Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) (47 page)

BOOK: Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One)
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“So, do you think we stand a chance?” Lucky stopped and turned toward him.

Ian looked over the competition once more, and nodded. “Oh, I’d say the odds are very good. Next to McKim’s lady out there, we’ve definitely got the best boats in this race. A little smaller, a little aged, but well broken in. More importantly, both of them are lovingly maintained and handled.” They walked away from the dock and the preparations for the next day’s ceremony. “I believe everything is ready for the morning. God willing, we’ll have good wind.”

“The weather will hold until we’re well out,” Lucky said as he scanned the sky and horizon around them. Ian didn’t question him. He knew better. Like an old sailor, Lucky had an instinct for forecasting weather just by looking at the clouds. “Remember, my sister’s throwing us a dinner party to see us off. Be at the house around seven.”

“I’ll be there. You know I wouldn’t miss an opportunity for real food. Anything is better than the grub Mick throws into a kettle,” Ian said as they neared a waiting hackney.

“You need to find a better cook,” Lucky replied. “So you stop trying to take mine away.”

The driver tipped his hat and opened the door for the men. “You go on without me. I’m just going to get cleaned up, make sure the watch is in place, and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Fine.” Lucky gave a quick nod to the man holding the door, then asked Ian if he needed the address again. Ian shook his head, and asked the hackney driver to simply return for him after dropping off Lucky. “Then I’ll see you soon.”

The hackney door closed on his friend. After the driver cued the horse to move on, Ian turned back to the dinghy tied below, and rowed out to the
Revenge,
his best hope for victory in this race
.
Their supplies had been loaded earlier in the day, so he’d moved his boat away from the hustle and bustle of the dock. And any potential sabotage. Not that he suspected his fellow competitors of such underhanded behavior, but one could never be too careful when the stakes were this high. Tying off the dinghy, he climbed onto the deck and double-checked to make sure all was in readiness for the start of the race.

Normally, he wouldn’t have even considered wasting their time entering a race, but the twenty-five thousand pound purse was far too large to ignore. More importantly, if he and Lucky were serious about succeeding in their joint venture, the newly chartered British Tea Import Company, they needed more ships. Two retrofit Baltimore schooners, though a respectable beginning, wouldn’t turn the kind of profits necessary to expand their business in the manner they wanted. The one tea run they’d made last year left him with barely enough to live on after paying the note—a full half of what they’d borrowed—and their crews’ salaries. Lucky might not need the money as much as he did, but he’d be damned if he’d let his partner pay their way until they could turn a profit. Lucky had done enough already by paying the shipyard bill for the retrofit of the two boats over the past winter.

His dream, and Lucky’s too, was to have a fleet of at least a dozen clippers, preferably designed and built to their specifications. After carefully studying Colonel Beaufoy’s publication,
Nautical and Hydraulic Experiments
, where Beaufoy tested and found Newton’s hydraulics theory unlikely, Ian had begun drawing his own hull designs. In order to maximize hull space for valuable cargo, Ian’s idea was first to streamline the design of the hull; next to make her longer and deeper in the keel; then, thirdly, to eliminate the complete dependence on ballast and use lead plate on the keel in conjunction with minimal internal ballast for stabilization. He was excited and anxious to test his theory. If it worked, he knew it would forever change the way hulls were designed and built. And his father, wherever his soul rested, would be proud.

Having grown up with a naval architect for a father, a man who designed clipper hulls and constructed them, Ian knew that shipyards in New York and Baltimore were more willing to build experimental designs; whereas in Aberdeen and Halifax, they were more likely to insist the time-tested and proven designs they have been very successful building for the last twenty years were better. Ian knew his design held promise, and so did his partner. But, he would amuse Lucky and have the Aberdeen yards look at the designs, but Ian knew they would likely have to go back to America to have them built.

Ian made his way down to his small cabin, stopping to take a bucket of fresh water from the barrel near the companionway. He ladled some into the metal basin, set the bucket down near the washstand, then stripped. He dunked his head into the bowl and began washing. One day, he’d like to have a house with a proper bathing chamber. There would be no more tossing water out of the aft windows and refilling wash basins. No more bathing with cold water except when at sea. Worst of all were the times he had to bathe with salt water, because it always left him feeling sticky and itchy. For that reason, he understood why some of the crew went without baths during those times.

Life at sea wasn’t the romantic, adventurous dream he’d imagined. But, this had been his reality for the past three years since leaving university. He supposed he could have lived on credit and taken rooms somewhere, as did others in his financial situation. But Ian was too American for that, as Lucky reminded him on those rare occasions he complained out loud. He might be the nephew of the current Earl of Mackeever, but he was still the American-born son of a Baltimore naval architect who designed ships for the Americans in their war for independence. A fact not lost to most of his classmates. Except for Lucky, who was as much of an outsider because of his foreign title and swarthy appearance as he for his American blood at a time when most still remembered their deceased loved ones. In that atmosphere, he and Lucky had become fast friends; then immediately after university, business partners.

Now, at age twenty-five, Ian had the entire world before him.

And no place to call home except this ship.

Opening the cabinet, he remembered the cedar lining still needed replacing as he took out his good clothing. Repairs inside his cabin had been low in priority during the renovations, but now as he looked over his best trousers to make sure they weren’t moth-eaten or torn somewhere, he decided it needed to get moved up on the list. He checked the coat and linen shirt also for tiny holes, saw none and smiled. Lifting the only waistcoat he owned, he noticed the stitching at the edge of the wool where it met the satin was coming apart, but knew it would remain hidden by the coat if he kept it on.

