by Lucy Monroe
How long had she been aboard? Long enough to hear the story of his background and determine not to be seen in his company? With her voracious curiosity, it was possible. Ruthlessly forcing down his disappointment, he said, "If you would prefer not to, of course I understand." He turned to resume the move of the boiler, but her words arrested him.
"It's not that. My maid, Melly, gets seasick and I don't want to abandon her if she needs me."
He nodded, unwilling to acknowledge his strong sense of relief. He could not allow this woman to become important to him. He needed to focus on his goal of reaching Liverpool in five short weeks—a nearly impossible task, one that would be even more difficult if he allowed himself to get sidetracked by an intriguing female.
"A place will be set for you at the captain's table. If you are not there, we will understand why." As the owner of the ship, he shared the captain's table for all formal meals. It was expected of him and he enjoyed the man's company.
"That isn't necessary, truly."
Why did she insist on arguing with him over every little thing? She should be grateful. Passengers vied for a place at the captain's table. Not only was it prestigious to be chosen to dine with the captain, but fond mamas with unmarried daughters also vied for the opportunity to bring their offspring to Drake's attention. "I will instruct the steward to seat you beside me."
She did not look grateful. She looked irritated.
Pulling her arm from his grasp, she swung her body and parasol around to face him squarely. "Mr. Drake, I appreciate your offer, but I must decline. I should feel very badly leaving an empty place at the captain's table."
"I will send someone to sit with your maid should the need arise so that you will not concern yourself about leaving a vacant seat." He didn't know why he was being so insistent, but the thought of her sitting at another table sharing conversation with the male passengers gnawed at him.
She blew out a breath in exasperation. "Thank you."
He almost smiled as he realized manners had forced her to acquiesce when she clearly did not wish to.
"I believe I will retire to my cabin and check on Melly."
Good idea. What she was doing on the deck in the first place without her maid, he did not know, but someone needed to take the strong-minded female in hand. "In the future, bring your maid with you when you walk the deck."
"Oh." If her spine got any straighter, the first mate could use her as a line for his navigation. "I am years past needing a nursemaid, I can assure you."
"I did not suggest you seek one out. It is a lady's maid you seem to have forgotten on this particular stroll, Miss Selwyn."
Her expression turned arctic. "I do not need you or anyone else to dictate my behavior. If I choose to walk about on deck unescorted by my maid, then I will do so."
She punctuated her words with shakes to her parasol. Twice it came perilously close to hitting him in the face. Snapping his fingers around the handle, he held it in place.
Meeting her glare for glare, he said, "No, you will not."
She yanked on her parasol. "Excuse me."
He let go just as she yanked again. Her momentum carried her back against one of the sailors, who took obvious delight in catching her. One look from Drake and the sailor let her go without a single ribald comment.
She made a show of smoothing her gown and adjusting her parasol. "If you are finished issuing superfluous orders, I will leave you to your boiler problems."
Drake was conscious of the amusement of the sailors witnessing this exchange. He abandoned his stance near the boiler and walked toward Thea, pleased when she began to back up. He did not stop until her back was pressed against the ship rail and he was mere inches from her body.
He leaned down until his face was so close she would be certain not to miss his words. "I own this ship. The only man aboard who would dare to refuse my order is the captain, and even he would consider it carefully before doing so. I suggest you follow his good example."
Wide eyes stared back at him as her breathing grew rapid. "What if my maid is sick the entire voyage? You cannot expect me to stay in my cabin for six to eight weeks."
A soft curl of chestnut escaped the confines of her pins. He wanted to wrap it around his fingers and pull her face the remaining distance until their lips met. Suppressing the urge with a supreme act of will, he forced his mind to assimilate her statement.
"Five weeks."
Her eyes were fixed on his lips. "What?"
"Five weeks. We will be in Liverpool in five weeks."
Her head snapped back. "But that's impossible. None of our ships have ever made the voyage in less than six weeks. You cannot possibly believe you will make it in five."
He gave in to the urge and touched the strand of hair. It felt like the silk thread his mother used to do needlepoint. "We will make it in five weeks."
"Not if we don't get this boiler back on the engine."
The sailor's voice jolted Drake back to reality. He dropped Thea's hair and stepped away. Without saying anything else to her, he turned back to the boiler. Her blue eyes and soft little body tempted him, but he would not forget his duty.
* * *
Chapter 4
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Langley arrived unexpectedly to berate me for sneaking in my attempts to see my son. Had he arrived but five minutes earlier, he would have caught me rocking Thea to sleep for her afternoon nap. He had the gall to accuse me of being without integrity. I do not know what to do. I cannot see my son and if I stay here, I may very well lose my daughter.
June 12, 1798
Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley
Melly's prayers appeared to have gone awry because they weren't two hours out of port and she was already intimately acquainted with the chamber pot. "Oh, miss, this rocking is sending my stomach into my toes."
Thea thought the ship's rocking rather mild, but elected not to mention it. The sound of her maid being ill was having its own effect on Thea.
She breathed deeply, regretting the action almost immediately. "Melly, I believe I'll just open the door and let some air in."
