Love and Adventure Collection - Part 1 (Love and Adventure Boxed Sets)

by Jennifer Blake

  “While you take my father’s place, seeing after M’sieu Robeaud?”

  “Exactly.”

  “You realize you are speaking of months of confinement in my cabin on this ship, without friends and with precious little to occupy my time?”

  “You will be fed and you will have a warm and comfortable place to sleep, which is more than many in your position can say.”

  Gold flecks of rage glittered in her eyes. “I find I cannot work up a proper gratitude for food and comfort provided by the money my father paid out to commission your ship for this venture!”

  “That’s as may be,” he ground out, his face hardening at the suggestion that he was battening on the money borrowed by her father. “Nevertheless, these two are the choices you have.”

  “To marry you or to be left on the ship at the mercy of your men?”

  “I will undertake to guarantee your safety.”

  “Will you indeed? And, how do you propose to do that when you will be thousands of miles away?”

  “If it troubles you so, then I suppose you had best choose marriage!” he said, his voice climbing as hers rose.

  “I think not!” Even as she threw the defiance at him, she knew that it was futile. What else could she do? She could not go back to New Orleans, abandoning all chance of placing her plight before the emperor to throw herself on the doubtful mercy of her estranged relatives. Nor could she hope to exist alone in London without money for the weeks that must elapse before the East Indiaman sailed.

  Her head came up. “There is one other possibility,” she said slowly.

  “I am waiting to hear it,” he said when she did not go on.

  “I could marry Marcel de Gruys.” The moment the words were out she regretted them. It was as though she had made a dangerous commitment.

  The chair creaked as Captain Thorpe leaned back. “I assume he has made you an offer.”

  “We were — discussing it when you sent Jeremy for me.”

  “And yet, I think you said you did not mind being interrupted.”

  Julia felt the flush of rage mount once more to her hairline. She clenched her hands together to stop their trembling. “I was not aware of the necessity for haste in making him an answer.”

  “You mean because of your financial straits? I wonder if de Gruys is aware that you will come to him, for all purposes, a dowerless bride?”

  She wished there were some way she could remove the sardonic smile from his face. “I don’t think that need concern you,” she managed without allowing the quiver in her throat to be heard in her voice.

  “You are mistaken. Your father, before he died, realized the problems you would have to face. He asked me to look after you, and I accepted that responsibility. I don’t believe he would have approved of Marcel de Gruys as a husband for you, and therefore, I cannot allow you to marry him.”

  “You — you can’t do that!” she exclaimed incredulously.

  “I think you will find I can. I told you once before — aboard this ship my word is law. If you are wise, you will forget de Gruys and confine yourself to making one or the other of the choices I have outlined.”

  “You are insufferable! You know no one could tolerate being incarcerated on this ship for months on end.”

  “Then, it appears you will have to marry me, doesn’t it?” he said softly, but without joy.

  Back in her cabin, Julia snatched her nightgown from her trunk, slammed down the lid, and tossed the length of dimity onto her bunk. She jerked the pins from her hair, showering them over the top of the washstand. Taking up her silver-backed hairbrush, she brushed her hair with vicious swipes, a frown of fury drawing her brows together as she thought of the things Rudyard Thorpe had said to her. She would not marry him. She would not! She would not meekly give in and accept his solution, no matter what he said. There had to be another way. How, oh how she wished she were a man. She would snap her fingers in Captain Thorpe’s face and walk away. She would need no one’s aid or protection, she would be self-sufficient, able to make her own way in the world. A dream, only a dream.

  Marcel. He was her best chance of escape. She could not visualize herself married to him, could not think what kind of husband he would make, but anything was better than taking the hard, supercilious captain of the Sea Jade to wed.

  Why was he so determined to be her husband? She could not believe there was not more to it than he had deigned to tell her. Still, what it could be she could not imagine. She could not flatter herself that he could not live without her. Surely, if that were so, he could have found a more convincing way of couching his proposal. Persuasion, courtship, would have been much likelier ways of going about the matter. She tried to feature the captain in such a gentle guise and failed dismally. She knew very well that the more violent emotion of lust could be cloaked under courtship also, but she had seen little indication of an overwhelming passion. He had looked at her as if he would rather wring her neck than take her into the marriage bed. She suspected that he did not care much for women.

  Julia, mistress for more than six years to several hundred slaves in New Orleans and at Beau Bocage, was not ignorant of the nature of human procreation. Called upon to treat cuts and bruises, dispense medicines, settle family disputes which might include infidelity, adultery, even bigamy, help the midwives deliver babies, and close the eyes of the dying, she was no stranger to the foibles of men and women. She was aware of the pleasure which could come to women through marriage, and of the pain. She could not bear to think of submitting to either from a man who was not only uncaring, but antagonistic.

