The Captain's Lady

by Robecca Austin

  Reaching down, Nicholas picked his bag from where he’d dropped it at his feet and slung it over his shoulder. His day was far from over. Men needed their pay. Tom would be waiting in his office for an account of the events at sea, but that would have to wait until he dealt with the merchants.

  “Congratulations, Captain, you made it.” An eager lad ran beside him.

  “Did you lose any men? How many injured?” a reporter added to the frenzy, pen in hand.

  “The captain eats his wounded!” another laughed.

  “How many did you kill?” another shouted.

  “Only those who tried to kill me,” he answered, trying to push through the bodies. For all his reputation was worth, the crowd closed in on him instead of moving away. Nicholas sighed; he couldn’t possibly draw his pistol and threaten the lot.

  A chill ran across his shoulders, coaxing every nerve along his back to life. His head snapped up as he scanned the docks for the cause of his unease. Nicholas’s eyes stopped at the familiar figure standing beside his parked carriage. It was as if his subconscious had conjured Isabella purely for his distraction.

  Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, with thick curls caressing the side of her face and slender neck. He groaned at the thought of setting her hair free.

  He let his eyes linger, roaming over every inch of her: the top of her head, the slope of her shoulders, the softness of her breasts barely being contained by the dress’s low neckline. He saw the small shift in her posture and wondered if she was as uncomfortable as he. His eyes blazed a path back along her curves, causing his own body to stiffen in sweet agony. Their gazes met and held.

  Time slipped away, and something between them shifted. They were no longer separated by the sea or time, but bonded by their own needs. By the slight lifting of her shoulders and the tilting of her chin, he sensed Isabella felt the tension too. Something significant had changed between them, though he was reluctant to name it, and the lure she ignited tightened in the pit of his stomach.

  Heat. Delicious heat warmed his skin as if she had touched him. Touched him with her eyes as he had done her. He drew a ragged breath at the thought of the power of such a connection.

  As quickly as it happened, the link was broken. He remembered where he stood. The voices around him breaking through the invisible barrier. And like a bucket of cold water, Daniel stepped out of the carriage to stand at her side.

  His chest hurt, the wound deeper than any he’d suffered in battle. And even as his fist tightened, Nicholas threw back his head and laughed. The sun and sea salt must have addled his brain if he thought anything between them had changed.

  “Nicholas, darling, give me your hand.” Judith’s voice brought him back to the present.

  He’d forgotten all about the woman on board. He looked at her questioningly.

  “The puddle.” She pointed at her feet. “I don’t want to get my dress wet.”

  Stretching his free hand back, he opened his palm and waited for her to take hold. When she did, he closed his fingers around hers, guiding her around the muddy hole.

  She stood before him in a twirl of skirts, her up-turned face holding a suggestive pose. Nicholas shook his head. She had painted her face and changed clothing. But his feelings towards her had not changed.

  Without warning, Judith threw herself at him, wrapping arms around his waist. “Thank you, Nicholas, for…” she blushed. “Keeping me safe aboard your ship.”

  He raised a dark brow. They both knew he had not been her protector.

  “Shall we?” This time it was her hand being offered.

  Nicholas scowled. He had no time for Judith’s games. He had a mind to leave her where she stood. Instead, he took her arm, not trusting her to keep her mouth shut about the events at sea or adding bits of her own imagination.

  Turning away from his wife and her lover, Nicholas moved them through the crowd, his dark mood etched across his face.

  At the end of the dock, he crossed the narrow alley between buildings until they stood at the stairs to the office space he rented.

  “Go on up,” he instructed Judith. “I’ll arrange your transport home.”

  If she was irritated, it didn’t show. Judith gathered her skirt and ascended the stairs with all the grace she possessed.

  Over his shoulders, Nicholas sought one more glance at his wife, but she no longer stood at the edge of the crowd. Isabella was gone.

