Dangerous Pursuit (Lords 0f Whitehall Book 1)

by Ann Chaney

  He entered the galley to find the cook and the cabin boy preparing a pot of tea. “May I bother you for a pitcher of water and a cloth for my bunkmate. First voyage for the chap.”

  “Casting up his insides, is he?” the cook asked.

  “Yes. The water and cloth?

  “Sammie, you heard the gentleman. A pitcher of water and a cloth. You take that kettle along with the bread and cheese. Empty the chamber pot.”

  Soon enough, Richard and the boy headed back to Serena. Neither spoke as they slowly navigated the passageway as the ship rose and fell in the stormy sea.

  “I don’t hear nothing. Your friend must have emptied his insides but good,” the boy stated the obvious.

  “Shall we see what has happened?” Richard opened the cabin door. The room was dark and smelled horrid. The boy slipped around him, grabbed the chamber pot and left him to deal with Serena. He’d be sure to give the boy a hefty payment for his help.

  Serena was back on her bunk with her back to the door. He hoped she was asleep. Resting was what she needed now. Best for her to rest as much as she could. He wasn’t looking forward to what had to come next. A dosing of his witch’s brew. If she wanted to be at her best when they landed in Lisbon, she’d agree. First, he’d give her a mug of the hot tea and a slice of bread. After she ate the crackers, he’d give her a healthy dose of the tonic. Only then would he share the cheese with her.

  A deep sigh broke through the silence in the cabin. “You never said what you intend to do with me. As I said, I can explain, or rather, I would if I did not feel so wretched. Will this ship rock so all the way to Lisbon?” she croaked.

  “I wish I could tell you when the storm will play out. I can’t. We may be in the bowels of the storm the entire voyage. The only good to come out of such a circumstance will be the crossing will be shorter due to the high winds in our sails.”

  “Wonderful. If you have any compassion for me, you’ll take my pistol and shoot me. All I ask is you take my body back to England, so Aunt Philly will have a grave to visit. Father and Thorne have never been home long enough to visit me alive, so I doubt they will when I’m dead.”

  Richard laughed. She always did enjoy a bit of drama. “Serena, stop talking such nonsense. A bout of seasickness is horrid I admit but you’ll live. Sit up and drink this.”

  She rolled over and glared at him. “What’s in that mug?”

  “Tea with a heaping spoonful of sugar. No milk. I have some crackers our cook makes for my voyages. I, too, suffers from a poor constitution for sea travel. You must trust me to take care of you. As for you being on this ship, unchaperoned, we’ll discuss that when you are feeling better.”

  She took the mug then sipped the warm brew. He handed her one of his crackers. “Eat this. I have more.”

  Serena drank all the tea and ate three crackers before waving him away. “Enough, my insides are hurting again.”

  Richard took the mug from her and sat it on the edge of her bunk before reaching up into his bag and pulling out his bottle. He measured the brew into the mug.

  “What’s that? I don’t like the smell.”

  “A cure for your indisposition. On my first voyage for Whitehall, I was miserable with sickness. When I returned to London, I told mother I’d never go to sea again. Mother doesn’t accept failure from anyone. Our cook’s family were fishermen off Dover for generations. Mother knew if anyone had a medicine, Cook did. The old girl wrote to someone in Dover who sent her a family concoction. My first act when boarding a ship is dosing myself with Cook’s brew. Now, sit up. Eat another cracker then drink this. Trust me, you’ll feel much better if you do.”

  Serena gave him a doubtful look, but she did eat the cracker he handed her. She finished off the biscuit then nodded for him to proceed.

  He held out the cup of tonic to her and she sniffed. “I must caution you, the drink is the worst tasting brew I’ve ever put in my mouth, but it works. I promise the potion will settle your stomach.”

  “Smells like salt.”

  “I would venture forth the theory that saltwater is the base for the rest of it. And no, I have no notion what constitutes the rest of it. I find the best way to drink it is to hold my nose like Nurse used to do then swallow it on one gulp.

