by Lucy Monroe
CHAPTER TWO
Lady Upworth, arranged for me to see Jared. Although she is Langley’s aunt, she remains kind to me. She is furious with her nephew for taking my son. Jared is so beautiful. The visit was too short, much too short. Letting him go ripped open the wound that will never heal in my heart. It is a pain I will gladly bear in order to see my precious baby, to kiss his soft cheeks and tell him I love him. Thank God for Thea’s sweet presence to dull the pain of all I have lost.
April 16, 1798 Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley
Three things made themselves known to Drake at once. The first was that Ashby Merewether had a keen resemblance to a fish when surprised. The second, Thea’s beauty only intensified when chagrined. The third was a feeling of intense relief that she was no man’s lightskirt.
Her anger was still palpable, but he could see that it was now tempered with mortification. He watched in fascination as she closed her eyes briefly, much as she had in the warehouse earlier. She muttered something. He thought it could have been ten barrels, but that made no sense.
She opened her eyes again her blue gaze filled with mute appeal. “Please release me.”
He did so, but with reluctance. Her warm skin felt silky to the touch and he experienced disappointment when he forced his fingers to uncurl from around her arms. He turned to Merewether, who had managed to close his mouth, but still had the look of a surprised trout.
Drake bowed and said his name.
Merewether automatically began to return the courtesy when he abruptly pulled himself upright. His face took on a fierce expression that only served to illustrate how rarely the man must frown. He did not do it at all well.
Drake smiled.
“Don’t smile at me, young man. Have you been making improper advances toward Miss Selwyn? I warn you, she is a gentle lady and I will not allow her feelings or person to be trifled with.”
Thea rushed forward and took the older gentleman’s arm. “Do not fret yourself, Uncle Ashby. You know the doctor has said that you must avoid undue excitement.” She turned her head and glowered at Drake as if he had been the one to make the incendiary comment. “Mr. Drake did not make any untoward advances. I assure you.”
“Yes, but my dear, you said—“
She cut him off. “It was a simple misunderstanding. Isn’t that right, Mr. Drake?”
Her voice and posture dared him to disagree with her.
Drake didn’t. “Absolutely. I assure you that when a man hits a certain number of years like I have, he no longer considers illicit liaisons when first meeting a lovely young woman like Miss Selwyn. He must begin thinking of setting up his nursery, or so my mother continues to insist.”
Thea’s eyes widened, but she said nothing, indeed seemed incapable of doing so.
Merewether shook his head as if in lament. “No use you looking to our Thea in that regard. She’s firmly against marriage and if my dear wife Ruth cannot change her mind, no mere gentleman has a chance of doing so.”
Drake disagreed. He would think that a man would have much more success in convincing Thea regarding the merits of wedded bliss than a woman, no matter how formidable the creature. Some things could not be believed until they were experienced. Something else his mother insisted on, particularly when they discussed the subject of love.
“Uncle Ashby, Mr. Drake is only teasing. He did not come here looking for a wife.”
Merewether sighed. “Pity.”
Thea stepped away from him, puffing out an obviously irritated breath. “He is here on business and he prefers to work with principles.”
The mockery with which she said the final words was lost on Merewether, but not so on Drake.
The surprised trout became a confused trout. “But, Thea, you are a principle. Didn’t you explain to Mr. Drake that we are partners in Merewether Shipping?”
Thea’s bland expression belied the mockery Drake saw in her eyes. “I did try.”
Drake frowned. “I did not understand the nature of the partnership. I cannot say that even now I do. It is most unusual for a lady to be an acting principle in business.”
Merewether chuckled. “Yes, well, Miss Selwyn is a most unusual woman - just like her mother before her.”
“Nevertheless, Mr. Drake has made it quite clear he prefers not to discuss business with a mere female, so I will go about my other dealings.” She turned and left.
Drake almost called out to the saucy baggage and demanded that she stay, but he controlled the inexplicable urge. He had allowed himself to be sidetracked from his objective for long enough. He turned to Merewether only to find the other man looking at him with appraisal.
“Find her fascinatin’, I’ll be bound. Most gentlemen do. She’s oblivious, of course. Thinks love is for weak-minded women and marriage is an institution just this side of prison. Shame, that.” The older man shook his head.
“I’m sure you are right. However, as Miss Selwyn told you, I am here for business purposes.” Providence alone knew why he had made the comment about marriage.
Drake certainly didn’t.
Merewether bobbed his head up and down. “Yes. Yes. What can we do for you?”
“I need the use of a skilled blacksmith.”
Merewether stood silent as if he expected Drake to say more. When he didn’t, the older man cleared his throat. “Well. Yes. Well. That is certainly possible. We don’t actually have a blacksmith working for us, but I can find you one. Yes, indeed. I’ll arrange for him to help you first thing in the morning.”
Merewether beamed at Drake as if he had said something altogether pleasing, not a death knell on Drake’s schedule and a blight to his honor.
Drake’s insides tightened. “That is not acceptable. I need his services now.”
“Yes. Well. You see, he is busy right now on a project for Thea, er…Miss Selwyn. Perhaps if you had asked her?” Merewether let his voice trail off.
