by Lucy Monroe
Drake went still. “How much?”
Jacob shrugged. “Don’t know ‘til I see it, sir.”
“I mean how much to get you to come to my ship?”
“I no be going to your ship.”
Drake swore and spun on his heel to face Philippe, who had remained silent since arriving. “Are there any other blacksmiths on the island?”
“No, sir,” Philippe replied.
The controlled anger she saw in Drake’s expression made Thea shiver. “Bloody hell.” He turned back to Jacob. “I’ll have the boiler here as soon as can be arranged.”
Jacob picked up the winch. “I be finishing this then.”
Thea smiled at Jacob. “Thank you. I’ll see Mr. Drake to the wharf. Philippe, please tell Mr. Merewether that I will be with Mr. Drake.”
Drake turned to her. “I can find my own way to the ship and back, Miss Selwyn.”
“I’m quite sure that you can, but it will be faster if I drive you. My carriage is waiting outside as I had intended to go far inland on some business. You did say that time was of the essence?”
She watched the muscle in his jaw work with fascination. “You’re a bossy bit of goods, Miss Selwyn.”
“You are welcome, Mr. Drake.”
******
Hot Caribbean air pressed against Drake as he and some crewmembers from The Golden Dragon loaded the boiler into the back of a wagon Thea had commandeered.
“It’s so much bigger than I expected.” Thea walked around him and peered intently at the boiler. “No wonder you balked at bringing it to Jacob.”
Drake grunted.
She laughed. “It wouldn’t have made any difference to Jacob. He spent two days on a raft surrounded by hungry sharks during an attempt to escape his life as a slave. He won’t go anywhere near the ocean, not even to return to his homeland.”
Drake tied a final knot in the lashing against the boiler. “How did he end up as your town blacksmith? I thought runaway slaves were punished, not freed.”
“They are.” The fierce expression in Thea’s eyes softened. “My mother purchased his freedom. She offered to send him back to his family in Africa, but he wouldn’t go. He worked for our company until he made enough money to open his smithy. He’s married to the sweetest woman and they have six children now. The oldest just got orders to sail on one of our ships.”
Drake marveled at the genuine concern he heard in her voice. She cared, really cared about this freedman and his family. The difference between her viewpoint and that of a typical London beauty seared him. Would she care about his birth, or would her unique character carry that far?
He had no intention of finding out. He would not be revealing any secrets, of his birth or otherwise, in the short time his ship was moored in the waters of her island’s bay.
He moved toward the front of the wagon to take his seat in the driver’s box only to come up short when she did the same thing. He pulled back. “Miss Selwyn, perhaps you will allow me to drive?”
She put her hand over her eyes, squinting up at him. “Why? I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of driving.”
He had no doubt that she was capable of doing just about anything she set her mind to, but it was his boiler and his responsibility. He would drive. “Thank you for the offer, but it isn’t necessary.”
She drew herself up. “That’s silly. I know the roads better than you. After all, I live here. I will drive you and your boiler to Jacob.”
He had wasted all the time he could afford to. She let out a surprised shriek when he picked her up and tossed her onto the passenger side of the bench.
Before she righted her clothes, much less herself, he jumped up next to her and grabbed the reins. “As there is only one road between here and the smithy, I do not think it will require your lifetime of living here to navigate it.”
She sputtered something about insufferable, bossy men before situating herself on the bench. Her stiff posture left no question she was annoyed and he almost smiled. When she finally did marry, she would lead her husband a merry chase.
“Why is it so important for you to fix your boiler now?” she asked in a tone that said her curiosity had gotten the better of her anger.
Knowing it would tweak her temper, he replied, “It’s broken.”
She let out a long, drawn out breath that put her gentle curves in prominence and he found himself looking at her as no gentleman should ogle a lady.
“I know that.” She shifted as she was facing him on the seat and he forced his own gaze forward before she noted its direction and became offended. “But why now? Why won’t tomorrow or the next day do?”
His shoulders tensed, any humor he had found in baiting her disappearing.
CHAPTER THREE
Langley has discovered that his aunt has been allowing me to see my son. Langley is furious. He told her that if it continues, she will never see Jared again. She told me that he has plans to take the babe back to Langley Hall. Ensconced in this crackerbox of a house on the outskirts of London that my husband has seen fit to banish me to, how can I see my son? I ache for him. What can he learn of love from a man whose heart is no more than stone?
June 5, 1798 Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley
“I took out a policy on the return date of my ship with Lloyds of London.”
She smoothed her skirt, reminding him of the altogether pleasing legs beneath the thin muslin. Merewether had said she was oblivious, but could any woman be that ignorant of her feminine appeal?
“So if you don’t return by a certain date, you’ll lose your money?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“It must be a very large policy.”
He flicked the reins, encouraging the horses to pick up their pace. “Not that large, but…” He let his voice trail off. Did he want to explain the other? Would she, a woman, even understand?
“But what?”
Blue eyes blazing with intelligence and curiosity compelled him to speak.
“I convinced several friends to invest their money in the venture.”
