The only challenge had been the imminence of their departure.
They sat in the parlour for a short while, but Primrose pleaded tiredness, and the need to rise terribly early the next day – she would leave the house before dawn – and took herself to bed.
Once Millie had helped her into her nightrail, she turned towards her bed, then paused. She had just remembered something, and guilt filled her. She had promised to go for another drive in the Park with Mr Morton – tomorrow. And with all the excitement of the day, and the intensity of preparation, she had forgotten to send him a letter, explaining why she would not be able to fulfil that promise, and apologising.
She turned away from her bed, went to her escritoire, lit the candle which waited on it, and drew out pen, ink, and paper. She would write now, and give the letter to the footman in the morning, that it might be delivered as early as possible in the day.
Chapter Seven
Gabriel looked up from behind his desk as Raphael and Mr Manning strode into the office. It was late in the day, and he had been about to pack things away, and go home.
“Raphael! What can I do for you?”
“You remember me telling about our plans for a trip to the Canary Islands? Well, as it happens, we will be leaving on the morning tide. By doing so, we will put the least change into Manning’s carefully planned schedules. If we don’t go now, we will be waiting months. So I have been speaking to him about exactly what he has arranged for this ship – it’s the Morton Heritage we’ll be on – and how I can help ensure better results, even if I am supposedly ‘on holiday’. As for what you can do for me – I was planning to accompany you home – Sera is already at Morton House, talking to our mother, again, about how Domenic will be cared for while we are away, and I told her I would join her there once I had finished here.”
Gabriel tucked his ledger into the drawer of his desk, and locked it, then rose.
“In which case, your timing is excellent – I was just planning to stop for the day, and go home. Have you finished your discussions with Manning?”
Mr Manning stepped forward.
“I believe that we are finished – I will have all of those details for our contacts in the Islands waiting for you on the ship in the morning, my Lord.”
Raphael nodded, and Manning left the room. The brothers looked at each other for a moment. Gabriel felt the envy rise within him, again, and forced himself to ignore it. Raphael and Sera deserved this chance to travel – surely, at some point in the future, he would also have a chance to do so.
“Let us go home then, Raphael – I suspect that, if you are to leave in the morning, Mother will have arranged a feast for tonight, as a farewell.”
“I suspect that you are right.”
<<<
The dinner had been as sumptuous as Gabriel had predicted, and the conversation animated, especially once Domenic had started to fall asleep in Sera’s lap, and been taken up to bed in the nursery here in Morton House, accompanied by his nanny.
Gabriel had been unable to stop himself from asking questions about what they hoped to see and do, beyond negotiating new trade agreements, and equally unable to stop himself from sighing sadly, and wishing that he was going with them.
He hoped that they had not noticed his envy, and the sadness it raised within him, but he knew that he had failed in that hope when he saw his mother meet Raphael’s eyes, and silence fell for a moment. Something passed between them in that look, wordlessly, but Gabriel recognised that it happened – a lifetime of observation of these people made it abundantly clear to him.
He ignored it, feeling guilty for worrying them, and for the sin of jealousy, and sipped at his port. They had retired to the parlour after dinner and the warmth of the familiar room cradled him, even as his thoughts yearned to see other places. In his mind, the image of Lady Primrose’s drawing of that imaginary tropical harbour rose, and he wondered if he would ever see a place like that, if she would or, perhaps, if they might see such a place together.
He shook his head at his own whimsy – what hope was there of such a thing, when he could see no way that he might travel, and travel was doubly challenging for an unmarried woman. Married though… he pushed that thought aside as even more unlikely, no matter how pleasing a possibility it might be.
He was brought back to the moment by Raphael’s voice.
“Gabriel… why don’t you come with us?”
For a second, Gabriel thought that he must have misheard – but no, Raphael had quite clearly just suggested…
“How could I? What of the business? With you away, I will be needed more than ever. If we were both away…”
“…I would manage things perfectly well, with Mr Manning’s help.”
His mother’s voice was soft, but full of absolute certainty.
“But…”
“Gabriel, your father gave me access to all of the accounts, and authorised me with every necessary person, before he died – I managed it all until Raphael returned from war, and Raphael has seen fit to leave all of those authorities in place ever since. Take this chance to see a little of the world, while you can. I know that you have long yearned to do so.”
He stared at them, utterly torn between his sense of responsibility and his desire to travel. Sera smiled gently, then reached out to touch his hand.
“Come, Gabriel – you know that you will enjoy it, and you know equally well that your mother is perfectly capable – even if it galls you a little to realise that you are not completely indispensable. Your company will be welcome, as will your business acumen, in assisting with Raphael’s pursuit of new trading opportunities.”
“I… I… don’t know… are you sure?”
“We would not ask you, if we were not sure, Gabriel, and you know that to be truth. Stop hesitating, brother, and say yes.”
Raphael was laughing, shaking his head at Gabriel's expression. Gabriel drew himself up, swallowing. If they were sure, then he was not going to let this opportunity slip away from him.
“Yes. Are you happy now that you have your way, brother?”