  But, suppose she had misread the intention of Captain Thorpe? What if he had been offering her a marriage of convenience, one which could be dissolved by annulment when it no longer served a useful purpose? If that were the case, his conduct became much more reasonable. It was possible she had been too hasty. She should have questioned him in more detail. Or, should she? If that was what he had in mind, why couldn’t he have said so? As soon as Napoleon was in power and the money her father had expended had been returned to her, the responsibility Captain Thorpe took so seriously would be at an end. With her fortune restored, she could return to New Orleans — or perhaps buy a house in Paris, where in the fullness of time, with a respectable dowry to offer, she could choose a man to suit herself. It would be a marriage of affection and trust and comfort. She would be loved and cherished instead of treated with suspicion and threatened into obedience.

  She would not obey. It made no difference what kind of marriage Captain Rudyard Thorpe envisioned, she would have no part of it. No matter what she had to do, she would not be his wife.

  Carefully, she laid down her hairbrush. Stretching, she undid the small buttons which fastened her gown, then pulled it off over her head. She removed her underskirt and chemise, then slipped her nightgown down over her breasts and hips, smoothing it into place. A quick puff of air extinguished the candle burning on the washstand, and its afterglow lasted long enough for her to step to her bunk and lie down, pulling the sheet over her. For a long time, she lay with burning eyes, staring into the darkness. The ship rose and fell, rose and fell. She could hear the waves as they washed along the hull, a sighing sound. She thought of her father somewhere behind them, turning in his cold waterlogged canvas, never still, never warm. Slowly, her eyelids fell, and from beneath their gritty weight slid the hot and salty tears.

  4

  “Tell me, Mr. Free, why it is that your captain has such a dislike for women?”

  Julia strolled with her fingers in the crook of the first mate’s arm. A fresh wind flapped her pelerine about her and filled the white sails overhead to bursting. The sun glittered on the deep-blue water and streaked with silver the small flying fish which leaped about the ship.

  “Dislike, ma’am? Where did you get that idea?” He grinned down at her, willing to be amused.

  “It isn’t an idea. I feel a distinct chill in the air when he speaks to me. If I am not to credit h
im with a dislike of women in general, I will be forced to concede that it is only me he cannot abide.”

  “I’m sure you are mistaken.”

  “And, I’m sure I am not!”

  “Rud — that is, Captain Thorpe — has a certain reserve about him. He isn’t an easy man for anybody to get to know.”

  “And yet, you stand on terms of friendship with him,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, but I’ve known him for years. As boys, we used to play together, though he was somewhat older — six years my senior, in fact.”

  She glanced up at him in perplexity. “How does this come about? I understood that Captain Thorpe was an Englishman.”

  “It’s my belief he holds dual citizenship. His father was an American, but he was born in England of an English mother. His father’s people were early settlers in Baltimore. During the Revolution, they remained staunch Tories and lost a great deal of their fortune because of it. When the conflict was over, they sent their son, Rud’s father, to England to round off his education. What they failed to realize was that their son did not follow their political leanings. He was first of all an American, and the treatment he received as a boorish colonial did nothing to change that. While visiting with friends, he met and married a young Englishwoman. She refused to leave her parents or her country, and for a time, her husband was content to work with her brother in the offices of the East India Company. A child was born, Rud. When the boy was ten, his father left England for America, went into a shipbuilding enterprise, and set himself up in competition with the East India Company for the tea trade. In 1811, he laid the hull of the Sea Jade, though she was christened the Felicity when she came off the slips. She was ready just in time for the hostilities that broke out between England and the United States the next year, and was commissioned a privateer with Rud’s father as captain.”

  “And, all this time his wife and son were in England?”

  “His wife still refused to join him, but she did allow his son to spend several months out of each year with his father. That was when I got to know him, during the summers when he stayed with his father and grandparents in Baltimore. Then, as he grew older, he didn’t come as often. He was at Oxford, then we heard he had joined the army, a dragoon regiment. Odd to think about, but a few years back he must have been fighting the emperor.”

  “Odd indeed,” she echoed, frowning. She could not imagine why it had not been mentioned before.

  “It was the winter of 1814, Rud was on leave in London, while the Felicity was patrolling the Irish Channel on blockade and doing a fine job of it. The privateers had nearly brought English shipping to a standstill. Some were bolder than others. Rud’s father actually landed on the coast of England and made his way to London to see his wife and son. As he made his way back to his ship after one of these visits, he was ambushed and killed.”

  The toneless quality of Jeremy’s voice made Julia turn her head quickly to stare at him. “He was discovered by naval patrols?”

  “There was, of course, no official report of the incident. Rud has always believed that there was information lodged against him. You see, Rud’s mother had been involved with a certain gentleman, some say an intimate of the prince regent, and it was a little inconvenient to have a husband dropping by unexpectedly.”

  “You mean she betrayed him?” Julia exclaimed.

  “So, Rud believes. After Waterloo, he left the army and came back to the United States, where he gradually stepped into his father’s shoes. The Felicity was standing offshore when Rud’s father was taken, and the ship escaped without hindrance. Rud took her, renamed her, made a couple of runs down to the West Indies. He was planning to deliver a cargo of cotton to Liverpool, then set sail in the direction of China, when he was approached by your father.”

  “I think I begin to understand,” she said. “I take it the name of his ship has nothing to do with the color green?”