“I don’t understand. If you return a day or two late with the cargo, it will still fetch the same price in the market, will it not?”
Her understanding of business still discomposed him. “My friends did not only invest in the cargo, but they invested in the journey. They have each taken out policies as well.”
She sniffed. “It sounds like a wager to me.”
He smiled at her disapproving tone. “There are plenty of those too. Many people did not believe that we could meet with any more success than the S.S. Savannah.”
“But the Savannah’s journey was a success.”
“She used her sails for the voyage almost exclusively. We wanted to use the engine to increase the pace of the journey.”
“Have you?”
“Yes.”
The seam connecting the boiler to the pipe for the escape valve had blown when he had insisted the captain push on with the engine through an abnormally long becalm at sea. The weakened seam was explained when they discovered that some idiot seaman had used salt rather than fresh water to refill the boiler. It had taken precious time and fresh water to rectify that part of the mess. However, without the uses of a competent blacksmith, the engine would be dead weight for the rest of the voyage.
“Then you have succeeded even if you do not return by the specified date.”
He turned toward her, wondering at the certainty in her voice. “You think so?”
Her eyes shone with certainty and he had to quickly tamp down the urge to cover her soft lips, parted in exclamation, with his own.
“Oh, yes. Just think, you’ve done what no one else has been able to do. The S.S. Savannah didn’t pick up cargo. She just carried passengers. But, you’ve done both. You’ll be returning to England covered in glory.”
He shook his head at her naiveté. More likely he’d be returning with his honor in shreds if The Golden Dragon’s captain could not
make up for the time lost.
******
Thea laid the fountain pen down on the ledger and sighed. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to ease some of the tension from her body. Her office on the second floor of the warehouse was quiet, almost too quiet, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
After leaving Drake and his boiler with Jacob, she had returned to the warehouse to check the latest set of ledgers that had arrived on Whiskey Jim’s ship. She looked back at the neat columns of numbers and entries.
She had not been mistaken. The discrepancies were well hidden, but they were there. It had not been a one-time mistake as she had hoped. The pilfering was consistent and unmistakable. If only she knew who was responsible. She cringed at the thought that Uncle Ashby’s nephew had been stealing from the company.
She could not ignore the fact that he hadn’t yet responded to her letter inquiring into the discrepancies when she first noticed them. Could the letter have been misdirected? Cold invaded her insides that the letter had made it into the hands of the culprit and the near fatal accident in the warehouse earlier was linked in some way.
Drake’s was not the only ship in port. Even Whiskey Jim’s could have brought on an accomplice to the thief. Ship captains were forced to pick up new sailors in almost every port. It was a rough life and jumping ship at port of call was all too common. Because of that, a strange sailor found lurking around the warehouse would cause little interest and no concern.
If her near accident had been engineered, that was all the more reason for her to make the trip to England. Uncle Ashby and Aunt Ruth had to be protected, just as her mother had protected her by coming to the West Indies.
She looked down at the ledger again, noting the subtlety of the entries.
Did someone besides Uncle Ashby’s nephew have the knowledge and enough access to the accounts to perpetuate the scheme? She had to find out, and before her partner began to suspect not all was well. If his nephew were the culprit, Ashby Merewether would be devastated. His already weak heart might give out entirely. She could not stomach the thought.
She must do something.
Her eyes strayed to the letter lying next to the ledger on the polished wood of the desk. Lady Upworth had invited her to attend the Season, just as she had every year since Thea’s seventeenth birthday. It would be the perfect excuse for a sudden trip to England. Aunt Ruth and Uncle Ashby had been urging her to take her place in society for years. Even more so since Uncle Ashby’s health had deteriorated.
She picked up the letter and smoothed its folds. The Merewethers had good intentions, as did her great-aunt, but she wondered if they realized how adamantly opposed to establishing a relationship with the Earl of Langley she was. She would never embrace the harsh man that had fathered her and would not take her place in society if acknowledging him was required to do so.
However, she would go to London. She wanted to meet her great-aunt, Lady Upworth. Thea knew the older woman through letters and the many sketches she sent of Jared and London life, but had never met her.
Lifting the letter, she gazed at the sketch underneath. She let her finger trail along the scar on Jared’s face. He had gotten it saving the life of their half-sister, Irisa, when he was fourteen. She could still remember the day it happened. She’d had a terrible nightmare that night and dreamt a beast had attacked her with its claws. The following month she had gotten a letter from Lady Upworth telling her of Jared’s heroic deed and the mark left on his face.
She wanted to meet her brother. She knew so much about him and yet nothing at all. The longing to know the flesh of her flesh grew every year. She knew what he liked, what he did, how he behaved and what he looked like through Lady Upworth’s letters, but Thea had no idea how her twin brother felt about anything. Lady Upworth said that he was a very private gentleman, not given to expressing his emotion.
Would he be like their father? She had to believe that he would be a better man, a kinder man. Some of her own emotions and cares must be reflected in him. They were, after all, twins.
And her sister, would she be as mischievous as she looked in Lady Upworth’s sketches. Longing to know both her brother and half-sister welled up in Thea.