  Nicholas climbed the steps two at a time. He was hot, tired, and disgusted with himself for allowing Isabella to rob him of all reason, but the crew did not deserve his ill treatment or his scowl. They deserved a celebration. They had risked their very lives and survived.

  A round of cheers went up when he entered the room.

  “Dispense the wine, will you, Tom?” The crew, Tom, Judith, and some of the gentlemen financially invested in his cargo all filled the small space outside his office. It was a successful run.

  Holding his glass, he toasted, “To the bravest, most loyal crew a captain could ever have.”

  “The most loyal and ill-tempered captain a crew could have,” one of the men countered.

  “Don’t forget honest,” another shouted.

  “He saved my life when those pirates attacked!” Calloway’s voice rose above the others.

  “Here, here to the captain.”

  “See this lot paid, Tom, and don’t let them leave until their jugs are empty.” That earned him another round of cheers.

  In the far corner of the room, Judith looked in need of saving. A gentleman Nicholas had only seen a time or two at Brown’s engaged her in what he could only guess was his attempt of wooing. Judith’s gestures were polite enough, but every few minutes her eyes roamed the room. Twice she had looked pointedly at him, but he’d only nodded and raised his glass. He wouldn’t give her the chance to repeat the stunt she’d pulled at the docks.

  “I seem to be the only one without cause for celebration,” Lord Jacob’s voice interrupted Nicholas’s musing.

  Nicholas turned to find the straight-faced man at his side. Jacob was a constant investor in trade; one Nicholas could not afford to lose.

  “In my office.” Nicholas didn’t wait for a reply. He led the way, closing the door the second the other man stepped past the threshold of the private office. It was quieter, and he welcomed the moment’s reprieve.

  “You promised a full shipment,” Jacob accused without hesitation.

  “Look, we both know the shipping business is risky. Shipment is not guaranteed until I dock, and it’s the reason I don’t charge an installment on orders.” He also didn’t take advances because he did as he very well pleased, he almost snapped. Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. He understood power and the value of it. While men held title over him, he held the means to cripple their livelihood. No, he wasn’t a lord or marquess, but that did not mean he would bend to their will.

  Lord Jacob fell back into the chair with a sigh.

  “The gains were no good. Drought,” he said as way of explanation.

  Jacob nodded.

  Lifting his bag off the floor, Nicholas opened it, taking a handful of its contents out. “How stands your greenhouse?”

  Jacob shrugged. “I don’t see what my plants have to do with my loss in coin.”

  Opening his hand, Nicholas showed him the seeds. Frowning, the other man leaned forward and plucked a seed from the palm of his hands. Jacob examined the item, knowledge slowly lightening his features.

  “Tea,” Nicholas said, pouring the contents back into the small sack. Retying the string and sealing the bag, he wondered if the man could see opportunity, or better yet, seize it. Pulling on the string with a final tug and finding it secure, he tossed the sack to Jacob. The idea struck him at sea: why buy on behalf of merchants when he could also participate in sale. He certainly had the means to ship. A large greenhouse like Jacob’s was necessary, since he was unfamiliar with how the crop would fair in the winter months.

  Jacob’s brows creased.
“You want me to grow tea?”

  “Not just any tea. The leaves are the main ingredient in an herbal blend. It’s popular in the East, and by all accounts has both calming and healing properties. There is no reason the exotic blend cannot be replicated here.”

  “You’re giving me the seeds?”

  “Only if you’ll consider partnering with me.”

  “What do you want in return?”

  “You have the means to grow and I have the means to ship. If we pass the first stage and the crop survives, it could be a lucrative stream of coin.”

  “Why me?”

  “Our dealings have always been fair. I trust you, and from my experience, it is not always so in business. This is more than tea, Jacob. Tea is drunk all hours of the day, more than alcohol in some households. Done right, we will be in every kitchen in London and across the pond. As to why I chose you? You’re honest.”

  “And if I decline?”

