How to Marry a Rogue (4 page)

His eyes narrowed. “You have a sharp tongue, Georgiana. I’m not certain if I like this grown up version of the little doll I once knew.”

“That doll is gone, Jack. I am quite the adult now. I even walk downstairs by myself.”

“Well, that is a relief.” He grinned slowly. “I can see we are to have ourselves an enjoyable time. I’m tired of women who cannot keep a conversation going, unless it is to try and convince me to give up my scandalous ways.”

“Are you saying you enjoy being insulted every five seconds?”

“Coming from you,” he said, sighing, “I take it as a compliment.”

Silence overcame them, and she wondered if it would be proper to close her eyes and sleep, as Aunt Adele had done. She met Jack’s gaze, her stomach twitching when she realized he was still looking at her. “How much further, do you think? It seems like we’ve been cooped up in this coach for ages.”

“Goodness, Georgie. Are you going to complain the entire crossing?”

She blushed at his familiar teasing. “I merely inquired. If you do not have the answer, you may say so.”

“About three more hours. The sea crossing will be tons more enjoyable. You’ll be able to walk around the deck and take the air. With a proper escort, of course.”

She rolled her eyes, making him smile. “I’ve never been on a ship before.” She sat up straighter. “Will it be a rough crossing, do you think?”

“Not too bad, I suppose. But you will have to contend with the sea monsters. If you’re very good, I’ll toss you overboard so you can swim with the mermaids.”

“Are you going to insist on treating me as if I were six years old?”

“Come now, Georgiana! Who else entertains you as well as I?” He reached across the coach and patted her hand. “We will have an enjoyable crossing and an equally marvelous journey to Bordeaux. And I will be there to protect you, should you require it.”

“You are every inch a gentleman, Jack Waverley.”

He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, and she knew she would not be able to disturb him this time.

“Why do you and your brother always say that with a hint of mockery and not a little surprise?”

****

The deck heaved and rolled beneath her feet. Georgiana lost her footing and hurtled against the railing where she banged her hip. Her gloves and most of her pelisse were soaked with the sea spray springing up from the waves every few seconds, but she held on grimly. Standing on the deck of the packet ship
Essex
was the only thing that kept her from joining the other passengers, below in the cabins, seasick and miserable.

She’d left Aunt Adele doubled over a bucket but realized the open deck wasn’t a better choice. Glancing around the crowded deck teeming with sailors and a few other like-minded souls, she searched for Jack but didn’t see his telltale figure anywhere.

The ship slammed into a higher wave, and she sank to her knees, her cheek pressed to the rough wood that smelled of fish and saltwater.

Strong arms lifted her, and she turned to protest but sagged against Jack as he lifted her to her feet. “I thought you said the crossing would be smooth.”

His laughter vibrated from his chest. The roar of the sea and the noise of the crew had drowned out any sound. He bent his head, and a breath of warm air skimmed her forehead.

“Alas, I have no skills in predicting bad weather or seas. It is a smooth crossing, relatively speaking. A sea captain once told me about rounding the Horn. Now, that is a voyage you would never wish to take.”

She gripped his coat while he led her to a bench between some sturdy looking barrels, where they sat. She fell forward when the ship rocked again, and he reached his arm around her waist to steady her.

“I must say, Pudding Face, you are rather green around the gills.”

“How is it you are not ill?” She released his coat to hold her middle and prayed she wouldn’t humiliate herself by being sick all over her shoes.

“I have made this trip many times in the past few years. My grandfather’s heart is too weak for him to make the voyage. So, it has fallen to me.”

“You’re very good to do it.” She was grateful for the conversation, as it kept her attention off the horizon dipping over the bow.

“He pays me well.” He gave a wry smile. “I do not mind the journey. There is usually a little business to see to, and then I have an extraordinary amount of spare time to waste in the gambling halls and salons of Paris. If only you weren’t so young, I would take you.”

She choked. “My brother would have you strung up by your bootstraps!” But her heart panged for a moment. How exciting it would be to attend a ball with someone as exuberant as Jack.

She remembered Jonathan’s halting words to Sophie about Jack’s—what had Jonathan called them? “Truly, Jack; you must find some more wholesome pursuits.”

