“I met a woman.”
“Really? Who was she?”
“I’d rather not say.” Margaret looked hurt. “It’s not that I don’t want you to know about her. Quite the opposite. I’d love to bring her here someday. It’s just that right now, she’s perfectly preserved in my mind, away from all this. I’d like to keep her there a while longer, at least until it’s feasible to bring her further into my life.”
“I understand. We all need a bright beacon. I’m glad you have one. I’ve been worried.”
“About me? You shouldn’t be. I hate to think you’re spending any time at all thinking about me.”
“I know what it was like for Richard to take over when your father died. At least then it had been expected. Richard knew from the time he was old enough to know anything that he would one day be in charge of the estate. Even with all the preparation and years of expecting it, the transition itself was quite a shock to him. There were many sleepless nights as he tried to adjust. All this has been unexpectedly thrust upon you with the added burden of a widow and two children, girls no less.”
“Stop, Margaret. You know I don’t think of you as a burden. I love the girls. I will see to it they have every advantage in life. You have my word on that. I can’t replace their father, but I’ll make sure their fortunes won’t suffer.”
Thick silence encompassed them. Margaret didn’t have to say what she was thinking. Michael was fully aware. What if Michael’s horse threw him tomorrow? What if tomorrow he died? He had no heir to protect his family. Edward, his second cousin whom Michael had never met, would inherit the estate. All Michael knew of him was what his father had told him, and there was a reason they never visited. Michael’s heartbeat was all that stood between his family and ruin.
“I’m not going to die, Margaret.”
“Richard would have said the same.”
He couldn’t refute Margaret’s statement. “At least you’d still have Mother. You know she’ll outlive us all. I shudder to think what she’d do to Death if he came knocking on her door.”
Margaret’s chuckle brought Michael some satisfaction. “Look at us. She’s survived losing a husband and a son, and you can bet she doesn’t spend her time feeling sorry for herself.”
“No, she doesn’t, but we can’t all be that strong. Sometimes I think she feels things so deeply they can’t surface on her face,” Michael said.
“That sounds like her.”
“We’ll get through this.”
“I know. To be honest, you might better serve the family by courting this woman in London. You have a better chance of producing an heir than I do of finding another husband.”
“There’s no need to think like that. I know I can’t provide the kind of security a husband could, but even if something were to happen to me, there’s ample money from my ships to support you even if the estate falls to someone else. Once I have an heir, it won’t even be a concern. No heir of mine would ever turn you out.” Of course, his ships would only be able to provide for them if they continued to be managed well. If something were to happen to him, he didn’t know if Margaret would be up to the task, especially with no one to guide her.
“You’re a good man, Michael, and more like Richard than you think. I have faith in you. Have you even written to this mystery woman since you’ve been home?”
“No.” Michael had tried the last couple of nights. During the day, he was too busy to think of penning a letter. At night, he wanted to, but with each mile he had traveled from London, it felt more and more as if Jocelyn had been a dream. It was easy to convince himself that she must have been. She seemed so separate from his life in Dover. Then again, his life in Dover seemed so separate from him. Maybe writing her would help.
“You should. If nothing else, you deserve happiness, Michael. I value your protection and the work you do for the family, but don’t let yourself get mired down in the sadness of this place. If this is the woman for you, she’ll appreciate whatever it is you write to her, whether you choose to unburden your heart to her or escape into your letters with happy thoughts of how things might be. I miss Richard more acutely than I can describe, but I find joy in remembering the times we shared. You need to seek your own joy.”
When Michael had been a child, he’d found Margaret to be terribly boring. However, he was beginning to appreciate her practical nature. Richard had found a good match in her. “How is it you ended up comforting me when it’s my job to take care of you?”
“You came here seeking comfort.”
“So did you.”
“No. I came to remember.” Her face turned to the fireplace again, her eyes losing their focus. Michael still worried for her. He was half scared he’d find her hanging from the rafters one day. She wouldn’t leave her daughters. Michael knew it was her sense of duty to her husband and children that kept her together.
Michael stood. “Would you like me to escort you back to your room?”
Margaret didn’t even look at him. “No, thank you. I’ll stay a little longer.”
Michael debated for a brief moment if he should stay with her, then thought better of it. She deserved her privacy. Michael took his candle and went back to his own room, but he didn’t head toward bed. He strode to his desk and took out a piece of paper. He didn’t know what he was going to write, only that he had been desperate for Jocelyn’s permission to correspond, and it was time to take advantage of her leave.
He chose to write what he felt, uncensored. He had told Jocelyn he wanted all of her. It was only fitting that he offer all of himself in return. When he had expressed everything in his heart—all the worries and hopes and fears that plagued him—he sealed the letter and went to bed. As soon as his head touched the pillow, his eyes closed, and peaceful sleep settled upon him for the first time in days.
* * *
Chapter 12
Jocelyn had been prepared for declarations of love, for solicitations for her affection, for offers to save her from her life of abject sin. Those were at least familiar to her. What she hadn’t been prepared for was the raw truth and vulnerability of Michael’s letters. It was so easy to imagine him sitting across from her as she read them.
