Dark Angel (Lescaut Quartet)

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Dark Angel (Lescaut Quartet) Page 24

by Tracy Grant


  Hawkins looked up from the water with a welcome grin, then suddenly froze, a look of disbelief on his face. He was staring beyond Caroline at the expanse of water between the Sea Horse and the quayside. As Caroline turned to see what was the matter, Emily, still perched on Adam's shoulders, gave an excited cry. "Look, Mama, there's Elena!"

  Chapter Fourteen

  Adam grasped hold of Emily's legs to steady her. Caroline leaned over the rail and looked in the direction her daughter was pointing. Through the maze of frigates, schooners, merchantmen and fishing boats that dotted Lisbon harbor, a boat was cutting a path toward the Sea Horse. A woman stood in the bow, waving excitedly, a bundle clutched in her arms. The wind tugged back the hood of her cloak, revealing her bright gold hair.

  An appreciative whistle sounded from the rigging above. Hawkins gave a stifled exclamation. Caroline met Adam's gaze, the constraint between them forgot.

  "Is Elena coming with us?" Emily asked.

  "It looks that way," Adam said.

  Hawkins was staring at Elena as if transfixed. "I'll never understand women. What the devil is she about?"

  "Excuse me, Mr. Durward." The ship's first lieutenant, Mr. Forbes, a tall, serious-faced young man, joined them at the rail. "Would the young woman in the boat be a member of-your party?"

  "Apparently so." Adam turned to Forbes with a friendly smile. "I hope the captain will understand. It seems Plumb's wife has decided she can't bear another separation from her husband."

  Hawkins drew in his breath to protest, but Forbes spoke first. "Oh, quite," he said, visibly more relaxed. "Sorry for asking, it's just that the captain's a bit particular about women on board. Not wives, of course," he hastened to add. "Or widows. Another matter entirely." He glanced at Caroline and gave a confused cough. "I'm sure the captain will be delighted to have Mrs. Plumb on board. If you'll excuse me, I'll have a word with him about accommodations."

  When Forbes had left, Hawkins rounded on Adam. "What the blazes were you trying to do?" he demanded in a low voice.

  "Save you from two weeks of celibacy." Adam turned back to the rail and waved to Elena.

  Emily waved as well. Then she looked down at Hawkins. "Is Elena your wife?"

  Hawkins started to speak, broke off, and turned to Caroline with an expression of helplessness. "She's like his wife," Caroline said.

  Emily nodded as if this was a perfectly logical explanation, and waved again. Elena's boat had nearly reached the Sea Horse now and several sailors were hurrying toward the gangway to help the new passenger on board. "Come on," Adam said, pushing Hawkins forward. "Or she'll be so surrounded by men you won't be able to get a word in edgewise."

  "Yes," Caroline told him, "you wouldn't want her to think you're not glad to see her."

  They reached the gangway just as two sailors were helping Elena over the ship's side. Hawkins seemed at a loss for words. It was Adam who stepped forward and took Elena's hand. "I'm delighted you decided to join us after all, Mrs. Plumb."

  Elena's smile of greeting was wiped from her face. "I'm not—"

  "No," Adam agreed, giving her arm a warning squeeze, "you aren't expected, but the first lieutenant assures us they will have no trouble accommodating you."

  Emily, who was still sitting on Adam's shoulders, leaned down toward Elena. "I'm glad you're here."

  "So am I," said Caroline truthfully. She had come to like having another woman about.

  Some of the annoyance left Elena's face. She smiled at mother and daughter, then looked at Hawkins, who still seemed stunned by her appearance. "There's no need to stare," Elena told him, lifting her chin. "It occurred to me that if you need looking after in England as much as you do in Portugal, I'd better come along."

  Hawkins swallowed. "Elena—" he began in a hoarse voice.

  But by the time he got the word out Elena had turned back to Adam. "Is there somewhere I can put my things?" she asked.

  "Of course," Adam said. "We'd best find Forbes."

  As they went in search of the first lieutenant, Caroline looked at Hawkins with sympathy. She knew all too well that there were times when the right words just wouldn't come. Not for the first time she wondered if there was anything she could say which would ease the strain between herself and Adam.

