by Susan Lodge
Far from happy with his orders, she nevertheless kept her tongue still. She didn’t want to spoil the moment with an argument. She nodded meekly and saw his eyes narrow in suspicion before he continued. “And Captain Townsend is a personal friend. In truth, I couldn’t relinquish you to a more competent protector at sea. So, take his advice – always.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
“Yes.” He drew her into his arms and the kiss that followed lasted until they were both breathless. Her body curved and melded into his hard, muscled torso, seeking a solution to the conflict in her mind. What a cruel twist of fate it was that pronounced that this glorious kiss of awakening also had to be a kiss of goodbye.
The steady tread of footsteps approaching made them both draw apart and, with a last squeeze of her hand, Adam whispered, “If only we had more time I could show you…”
She halted his words with a gentle finger to his lips. “I have a job to do, and so have you. I will be safe with Captain Townsend and I have the protection of the Prime Minister and Lord Alysworth. I will barely be able to breathe without someone enquiring on my welfare. And I do not intend to make any hasty decisions on marriage, but I will be praying each day for your safe return.”
Her smile was bright, but underneath she was crying.
Chapter Twenty-Four
If black looks could sink a ship, then the HMS Pamela would certainly have been in trouble. Adam watched from his own quarterdeck as Captain Townsend’s vessel glided out of the harbour under a brisk wind.
His officers skirted around him cautiously, as he stood like a starving lion begging to be unleashed. God keep her safe.
His hands tightened around the ship’s rail. She had gone and it hurt like hell. His gaze finally left the ship as it became a distant silhouette, dazzled by the early morning sun, and turned to his Lieutenant.
“Mr. Forbes, I would like to see you and Mr. Grant in my cabin immediately.”
“Aye, sir.” Will dared to hesitate.
Adam’s eyes widened. “Have you a more pressing appointment?”
“No, Captain. I just wondered what duties you intended for the new recruit.”
“New recruit! I didn’t authorise more hands.”
Will winced under his captain’s stare. “He said, sir, he had served with you before and you had promised him a berth. I gave him to the steward to keep busy until you confirmed his story.” Will paused and lowered his voice. “He said he saved Celine’s life.”
Adam sighed – Jake. Lord, not another complication. He had sent the boy home with his pockets full of money and a letter of recommendation that he could present in a year or two when he would be of an age to go to sea. The boy had the cheek of the devil!
“I will speak to him later. Leave him where he is at present.”
Adam turned to go below. What he needed was a couple of French frigates to blow out of the water. That might just make him feel better.
***
Jane sat in her new quarters on the HMS Pamela. The ship, as Captain Townsend had advised, was indeed bigger than the Serena, being a seventy-gun ship of the line. She had learnt that the last passenger who had used this cabin was the Duke of Hastings, which accounted for its rather extravagant furnishings. She had watched from the stern window as Valetta had disappeared to give way to a deep blue expanse of white-tipped water. As well as Celine, Cookson had employed a maid to accompany her on the trip back to England, and there was virtually an arsenal of marines on board. There was nowhere she could go without someone fussing around. She felt like a pampered Pekingese.
Would Lord Alysworth’s hospitality be any less confining? No, of course not. She puffed out a sigh and moved away from the window.
England beckoned her forward. She might have left Malta but her heart had remained back there in the clutches of an arrogant captain whose kisses still burned on her lips.
***
Adam sat facing his two lieutenants, discussing the fate of their infamous midshipman who he still held under ship’s arrest.
“Cookson and I hope to keep young Blackton out of the official proceedings. His father’s title will help, of course. But I suspect his career at sea will be curtailed.”
Samuel Grant swapped a troubled look with Will Forbes. “Well, there’s no question, Captain, that he put his ship at risk and aided Mrs. Charlesworth’s abduction. At least that mystery has been solved. But previously his conduct has always been commendable.”
“And brave,” Will added. “He covered my back during attack more than once. Harrow must had inflicted a great deal of pressure on the boy to make him act so underhand.”
“He was trying to protect his family name,” Adam replied. “Harrow had him convinced the document hid a dishonourable secret about his father. Harrow had been managing the family affairs for a few years, since Blackton’s father had fallen ill. At such a tender age it would have been a hard choice. Loyalty to his ship or loyalty to his family.”
Will nodded in agreement. “He is at a low ebb, sir, I fear he might do something stupid. He thinks his life is so unworthy he could try to end it.”
Adam stifled his alarm. “It is a sorry business.” He leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “He is still technically under ship’s arrest, gentleman, but if he is to remain aboard I want you to keep him busy – very busy. I want him to be so damn tired at the end of each day he has no time to dwell on the past.”
As his officers left him, Adam turned his attention to his desk and swore at the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated in the last few days. But, as he took up the first sheet, his lips suddenly curved at the memory of a chocolate-eyed, smart-mouthed woman who had made short, efficient work of his last backlog.
His labours were soon interrupted by the arrival of his morning refreshments. Adam peered at the figure that now had his back to him, busying himself with a coffee pot. His steward had suddenly become several inches shorter.