When faced with such honesty in his correspondence, she could only respond in kind. There was no way to play her usual games with Michael. There were no empty flirtations, no engaging in repartee. Only truth existed between them, whether it took the form of amusing anecdotes and observations or deep-rooted insecurities and fears. While the letters made it harder for Jocelyn to brush Michael off the way she did all the other men who had similarly propositioned her, they made it almost effortless to reveal herself to him. Courage was easier to summon when she wasn’t looking into his eyes.
“What has you smiling so widely? A particularly exciting invitation?”
Jocelyn jumped in her seat in the parlor. She had been so absorbed in Michael’s latest letter that she hadn’t heard Lawrence enter. She put a hand to her chest. “Lawrence, I didn’t even know you were here. Where’s Anne? Why didn’t she announce you?” The little brat wasn’t useful for much.
“Don’t get too mad at the girl. I told her not to bother. She was in the middle of some mending, and I had her get back to it.” Lawrence crossed to her and kissed her cheek in greeting. He sat in the nearest chair and gestured to the letter in her hand. “Something interesting?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just some correspondence.” Lawrence gazed at her intently, lifting his eyebrows slightly in invitation to elaborate. “It’s one of my clients. He’s not in London now, but he enjoys writing to me, so I let him. I think he’ll be a good source of business whenever he’s back at court.” Jocelyn fidgeted in the silence that followed. Lawrence was the only man who could make her uncomfortable. His approval meant everything to her.
After a seemingly interminable pause, Lawrence spoke. “What’s his name?”
Jocelyn hesitated. She felt transparent around Lawrence, as if merely mentioning Michae
l’s name would reveal the extent of her feelings for him. Objectively, she knew there was nothing suspicious about keeping in touch with a client. There was nothing to hide. However, Jocelyn also knew if Lawrence was aware of the way her heart raced whenever she saw a letter waiting for her or the way Michael’s words reverberated in her head throughout the day, he would not approve. For a moment, she considered lying. It would be risky. No one knew her as well as Lawrence. She had never tried to pass a lie by him, and she wasn’t confident in her abilities. He had an uncanny way of seeing through her. Besides, even if she had the ability, she didn’t have the will. It was wrong to lie to the man who had been a father to her, given her everything she had. “It’s Baron Barwick. I don’t know if you remember, but he hired me for two nights at King’s Head. He didn’t have the chance to engage my services at court. I think he’d like to see me when he returns.” She hoped avoiding his Christian name made her voice stronger, more convincing. Surely Lawrence would accept her lie of omission.
“Ah, yes, Michael Barwick. He could be a good client. If we go to war with Spain or France, the king will need his ships. Always best to stay friendly with those the king needs.”
“Exactly.” A wise business decision. That’s all Michael needed to be.
* * *
Chapter 13
Lawrence cursed under his breath as he left Jocelyn’s house. At least she thought she’d fooled him. He knew better than to tip his hand. Something needed to be done. Lawrence had noticed the change in Jocelyn’s energy but had hoped it would pass. She had never once shown any interest in leaving the profession. Quite the contrary, she had mocked the girls who were foolish enough to leave for a man’s promises. Jocelyn knew Lawrence never took them back when they were inevitably abandoned and begging for work.
He couldn’t lose Jocelyn. She was too important. There had to be a way to permanently remove Michael Barwick from her life. He was of half a mind to run to Dover and dispatch the baron himself, but two hundred years as a vampire had taught him patience. Killing Michael would cause chaos in Dover. There was no heir that Lawrence knew of, and the port was too important to leave to chance. Besides, Michael might serve Lawrence’s purposes later. He was the first man to affect Jocelyn in any way. He could be a powerful tool. Death was too permanent. All Lawrence wanted was to remove the threat of Michael taking Jocelyn away.
At home, Lawrence wrote a message to Buckingham, requesting an audience with him and the king. He felt certain he could persuade the king to take care of his problem for him.
* * *
“Thank you for meeting with me, Your Majesty.” Lawrence bowed to King James and then nodded to Buckingham. “My Lord.”
“Sit, sit.” James sat at the head of a table with Buckingham on his left and gestured to the chair on his right.
“Thank you, Sire.”
“It’s not often you formally request an audience,” George said. “Don’t tell me you’re taking sweet Jocelyn away from us. If this is a negotiating tactic for a higher fee, you only need to ask.”
Lawrence chuckled. “No, no, nothing like that. Your Lordship and His Majesty have been more than generous in that regard. I’m only glad you still enjoy her company.”
“She’s made the transition from girl to woman beautifully. She’s a credit to womankind. If only all of her sex were as pleasant to be around.” Buckingham’s eyes were affectionate, and Lawrence was happy to see that his feelings hadn’t dampened at Jocelyn’s refusal of his offer to install her as his official mistress.
“Yes, I’m very proud of her.”
“Well if you’re not here on business, then what are you here for?” James leaned forward to snatch some grapes from a bowl on the table.
“I wanted to discuss Baron Barwick.”