Drake took in the now cold tea Thea had served him, the muddled chaos surrounding him, Merewether’s expectant features and the words the other man had just spoken.
Bloody hell. “She has engaged the services of the blacksmith privately?”
“Not privately, m’boy. For the company. She’s got him building something to improve safety or efficiency. She’s a proponent of both, I don’t mind telling you.”
Ah, so that was it. Drake felt on firmer ground since he had first laid eyes on the indomitable Thea. “I will compensate both Merewether Shipping and the blacksmith for the time spent away from his project here.”
“As to that, no such thing, but I don’t know if Thea will easily let the man go.”
“Surely you are not going to tell me that Miss Selwyn’s project cannot wait.”
“Not for me to say, m’boy. Not for me to say.”
Drake felt the small store of patience he had entered the office with slip away completely. “Couldn’t you ask her?”
“Well. Yes. She’s not here now, of course. Off supervising her project, I’m bound.” Merewether’s expression left no doubt in Drake’s mind who the older man blamed for her departure.
“Where might that be?”
“Why, in the blacksmith’s shop, of course.”
Drake felt a certain affinity for teeth pullers. “And where is the blacksmith’s shop?”
“In town. I’ll have someone show you if you like.”
“The sooner the better.”
Merewether disappeared through the door of the office, his head still bobbing in agreement.
He returned moments later with the warehouse manager. “Philippe has agreed to take you to Miss Selwyn. He’ll find her for you if she’s not with the blacksmith.”
Drake said nothing, but if Thea was not with the blacksmith, he had every intention of convincing the man to take on his engine repair immediately, even if he had to pay him in bloody diamonds to do it.
******
Philippe’s large bulk moved with a fluidity that surprised Drake as he
followed the other man down the main street of the tiny village Merewether referred to as town. White buildings with red tile roofs reminded Drake of a Mediterranean seaport. He impatiently scanned the structures for any sign of a blacksmith or stable. He saw nothing.
On the verge of asking the warehouse manager where exactly they were going, his thoughts were interrupted by Philippe’s voice. “You are a fast thinking and fast acting man, Mr. Drake. This morning we would have lost our Mademoiselle Thea had you not been there. Sacré bleu, it was a good wind that blew you to our island.”
“Did you find out the cause of the accident?” Perhaps Thea had a penchant for safety because others in the shipping company did not.
“That was a strange thing, oui?”
Drake made a noncommittal sound. He didn’t know if it were strange or not.
“The cargo, it is all stacked the same way. Mademoiselle Thea insists on it to protect the warehouse employees. She is very conscientious.”
“Then how did it fall?”
“This I do not know, n’est ce pas?” Philippe ran his fingers over the tight black nap covering his scalp. “It would have taken the arm of a very strong man, but that is impossible.”
“There is no one on the island that would wish Miss Selwyn harm, is there?”
As irritating as Drake found her personally, he did not think her take-charge attitude enough motivation for someone to try to hurt her.
“No. No. Even the plantation owners would not do her injury.”
Drake’s interest was piqued. “What do you mean, even the plantation owners?”
Philippe smiled, his white teeth glistening against the dark tones of his skin. “Mademoiselle Thea, she preaches against the slavery. It is not a popular position here on the island, n’est ce pas?”
That would be an understatement. The surrounding plantations relied on slave labor to function. It was only a matter of time before they would lose their conscripted labor force and there was considerable speculation regarding the feasibility of paying wages high enough to encourage the backbreaking labor required on a sugar plantation.
“She is not foolish enough to be vocal about her abolitionist political beliefs in a climate such as this?”
Even as he spoke the question, Drake guessed at the answer.
Philippe laughed, the sound a rich rumble that brought a smile to Drake’s own lips. “She does not know caution, that one. She does not consider it a political issue either, but a moral outrage and she refuses to be silent about it.”
If that were true, Drake marveled that today was her first brush with danger. Perhaps it wasn’t. When he voiced his thoughts to the other man, Philippe grew pensive.
“Non. Non. Today, it is the first time she has come so close to real harm. Mademoiselle Thea, she helps all the landowners with the shipping company. They do not like her beliefs, but they like the money she brings. Monsieur Merewether, he is a kind gentleman, but the business side of the shipping venture falls to Mademoiselle Thea like it did to her mother before her. The plantation owners know this. Non. It was a very strange accident, but an accident all the same.”
Drake stopped himself from arguing with the man. Thea’s safety was not his concern.
******
Thea watched Jacob’s bulging black arms operate the blacksmith’s bellows. While her thoughts should be centered on her concerns over her business, or even the new winch, they kept on drifting back to her meeting with Drake. He infuriated her and yet he also fascinated her.
Mortification at what she had said in her fit of temper still tormented her conscience. To have implied to Uncle Ashby of all people, that Drake was trying to proposition her was foolishness itself. Uncle Ashby’s heart could not stand great shocks and she well knew it. Drake deserved a proper set down, but as usual, her tongue had gotten away with her and she said entirely too much. She sighed.