“Of course – are you happy now that you will get the chance to travel, as you have wished?”
Gabriel felt the grin spread across his face.
“I am, and thank you for giving me the chance. I believe that I heard you say that we will be leaving on the dawn tide? That being the case, I had best go and pack, hadn’t I?”
He swallowed what remained of his port in a single gulp, and stood, bowing to his mother and Sera, before leaving the room.
Behind him, Sophia and Raphael exchanged a most conspiratorial smile.
<<<
Just as he was about to drop into bed, exhausted, Gabriel remembered that he had promised Lady Primrose another drive in the Park, tomorrow. He sighed, feeling guilty anew – for she so longed to travel, and here he was, getting the chance to do just that. But he had agreed to go, and could not renege on that now. He turned away from the bed, and went to the small escritoire which stood in the corner, to pen what was, perhaps, the hardest thing he had ever written.
How did one apologise to a woman one truly cared about, for crying off on an arrangement so that one could go and do the thing which she most desired to do in the world?
An hour later, he had finally managed something – inadequate, but something which would have to do. He sealed it, and addressed it, then set it on top of his trunk, so that he would not forget to send it with a footman in the morning.
When he finally allowed himself to slip into bed, his mind would not let him rest, for thinking of her.
But exhaustion won, and those thoughts drifted into dreams, in which she stood beside him on the deck of a ship, as they sailed into a distant harbour. Dreams which lasted not long enough, before being broken by his valet shaking him awake in the deep darkness of the very early morning, to ready him for the day ahead.
<<<
Primrose had said her farewells to her family th
e night before – all save her father, who had risen in the dark of the morning to embrace her as she stepped out of the house, and went to the carriage. She had been close to tears – elated, and terrified at once, to be going so far, to be away from her family for the first time in her life.
Now, as the footmen lifted her trunks from the carriage, she studied the ship before her, and a shiver went through her – once she stepped onto the gangway, her life would change. Mr Manning appeared beside her, and bowed, smiling.
“My Lady, you are the first of the passengers to arrive. Let me escort you on board, and introduce you to the Captain.” He waved to the waiting sailors, who came forward to lift her trunks and carry them aboard, then led her in their wake. “They will take your trunks straight to your cabin.”
“Thank you. I will want to check that everything is there, and properly stowed, before we sail – I would not want any harm to come to my art supplies.”
“Of course.” They reached the Captain, who stood on the deck, watching everything intently.
Manning greeted the man warmly, and indicated Primrose.
“Captain Harden, I make known to you Lady Primrose Gardenbrook, who is accompanying Lord and Lady Porthaven on this journey.”
The Captain bowed, elegantly, and Primrose curtseyed in return.
“Welcome aboard, Lady Primrose. Chartley here will show you to your cabin – he will be providing steward service for all of the passengers, so let him know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
They stepped back as a sailor came up to ask the Captain something, and Manning bowed.
“I’d best get back onto the dock, and manage the last of the loading, my Lady.”
“Of course.” Primrose turned to Chartley, who stood waiting. “Please show me to my cabin now – I would not wish to be in the way on deck.”
“Yes milady – this way.” He led her away, and soon she found herself descending a narrow, steep set of steps to an equally narrow passage which led towards the rear of the ship. “All of the passenger cabins open off here – and the Captain’s cabin is at the far end. Ye’ll not be disturbed by the sailors, exceptin’ those like me, bringin’ your meals and the like.” He stopped before a door, and opened it, waving her in. “Here ye go – I’ll be up at the top o’ the steps if ye need anythin’.”
“Thank you.”
He turned, and left her there. She stepped into the cabin, and shut the door.
The space was small, with, in front of her, a narrow bed set against the hull, and a small porthole allowing the faint pre-dawn glow to enter. The space beneath the bed was in two parts – one a space large enough for two moderate trunks stacked on each other, and the rest a set of shelves with a door to close over them. To her left was a tiny table, hinged from the wall so that it could be lifted and locked into place, and a chair – which could also be anchored against the wall if needed. To her right, a set of drawers and a very narrow hanging space for clothing were built onto the wall.
One of her trunks was resting on the bed, the other two were tucked under it. She set about unpacking some clothes from the trunk on the bed, and putting them away – the storage provided was surprisingly capacious. Once that trunk was dealt with, she carefully slid the other two out from under the bed, leaving precious little floor to stand on, and checked the one with her art supplies, before placing some in a drawer, and returning the rest to the trunk, which she slid back under the bed. From the second trunk of clothing, she selected a few items to pack into the storage, but left most things inside it, and, with a little struggle, placed it back on top of the art supplies one, under the bed.
There was nowhere to get the third one out of the way – and she would need to move it off the bed when the time came to sleep. The floor was the only option, at least for now. She lifted it down, then pushed herself up onto the bed. The mattress upon it was surprisingly thick and soft – so much so that she suspected it to be not what would normally have graced a ship, but a change made by Lord Porthaven, specifically for her comfort. She was grateful, indeed, and lay back on it to rest for a few minutes.