“Look at the little girl, lecturing me! Yes, I should. I will stop in for tea with you and Aunt Adele twice a week, and you can teach me knitting.”

“I do not knit.” She would have said more, but another wave almost sent her hurtling to the deck. Instantly, he pulled her close to his side, and she gritted her teeth, hiding her face in his coat. “Oh, God, make it stop.”

He brushed his hand over her cheek, just under her bonnet. “Close your eyes, Georgiana. It will make it a little better. I’ll hold onto you so you do not fall. This weather cannot last.”

His right hand rested on his knee. She gripped three of his fingers as hard as she could. “Keep talking to me, Jack. It’s not so bad when you’re talking too me.”

“What shall I talk about?”

Already, she felt a little better, with the familiar scent of his hair pomade and cologne in her nose, and his arm, heavy and safe, about her. He’d comforted her so often in the past it was perfectly natural to lay her cheek on his shoulder. For a moment, the hard muscles in his arm disappeared, and she felt the reassuring familiarity of his body. Grown or not, he was still the dear friend who’d always protected her.

“Tell me about the naughty things Jonathan and you did at Cambridge.” She fought a rise of bile as the ship bucked and danced over another crashing wave.

“There are so many. I hardly know where to begin.”

His broad, thick fingers clamped around her palm. She focused on the scars—some old, some more recent. Jack’s hands could tell stories her brother’s never could.

“Just…just think of something. Did you not wake up drunk on the steps of a chapel once?”

“That is hardly a suitable bedtime story for such a proper young lady. Your brother will not like it.”

She pinched his hand. “My brother is not here. Besides, I’ve already heard it. I especially like the part when you dropped unconscious at the Latin master’s feet after insisting you were dry as a monk. Tell it to me again.”

Sighing elaborately, Jack made a show of settling her against his side in preparation of telling a great tale. He brushed a drop of sea spray from her cheek. “Lockewood should not have told you these unsavory things about me. I wouldn’t want you to lose respect for me.”

“I lost respect for you long ago, so you are safe.”

He pinched the spot on her cheek he had just dried. “This is going to be a long voyage if you maintain your attitude, miss.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” she said demurely, patting his hand where it rested on his knee.

He turned his hand over and clasped her fingers. “How many times have you broken that promise?” he chided.

Chapter Four

“Terra firma at last!” Jack called out, helping Georgiana assist Aunt Adele, whose legs shook from her exhausting seasickness. They emerged from the cabins below, blinking in the bright morning sunlight.

“My poor nerves,” Aunt Adele murmured, clutching Jack’s arm with one hand and leaning on Georgiana with the other. “I dread our return, my dears, if the crossing is anything like what we’ve just endured. I know not how all these poor boys make the trip.” She nodded at the sailors, who scurried about the deck and gangplank with aplomb.

“The journey should be better at the end of summer,” Jack assured them. He winked at Georgiana. “You bore up quite well, miss. You should have seen her, Aunt Adele. She was a pillar of stoic fortitude. At one point, I rather feared our little girl was going to shove the pilot aside and take the wheel into her own hands.”

“I was not,” she corrected, but gave him a grateful look when Aunt Adele cracked the merest of smiles.

“My grandfather’s carriage should be waiting for us,” Jack said. “We’ll ride in comfort to Bolbec. You’ll have your land legs back in no time.”

Georgiana gazed up at him from beneath her lashes. His chest tightened, but he shook off the feeling. She was a good girl, and it was kind of her to be at her aunt’s disposal. He forced himself to picture her in a starched pinafore, her long curls bouncing down her back. She’d been beguiling back then, too, able to convince him and Jonathan—though less Jonathan and more so Jack—to play one more game. One more push on the swing beneath the giant oak standing guard in the park. Jonathan would allow a few more minutes, but Jack had been the victim of her charms too often. He’d once spent several hours patiently braiding daisies into crowns for her dolls, and another time had crawled around on all fours while she pretended he was her pet dragon.

Aunt Adele’s discreet cough brought him back to the present. He assisted Georgiana in situating the older woman on a bench outside a lading house.