The man had his own purchase on mockery, should she take his remark about marriage into consideration. Undoubtedly he had only said it to discompose her. He could not be in earnest. Regardless, she would never consider such a move. Unmarried women had little enough rights. Married women had none. Olympe de Gouge had lost her life, accused of treason, for revealing the disparity between the rights of men and women in France.
Thea would not ignore such a heritage for her sex. If she ever married, it would not be to a hard man like Drake. Her mother had been careful to educate her regarding the pitfalls of marriage, particularly to a man of inflexible nature.
Somewhere in England, a man born the same day as Thea lived and breathed. Her brother. She had never met him, had never even seen him because of their father, a man who would tear a babe from its mother’s arms to punish his wife for a wrong she did not commit simply because he could.
“This be a mighty good winch, yes’m.”
Jacob’s words brought Thea back from her woolgathering.
She leaned forward to examine the tackle attached to the pulley. The spool-shaped wheel looked sturdy enough to handle the heaviest storage barrels. “You’ve done a marvelous job, Jacob. I believe that is exactly what we need.”
“Good. Then you will have no objection to him accompanying me to The Golden Dragon to make repairs to its steam engine.”
Thea’s body tensed at the sound of that voice.
Drake. What was he doing here?
She spun around to face him and her skirts brushed against the forge, picking up soot along the hem. Intense heat from the fire licked at her arms as she came too near in her surprise.
Drake swore and taking a giant step forward grasped her arms to pull her from proximity to the fire. “I believe trouble follows you like a friend, Miss Selwyn.”
She wanted to respond with a curt comment, but found the intensity of his eyes hotter than the fires in the smithy. “I do not know what you mean, sir.”
He let go of her arms, although he remained indecently close. “I wonder how you avoid harm when I am not here to pull you to safety.”
She stepped away from him. “I manage quite nicely. Perhaps it is your presence that accounts for my mishaps today. What think you of that?”
He laughed. The rich sound and unexpected softening of the hard angles of Drake’s face mesmerized her.
She smiled with him. “Perhaps I am too harsh. I am truly grateful for your quick action earlier.”
He cocked his brow. “And now?”
Chagrined, she nevertheless forced herself to answer. “And now. Thank you for pulling me away from the forge. I lost my bearings for a moment.”
He nodded. “I am glad I was here.”
She almost answered that had he not been she would never have lost her bearings, but she had allowed her unruly tongue enough license for one day. “Why are you here?”
“As I said, I would like to hire the services of the blacksmith for work on my steam engine.”
“Your ship is a steam vessel?” She didn’t understand. He was English. The only steam vessels she knew of were American and only one had been built for ocean going, the S.S. Savannah.
“Not entirely. It is a combination sailing and steam vessel.”
Ah, like the S.S. Savannah. When he didn’t elaborate, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “And?”
He smiled. The controlled amusement in the brown depths of his eyes surprised her.
A school of dolphins took up frolicking in her insides. The tall, dark man was entirely too appealing.
“And... my ship’s engine boiler has burst. I need the services of your blacksmith. I am willing to pay both Merewether Shipping and him for the use of his time.”
“There would be no reason to pay my company for the use of an independent man’s time. I believe I mentioned that we do not practice slavery.” She barely restrained herself from saying more on the subject. Drake was not here to listen to a lecture on the merits of abolition.
His eyes narrowed. “I merely intended to compensate your company for the loss of the man’s time on
your project while he takes care of my engine.”
She shrugged. “The winch can wait. It is almost finished anyway.”
“Good. Then we can proceed.” He turned to Jacob. “Mr. …”
Jacob set the winch down and pulled off the heavy gloves that protected his hands from the heat of the fire in the forge. “I’m called Jacob.”
Drake put out his hand. “Jacob it is then. I’m in desperate need of your services.”
The action surprised and pleased her. It apparently surprised Jacob as well.
He stared for a moment at Drake’s hand, as if not sure what to do with it. Finally he wiped his own hand on the leg of his breaches before shaking hands with the other man. “You want that I fix the boiler, sir?”
“Yes. As quickly as possible.”
“Where is it then?”
Drake’s look of confusion would have been funny, but Thea feared it would turn to anger when he discovered Jacob’s little idiosyncrasy. “On the ship, of course.”
“I’ll no be going to any ship, sir.”
“But the boiler is on the ship.”
Jacob shrugged his massive shoulders. “Best to be bringing it here if you want that I fix it.”
Drake turned to her, his face a study in frustration. “Could you explain what I am missing?”
“If you want Jacob to fix your boiler, you will have to disassemble it and bring it here.”
“There is no time.” His frustration was a palpable force.
She felt sorry for him, but there was nothing she could do. Jacob had an uncompromising fear of the ocean and there was no way Drake was going to get him onto The Golden Dragon. “Jacob will not go near the ocean.”
“That’s ridiculous. He lives on an island. How can he be afraid of water?”
The black man drew himself up, his brows drawn together in a severe frown. “I’m no afraid o’ de water.”
Drake smiled. “Good. Then we can proceed to my ship.”
Jacob’s frown did not lessen. “You be wantin’ that I fix your boiler, sir. You be bringing it here.”
“I told you, there is no time.”
“You be bringing it here,” Jacob insisted stubbornly.