  Nicholas shrugged. “I’ll find another partner.” Truth, he didn’t know anyone else with a greenhouse as large, or that possessed the necessary skills.

  Whether it was Jacob’s business sense or the thought of growing something new, his curiosity had been piqued. “Partners, huh,” he said, eyeing the seed.

  “Fifty-fifty.”

  Jacob rose from the chair, bag clutched in one hand as he extended the other. “Partners.”

  Nicholas took the outstretched hand, sealing their new bargain. “There is one more thing, partner,” he said. “What do you know of Lord Emsley?”

  Jacob’s lips twitched.

  When Jacob left his office, Nicholas knew he’d not misstepped in his choice of a business partner. More than that, now he knew more about Lord Emsley’s gambling habits. The man would risk all for card. Nicholas shook his head. He’d known such men, witnessed their downfall countless times. Even now, he knew of two in debtor’s jail because they could not pay off the money they owed. They’d lost their families, homes, and still they risked all over and over again.

  “Come in,” Nicholas said, leaning against his desk. He frowned when Tom entered his office, wiping sweat from his brow. He’d never seen the man out of sorts. Come to think of it, he’d never seen the man with so much as a hair out of place.

  “I fear some of your men may have trouble finding their way home.” Tom dropped heavily into Jacob’s abandoned chair. “I’ve taken the liberty of relinquishing them of the means to add to their current state,” he said, handing over the pays he’d withheld to Nicholas.

  Nicholas laughed.

  “Stop!”

  “Isabella?”

  “I must go back.” Isabella’s fingers trembled as she fingered the pins in her hair. “Your aunt is correct, Daniel. If I’m to win my husband, he must know I mean to try.”

  Daniel squeezed her gloved hand before leaning against his seat as she reached for the door. “I wondered when you’d come around.”

  She paused, brows raised. “You’re not going to stop me, or think I’m a blundering fool?” she said, taking Chambers’ out-stretched hand and stepping onto the street.

  Daniel chuckled. He caught her free hand. “Your captain doesn’t stand a chance against such forces.”

  She blushed. “See Lord Daniel is taken wherever he wishes, will you Chambers?”

  “Yes m’lady.”

  Turning away from the carriage, she took a steadying breath, lifted her skirts above her slippers, and crossed the street that lead to the busy docks and Nicholas’s office.

  The celebration was still in high spirits as more ships docked. Her steps faltered. Nicholas had survived the journey. His men were all accounted for. She did not want to sour the mood with thoughts of their disagreement. Maybe she’d been rash in her decision to not prolong their meeting.

  The duchess’s words rang in her ears. “Nicholas requires a bold wife, an equal.”

  Looking around the docks as men shouted their orders for merchandise, Isabella turned towards the stairs. It was time she righted their marriage.

  At the top of the stairs, she opened the door and entered the room. Men stood in small groups. Waves of their excited chatter filled the space. Merchants and shipmates mingled with filled glasses in their hands. The scent of rum and sherry tickled the air. The floor was made rough by streaks of mud from the bottom of boots and the scrubbings from a wire-brush.

  Isabella paused when the voices hushed. A smile ghosted the corners of her mouth, then quickly faded when the only other woman in the room turned. Their gazes held. Isabella’s chest became heavy under the weight of her pounding heart. She’d heard whispers of women flocking to ships when they docked, but this woman didn’t dress like the street walkers she’d seen around port.

  The woman seemed to share in the camaraderie, yet she held herself apart. It was in the way she kept smoothing her skirts and glancing towards the office door.

  The door at the end of the room opened. Isabella turned towards the new intrusion. It was Nicholas. His imposing figure stood in the doorway of his office. Tom, his accountant, stood at his side. This time when her heart drummed, it was in tune with her husband’s.

  “Good day, Mr. Jenkins,” Isabella said.

  “Lady Isabella.” Tom smiled.