  “You have that right. A jade is a faithless woman, and I suppose all sailors view the sea as female, hence the Sea Jade.”

  “And, you still contend your captain has no grudge against women?”

  He shook his head. “He never has much to do with the harbor women when we’re in port, but I’ve always thought that was because he preferred quality, if you take my meaning, ma’am, and not intending any offense. There are a lot of us like that.”

  Julia sent him an oblique glance. It was nice to know that Jeremy Free wished her to think well of his friend, and also of himself, but it did little to ease her mind. She supposed she would have to be satisfied with the information she had managed to draw from the first mate.

  “You — you won’t tell Rud I spoke of his mother, will you? He’s a bit touchy on the subject. I should never have mentioned it, and I wouldn’t have, except I, well, I was thinking out loud.”

  “Oh no,” she answered with great certainty. “I would never mention it, I wouldn’t dare!”

  “Wouldn’t dare what?”

  At the sound of the captain’s voice behind her, Julia swung around. Jeremy looked over his shoulder with an awkward smile, a trace of red showing beneath the freckles which dotted the bridge of his nose.

  “Nothing of importance,” Julia replied, her voice holding a sulky note even to her own ears. She had not seen Rudyard Thorpe since the interview in his cabin. What had passed between them at that meeting effectively prevented her from the kind of light, smiling retort which might have passed over the pause gracefully.

  “As my fiancée, everything you do or say is of importance to me,” Captain Thorpe said, lifting her hand to carry it to his lips. She felt the warmth of his firm mouth through her kidskin glove. The tightness of his grip warned her it would be useless to resist. She let her hand lie where he placed it, covered with his own, on his arm.

  “Your fiancée?” Jeremy Free repeated.

  “We reached an agreement last night,” Captain Thorpe said, smiling down at her with a look which made her want to scratch his eyes out.

  “I see,” Jeremy said, though the expression in his face as he glanced at Julia was puzzled and a little hurt. “My congratulations to both of you.”

  “Thank you. And now, though I hate to mention such a word as duty—”

  “Yes, of course,” Jeremy said, his flush becoming more pronounced. Inclining his head, he walked away.

  “I am not going to marry you!” Julia said in a furious undertone. She tried to remove her hand from his arm, but he would not release it. Face bland, he moved off in the opposite direction from that Jeremy had taken. She was forced to walk beside him.

  “Why didn’t you say as much to Jeremy just now?”

  “I was taken by surprise, but in any case, it will be much more diverting to see what you will have to say in explanation when I fail to become your wife.”

  “A shame that you will never see it, since it would have amused you.”

  Julia mistrusted such affability on his part. She glanced at him without answering.

  “There is a point I would like to make, however. As much as it may give you pleasure to try to circumvent me, you will be well advised to leave Jeremy Free out of your calculations.”

  “I don’t understand you,” she said, staring out over the rail to where the flying fish played.

  “I think you do, but I will speak plainer. Don’t enlist his aid in your cause. He is the kind of young man who takes things seriously. He is too earnest, too kind, for his own good, and much too valuable to me to risk coming to blows with him over a woman.”

  “Shouldn’t you look at your own conduct, then?” she suggested.

  “I would, if I thought it would serve. Unfortunately, he would take it amiss, I’m sure, if I now spurned you. He is also a romantic.”

  “Something no one could accuse you of, captain.”

  “I trust not,” he answered, a lifted brow lending the sting of irony to his words. He allowed a few minutes of silence to slide past as they walked. At the door to the companionway, he st
opped. “Since you are my bride-to-be, it will look better if you call me by my given name, don’t you think?”

  Annoyance at his ability to have the last word made her unwary. She turned on him, her eyes flashing, voice rising. “I am not your—”

  She got no further. He reached for her, sweeping her hard against his chest. The breath left her lungs in a gasp. His lips stopped the words in her throat. Firm, burning, they possessed hers, driving all thought from her mind as in shock and confusion of the senses she clung to him.

  A ragged cheer followed by a catcall signaled the interest of the crew in the spectacle. Julia stiffened, resisting the arms which held her. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Rud raised his head. Without acknowledging the audience in any way, he pushed open the door of the companionway and urged her inside.

  From the bottom of the stairs, she looked back, a growing wrath darkening the amber of her eyes. He had not descended, but stayed where he was, one hand still on the door, the other braced on the jam. A peculiar tension seemed to grip him and a mirthless smile twisted his mouth. He inclined his head. “I will see you later,” he said, and swung the door shut above her.

  Julia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could not cause a scene. The last thing she wanted was to face the seamen on the upper decks again. She was not even certain she wanted any further contact with Rudyard Thorpe at this particular moment, but he would not, she vowed, get away with his highhanded treatment of her.

  Straightening her pelerine, which had been twisted over her shoulder, she turned in the direction of her cabin. She checked, one hand going to her hair, at the sight of a man lounging in the doorway of the saloon, then, schooling her features to composure she continued toward Marcel.

  “I thought from the noise topside that we were being boarded by pirates at the very least,” he drawled.