by Jo Ann Brown
But he could not, so he came out to the back garden before he lost his temper.
“Captain?” came a whisper from the shadows.
“Benton?” Drake frowned as his first mate came toward him. “Why are you skulking out here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You could have come to the door. The footmen would have let you in.”
He grimaced. “Those high sticklers don’t want my company, and I don’t want theirs.” Shaking his head, he said, “My ma was a kitchen maid in a fine house like this one. She was not allowed to look any of the family in the eye, and she had to curtsy when they walked by, even when it was one of the young ones and her knees were stiff and painful.” He shook his head. “I have no use for toplofty people.”
“Even the Trelawneys?”
Benton hesitated, then cleared his throat. “They seem like decent people, but we cannot forget who we are and who they are, Captain. When push comes to shove, they won’t ever let us forget it.”
Disliking the course of the conversation, which came too close to what he had been thinking about the earl’s guests, Drake asked, “Why did you come here? Not to warn me to watch my back around the ton, I assume.”
“Nay.” He straightened and grinned. “The Kestrel is shipshape, Captain. All the holes are plugged. Even so, I want one final inspection. We have gone over every inch of her, but better to be safe than sorry.”
Drake smiled. His first mate had gained wisdom in the years he had been working on The Kestrel. Drake would miss him when Benton had a ship of his own, but he did not want to hold his first mate back.
“Do that, Benton.”
“We will be ready to sail on the morning tide.”
Cold slashed Drake, washing away his excitement at hearing that his ship was repaired. Sailing? Away from Susanna? Away from the children? Somehow, he said, “Thank you, Benton.”
“Will you want to inspect the holds, Captain?”
“When I return. I cannot be down in the holds in a lord’s heir’s fine clothing, can I?”
Benton snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot.” He dodged back into the shadow and brought out a bag. “Here are clothes. I figured you would want to leave the other things here so we are not delayed leaving Porthlowen.”
“Good thinking.” He took the bag and thanked his first mate again before Benton returned to the ship.
Drake tossed the bag over his shoulder and went to the low wall that offered a view of the sea. His boots bounced against his back, a reminder he was no fine milord and should not be wearing dancing shoes. He was a working man with salt-stained boots.
Setting the bag on the ground by the stone wall, he sat and gazed down at the harbor. The Kestrel was rising along with the tide that swept around the curve of the cliffs. She floated proudly, straining at the ropes holding her to the pier. She was ready to ride the waves between here and their next destination. His beloved ship. His home. His refuge.
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust.
The words burst from a very old memory, of a time when he had felt welcome with his parents’ neighbors before they had made it clear he was not part of their family. Someone had been reading from the Bible. From Psalms, if he remembered correctly.
Had it been so simple all along? When he had felt most alone and most betrayed by love, God had been there, waiting for him to reach out and ask for a refuge from sorrow and pain. God had loved him, even when he believed himself unlovable.
As Susanna had.
He looked at the house. Light from the ballroom splashed onto the grass. He stared at the lights, crisscrossed by shadows, then down at himself in his borrowed finery. What was he doing amid the ton? He was the son of a sailor who had abandoned him. Despite that, he had come from nothing to being the master of his own ship. Those accomplishments meant nothing to the people twirling about to the music and gossiping.
But they meant a lot to Susanna.
Susanna... To live his life upon the sea, he would have to abandon his wife and any children as surely as his own parents had left him behind. He could not ask that of any woman, but most especially he could not ask that of Susanna. She had been deserted once already by someone she believed loved her, and she would be deserted by her snobbish neighbors if she, assuming she loved him, accepted his proposal. She would be marrying far below her. She might not understand what that meant, but he did. The people in that ballroom who had treated her with respect would snub her the next time they met. How could he consign someone he loved to that?
Pushing himself to his feet, he yanked off the borrowed coat. He heard a thread snap and took more care as he folded it before placing it on the wall. Unbuttoning the waistcoat, he did the same. He sat on the wall and pulled his boots out of the bag. He kicked off the shoes and drew on his familiar boots. They did not shine in the moonlight, but they were comfortable.
He stood, and the wind whipped his full sleeves as it would when he stood on The Kestrel’s deck and gave orders to his crew. Every wave offered another chance for an adventure; every horizon led to wondrous lands. That was his life. Not this one, where he would not be any more welcome than he had been with those neighbors in Plymouth.
It was past time for him to think of his obligation to his ship and his crew...and to his dream of a trading fleet sailing at his command.
* * *
Elisabeth smiled at Susanna, then looked past her. “Where is Drake? Isn’t he joining us for supper?”
“I was about to ask if you had seen him.”
“No, but it is impossible to see everyone in this crush.” She gave Susanna a quick hug. “Thank you for your help in making our wedding day so memorable.”
