon as possible.” He smiled. “The men will know why I married you the moment they see you.”

  Ren moved the pillows aside and sat on the bed, resting against the wall. “We then went directly to Genoa, where you had been living with a relative, and were wed by your priest, with the blessings of your aunt. No need to give her name at all. It may be a difficult stretch for us to imagine, but I don’t think anyone from my set is familiar with any obscure Italian nobility, so I do not foresee a problem there.

  “As your parents are deceased and you are responsible for your younger brother, we naturally brought him to England with us, to live together in harmony for the rest of our days.”

  She obviously understood the sarcasm tinging his voice. Lia nearly choked on his much-polished version of the truth, and sat on the edge of the bed, holding the rose muslin gown to her chest. “That’s quite a tale. I hope it will work.”

  “It will work,” Ren said confidently. “Your brother knows no more than that your aunt was cruel to you both, and that when we returned for him you argued. What head of a family doesn’t argue when their charge suddenly claims she wishes to marry a man they do not know?”

  “But, what if she begins to talk? And spreads tales and half-truths that would surely be fodder for the gossips? Even though she is still in Genoa, she knows many well-connected people, and I am afraid it is only a matter of time before her lies reach England. What would we do then?”

  “First, she doesn’t know who I am. And, anyone who knows me will believe what I say, or face my wrath should they spread such malicious lies. We counter her tales, with tales of our own. Such as her bouts with insanity, especially since the death of her husband, who squandered what was left of the family’s fortune, leaving them nearly destitute with only a title for her adolescent son, and hopes of a good match for her daughter.”

  Ren watched as his wife considered his words. “Do you understand, Lia?”

  She smiled. “Yes, and I will do my part to make this work.” She held another dress up for his approval. A pale blue-green with a daringly low-cut, rounded bodice. She looked at him curiously. “What about this one?”

  “Do you have a scarf, or fichu, to put into the neckline?” She shook her head. “Well then, I rather like the first. You are right, it looks like it will cover more than those others,” Ren motioned to the stack tossed over the trunk. “I will have a seamstress come to the house and take measurements for the rest of your wardrobe. You will need more than just these few dresses.”

  “But what do I wear tomorrow?”

  “Sweetheart, it really doesn’t matter what you wear. You’re my duchess now.”

  He had hoped his words would reassure her. Instead they brought on a fresh bout of nervous pacing.

  She stopped suddenly, her eyes wide with fear. “Oh my God!” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’d forgotten! I’m the wife of a duke! I do not play the silly games polite society is so fond of. What will everyone think of me?”

  “Not to worry, my dear,” he reassured. “We can spend a quiet season this year. Being newly married, everyone will understand.” He placed a hand over her lower belly. “Especially if you get with child.” She huffed and shoved his hand away and turned back to contemplate the outfits before her. “Although we will have to do the season next year for my sister’s come out,” he continued. “By then, you will have had plenty of time to acclimate to your station and my lifestyle. In a few months you will have a feel for the political undercurrent through the country. You’ll learn who is married to whom, and who holds power and influence over society. And I will never be far from your side, or someone might think to steal you away. Of course, then I’d have to kill him.”

  Lia huffed, then tossed the dress she held at him. A fluffy cloud of white cambric landed on his face, as she began to ramble on in Italian about how men never understand anything.

  Ren draped the dress over the back of the chair and smiled as he left the cabin to fetch a bottle of wine. Wine always calmed her. It had also proved to be a potent aphrodisiac with his little wife.

  Yes, this situation called for a bottle of his best. And several hours with no interruptions.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The next morning Ren’s ships sailed up the Thames, winding their way to the Port of London. Lia stood next to her husband on the wheel deck of Warlock, which followed Sea Witch and Sorceress into port. She watched in amazement as they crept past hundreds of other ships and barges of all sizes, loaded with every manner of cargo. Canals, large and small, branched off from the river on both sides. Buildings stacked in rows lined the river, some as tall as five stories. The three ships in their group continued slowly upriver, finally furling their sails and dropping anchor near the London Bridge, behind a magnificent four-story, stone-faced structure which Ren identified as The New Custom House.

  Throngs of people moved about the dock. Longshoremen loaded and unloaded crates, customs officials inspected cargo, businessmen supervised their investments, children scurried about, and women of a dubious profession sought clients.

  Lia shivered in her cloak, and Ren wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to his warmth. For most of the past four days, it had either rained or misted lightly, leaving everything damp. It seemed even her very bones were wet, which only magnified the chill in the air.

  “Spring in London is dreary for the most part,” Ren said, as they stood near the rail facing the customs office. “But it’s not like this at Haldenwood. Right now, the pastures are green and filled with lambs and calves cavorting near their mothers. The sun seems to shine more outside of London, too. Flowers are beginning to bloom and, more importantly, the air is fresher.”

  “I have noticed the smell.” Lia turned into his embrace, burying herself in his warmth. “I just assumed it was the odor of the docks.”

  “It does get better the further from the river you get, but not much. Everyone says you get used to it, eventually. I never did. That’s why I reside at Haldenwood, only coming to Town when necessary for business.”

  “I can see why. How far away is your home, this—” Lia struggled for the correct pronunciation. “—Hal-den-wood?”

  “On horseback it takes me four to four and a half hours. Although I did do it in about three once, and nearly ruined a good horse in the process. It’s about six to six and a half hours by coach, depending on how many times we have to stop.”

  Lia turned a curious gaze to him.

  He grinned down at her and explained, “It never fails that one or the other of my sisters needs to stop every two hours. It wouldn’t be so bad if they could coordinate their need to relieve themselves.”

  Realization of what he meant caused Lia to smile. “I shall restrict my needs to only the direst of emergencies, Your Grace,” she said, turning away from him.

  “Just don’t make yourself uncomfortable doing
so, Your Grace,” he whispered into her ear.

  She noticed the tinge of humor in his voice when he used her new title. It was another subtle reminder that she was now his wife. Not that she needed reminding. Her nerves had been doing that for the past twenty-four hours, making her queasy at the thought of facing life as a member of the nobility now, as it was not something she’d expected.

  Ren led her down to the main deck. Angus waited for them, holding a small johnboat steady and even with the deck.

  “I’ll lower ye after ye all get in,” the old Scot said to Ren.

  “Has someone sent for my carriage?”

  “Aye, Flynn’s sent a lad up to the house a’ready to notify ’em of yer arrival.”

  Ren lifted Lia by the waist. The heat from his large hands holding her warmed her insides, reminding her of his tender loving that very morning. Over the past three weeks, Lia had come to realize that it didn’t matter how the two of them met, she was happy now that he was in her life. She was starting to think there might be an agreeable future in store for them. It was what she’d been praying for since they’d married. He set her carefully down on one of the seats in the small boat, and climbed in after her, taking the seat opposite, facing her. Two crewmen also climbed in, and once all were settled, Angus ordered the boat lowered to the water.

  The sailor behind Lia used an oar to push them away from Warlock then began to row them toward the crowded dock. Ren pointed out some of the major landmarks to her. “This first bridge is London Bridge. Just past that, if you can see it, is the Southwark Bridge. It’s still under construction, but should be completed soon.”

  She tried to get a glimpse of the new bridge through the forest of masts and sails in front of them, but could not. When they pulled up alongside the pier at Billingsgate, one crewmen climbed onto it, and tied them off, while the other held them in place. Shivering from the cold, damp winds, Lia remained as still as she could, afraid to fall into the murky waters of the river should the boat tip over. Ren was next out. When he reached the dock, he extended his hand to her and lifted her up.