Prize of My Heart (14 page)

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Authors: Lisa Norato

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #General, #Historical, #Romance, #FIC042030, #FIC042000, #Massachusetts—History—1775–1865—Fiction, #FIC042040, #Family secrets—Fiction

BOOK: Prize of My Heart
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George’s expression turned to stone.

“You admit it?” Jane’s tone rang of shock as she draped an arm protectively about Lorena’s waist. “You poisoned her, Mr. Louder? Not that we did not believe you, Lorena, but he does have a manner of presenting himself to be everything amiable and helpful.”

George’s color rose along with his defenses. He shot Jane an indignant glare. “Vomit powder is not a poison, Mrs. Ellery. By all accounts, it is most often considered a remedy.”

“A remedy?” Jane scoffed. “No remedy for unreturned love, Mr. Louder, surely!”

Heads turned on the
Lady Julia
as the
Yankee Heart
forged up alongside the brig. Brogan signaled Jabez from the quarterdeck to issue the command to ready the longboat. Warrick had shined his boots and assisted him into his cutaway coat. As Brogan shrugged it onto his shoulders, the young steward presented him his leather baldric and sword.

“I don’t recall asking for my sword.”

“He insisted, sir.” With a jerk of his head, Warrick indicated Drew watching earnestly at his side.

The boy stepped forward. “How shall you defend Lorena with no weapon? Shall I come and bring my sling? I’m quite an excellent shot. I protect what is mine.”

Brogan held his grin in check. “I’m well aware of how excellent a shot you are, but we’ve discussed this and my orders are that you remain out of sight with Warrick. I believe I’m capable of handling this myself, thank you.”

The boy pushed the encased sword in Warrick’s hands toward him. “If I were captain, I would do it myself, but you, sir . . . you must do it.”

“Here now, mind your tongue, lad, when addressing your captain,” Brogan said, but found he could not disappoint his son’s sense of adventure and so slung the baldric across his shoulder, allowing the sword to rest at his hip.

Drew’s little shoulders relaxed. He handed Brogan his speaking trumpet, which Brogan took up to shout, “Brig ahoy! What brig is that?”

“The
Lady Julia
, seven days out of Plymouth,” her captain returned.


Lady Julia
,” Brogan announced to his crew, whereupon their voices rose together in three shouts of “hurrah.”

He cast his gaze over the
Lady Julia
’s deck, searching through the crowd. “The ship
Yankee Heart
, four days from Duxboro,” he hailed back through the trumpet. “I request an audience. I am sending a boat.”

His crew rowed him to the brig, where Brogan scaled the
Lady Julia
’s side ladder. He swung himself over the rails, planting his Hessians firmly on deck. Doffing his hat to a sea of curious faces, he gave them no more than a quick glance, as a stout fellow of middle years with dark red muttonchops stepped forward.

“Captain Josiah Winsor.” He extended a hand, which Brogan eagerly accepted.

“Captain Brogan Talvis of the ship
Yankee Heart
.” As he bowed he heard William arrive behind him. “Allow me to introduce my second mate, William Farragut.”

The two officers nodded to each other, upon which Brogan continued, “I have a grave matter to present before you, Captain Winsor. I have information that you may have a young passenger on your brig made to board against her will. I am come to make certain of her safety and to ferry her home to her much concerned father.”

Captain Winsor responded with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “I can assure you, Captain. There’s been no sign of foul play aboard this vessel. If a lady had been abducted, don’t you think I’d be aware of such? This has been a peaceful voyage.”

“And peaceful it shall remain once I remove the young woman in question. I am prepared to make compensation for her mistaken passage and the delay of your voyage, but you can depend upon this, Captain—we are not leaving until she’s found.”

“Brogan! Brogan, I am here.”

With a tug of his heartstrings, Brogan harkened toward the voice and found Lorena separating herself from those gathered about. Her eyes burned into his, velvety brown and gentle, aglow with hope and all the purity of her soul.

Dressed in homespun with her hair tucked inside a white cotton bonnet, her humbled, weary appearance stirred his compassion. Yet her cheeks glowed as she smiled back at him, leaving Brogan awash with relief that she was found safe.

He was hastening to meet her as she came running to take the hand he offered when a voice rose from the assembly behind her.

“Captain Winsor, be warned, I beseech you.” George Louder shoved his way to the front of the crowd to grab Lorena gruffly by the shoulder before Brogan could reach her. She gasped in midstep as the shipwright pointed a finger accusingly. “That man is a privateer. He’s guilty of engaging in acts of piracy on these very waters. You mustn’t permit him to remove a woman passenger from this good brig.”

Brogan stepped forward and gave Louder a shove that forced him to release Lorena and sent him staggering backward into the crowd of alarmed onlookers. “It is a pity I am not the authority here, as you, Louder, are a passenger under Captain Winsor’s command. But you speak ill of the lady being in danger of me. It is
you
who are the guilty party. You who needs be exposed before these witnesses as the coward you are. For you forced Miss Huntley aboard this brig against her will, and under no circumstance will I let you mistreat her further.”