  Over the past few weeks she’d come to know Tom and respected the man for his cleverness. He’d accomplished more than seeing to her accounts. He was a shrewd businessman, and knowing he favored their marriage and campaigned for the union, proved his devotion. It was with Tom’s help that she intended to show Nicholas she intended to be more than his way into society.

  “I trust all is in order?”

  She touched his elbow. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Jenkins.”

  Clearing his throat, Tom touched the brim of his hat before leaving them.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen Tom blush,” Nicholas said as he stepped aside and allowed her entry into his office. “Don’t tell me you’ve unleashed your charms on the man?”

  “Hardly.”

  When the door closed, Isabella turned. Though subtle, she was struck by the evidence of his life at sea. His shoulders were broader beneath his white cotton shirt. His skin was also favored by the sun. The bones at his cheek were pronounced and the lines under his eyes spoke of a wariness that hadn’t been there before.

  “What are ye doing here?”

  “I came to welcome you home.”

  He took a step towards her, closing the distance until they were only a breath apart. “Welcome me home, Isabella?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Her chin tilted up.

  Slowly, his hand touched her hair. A curl wrapped around his finger before he smoothed the wayward strand behind her ear. Isabella swayed closer. The tip of his finger caressed her cheek, running along her flesh until he held her tilted chin between two fingers.

  “Everything.” He snatched his hand away, burying it deep into his pockets.

  Her heart thundered. Everywhere he touched was left heated. Searching his face, she realized he felt it too. The air had grown thick from their nearness. He’d not forgotten their night of passion. It was what she’d hoped.

  “You needn’t have come, Isabella.” He faced the window overlooking the docks. “I haven’t forgotten our arrangement. I’ll have my belongings removed from the house tomorrow.”

  Her heart sank. He thought she’d come to remind him of their bargain. “There is no need…”

  He turned. “Have you changed your mind?”

  Yes! She wanted to shout as they stared at each other. What if he laughed? What if he still thought her the silly chit he’d sailed from months ago? She couldn’t handle his rejection. Not now. The time for words had passed. She needed to show Nicholas she wanted their marriage.

  “I didn’t come to toss you from our home.”

  “Nay?”

  “I came to congratulate my tenant on his return.”

  Those dark eyes narrowed.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of acquiring the buildin
g next door. One of your warehouses, I believe.”

  “I’ve tried to get that building for years. How did you… Tom.” He chuckled.

  “Before you aim your musket, you should know he was only following my direction after I became aware the owner would not sell to you. The owner feared backlash from the more…favorable gentlemen who were also interested. A fair price was negotiated.”

  “Tom would not spend a shilling of my money if the investment was not sound.”

  “My funds,” she corrected sweetly.

  Nicholas tilted his head to the side. “Your dowry was to be used…”

  “As I intended.”

  After a brief pause, he nodded. “It’s prime real estate, Isabella. In a few years, you will have earned more than your investment.”

  Her stomach fluttered at his approval. “We.”

  He frowned.

  “I have no doubt we will earn our investment with you overseeing our businesses.”

  His eyes closed, then opened. “What is it you want from me?”

  Her breath stilled as she held his gaze. “I’m interested in a partnership, Nicholas.”

  With slow purpose, his eyes ran the length of her. “You no longer need me.”

  He was wrong. Still, she remained quiet, waiting for his answer. When he nodded, she wanted nothing more than to go to him. She resisted. She needed to do more than gain his respect—she needed to win his love.

  “If that is what you truly seek, you shall have it.”

  “Splendid!” she said and hurried from the room. She had one more stop to make, and she couldn’t allow the heat from his caress or his stormy eyes to drive her to distraction. Least not yet.

  Twenty Six

  Isabella moved from one glass case to another, examining the merchandise. The duchess’s card had led her to the small, well-hidden shop.

  Isabella looked more closely at the objects in the case. She would make him desire her as much as she did him. Persuade her husband to their marriage.