“I am glad that you are now truly my sister.” Even as she smiled at Elisabeth, she was looking around the room.
“Go and find Drake!” Elisabeth chuckled. “We have a lifetime as sisters to talk.”
Susanna nodded and stepped aside to let someone else speak with the bride. She had already made two circuits of the ballroom without seeing Drake. Papa had told her that Drake had excused himself shortly after Susanna went with Norah. Where was he? She even sent a maid to check the nursery to discover if he had gone to see the children. He had not, so where was he?
“Lady Susanna,” asked Venton as she walked past him for the third time, “are you looking for Captain Nesbitt?”
“Yes. Have you seen him?”
“He left the ballroom about half an hour ago. He was headed toward the back garden. You might look for him there.”
“Thank you, Venton.” She gave her longtime friend a grin and a wave before she set off in what she hoped was finally the right direction.
The house seemed oddly silent and empty once Susanna returned to the family wing. The servants were tending to the guests in the ballroom and the large dining room.
A cool wind blew past the open French windows in the small parlor. Going to the doors, she looked out. She had to give her eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness before she noticed the pale glow of moonlight reflecting off a shirt by the low wall.
She bit her lower lip to silence her gasp as she watched the wind press the lawn back against Drake’s brawny arms. She longed to have them open wide to welcome her into them.
He did not turn as she walked to where he stood. “Drake, we are about to go in to supper.”
Pushing away from the wall, he faced her. The light from the house created deep shadows on his face’s strong planes. “Susanna, I am sorry.”
“Sorry?” She looked down at the neatly folded clothing. “You changed?”
“No, I have not changed, and that is why I am saying I am sorry.”
“I don’t understand. If you do not want to join us, that is fine. I know you are conc
erned about the progress of the repairs on The Kestrel.”
“No longer.”
“Why?”
“They are finished.”
She pressed her hand over her faltering heart. “Finished?”
He nodded. “So there is no reason for The Kestrel not to sail on the morning tide.”
His silhouette grew blurry as tears filled her eyes. “Are you sure there is no reason?”
“Susanna, you knew this day was coming. I am the captain of The Kestrel. My crew and my customers depend on me.” His voice had no more emotion than if he spoke of how the sun would rise on the morrow.
“Will you at least say goodbye to Lulu and Moll and the other children?”
“The morning tide comes very early. There is no need to wake them when they will not understand why I am saying goodbye.”
I don’t understand why you are saying goodbye, either, she wanted to shout.
“They will miss you,” she whispered.
“And I will miss them.” He looked past her to his ship.
“They will not understand why you are abandoning them as their own families did. How can you do that to them when you know firsthand how they will feel?”
He flinched but kept staring at his ship. His beloved ship. The one he loved more than he loved the children. The ship he loved more than he loved her.
“They will find their ways, as I did.”
“That is a cruel thing to say.”
“I don’t mean for it to be cruel, Susanna.” He finally turned back to her. “I am a sailor. I have never pretended to be anything else.” His voice hardened. “Except tonight, when I let myself be drawn into a masquerade. Maybe someday, when I am the owner of a grand fleet of ships that don’t have to accept a pittance in exchange for transporting cargo, I will be accepted by the people in there as worthy of their company.”
Her eyes widened. “Is this about Mr. Miller? I heard some of what he said, and you heard what Caroline said. Don’t let yourself be chased away by an encroaching mushroom who is only pleasant to those he believes will help him with his climb into Society.”
“It is not about Mr. Miller. I have met his like before, and I will meet it again.” For the first time, his voice broke from its cool tones as he said, “But I will never meet anyone like you again, Susanna.”
She grasped his hands and entwined her fingers with his. “Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”
“I must.” He drew his hands away, and suddenly there was an uncrossable chasm between them. “I made myself a promise years ago that I would grasp the dream that everyone said would be impossible for a boy discarded by his own parents. When others laughed and called me a fool, I didn’t care. I knew I would someday have my dream. I am partway there by being master of The Kestrel. I must not stop now.”
Susanna bit her lip as she stepped past him and pretended to look out over the cove. She could see nothing as tears blinded her. Why had she been fooling herself with the idea of a future that included Captain Drake Nesbitt? The Kestrel was his world, and he had no wish to leave his life upon the sea. He had never lied to her, but her heart had. Just as it had before when she believed herself in love with Franklin. Now she had learned that the feelings she had for him paled in comparison with what she felt for Drake.
“You speak of success, Drake. What of love? Does that matter to you, or are you interested only in thumbing your nose at those who left you on your own?”
Chapter Eighteen
Drake wished Susanna would face him, but why would she when he had turned his back on her in every possible way? Was she right? Was his dream meant only to prove to those who had overlooked him that they had been fools?
He had so many questions, but he asked, “Do you love me, Susanna?”