The weasel straightened and shot him a glare of pure disgust.

“Young lady,” said Captain Winsor, “is it your desire to remove with Captain Talvis to his ship?”

As she turned her soft gaze upon him, Brogan explained, “I don’t understand how an intelligent woman like yourself came to be separated from Drew and aboard this vessel against your wishes, but your family was of the absolute opinion that was indeed the case, and so I am come to escort you home.”

Her eyes spoke as loudly as her simple “Thank you.” Lorena turned and nodded enthusiastically to Captain Winsor. “I wish to remove to the
Yankee Heart
very much so, yes.”

“And you go of your own free will?”

“I do, Captain.”

“Then so be it. I bid you depart peacefully, Captain Talvis, so as to not frighten these good people nor disrupt my voyage any longer. I’ll suffer no fighting aboard my brig.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Brogan began to escort Lorena to the gangway, when George Louder’s bitter laugh rose above the assembly. “Yes, be the hero, Captain Talvis. Rescue this damsel you believe to be in distress. Take her, I say, and with my glad tidings. Her presence aboard has been most disagreeable. She’s been nothing but an annoyance, and I can’t recall why I ever allowed her along. But no matter, for I have already had my pleasure and now I throw my leavings back to you.”

In a swift move of unleashed fury, Brogan drew his sword and poised its lethal, polished edge beneath Louder’s chin. “You filthy weasel,” he spat. The insult on Lorena festered hotly within him, and Brogan burned with the injustice.

A collective gasp rose from the deck. Passengers and crew drew back. Brogan could feel the tension in their silence. He heard William’s steps behind him and knew the mate stood ready to defend his captain, just as Brogan sensed his crew aboard the
Yankee Heart
go on the alert.

“Here, here, now!” Captain Winsor opened his coat in warning of reaching for the pistol he had tucked into his leather belt.

Brogan raised a hand to stay them all, though he doubted whether he could stomach the sight of the weasel a moment longer without anger getting the better of him. “I should like nothing better than to make fish bait of you, Louder, but I promised Captain Winsor there’d be no violence. However, if I truly am the despicable character you accuse me of, it should take little to provoke me into breaking that promise. Perhaps I shall gut you right here. Then, rather than arriving in England, you be traveling straight to Davy Jones’s locker.”

Louder’s eyes burned with hate and rage, which never wavered from Brogan’s, as he stepped closer to Captain Winsor in a show of alliance . . . or perhaps, Brogan thought, he merely sought protection.

“I see you’ve no qualms about a public display of brute force, Captain. A chance for all to see the fruit of your life’s work,” Louder taunted, appealing to the crowd. “Terrorism at sea.”

Brogan’s anger swelled. Lorena curled her fingers around his forearm and gave it a squeeze, staying him. She lifted her face to his with calm assurance, lingering over his features in an expression of hero worship Brogan did not feel worthy of. She was beautiful to such a degree that he could not stand in her presence without awareness of that beauty stirring a reaction in him, but suddenly her loveliness took on a force that seemed to reach into his very soul.

“He hasn’t yet apologized,” he protested, eyeing Louder.

“What good purpose is an apology made at the point of a sword?” Lorena asked him.

She was expecting him to rise above his desire to strike the coward, and something inside him could not disappoint her. He placed some distance between them with a step backward and sheathed his sword. “I once promised Lorena I’d not strike you again, and it is only for her I step aside. But before we leave, have you anything to say to the lady, Louder?”

Brogan waited for an apology that didn’t come. “No? Very well then. Let us not delay your voyage any further, Captain Winsor.”

He turned from Louder’s cold stare to take Lorena’s elbow, but she pulled away and slapped the shipwright soundly across the face.

Brogan stood in awe.

“Best you do well for yourself in England, George, for you are no longer welcome in Duxboro,” she said. “You’re a cruel, selfish man.”

Turning her back on him, she addressed Brogan, saying, “Allow me to say good-bye to my friends and then we can be on our way. As you can imagine, I’m anxious to sail home on the
Yankee Heart
.”

Brogan watched her proudly as Lorena stepped into the embrace of an older woman with striking red hair. Louder watched also, his complexion paling to near white. He turned toward Brogan, and as they glared at each other, the weasel began to tremble with rage. No sooner did Brogan recognize the madness in those dark eyes than Louder whipped around and grabbed the pistol from Captain Winsor’s waistband.

He leveled it straight at Brogan’s chest.

12

I
’m thrilled to be going home, though I wish that didn’t mean I must bid farewell to you, dearest Jane.”

The arms embracing Lorena stiffened as Jane gave a frightened scream. Lorena glanced into her friend’s face, then whirled in the direction of her horrified stare. George had a pistol trained on Brogan.