  Serena puckered up, took the metal cup, pinched her nose, and tossed back the brew in one swallow. Her eyes lit up with fire while she gasped and breathed fumes of the noxious concoction into his face.

  Serena threw the cup at him. “Are you trying to kill me with that stuff? I have never felt such a flame in my throat. That brew burnt my insides all the way down.”

  “You may want to stop squealing like a girl.”

  He picked up the pitcher of water and poured a bit into the mug to rinse away the remains of the foul liquid before pouring the mug full of fresh water. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel much better.”

  She took the mug drinking the water down in one gulp.

  “Are you feeling better? Stomach not rolling around as much. You are improved. Am I right?”

  Serena sat on the bed for a moment without speaking. He reached for her mug and filled it again. She drank down the water and seemed to wait for something to happen. After a few moments, she handed him the cup back and smiled.

  “Amazing, once we return to London, we must set your cook up in business.”

  “I’ve tried. She says no. I stopped asking when I realized if she did start selling her magical brew, she’d no longer be our cook. Don’t want to lose her. She dotes on me. I finally gave up.

  “There’s still fresh water. I have a cloth. I’ll step out and find myself some breakfast while you avail yourself of the water and your tooth powder. Doing so will make you feel almost human again. You’ll need your strength for the coming days.” He patted her knee and headed for the door. “There’s a pot of tea there. A bit of bread with cheese. You may want to eat the bread first and wait a bit before trying the cheese. Take small bites.”

  “You aren’t mad at me?” she asked as he opened the door.

  He took pleasure in the strong timbre of her voice. “We’ve much to discuss.”

  Serena got off the bunk and moved over to the pitcher of water and washing bowl. She did the best she could to remove the foul odor from her body. After re-wrapping her bosom, she put on clean linen and her breeches. She moaned as she made use of the tooth powder. Finally, she felt whole again!

  She poured herself a mug of tea and sipped the hot liquid. Nothing has ever tasted so good. She relished the soothing warmth all the way down her insides. Only then did she break off chunks of the bread. She bit into the bread and found it still warm from the oven. Richard was right, she didn’t trust her stomach to keep the cheese down, just yet.

  Tired, Serena went back to her bunk and curled up with her back to the cabin door, trying to get warm. She wondered how long Richard would stay gone.

  “Good, I see you’ve had some bread. Rest is the best remedy of all.”

  She rolled over to face the cabin spun around to find Richard standing in the doorway. Merciful heavens, the man could move with the quiet of a cat.

  Richard entered the cabin, closed the door then slid the lock home. He moved over to the small narrow opening and peered out.

  “The captain says the storm should be ending soon. He can see blue sky on the horizon. Our arrival time in Lisbon will be after midnight three days hence.” He turned back to her. “Are you feeling more the thing?”

  “Yes, you were right. I do feel much better.”

  “I’ve considered our situation. The best course is for you to remain on board until I locate Arnold.” He paused. “However, I know the moment I disembark, you’ll be on my heels causing more trouble. Which means I’m taking you with me. If you do get into trouble, I’ll be there to save your scrawny neck yet again.”

  “One never knows, I may be the one saving you.”

  Richard let loose an inelegant snort. “You may have Moreham fooled, but I know you f
ar better than he does. You are trouble. Your father did you no favors by seeing you educated as well as any gentleman. When was the last time you faced down a man, hellbent on killing you? Don’t say in Staines-on-the-Thames. That encounter was tame compared to some of the altercations I’ve experienced. I’m alive today because of sheer physical strength, a vigilance for danger and years of experience as an agent.”

  He turned around and continued to speak. His voice so soft she leaned forward to catch his words.

  “Every stranger I meet, I assume has sought me out to kill me.” He walked over to stand in front of her. Richard reached out and touched her cheek. “No, my sweeting, I have no doubt, you will be a hindrance in my search for Arnold. My greatest fear, you’ll get us killed.”

  He opened the door, leaving her alone, sitting on the bunk, speechless.