"Yes, miss, that's a good idea."
Thea opened the door and was startled by the presence of a young seaman on the other side.
The sailor's arms were full of bundles, which he thrust toward Thea. "Compliments of Mr. Drake."
She stared down at the bundles wrapped in rough cotton that rubbed against her skin. The odor of ginger and cinnamon was unmistakable in the small confines of the cabin.
"What are they?" She didn't understand. Why had Drake sent her spices?
"Ginger tea, miss, and soda crackers. There's some salt beef and biscuits too."
"Salt beef?" Did her voice sound as confused as she felt?
The sailor nodded, his mouth split wide in a grin. "Nothing better aboard ship for settling a stomach. Most passengers won't eat it. Think it's fit only for the crew. Be a lot less green around the gills if they did, miss."
Drake had sent seasickness remedies for Melly.
"I'll try it. I'll try anything," vowed the maid as she attempted to sit up on the bunk.
"Yes'm. I'll be back with some hot water for the tea."
Thea collected her wits about her. "Thank you. That is very kind. Please thank Mr. Drake as well."
"Yes'm. I'll go for the water now."
She let him go without further protest. Drake had shown concern for Melly's comfort. Thea did not generally associate overbearing arrogance with consideration. Surely he was too busy with the repairs to his ship's engine to be bothered.
However, the inescapable fact was that he had bothered. "Mr. Drake is a thoughtful gentleman."
"He's shown us consideration," Thea agreed.
Remembering the way he had held her in the warehouse that morning, Thea doubted his gentlemanly instincts were overpoweringly strong, however.
"I know your sainted mother warned you against giving your heart unwisely, but I'm sure she didn'
t mean you to mistrust every man you meet."
"I don't. I trust some men."
Melly snorted. "Who, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I trust Uncle Ashby. I trust Jacob and Philippe."
In fact, she'd trusted Philippe enough to tell him a little of her plan and ask him to watch over Uncle Ashby while she was gone. Surprisingly, he'd agreed without a huge argument about her stated intentions to investigate the ledger discrepancies.
"That's three men you've known most of your life and all of them old enough to be your father or grandfather. You don't fool me, miss. You don't trust young gentlemen and that's a fact."
Thea finished depositing the bundles on top of the small table that made up part of the meager furnishings of her cabin. "I see no reason to trust a man just because he calls himself a gentleman. My mother trusted my father, and look where that got her."
Melly gripped her stomach and moaned.
Thea rushed to her side and pressed a biscuit into her hand. "Try to eat this. The sailor said it would help, and he ought to know."
The maid took a small bite and chewed it slowly. Her mobcap had gone askew and her black bombazine dress was rumpled. Thea had often wondered how the maid could stand the heavy folds of fabric she insisted were proper to a woman of her station.
"Your mother had you, and she never regretted it."
"Yes, but she lost my brother, and she never got over that."
"I often wondered if we'd gone back to England, if your father would have relented. His anger had to spend itself eventually."
Thea looked askance at Melly. "You were there the day he took Jared away. You must know he would never have relented. He is much too hard a man, vicious in his proud certainty that he could never be wrong." Not to mention that, eventually, there had been no choice.
Anna Langley could not have returned to England had she wanted to, not and take up her rightful place as Countess of Langley.
Melly took another nibble of the biscuit and chewed in silence. When she spoke again, Thea was surprised.
"I was there the day your mother told him she never wanted to see him again, too. The look on his face when he left… If you ask me, he finally realized he'd lost her."
"He didn't want her. He was, and no doubt still is, a monster."
Melly shook her head. "You never saw him with her in the beginning. He treated her like she was glass. It was only after that blackguard told Lord Langley that his wife had been unfaithful that he changed."
Frowning, Thea unwrapped the salt beef and sliced a piece off with the knife provided. "I never saw him at all. He should have believed Mama, not some rake with a terrible reputation with women."
"Aye, but jealousy does funny things to a gentleman. Anyway, you'll be seeing him now, won't you?"
Not if she could help it. Thea had no desire to meet the man who had treated her mother so cruelly.
Thea moaned and turned in the small bunk, trying to find a comfortable position. After drinking the ginger tea, Melly had lain down and gone to sleep. Thea wished she could find the oblivion of slumber. Her stomach felt as if someone had tied it in loop knots and was drawing the string tight.
The steward had come to escort her to dinner, and she'd sent him away with a message for Drake that she was indisposed. He would probably believe she was defying him on purpose. She didn't care. She just wanted to be left alone. Her stomach hurt, her head felt as if fish were swimming in it, and her mouth tasted like sea brine.
She moaned again, trying to do it quietly so as not to wake her maid. She needn't have worried. Melly snored and flung one arm over her face. Thea wondered if there wasn't something besides ginger in the tea. The maid's sleep was terribly deep. Lucky woman.
A peremptory knock sounded at the door. She ignored it. Probably that blasted steward again, come to insist she join Drake for dinner.