“Hell’s teeth,” he muttered, as he recognised his latest recruit.
“Good morning, Captain. I have brewed your coffee. Just the way you like it.”
The boy’s beaming smile collided with Adam’s cold grey stare.
“Jake – take that grin of your face, boy. You are not sailing on my ship.”
***
Three hours later Adam put down his quill, satisfied that all his paperwork would pass any Admiralty inspection. He had relented in the end and signed on Jake, after confirming that his mother had given her blessing. He stretched his weary limbs, thinking he was fast becoming a bloody nursemaid. The sound of visitors arriving on deck instantly sharpened his senses. Seconds later the cabin door swung open and Cookson was announced.
Adam, surprised at the unscheduled call, rose and offered his guest a seat. “I would have attended you, sir, at your office, if you had required my presence.”
Cookson nodded a greeting but remained standing.
“I have brought a visitor, Marston.”
Adam looked beyond Cookson where the cabin door now framed a tall elderly man regaled in naval splendour. The immaculately dressed figure wore a scowl that was similar to his own a few minutes earlier. He swore silently as his body prickled with apprehension. Admiral Wright! What in heaven’s name was his uncle doing here?
He had not seen any of his family members for so long that he had no idea how he should react. He straightened up, swiftly buttoned his jacket, and composed himself.
“I had no idea you were in Malta, sir. What are you doing here?”
“I wasn’t aware I had to check my movements with you, Marston. My convoy is here for a week and I am most relieved to have caught up with you. Now, what the bloody hell do you think you have been playing at?”
Adam did his best to contain his temper. He breathed slowly and evenly. Admirals necessitated a great deal of respect – even ones that were related. “I have been carrying out my duties as ordered, sir. I seldom have time to play at anything.”
“I do
n’t mean the business with Mrs. Charlesworth and the Rosa Santos. Cookson here speaks well of your success in bringing Harrow to justice. I mean ignoring your family. Your father’s man of business has sent you two letters during this last month. I failed to have seen any reply or any enquiry on your part to the state of your family affairs. God, man, you can’t just ignore your roots.”
Something cold and unwelcoming was crawling up Adam’s back. Something had happened! He pushed the guilt aside.
“But, sir! They have managed to ignore me for the last nine years. I relinquished – no, I was obliged to sever all ties to the family and its estates. Am I to believe my father now wants my assistance? I have no fortune to rescue the mismanagement of a family who disowned me.”
“Don’t act like a fool! You were not entirely blameless for what happened and you never tried to put things right. Your father is as stubborn as you, and he should never have handed over the running of the estates to your brother in the first place. Even before you shot him!”
The admiral placed several packets on his desk. He pointed to the officially sealed one.
“Here are your new orders. You are to take the Serena back to the convoy, relinquish the command to Samuel Grant, and take the first ship home to England. Once there, you will go home and sort out your private affairs.”
Go back to his family? Adam gasped. “I take it I have a say in all this.”
“Do you usually have a say in discussing the merits of your orders? You read them, then you carry them out, just like you have been doing since you were a scrawny midshipman.”
Adam couldn’t argue with that statement. He watched with growing discomfort as the admiral pointed to the other correspondence.
“These are for you. Hopefully they will pierce your ox-like exterior and find you have a conscience within, or at least a heart. I promised your father I would put them in your hands personally. He was ill when I last saw him.” The admiral eased himself into Adam’s chair. “Have you any decent brandy?”
Adam took a moment to send for the required refreshments and calm the turmoil in his head.
“My father is ill, sir?” He could never remember his father ever having a day of sickness.
The admiral dealt him an ice-cold stare. “The last years have taken a toll on him. Did you know he has changed his will?”
Adam tensed. “I don’t want anything from him. He wanted his other son to replace me. I presume he has been forced to change his mind.”
“You have it so wrong, Adam.”
His uncle’s words were quieter and their familiarity threw him off-balance. It made the guilt cascade around him like a loose cannonball. He preferred the coldness and the accusations. God, why was he the guilty one all of a sudden? Wasn’t he the one who had been discarded, turned out, abandoned?
The admiral continued, “Meanwhile, your orders are to sail. I suggest you get your ship in order.”
“I don’t want to be released from my ship, there is a war on. My duty lies at sea. You have no right to interfere, Uncle. I am my own man.”
“You have a battle to win back at home. The French will be here when you come back, if you come back. Your family needs you – you will have to choose which helm you command, your ship or the Marston estates.
“Read these carefully at your leisure.” The admiral pointed to the letters from home. “And try to see the sentiment behind the words.”
When the admiral finally took his leave from Adam, it was with a formal goodbye, but their eyes shared an understanding.
Cookson lingered by his side as the admiral stepped out on deck. “Well, Marston, I wish you luck. I hope you are able to reconcile with your family.”
Adam nodded and then glanced at his orders again. “I am to relinquish the Serena when we near the convoy. From there, I am to join the first ship bound for home.”