  They found Forbes talking with Captain Brixton, a bluff, good-natured man who seemed to have a fondness for pretty women provided they weren't smuggled aboard to wreak havoc among the crew. Brixton said he was delighted to meet Mrs. Plumb. She and her husband could easily be accommodated. He would leave it to Forbes to get them settled and would see them all at dinner.

  Hawkins stood in the background throughout this exchange, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After their first meeting, Elena had not looked at him directly. As Forbes led them toward the companionway, Caroline put a hand on Hawkins's arm and detained him for a moment. "She wants to be with you. That's why she came. But she's afraid to admit how much she wants it."

  Hawkins gave a strained smile. "Elena's never had trouble expressing, her feelings before."

  "Perhaps she's never felt so strongly."

  There was no time to say more. They made their way down the companionway and followed Forbes into the great cabin. Caroline and Emily had already been allotted one of the smaller cabins opening off it. Forbes showed Elena and Hawkins to a second cabin, then excused himself, saying he would be wanted on deck. They waited only for another party of passengers and would soon be underway.

  When the cabin door shut behind Forbes, Elena turned to Adam, her eyes dark with anger. "Did you have to say I was his wife?" she demanded, gesturing toward Hawkins.

  "No." Adam was leaning against the wall, his head stooped slightly beneath the low ceiling. "I could have said you were his betrothed or Caroline's sister—though the language would have been a problem—or Caroline's maid or Emily's nurse. But then you'd have had separate cabins."

  Elena was silent. Adam regarded her for a moment. "You came after him," he said. "You must have wanted to be with him."

  "I never said—" Elena broke off and turned away.

  "There's precious little privacy to be had on shipboard," Adam told her. "Be grateful for what you can get." He looked at Caroline who nodded, reached for Emily's hand, and moved toward the door. "We'll be on deck," Adam said, following them. "Join us whenever you like."

  At the foot of the companionway Adam and Caroline exchanged glances. "Nothing like close quarters to force an accommodation," Adam said, smiling.

  Caroline returned the smile, then looked away, because the words could apply to them as much as to Elena and Hawkins.

  "Go ahead, I'll be up in a minute," Adam said, a note of strain in his voice.

  Avoiding Adam's gaze, Caroline helped Emily up the companionway, relieved to return to the distracting bustle of the deck. After the murky light below, the sunlight reflecting off the newly scrubbed deck and brass guns was blinding. The crew seemed to be everywhere, checking the sails, adjusting the rigging, calling to each other in a naval cant Caroline couldn't begin to understand. The sailors who had helped Elena on board were now hauling a portmanteau onto the deck, while Forbes stood nearby, talking with three men who must be the last of the passengers. Caroline noted the tan and buff of their coats with surprise. She had assumed the other passengers would be soldiers, not civilians.

  The men had their backs to her, but as she watched one of them turned, raised his hand, and strode across the deck in her direction. The sunlight fell across his features and glinted off the fair hair showing beneath the brim of his beaver hat. Caroline drew in her breath. It was impossible. Yet the resemblance was unmistakable. She felt unsteady on her feet and knew it was due to more than the shifting of the deck. It was as if she had fallen into a dream world where people appear suddenly with no regard to logic or geography.

  "Caroline." He was before her, holding out his hand and smiling, a familiar smile though it was five years since she had seen it. "Stuart told me you'd be on t
he ship, but I scarcely believed it until I saw for myself. What a stroke of luck."

  Caroline gave him her hand. "It's good to see you again, Sherry," she said, hoping her hesitation would be put down to surprise at meeting him so unexpectedly. But she felt far more than surprise. For George Sheriton had not only been a friend of Jared's, he had been one of Jared's partners in the foundry. And to meet him like this, so soon after her alarming encounter with Talbot, was not only unexpected, it was disturbing.

  Caroline looked at Sherry's open, friendly face and told herself she was jumping at shadows. There must be some perfectly logical explanation for his turning up on the deck of a frigate in Lisbon harbor. "You've been traveling?" she asked.

  "Lord, yes. Been taking my brother and a friend of his on a sort of Grand Tour—Greece, Sardinia, Malta, Gibraltar. That's the closest we got to the Peninsula or I'd have tried to get in touch with you sooner. We arrived in Lisbon yesterday. I called on Stuart and asked about you and he said you were to sail today, so I hurried down to the harbor and had a word with Captain Brixton. Luckily he was able to accommodate us as well."