Her gaze went of its own accord to the window of her office. Watching the still blue water of the harbor had been a source of comfort since the death of her mother. The island represented safety and the sea adventure. One day, she had vowed to experience that adventure. Evidently, the time had come.
Her eyes strayed to Drake’s ship, The Golden Dragon. She smiled. It had sailed into their harbor at the most opportune time.
Drake’s insistence that he arrive in England by the date specified on his Lloyds of London policy would certainly be in her favor. The sooner she got to London, the better her chances of unmasking the thief before Uncle Ashby even realized something was wrong, or before another so-called accident took place.
She simply had to convince Drake to let her sail on his ship. Remembering the conversation of the morning, she thought she just knew what it would take.
She experienced a certain amount of trepidation at the thought of a week long voyage shared with him. She felt things around the ship owner that had never plagued her before. Womanly desires and inexplicable excitations. She could not seem to resist staring at him and a mortifying urge to touch him beset her.
She must find a way to avoid him aboard ship. She could not afford to be sidetracked from her goal by a gentleman, nor did she particularly wish to be beset by further odd and compelling feelings.
She took a piece of foolscap and copied down the pertinent entries. Closing the ledger, she lifted it to hide with the others that showed discrepancies. She rather doubted Uncle Ashby would get curious and go looking for them. The numbers side of business was not the dear man’s forte.
******
“No.” Although, he was not known for tact, Drake found himself even blunter with Thea than he was with others. She was clearly used to getting her own way, but he could not accommodate her latest whim. “It is out of the question for us to remain in port while you ready for the journey.”
He felt a certain amount of regret. The thought of her stimulating company on the remainder of the voyage held appeal, but he could not spare the time a lady needed to prepare for such a journey.
“Surely such a short delay would not compromise your schedule.”
Disappointment warred with irritation. He did not like feminine manipulation. He had thought after their discussion earlier that she understood that he was honor bound to reach England by a certain date.
“No.” He turned back to watch Jacob work, hoping she was intelligent enough to recognize the dismissal.
“How much?”
The words struck him raw and the tether he had on his patience slipped a notch. “My honor is not for sale.”
Jacob ceased his movement on the bellows and stepped away from the forge. Crossing his arms over the massive barrel of his chest, he fixed Drake with a glare. “Miz Thea, she be wanting to sail on your ship, sir.”
Drake’s hands curled into fists at his side as he tried to maintain what little was left of his patience. “I am aware of that Jacob, but it is impossible. I am already losing too much time to this repair.”
They would be hours ahead had the blacksmith been willing to come aboard The Golden Dragon.
Jacob did not look in the least repentant. He turned his gaze on Thea. “Miz Thea, you be wanting to go on Mr. Drake’s ship?”
Thea nodded her head. “Yes, Jacob. Very much. I have my own schedule to keep and none of our ships will be sailing for England for at least a month.”
Jacob turned back to Drake. “You take de passengers, yes?”
Drake gave a reluctant nod. “Yes, but I cannot delay waiting for Miss Selwyn to get ready.”
How many times would he have to say it before both the stubborn woman and blacksmith would accept that he would not risk his honor for Thea’s desire to attend the Season?
/>
“Miz Thea, you be delaying Mr. Drake?”
Thea shook her head vehemently. “No. I can be ready to sail in two hours.”
Drake laughed. He could not help it. No lady of his acquaintance could prepare for a voyage in that amount of time. Most women took months to prepare for such a journey. Even two weeks would seem short. Two hours was absurd.
“I’m afraid Miss Selwyn is not being realistic.”
Thea glared at him.
He returned her glare with a smile. “The Golden Dragon will be weeks out of the harbor by the time you are packed and ready to go. You have more chance being ready for one of your own ships sailing in the month.”
“You be going without your boiler, sir?”
Dread snaked up Drake’s spine and along with it, fury. “No.” If he had to do the damn repair himself, he’d have the boiler and be sailing out of the harbor before nightfall.
Jacob nodded as if Drake had confirmed his belief. “It won’t be ready for…” He let his words trail off and turned to Thea for guidance.
“Two hours,” she said firmly.
“Two hours,” repeated the big Black man.
Drake knew when to fight and when to allow his opponent to believe he, or in this case, she had won.
He fixed Thea with his gaze. “The Golden Dragon will sail in two hours with her boiler. If you wish to sail on her, you and your luggage will be aboard.”
He would have reiterated that she would be left behind otherwise, but in a swirl of bright muslin, she was gone.
Jacob grinned at Drake. “She be aboard, sir. You can be counting on it.”
Drake shrugged as if his heart had not increased its rhythm at the very thought of Thea sailing on his ship. Not to mention that other parts of his anatomy sat up and took notice as well. “If she wants to sail, she will be.”
“I be finishing the boiler now, sir.”
“Excellent.”
******
Thea’s bedroom looked like a blue northerner had blown through, not one frantic woman, her maid and her aunt. Clothes lay strewn across the counterpane of her bed. A nearly full trunk and valise reposed on the floor near the wardrobe.