If he ever planned to take his place in society, he would need to pay more attention to his dress. Ian owed it to his father’s sisters not to be an embarrassment when he did. Especially after all they’ve done for him over the years, from taking him in when his father sent him over for a formal education to sponsoring his entrée into society. Events like this dinner with Lucky’s family were sure to become more common as they became more successful. He had to get over the gnawing hatred of his two uncles, and think of tonight as an opportunity to polish his manners, and become more accustomed with the world he’d not been born to, but found himself in now. To do so would make those little old ladies proud.

 

L
ady Sarah Eileen Halden dropped her gaze as her brothers discussed the upcoming race, lest they see the delight in her eyes while her final plan started to form. The rented home in Liverpool the family had taken for the next several months was nowhere near as large or opulent as Caversham House or Haldenwood, but it had something that would serve her well this night, as she’d spied it right after arriving and looking over her temporary bedroom. She had a balcony, that was a mere ten or twelve feet above ground. Sarah could quite easily climb over the railing and ease herself down. The drop, after lowering herself as much as possible, wouldn’t be much more than the jump from her favorite tree at home.

She saw it as a sign that she was meant to go with Lucky on this race.

“Ian and I have gone over the charts several times, and already plotted our course.” Lucky pointed to something on the map Sarah’s brother Ren, the Duke of Caversham, had spread across the table in the drawing room where they all gathered while waiting for the last of their dinner guests to arrive. “Both crews have been with us since last year. They made the tea run with us, and they’re all veteran sailors. Most have crossed the Atlantic at least once, some several times. So we’re very confident in everyone’s abilities.”

“Good,” her brother, Ren, said, “I know this is an exciting challenge for you, but remember do not push your boat any harder than she can handle. Even if you don’t win this race, you know I’ll finance you.”

“I appreciate your offer, Ren, truly. But this is something I want to do on my own, and Ian feels the same.”

Just then, the butler announced the arrival of Ian Alexander Ross, Lucky’s business partner and long-time friend. When Sarah looked up and met his eyes, she could have sworn her heart skipped several beats and her mouth went dry. His brown-eyed gaze met hers and she quickly turned away and took a sip of her sweet wine.

It had been over a year since she’d last seen him., the night he’d come for dinner at Caversham House before leaving on their trip to China. She remembered it was right as the season was getting underway, and she’d thought it was a shame he wouldn’t be around to amuse her and her friends. After all, he was certainly handsome enough then. But now he was Adonis come to life. The last year seemed to have matured him even more. He’d become broader in the shoulders and his face bore a healthy sun-kissed glow. His dark blond hair was liberally streaked with gold in a manner that could only have come from working out in the sunshine on the open sea, like hers had when she was a girl sailing her little sloop around the pond, pretending she was a great explorer.

Rugged and handsome. Those were the only words she could think of as she glanced at him again. Without a doubt his viking god-like looks caused tiny tremors to course through her body when she just looked at him. She felt perhaps, if given time together, there would certainly be a curious plethora of emotions and feelings to discover.

Sarah had to stop thinking of him this way. As attractive as the man was, she had no time for flirtation. She had a race to sail with Lucky.

From her position, half-turned from him, she covertly watched him greet some of the other guests as he slowly made his way toward where she stood with her brother Ren, and her brother-by-marriage Lucky. As he did, she noticed his evening wear was somewhat outdated, but it did nothing to detract from his intense vitality. Before she embarrassed herself, she took her leave from her Ren and Lucky and sought her sister-in-law’s company as she sat with a group of ladies, including her sister Elise.

Talk among the women soon turned to the goings on in town now that the season was almost over. Lady Vance smiled and shared some of the interesting events they’d attended over the past months. “My girls are still in town with their aunt,” she said, “and they were loathe to leave. Now that my two nieces are married, my sister is relishing taking my elder daughter through the season’s events.”

Sarah traveled in a different set than Miss Vance, the younger girl’s friends being more the blue-stocking type. Just the same, she smiled politely, remembering how exciting that first season had been for her as well. She’d truly enjoyed her first and even her second season. Then her friends began to marry, leaving her to start their own families. And with each successive year her tolerance for the superficiality that was the season grew thinner. In her head and heart she was always elsewhere. Her friends knew it, and the men she’d met sensed it. Which is why she was twenty one and still unwed, without a prospect on the horizon.

Sarah had long grown bored with what was her lot in life. She craved adventure. Needed to see the world. Growing up, she’d always questioned why it was that men were respected when they successfully ventured outside the boundaries set for them by society, but never women. Why was a woman’s reputation in tatters when she did something bold and adventurous, and not a man’s?

The year before she’d thought to stowaway with Lucky to China, but was afraid. That fear was the only thing keeping her inside her comfy, gilded cage—the fear of not being accepted after she’d gone to seek her grand adventure. But not this year.

With only a few weeks until the end of this—her fourth—season, Sarah was beginning to feel her fate might lie in spinsterhood because of these ideas. She knew she was choosy, but wasn’t about to compromise in her requirements for a husband. Not only did he have to desire adventure as much as she, his kiss should leave her weak in the knees and curl her toes—something her friends told her was how they knew their husbands were the ones for them.

So, unless and until she found that man, she wouldn’t consider marriage. She’d rather remain the eccentric relative to her family. Because she would never compromise those two requirements.

Her decision made to take this chance for adventure, she would turn her back on caution and grasp this one opportunity for adventure. And worry about what might happen upon her return tomorrow.

“You’re quiet little sister,” her sister Elise said as she sidled up to Sarah, who stood on the fringe of the group of ladies. “You have a wistful look about you. What are thinking about?”

“Wondering why I couldn’t have been born a male. I envy Lucky.”

Elise stifled a giggle. “You would have made a very effeminate male, and not very attractive to the ladies I dare say.”

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