  Sherry grinned as if he couldn't be more pleased with how things had turned out. Caroline found herself smiling in return. It was difficult to think of Sherry as an enemy. Of course, it had been difficult to think of Talbot that way, but at least she had known Talbot to be reckless and not overly scrupulous. Sherry seemed too good-natured for any sort of conspiracy.

  Sherry's expression had grown grave. "Stuart told me about Jared, Caroline. I'm so sorry."

  "Thank you." Caroline felt awkward, as she always did when speaking of Jared's death.

  An uncomfortable silence was broken when Sherry looked down and saw Emily. "By Jupiter," he exclaimed, crouching in front of her, "Jared's child. I knew your father, little one."

  "My daughter, Emily," Caroline said, putting an arm around her. "Emily, this is Mr. Sheriton. He was a friend of your father's."

  Emily studied Sherry gravely, then gave him a shy smile. Sherry seemed delighted. "What a little angel," he said, getting to his feet. "She's the image of you, Caroline. She'll have suitors crowding round her before you know it."

  The look in his eyes made this as much a compliment to Caroline as to her daughter. Caroline was startled. It was a long time since she'd engaged in anything remotely like flirtation. Before she could answer, they were joined by Sherry's brother and his friend who had made their way more slowly across the deck.

  "I say, George," said the taller of the two whose blond hair and broad shoulders clearly proclaimed him as Sherry's brother. "You might introduce Andy and me. You can't hope to monopolize all the pretty women."

  Sherry laughed and clapped a hand on the young man's shoulder. "This scapegrace is my brother Jack. His companion in mischief is Andrew Blair. Mrs. Rawley and her daughter Emily, you scamps. Mind your manners, you're in the presence of English ladies."

  Jack Sheriton gave an unrepentant grin and swept Caroline and Emily a bow. "Enchanted to meet you, ma'am. Miss." His manner was a good deal more flirtatious than his brother's and a good deal less, Caroline thought, to be taken seriously.

  Andrew Blair, a slender young man with dark hair and startlingly blue eyes, seized Caroline's hand and lifted it to his lips. "Foreign women are all very well, but they can't hold a candle to English beauties."

  Caroline smiled in spite of herself, beginning to slip back in to the familiar social game. There was a time when she'd received such compliments regularly, and though she'd grown up a good deal since then, there was no denying the flattery was pleasant.

  She was still smiling when she heard the creak of the companionway. Without looking around she knew that Adam had come onto the deck. She turned toward him and saw him looking at Sherry with the stillness of recognition. Of course. Adam would have met Sherry five years ago when he was investigating the fraud.

  "George Sheriton, Adam Durward," Caroline said calling on formality to cover the awkward moment.

  "We met once, briefly," Adam said, extending his hand. His tone was courteous but his eyes were hard. Caroline knew he was asking himself the same questions about Sherry that she had asked on first seeing him.

  "Of course." Sherry shook Adam's hand with no sign of rancor. "Stuart said you'd brought Caroline back from Spain. By thunder, I'm glad there was someone about to help her."

  Caroline introduced Jack and Andy and explained that Sherry and the boys had been traveling in the Mediterranean. She hoped this information would ease Adam's suspicions, but the hard look in his eyes remained. Sherry seemed unaware of Adam's hostility and talked cheerfully until the ship unmoored and they all moved to the rail for a last glimpse of Lisbon.

  The roofless houses were a stark reminder of the war they left behind, but Caroline felt a lump form in her throat as they pulled away from the city.

  "Must have been beautiful once," Sherry said. "Sad what's been done to this country."

  "Yes," Adam said. Hearing the raw grief in his voice, Caroline felt a sudden sense of kinship. One had to have lived here to really understand what the war meant. The gulf between her and Adam, who had lived in the Peninsula, and Sherry and the boys, whose knowledge of the war came from English newspapers, seemed enormous. As enormous as the gulf between the city now receding into the distance and the city they were bound for.