Cookson replaced his hat and turned to face Adam. “Pity the ship that left this morning was not able to accommodate you. I do believe they were setting a similar course. One has to sail through the Med to get to England, as I remember. And I believe you still have unfinished business on that ship.”
“Indeed I do,” Adam murmured as he read the orders again, his mind calculating the possibilities before he studied the older man’s eyes. Had he known his uncle was due in port?
Cookson held his hand out to Adam. “And you do have the faster ship.”
Adam shook the proffered hand. “Indeed I have.”
Cookson turned back at the door. “And make sure things are settled between you and Jane, before you get to England.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jane stretched herself awake and surveyed her cabin as strands of early morning sun bobbed across the furniture.
The day spread out in front of her like an empty page. She craved something useful to occupy herself with. She didn’t want time to think about what she had left behind, or think about what was waiting for her at home. She had tried to write to Adam and had left her desk last night strewn with failed attempts. Even the most difficult of her code-breaking tasks didn’t compare with deciphering what she felt in her heart.
As Celine entered with an armful of garments, she swung her feet to the floor and moved to look out the stern window. A frigate was shadowing them on the larboard side. The scene caused a chill to run up her spine. “I hope that is a friendly ship?”
Celine came to look over her shoulder. “Of course it is,” she scoffed. “If not, we should have been plagued with running feet, shifting cannons, and general upheaval by now.”
Jane scrunched her eyes and released a sigh of relief as she made out the flag. “What business has it here?” She moved from the window and started to pull on her clothes.
Celine shrugged as she came over to button up the back of Jane’s dress. “I am not sure but I did hear the steward say its jolly boat had come alongside during the night. Delivering provisions and mail for home. Nothing very exciting.”
“Most exciting thing that has happened so far on this voyage,” Jane replied, as Celine searched through the debris of paper on her table.
“What is this mess, and where has your hairbrush disappeared?”
Jane ignored her and walked back towards the window. The frigate was now turning into the wind, its stern retreating. Something tugged at her insides, filling her senses with memories of her previous voyage. She peered out, but couldn’t make out the name. But it did look very familiar.
Celine came up and stood behind her, brush in hand. “Never mind that, Celine.” Jane ducked out of the way and rammed her bonnet on her head. “I need to get a better view of that ship.” Surely, it couldn’t be.
By the time she arrived on deck, the blood was pulsing through her veins. She grasped the rail to steady herself and studied the vessel as it slipped farther away towards the East. She turned to the officer of the watch.
“What was the name of that vessel?”
“The Serena, ma’am.”
Her heart beat triple time. No, no, no! A visit from the Serena and she had slept through it.
“Why was I not told?” She rounded on the man. His eyes filled with confusion and she quickly checked her tone. “I am sorry. Never mind.” She needed to find Captain Townsend.
Turning quickly she buried her heartbreak and purposely strode towards the captain’s quarters. He should have informed her that was the Serena alongside! He must have known how much she would have liked to have exchanged a word, or even a wave with Adam.
“Why, Jane, I know that look. Are you going to take poor Townsend to task, or are you just content to bully his men?”
She whirled around – Adam?
Her body trembled at the sight of his impressive frame propped against the rail. Pure joy bubbled up inside her, and if it were not for the fact they were being watched by a dozen curious pairs of eyes, she might just have jumped into his arms to reassure herself that she wasn’t hallucinating.
Her puzzled gaze moved to the re
treating frigate and then back to him. “What are you doing here?”
He straightened up and came and offered his arm. “Change of orders. Shall we go somewhere a little less public so you can welcome me properly?”
As they entered Jane’s quarters, Adam looked around and let out a low whistle.
“I was hoping to secure a decent cabin from Martin, but the most desirable accommodation seems to have been already taken. The gun room is going to be a poor second.”
Jane reluctantly released his arm and turned to study his face. She wanted facts.
“Why are you here?”
“My maternal uncle, Admiral Wright, turned up in Malta, shortly after you left. I have been ordered back to England to sort out family affairs. My father, it seems, has finally overlooked my misdemeanours.” He briefly told her of the admiral’s interview and his father’s illness.
Jane touched his arm, not fooled by his brisk, emotionless tone. He was hiding his feelings; as always, it was hurting him to talk about his family. She would help him through it – as he had helped her. This was a second chance for both of them, to face England together and deal with the ghosts and questions.
Adam continued, “I have been relieved of command of the Serena and ordered to get the first passage home. I had to do some neat manoeuvring to catch up with you.”
Jane could not stop her insides churning with excitement. They were to go back together. “That is wonderful news, Adam.”
“I hoped you would feel that way.” His eyes darkened, igniting a torturous ache inside her.
He jerked her towards him and she savoured the hard warmth of his body as they shared a hungry kiss. When he finally released her he held her back at arm’s length, studying her face with serious grey eyes. “Now, we have unfinished business to discuss. I still need an answer to my proposal. I would like things settled between us before I am immersed into my family problems, and you are handed over to the Admiralty’s clutches and Lord Alysworth’s protection. So, Jane Charlesworth, will you marry me?”