The sounds of footsteps above, and the small creaks and rustles as the ship shifted gently on the water, made her acutely aware of how very different this was from anything she had ever experienced before, and excitement filled her, even as the softness of the mattress tempted her towards sleep. What did all of those sounds indicate, she wondered? Should she go back up on deck, to observe everything, to perhaps draw some of the activity of the ship preparing to leave? Or would she be in the way?
She made herself stay there for some time, until her curiosity finally drove her to move. Standing, she brushed her skirts straight, collected a small journal to sketch in, and tucked some pencils into her pockets, then opened the door and stepped out into the passageway. As she pulled the door closed behind her, she took note that, carved on it, there were two roses. Curious, she looked at the nearby doors, and saw that each had a carving of some sort, each different – a way to tell which was which, for the passengers, she presumed.
As she stood there, the ship shifted, a larger movement than the gentle rocking it had presented before. They were moving! She hurried to the steps – so steep they were almost a ladder, and climbed up, wanting to watch the docks and the city recede from view. Chartley, true to his word, waited at the top, and offered a hand to assist her up the last few steps.
“Thank you. Where might I stand, to watch as we depart, where I will not be in the way of anything?”
“This way, milady – ye can stand near the rail over here, if’n ye like.”
She followed him, glancing about her curiously as she did.
She could see, up on the quarterdeck, Lord Porthaven standing with Captain Harden, so she assumed that Lady Porthaven was also nearby. But, fascinating as the activities of the sailors were, her eyes were more drawn to the land, to the docks, and the city of London behind them.
The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon, and fingers of light reached out to brush the normally tawdry docks with gold, and cast the taller buildings of the city into stark contrast to the shadows below them. It was beautiful, and she was glad that she had the chance to see it – for on their return, they would put into Portsmouth, so this was a view she might never have the chance to see again.
She pulled out a pencil and opened her journal, sketching rapidly, trying to capture the effect of the light, and the magic which it seemed to cast over the ordinary. For some minutes, she was utterly absorbed, ignoring the sound of footsteps, and the scurrying of people about the deck as they passed behind her. Until the moment when someone stopped, immediately behind her.
The sound of a gasp made her turn, and she froze, gasping herself, shocked to her core, and rendered speechless, as she found herself face to face with Mr Gabriel Morton, with mere inches separating them.
Chapter Eight
Gabriel had boarded the ship, still not quite believing that it was real, that he would not wake soon to find it all a dream, and had gone below to see his trunk stowed and to discover where his cabin was, before coming back up to the deck just as they cast off from the London docks. Fascinated, he watched as the sailors moved with long practiced co-ordination to take the ship out into the busy waterway, before turning and walking towards the rail, to watch the city recede.
Passing a stack of barrels which were lashed to the deck, he saw something unexpected – a woman – not Sera, but someone else, standing at the rail, doing something. Wisps of yellow gold hair escaped around the edges of her bonnet, to be tugged at by the rising breeze. His heart skipped a beat. His breath caught. Surely not. It could not be.
His feet kept moving, even whilst his mind whirled, filled with hope, and with doubt. Perhaps he was dreaming, after all. He stopped, immediately behind her, his body forcing him to breathe with a gasp, as he tried to take it in.
At the sound of his gasp, she spun towards him, and came to rest, her pen
cil and journal in her hands, forgotten, her eyes wide, her lips parted in a gasp of her own. Lips which were mere inches from his own. Lips he wanted to kiss, immediately.
Surely he was dreaming – but the scent of the river and the sea surrounded him, very, very real. The rising sun lit her face, and her beauty took his breath away, again.
“Mr Morton, What…”
“Lady Primrose…”
They both found words in the same instant, and stopped at the same moment. He waited as she tried again.
“Mr Morton, why are you… I mean, I didn’t expect you… Oh! I must sound like a silly goose! I did not know that you would be with us on this journey.”
“Neither did I, until last night. But no one told me that you would be accompanying Raphael and Sera either…”
“It was not certain until two days ago… I… I sent you a letter, this morning, to explain.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, and he laughed.
“I sent you a letter too, just this morning, explaining. But now… we will have this adventure, together. I am glad – if you do not mind my company?”
She smiled, and his heart skipped a beat again. She shook her head gently.
“Of course I do not mind. You… you know that I enjoy your company, and our conversations. But, right now… I want to continue drawing, before the light changes too much.”
“Of course. May I watch?”
She blushed again, and hesitated, then nodded decisively.
“You may.”
She turned back away from him, and lifted the journal and pencil, studied the scene a moment, then began to draw, so fast that he was amazed, again, at her skill.
<<<
Primrose tried to force herself to think of nothing but capturing the scene before her. She did not, entirely, succeed.
He stood beside her, silent, watching her draw, respecting her need to do so, which was wonderful – but his very presence made it very, very hard to concentrate. The scent of his cologne surrounded her, and the memory of the moment when she had turned, when he had been so close, when she had suffered an intense desire to close that gap and bring her lips to his, replayed in her mind, distracting her. If she was not careful, she would draw his lips, not the docks receding in the dawn light.
A Minx for a Merchant : Book 5: Primrose: Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet) Page 6