  "Look!" Emily, on Adam's shoulders once again, was pointing at Fort Saint Julian and Fort Saint Burgio which stood guard on either side of the mouth of the Tagus. She wouldn't remember seeing them on their earlier journey. But Caroline did. She had a vivid memory of standing at the rail with Emily in her arms as their ship sailed into the Tagus nearly four years ago. She had thought then that she had put the past behind her, but she had been a fool. She was surounded by reminders of the past. Adam. Sherry. Emily herself.

  A gust of the rougher wind from the sea blew in their faces. "Another fortnight and we'll be in England," Sherry said, clapping hold of his hat.

  Caroline glanced at Adam and saw the strain in the set of his face. "Yes," she said. "England."

  "You look pretty, Mama."

  Caroline glanced over her shoulder and laughed at her daughter's words. The silver gray silk with scalloped lace at the neck had once been one of her simpler evening dresses but it was far more elegant than the clothes Emily was accustomed to seeing her wear. Emily was perched on the berth, wearing a, pale pink frock Caroline had made herself the previous autumn. It was Emily's best dress, but it was now several inches too short and it strained across the shoulders. She would have to manage to get Emily more clothing when they reached England.

  Caroline turned back to the small looking-glass which hung above the washstand in their cabin. There was no way to curl her hair, but she had twisted it into a smooth knot and confined it with a silver comb. She clasped her pearl necklace round her throat, pulled on a pair of white kid gloves, which smelled of camphor from lying so long in her trunk, and held out her hand to Emily. "Ready?"

  Emily nodded, solemn-faced. Caroline had told her that dining in the captain's cabin was not the same as dining at home or in Adam's lodgings. Wondering if she'd overemphasized the need for good manners, Caroline smiled reassuringly. In truth, she felt more than a little rusty herself. This was the closest thing to a formal dinner that she'd been to since she left England.

  Stepping into the captain's cabin was like stepping into a half-remembered world. Candlelight glowed off dark paneled walls and highly polished silver. An immaculate linen cloth covered the table. The rich smell of fine claret hung in the air. Were it not for the curving, many-paned stern windows that gave a glimpse of the sea, she might have forgot they were on a ship at all.

  Emily took it all in stride, but Elena seemed overwhelmed. In a dress of a soft dark red velvet, her hair piled high on her head, she looked every inch a lady, but she appeared uncertain about acting the part. "You look magnificent," Caroline said, giving her arm a sympathetic squeeze.

  Elena smiled thankfu
lly. The candlelight caught the gold of her long, heavy earrings. Caroline wondered if Elena's wearing them was a sign things had improved between her and Hawkins. "The earrings look lovely," Caroline said.

  Elena colored, then laughed. She glanced down at Emily, who was looking about the cabin with curiosity, then murmured to Caroline. "We have not solved all our problems, but we have—how do you say it?—reached an accommodation."

  "I'm so glad," Caroline said. She glanced at Adam, but he was talking to the captain and didn't seem to see her.

  When they moved to the table, Caroline found herself seated between Emily and Sherry. "Had to intercede with the captain," Sherry whispered as he took his place beside her. "Good thing I have a title to wave in his face, or you'd be sitting by him instead."

  Caroline smiled. Earlier in the day, she and Sherry had had time to catch up on the past years. Sherry had told her that his father had died two years ago. He was now Lord Sheriton, though he insisted that he still preferred to be called Sherry. Being a viscount was a plaguey nuisance, he said, though Caroline thought the responsibility had probably helped him grow up.

  Over dinner Sherry entertained her with accounts of his adventures abroad, frequently assisted by Andy and Jack. The conversation was freer, with people talking back and forth across the table, but otherwise Caroline might have imagined herself in London. Uniformed stewards waited at table with a stiff formality that rivaled that of the starchiest footmen. The food, fresh for the most part because they had just left port, was elaborately dressed: fillet of sole with caper sauce, chicken vol-au-vent, stewed mushrooms, larded capon. It was all a little too rich for Caroline's taste, but the variety was certainly novel.

  Caroline began to enjoy herself, lulled by the wine and the laughter and the admiration. She and Elena were the only ladies on board and came in for a good deal of attention. Elena's nervousness seemed to have vanished. She was seated between Captain Brixton and a wounded major going home on leave. Both of them appeared captivated by her and they were vying for her attention.

 

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