“The children adore you,” she answered, and he knew she would not answer his question. Because she loved him or because she did not? “I don’t know how you can leave them without saying goodbye.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged them off as he turned her toward him. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he asked himself if he was doing the right thing. How could he stay when he knew no other life than the sea? Maybe once he had another ship or two... He could not ask her to wait for him, and what if she did not want to? Ruby had not wanted to wait, and he had been wrong to insist. Perhaps it was unfair even to ask Susanna if she would, because staying in her life could ruin it when the ton could not forgive her for spending it with a man in trade.
“We have been living a fantasy,” he said quietly.
“What I feel is real,” she insisted. “I thought you felt the same way.”
“I do, but I should not.” He shook his head, knowing he must tell her the truth. “You are an earl’s daughter. I have never known my parents. The gap between us is too wide.”
“You are being foolish.”
“No, I am finally not being foolish. I am sorry, Susanna. I knew how this would end right from the beginning, and I should not have let it get this far. Any relationship between us has been doomed from the outset.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I know it to be the truth.” He ran his fingers along her cheek, knowing it might be the last time he ever touched her. “I know because I made this exact same mistake before. I fell in love once with a woman named Ruby. Her father was a baronet, who would never have accepted me. For Ruby, I was just entertainment until she could find a man with enough status to please her father. She promised to wait for me when I went to sea, but she never intended to keep that promise.”
“And you believe I would do the same?”
He shook his head. “No, but I cannot ask you to give up everything for the nothing I can offer you. Would you give up your family? The children?” When she opened her mouth, he put his finger to her lips, savoring this final moment. “No, Susanna, there is nothing you can say to change my mind. I care about you too much to ask you to make that sacrifice.”
“So you will go, and that’s it?” Her voice hardened on each word, and he knew he had wounded her far more than anyone else ever had.
“I will stop when we come back this way,” he struggled to say.
“Before you leave again? Don’t you realize that you will hurt them each time you do that?”
Again she spoke only of the children. Did she love him? Would she give him a reason to stay, even though his being in her life could ruin it, dragging her down from her prestigious place as an earl’s daughter?
What was he thinking? It was better this way. Hearing her say that she loved him might make him throw aside caution and ruin her life. But, if it was better, why did it feel as if he had made the biggest mistake of his life?
“Then maybe I should not come back at all,” he said.
“If you think that is best...” She gathered her gown in both hands and ran into the house.
His heart went with her. Having a part of him remain in Porthlowen was cold comfort, but it was all he had.
* * *
Susanna turned the page on the accounts book, then grimaced as she realized she had not given the ink on the previous leaf time to dry. More than an hour’s work smudged and ruined. She would have to tear out the page and make the entries again.
Slamming the book closed, she shoved back her chair. It was useless. Her mind was filled with the horrible conversation she had had with Drake in the back garden last night.
She considered—again—going to see the children. She pushed the thought away. They were sure to ask about Cap and when they would see him. Breaking their little hearts was something she could not do when her own was shattered. She had no idea if anyone else in the house had noticed that The Kestrel was gone.
The door opened, and her sister walked in. Without a word, Caroline cross
ed the room and embraced Susanna. Weak tears squeezed into Susanna’s eyes again, but she refused to let them fall.
Caroline stepped back and shook her head. “I am sorry, little sister.”
“I am fine.” She returned to the desk and reopened the accounts book to a page that was not ruined. “Did you need something? As you know as well as I do, it is important to take advantage of the time when the children are otherwise entertained to work.”
Caroline pulled a chair closer to the desk and sat. She said nothing, and the silence thickened around them.
When Susanna could endure it no more, she looked up at her sister, who sat with her arms folded over her chest. Never before had she looked so much like their mother.
When she had been disappointed in Susanna.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You know quite well.” Caroline’s tone was cool. “You are making the biggest mistake of your life. How could you let Captain Nesbitt leave?”
“I did not let him leave. He went.”
“But you did not follow.”
“Would you have me run after him, shouting out my feelings?”
“Why not?”
Susanna pushed back her chair and stood, unable to meet her sister’s stern gaze any longer. “That is absurd.”
“Is it? You lost one man because you never told him how you felt.”
“He fell in love with someone else.” She must not reveal the truth she had learned last night because she had promised Norah never to speak of how Franklin had not sired her oldest. And she would keep that promise. For Norah. For Franklin. For the daughter who called them her parents. Hadn’t she learned that love did not depend on blood? “It has worked out for the best because they now have a lovely family.”
“But Franklin was in love with you first. He tried to show you in every possible way with kindnesses and attention. All you had to do was lower that blasted wall you have built around yourself, because you feel you have to take care of everything and everyone.” She shook her head sadly. “Everyone but yourself. If you had given him any sign that you shared his feelings, he would have happily married you.”