  For a single moment, she was frozen in place. His words tumbling around in her head. With each passing moment, she got angrier. How dare he dismiss her as a nodcock? Her skill with firearms far exceeded his own. As for her mental abilities, she was the one who sorted out all the false trails Arnold and his friends had put in their path. No doubt, there would be some of the same in Portugal. If she remained behind, who would decipher those traps?

  Richard may not want to admit it, but she was an integral part of this endeavor. Men could be so intractable at times. At that very moment, she was glad she remained unmarried. She’d show Richard Weatherington once and for all she was as good as he was. Then, when he admitted so, she’d twist him every way she could until he acknowledged he loved her.

  There was a saying about eating your cake and having it too. She’d never understood what those words meant, but she did now. She’d aid Richard in capturing Arnold. Richard would be forced to acknowledge her value ergo the first bite of cake. When he professed his love for her, there would be a wedding cake.

  Her victory would be so sweet.

  Chapter 12

  Richard stepped out of the cabin to find himself chest to chest with The Vigilant’s captain, Josiah Fleming. This was his first trip on the ship since the captain took command. The captain was known to be of good moral character. Of course, it went without saying the man chosen to captain Sir Perceval’s personal conveyance would be the most skilled sailor known to Whitehall.

  “Morning, Captain. Rather rocky.” Richard hoped the man’s dire countenance had nothing to do with Serena.

  “Weatherington.” The captain gave the door behind Richard a pointed stare. “Join me in my cabin.” The captain turned on his heel and headed forward.

  Richard rolled his eyes and followed. Ship captains tended to be dictatorial. That fact gave him dyspepsia when he had to deal with one of them. He did not like being under another’s thumb, especially when the only way to escape was to the watery depths of the English Channel.

  Fleming opened the door to his quarters and motioned for Richard to enter before following him inside. The captain waved his hand to the table and chairs in the middle of his cabin. Once Richard sat down, the captain closed the door taking his seat across from him.

  “I will cut to the crux of our problem. Your bunkmate is a woman. From the sound of her voice, the lady is highborn and educated.” Fleming raised his hand to gainsay him from speaking. “Don’t give me the contrived explanation Whitehall created. I’ve heard more than my fair share since accepting this command. I want your assurance you’ll be responsible for her until we return to London.”

  How did the man know?

  Fleming’s gaze narrowed as if he could read Richard’s thoughts. “Weatherington, do I look like a fool? I could hear a young woman’s voice through the door.”

  “We’re on assignment—”

  “An assignation seems the more likely scenario. As I said, I’ve seen it all.”

  Grasping at straws and remembering Moreham’s plan to use Alice Maynard in Serena’s place, he improvised. “The woman is an actress employed by Moreham. Decision was made to bring her along, as a secondary plan. She’ll accompany me ashore.”

  As the words flowed from his mouth, Richard said a prayer that Serena never learned about this conversation. Her retribution against him for maligning her reputation would be swift and painful.

  The captain reared back in his seat, quirked an eyebrow, and nodded to the closed door. “Samuel, my cabin boy, says she is sick. He said he spoke to you this morning. When she did not appear in the galley to break her fast, I assumed the worst. This is my ship. I don’t take kindly to being left in the dark.”

  “I shared a remedy for seasickness. She is fine now. First time at sea and all that.”

  “I don’t care, just as long as your friend, as you call her, does not get up to any mischief on my ship.” The captain waved his hand towards the door to dismiss him. “We will be in the Bay of Biscay by late day after tomorrow. The sea will calm. Should be dockside by sunrise day the next morning. You’ll disembark as soon as the gangplank is lowered. Tell your companion her discomfort does have an end in sight. Sometimes, the mere thought of reaching land helps with the sickness.”

  Fleming waved his hand toward the door. Richard took his leave and made his way to the ladder to above decks. He needed some air. He inched his way midships to the mast and plastered his body against the beam. He refused to move any closer to the ship’s railing. Too high. He trained his eyes on the white caps ebbing and flowing in the distance.