“Barwick?” Buckingham’s voice betrayed his surprise.
“Yes. Michael.”
“Pity about his brother. Richard was an easy fellow to get along with: loyal, not at court enough to scheme or make enemies. From the little I’ve seen of Michael, he seems much the same,” James said.
“With one key difference: his ships. Speaking strategically, Richard’s death may have been beneficial to us.”
Buckingham’s eye glittered. “Yes, I had heard he has himself a little fleet.”
“Exactly. I don’t think he’s even aware of the power he could wield.”
“I still don’t understand why you wanted to meet with me.” James popped another grape into his mouth.
“He may not realize it now, but he will at some point. It’s important that you secure his loyalty, Sire. You want to make sure his money, ships, and port are firmly in your control. There’s one sure way to tie his wealth to you permanently: marriage. I propose that you bestow upon him an earldom. That will elevate him and bring him closer to you. As Earl of Dover, he would be of suitable rank to marry into the royal family. It wouldn’t appear at all odd for you to order his marriage. His family’s position is uncertain at the moment. He’ll see it as a boon to secure his future, and you’ll have gained the unwavering loyalty of a man who could be in a position to greatly influence your success in any future wars.”
“You seem to place a lot of value on this baron.”
“Sire, don’t you see?” Buckingham leaned forward, grabbing the king’s arm. Any other man would have been rebuked or worse for touching the king in such a manner, but Lawrence could see how James warmed to the touch. George knew what he was doing. “This is perfect. With that kind of support, we could fortify our position with Spain. If the marriage negotiations fall apart, then we’ll be better prepared for war. This will strengthen our hand in more ways than one.”
The king nodded along with Buckingham’s words. “Yes. Well, if you think it’s best, George, I agree.” James turned back to Lawrence. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention.”
“My pleasure, Sire. As you know, I’m forever in your service. I keep my eyes and ears open for ways to help, as do my girls.”
James nodded. “Buckingham, summon Baron Barwick to court, and let’s assemble a list of potential brides. No one too highly ranked, she only needs my family’s blood in her veins.”
“Yes, Sire.” Buckingham smiled widely. He wanted war with Spain. In one move, Lawrence had solved his own problem and ingratiated himself to the two most powerful men in England.
* * *
Chapter 14
Michael’s knee started to bounce the moment his coach entered London. He would have preferred to ride—it would have meant making the journey in one day instead of two—but it wasn’t practical. There was no telling how long he would be at court, so he had packed for an extended stay.
More than a month of corresponding with Jocelyn had left him eager to see her in the flesh once again. The summons from King James couldn’t have been better received. There was so much to tend to at home that it would be easy for him to stay busy for months without a visit to London. To be ordered by the king to come to the city that housed the woman he loved was a stroke of good fortune.
He knew he should wonder why he had been summoned, but he didn’t care. He supposed it had something to do with the interest in his ships and wealth and how he would manage Dover. It had dawned on him over the last several weeks exactly how much power he wielded. He owned more ships than any other man in England, and he controlled one of the most important ports. Not only that, he had the money to arm his men and ships should he want to. None of it mattered. Once his family’s future was secure, he’d be happy living with Jocelyn in a cottage by the sea.
Michael banged his fist on the roof of the coach. “Stop here.” As soon as the wheels halted, he opened the door and jumped out, looking up at the confused driver.
“I thought I was taking you to King’s Head, My Lord.”
“Aye. I need to stretch my legs. Here’s your payment in full, plus a little extra for your trouble. Take my things on to King’s Head, and arrange my lodgings for me. I trust you’ll be able to han
dle it?” Michael gave the man a small purse with double his fee. When the man felt the heft of the bag, his eyes widened.
“Yes. Thank you, My Lord.”
Michael nodded and started walking as the coach rolled away. Jocelyn’s home was just two streets over. He hadn’t informed her he was returning to London. It had happened so quickly that his letter wouldn’t have reached her much before he did, but he also didn’t want to give her a chance to start building up her defenses.
It would have been nice to freshen up a bit from the road, but excitement overcame him. Hopefully, she would be home. He jogged the last few paces to her door and knocked. The wait for someone to answer stretched to an unbearable length. Any further waiting was maddening at this point. After a second knock, a neatly dressed young girl answered.
“Is Mistress Jocelyn Parker at home?” He restrained himself from entering, although he did crane his neck around the girl, hoping for a glimpse of Jocelyn.
“Excuse me, but is she expecting you?”
Michael’s eyes settled on the young woman. Her forcefulness surprised him. He hadn’t planned on having to face a gatekeeper. “No, but I’m sure she’ll want to see me.”
“And who, exactly, are you?”
Impertinent little thing. His dress denoted him as a lord. “You can tell her that Baron Barwick is calling for her.”
The maid eyed him suspiciously. He supposed he should be grateful the maid wasn’t in the habit of allowing any man who knocked to enter. Given Jocelyn’s line of work, there was potential for dangerous situations.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow you in without permission. If you’ll wait here, I’ll see if my mistress is accepting visitors.”
Fates Entwined Page 6