The knock sounded again and Melly stirred in her sleep. Thea gritted her teeth, but knew she had to get up. It wouldn't be fair to wake the maid to experience more of this misery. She cautiously slid her legs over the side of the bed as the pounding resumed on the door. Someone was shouting something on the other side, but she couldn't understand him. The roaring in her ears blocked out the noise.
She hobbled to the door, furious with whoever was on the other side. If she didn't feel so bloody awful, she would give him a speaking-to he wouldn't soon forget. She pulled on the latch of the door, opening it a crack, and shivered at the gust of air that pressed into the airless cabin. Surely they were not so far from her island that the weather had turned cold?
"What?" She meant to snap out the question to whomever dared to force her from the relative comfort of her berth, but her voice came out raspy.
"Miss Selwyn? Are you all right?"
Her gaze traveled up the perfectly tailored breeches to Drake's well-fitting coat. It finally made it to his face. He was frowning.
"I will not be able to join you for dinner this evening." She never wanted to eat again.
Drake pushed the door to her cabin completely open. She would have protested, but couldn't summon the energy for the effort. He took hold of her arms as if he thought she might fall. His skin was so much warmer than hers. It would no doubt shock him beyond measure if she pressed her body against his to soak up some of his warmth.
"Why didn't you tell the steward you were sick? Where are the things I sent earlier?"
"Melly ate them. She's feeling much better. Thank you."
There. She'd done her polite duty. Now if he would just let her lie back in her bed to die in peace.
"You aren't going to die."
Mortified, Thea realized she'd spoken aloud. "How do you know? You've probably never had a day of seasickness in your life." She sounded pitiful and she didn't care.
He grinned. "I've seen enough of it to know it isn't lethal."
She frowned at his apparent good humor. "So you say."
"So I know." He moved a hand around her shoulder.
She would have scolded him for taking such liberties, but suddenly his other hand slipped behind her knees and then she was suspended in air. He walked over to her bunk and laid her on it. "Stay put. I'll be right back."
It seemed like hours before she heard Drake's voice again. "Help her into her nightrail. Her corset is undoubtedly just making it worse."
Thea spoke over the mumbled words of the woman Drake had brought with him. "I don't wear a corset. They aren't healthy. Several forward-thinking physicians have already denounced them in America. It is just a matter of time before English women realize their peril."
"Bloody hell. I should have guessed you'd be too damn independent to even dress like other women."
"Don't swear at me. It makes my head pound."
He swore again and then grimaced. "I'm sorry." He pressed a wet cloth to her forehead. "This will help your head."
The other woman said, "Changing into her nightrail will undoubtedly make her more comfortable, corsets or not. Her petticoats can't be comfortable in this heat."
Heat? What was the woman blathering about? It was cold as anything in her cabin. Maybe if she were wearing the petticoats the other woman thought she was, Thea would be warmer. She wasn't about to have a stranger undress her and discover the concessions she made to the Caribbean heat. Aunt Ruth would have apoplexy if she knew.
"No."
Drake soothed her with a hand on her hair. "Shh. It's quite all right. Mrs. Coombs is a companion to one of the passengers on board. She will help you change."
"I don't want a stranger to undress me."
He sighed, his expression both concerned and chagrined. "This is no time to be argumentative, Miss Selwyn. You are in no condition to dress yourself."
She felt tears in her eyes and blinked at them. It must be the seasickness. She never cried. "Please."
He brushed at the wetness on her cheek. "Very well. Mrs. Coombs and I will leave you alone for a few minutes while you change into less confining clothes."
She heard the door of her cabin close. Removing the cloth from her eyes, she verified that the room was empty except for her and the sleeping Melly. She forced herself to stand. She opened the trunk, breathing shallowly lest she bring on another bout of the sickness. She pulled out her nightrail and wrapper. Undoing the tapes on her gown, she let it fall to the floor and pulled the other garments on. Mrs. Coombs had been right. They were more comfortable.
She left her dress in a heap on the floor and slowly made her way back to the bed just as a soft knock sounded on the door.
"Miss Selwyn, are you finished?"
"Yes."
He opened the door and she saw that he was alone.
"Where is Mrs. Coombs?"
"I sent her back to her dinner."
He moved to sit next to her on the bed.
"This is not at all proper."
Picking up the damp cloth, he shrugged. "Nonsense. Your maid is here."
Laughter surprised her. She didn't know she was still capable of mirth. "Melly is sleeping like she took a hefty dose of laudanum."
"The tea sometimes has that effect."
She looked sideways at him. "It must have something more than ginger in it."
He shrugged again. "A few things."
"May I have some?"
He smiled. "Want to sleep, do you?"
She eyed her maid, who snored softly. "She looks much more comfortable than I feel."
"First you need to eat some beef and biscuits."
She looked at the salted beef in Drake's hand and shook her head. "I can't eat anything."
"Your maid did."
"She wasn't as sick as I am."
"You want to feel better, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Then eat." He offered her the beef.
She ate. It tasted surprisingly palatable. Not good, but not terrible either. It's saltiness made her thirsty, however. Drake must have read her mind because he offered her the spiced ginger tea.
She took a couple sips and then he pulled the tea from her. "You need to eat some biscuit, too."