“I’ll help you organize our things. We have so many trunks and boxes I fear you might leave one behind in your haste to be rid of us.” Georgiana took his arm before he’d offered it.

“I would never be so hasty as to leave the company of two pleasant ladies.” He swept a bow to Aunt Adele, who waved weakly.

“Off you go, my dears. As soon as I’m sitting by the hearth and drinking a cup of hot tea, I shall be as good as new.”

Jack led Georgiana through the throng of sailors and passengers swarming the crowded docks. He was mildly amazed at her ease in moving through all classes of workman and passenger, but it was the Lockewood goodwill in her. She looked around, her eyes shining with excitement. A twinge of sympathy filled him. She had suffered much because of Edward Mitford. One day, Mitford would receive his just reward. Jack fervently hoped he would be there to see it.

“What a lovely day,” Georgiana commented, after they’d given instructions of where to send the luggage. “I feel as if I am truly on holiday.”

Her earlier paleness had vanished. The salty, fresh air brought out a rosy hue in her cheeks reminding Jack of her younger self. Little else reminded him of how she used to look. She was taller than he’d expected but possessed natural curves no amount of tight corsetry could hide. Her blue eyes flashed before she turned away to look around at the bustling crowds.

He cleared his throat roughly, as if the gesture would also clear his mind.

Months ago, he’d been eager to start this journey, aware of the delights awaiting him. He’d made the acquaintance of a bored, married countess on his last visit. She’d written him several times, promising his latest trip would be one he’d remember. Before Lockewood had secured him to escort the ladies, the countess had filled his every waking thought. He glanced down at the gloved hand gripping his arm and couldn’t remember what the countess looked like.

Georgiana met his gaze. “I’m so glad you’re with me, Jack.” She tucked her other hand over his arm in a sort of embrace. A blush swept across her cheeks as she caught her breath. “I mean with us. With Aunt Adele and me.”

“As am I,” he said, before he could utter a teasing response instead.

****

Aunt Adele’s sister, a widow who had spent the last several years abroad, lived in an old chateau hardly deserving of the name. Mossy and overgrown, the gardens had seen better days, and Georgiana hid her disappointment as she stepped from the carriage. This was not the picturesque haven she’d envisioned. Her trepidation eased as Jack fussed over Aunt Adele, helping her from the carriage with the concern of a son.

Their journey from the harbor to Bolbec seemed too short. Every passing mile brought the moment of Jack’s departure closer. As relieved as she was to reach their destination, she was reluctant to say goodbye. He, on the other hand, seemed eager to be off, to an estate a few miles away his grandfather kept for such visits.

“We cannot thank you enough.” Aunt Adele took his hand and pulled him toward the house as her sister emerged. “I do not know what we would have done without you.” She turned to Lady Priscilla, who resembled her down to the wobbling chin and graying curls beneath her cap. “Sister, Mr. Waverley was a godsend. I don’t know how we would have borne the journey without him.”

The two women fussed over him for a few moments, and Georgiana hid a smile at his discomfited expression. But he wiggled his eyebrows at her when the others weren’t looking.

“It was my pleasure to have been of service to you and Miss Lockewood. I will call on you as soon as my work permits. If not, I will see you in three months, when we return to merry old England.”

“You must have some tea and rest after your journey.” Lady Priscilla took his other arm.

Georgiana stifled a laugh as they tugged his arms at the same time while he remained in place.

“Alas, I have business that cannot wait.” He pulled free and swept into a courtly bow.

Georgiana blocked his path to the carriage. “You are going to take me around, are you not? I do so wish to see some of the countryside. And Paris, too, of course.”

She bit the inside of her cheek at the petulant whine in her voice but couldn’t help her peevishness. He was almost desperate in his attempt to be rid of them. She recalled Jonathan’s warning that Jack was a man with many diverse appetites, and would probably not wish to associate with her once they were in France. At the time, she hadn’t cared either way, until she realized the voyage and the carriage ride were all the time they’d have together. Three months without his wit and conversation would be an eternity.

A blush seared her cheeks. Wit and conversation? Was that all she was going to miss?