  His heart slowed down as he watched the white tipped waves roll past. If not for the massive sea lifting the corsair up and down, he would have remained against the mast until ordered below decks. Standing there, he mulled over the options when they made Lisbon.

  A niggle of guilt wormed its way into his thoughts. He shouldn’t have said what he did to Serena. Why the mere sight of the woman turned him into an arrogant, full of his own importance twit, he’d never understand.

  That tiny bit of guilt grew. Yes, she could fire a weapon as well if not better than he and his fellow agents. Yes, she possessed an uncanny ability to interpret a man’s thoughts. Though, he believed her gift of deciphering lies was simply her ability to detect when a fellow was untruthful.

  He pushed away from the mast and headed below decks. He’d never understand how she managed to take all the wind from his sails. The woman hadn’t uttered a word. He’d been the instigator filled with puffed up righteousness for speaking the truth. He didn’t do anything wrong, but as his father had told him when he reached his majority when dealing with a woman always apologize. Resigned to his fate, Richard Richard made his way down the ladder to do as his father counseled…to ask for forgiveness.

  She opened the door before he could reach for the door handle. Serena stood back so he could enter the cabin. “Where have you been? I thought you were coming right back?”

  “The captain surmised you were a woman. He wanted answers. I gave him a few.”

  “What kind of answers did you share with the captain?”

  “Not the truth, I can assure you of that. I told him you were here as a secondary plan.”

  “I assume you told him I was Miss Maynard?” Serena asked. “I’ve assumed Miss Maynard’s identity rather than she assume mine. Very Shakespearean of you.”

  Richard threw his hands in the air. His face contorted with frustration. He swiped at his face before speaking in resignation.

  “Only you would take such a light view of a potentially disastrous turn of events. I had to tell the man something! I couldn’t tell him you are the daughter of an earl. We are in the middle of the ocean. The truth would not serve any of us well. You’ll be happy to learn, he also agrees you will leave the ship with me when we dock.”

  Serena clapped her hands. At least, she didn’t squeal!

  Richard wanted to escape. How could a woman innocent in the ways of the world manage to create so much havoc in his life? Hindsight being what it was, he should’ve ignored her cries for help from up in that apple tree and saddled his horse to ride away from Pendleton
posthaste. It would have saved him years of disquiet.

  Richard raised his hands up in the air in a token of surrender. “I came back to apologize for speaking so harshly to you. You make it very hard to do so.” He shrugged his shoulders out of his coat. “You’ll be pleased to know we’re disembarking from this ship together and will remain in each other’s company until we return to the vessel and sail for home.” He folded his jacket and put it on his bunk to use for a pillow. “It’s been a long and eventful morning so I’m going to take a nap. Try to stay out of trouble.”

  Richard vaulted into his bunk. Pulled his blanket over his body and rolled over to face the wall. Serena found herself alone. The ship still rocked more than she’d like, but the motion was less than it had been earlier. Something to be thankful for she supposed.

  A quick rummage through her valise confirmed Nettie had packed the dueling pistol Richard had given her in the carriage. She checked the pistol to ensure the weapon was ready to fire if the need arose. She’d shoot without hesitation, if either of them was in danger.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing, looking through my things. It appears Nettie didn’t pack a book for me to read. I’ve nothing to do. I’m bored.”

  Another foray into her valise produced a knife and sheath. Normally she wore the sheath on her thigh, but wearing breeches required her to make adjustments so the sheath would rest under the waist of her breeches within reach.

  Richard heaved a deep sigh. “You must be tired. Try to sleep. Once we land, I cannot say when you will sleep again. One of us will have to be awake at all times to stand watch until we return to the ship.”

  “I cannot sleep when I’m not tired,” she countered, trying to buy more time to wedge the sheath against her hip. Once they docked, she would hide the pistol in her jacket pocket. A knife and pistol meant she was as prepared. Pleased with herself, she patted the knife one more time and not a moment too soon.