How could this be? Fear squeezed her heart until it felt she could scarcely draw a breath. George was guilty of many selfish acts, but he wasn’t a murderer. Was he? Lorena just didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Brogan eyed him unflinchingly. “Let me caution you to think this through, Louder. You may shoot me, but you still won’t have Lorena. My crew have been trained in battle. Formerly privateersmen all . . . pirates, as you prefer to label us. Think what they’ll do should you harm me. I would not be surprised if my chief mate didn’t have a musket trained on you this very moment. And Captain Winsor won’t protect you once you’ve fired that pistol.”

“He’s correct, Mr. Louder.” Captain Winsor stretched forth his hand. “This action is most ill-advised, sir. Return me my weapon.”

“Think of your hopes and dreams.” Lorena stepped closer, but Brogan warded her off with a raised hand. “Think of the prosperous future you’ve planned for yourself in England. Look at me, George. Do you really want to sacrifice everything you’ve worked your entire life for—your freedom and maybe your life—all for an impulsive moment of retaliation against Captain Talvis?”

The pistol began to tremble in George’s hand. “You were wrong about me, Lorena,” he said, though he kept his focus on Brogan. “I do recognize how precious you are. My love has always been true. Know that. And that I wish you happy. I-I-I’m sorry.”

Lorena was taken off guard. “George, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I do believe, for the first time, you may actually be sincere.”

George nodded. “I am.”

“Then I accept your apology. Drop the pistol, George.”

He hung his head and his arm went limp. Brogan snatched away the pistol while Captain Winsor’s men seized George from behind.

Brogan returned the weapon to the
Lady Julia
’s captain. “We shall leave immediately, sir,” he said.

Captain Winsor gave a grave nod. “That would be most advisable.”

Jane and her family followed Lorena to the gangway. Below, the longboat bobbed and rolled on the waves splashing against the
Lady Julia
’s side. Three pairs of seamen sat at the oars.

Jane blinked back moisture from her eyes. “I will miss you, Lorena Huntley. Perhaps it is selfish of me to feel saddened to see you go, but this voyage shall seem lonely without you. Go with God’s blessing. It’s good to see a smile on your face.”

Lorena nodded, sobered by how quickly fortune had turned around for her since only that morning. “I shall miss you too, Jane. Please take my day dress and spencer. I wish it were more of an offering, but at the very least, you will have my dress and I shall have yours . . . as a remembrance. Not that I’ll need a reminder of you. I’ll never forget your care of me throughout this misadventure of mine. I’ve been blessed to have met you kind Ellerys,” she added with a smile for Thomas and Matthew, “and now to be returning home. Good-bye, Jane, Thomas, Matthew. God see you all safely to England.”

“And you, Miss Huntley,” Thomas returned, draping an arm across his brother’s shoulders so as to include the young man in the sentiment. “Godspeed.”

Matthew gave her a shy smile. “I swear I shall never taste an equal to your mince pie.”

Lorena glanced behind to hide a smile and found Brogan overseeing the hauling of gifts of vintage port, coffee, teas, cheeses, and fruit up from the longboat, which he then bestowed on Captain Winsor.

He’d come to her rescue when he’d no obligation to do so. When not even the delicate affection of their budding friendship would have warranted the expense and inconvenience of taking the
Yankee Heart
on this unexpected maiden voyage.

He was a fine man, as it turned out, despite their early confrontations. Yet so much more than his charity attracted her. Lorena admired him in profile, speaking with Captain Winsor as a lock of sandy hair fell across his brow to partially cover one eye. His was a strong, masculine face. An appearance made all the more authoritative by the proud set of his shoulders and a masterful stance that reached into his black leather Hessians.

I adore him
.

With that thought came a new and startling sensation that had every cell in her body stirring to life and bubbling with excitement. Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Still, the truth remained. Lorena craved nothing more than to be sheltered in the protection of his arms.

Having concluded his business, Brogan beckoned her to join him, where he introduced her to his second mate. He swung himself onto the rope ladder, pausing to instruct her. “Follow me down once I have reached the boat. Mr. Farragut will assist you from above, and I shall be waiting below to receive you. Do you think you can do this?”

“I can assure you, Captain, my excitement to be going home prevails over any hesitation I have in navigating a rope ladder.”

He looked at first surprised by her confidence, then amused. “It is a wonder, then, that such an adept young woman managed to find herself in this helpless situation. I am curious to hear the tale.”

“And I will tell it, if I must. But not here.”

He descended into the longboat, where he stood balanced in the rocky boat and waited with a self-satisfied smile.

Lorena stepped over the
Lady Julia
’s side after him, finding purchase for her slippers on the first rung of the rope ladder before continuing with her descent. Three quarters of the way down she felt Brogan cinch her waist from behind, holding her secure until she was close enough for him to lift into the boat.

In the tossing boat she lost her bearings and stumbled. Brogan held steady behind her, solid as a tree, righting her, then guiding her to a seat in the bow.

As he settled down beside her, awareness of his masculinity left her silent.

The oars were lowered and they shoved off, all six crewmen putting their backs into rowing across a choppy sea. It swelled like a living thing about them, rocking the boat and dampening her face with spray. Lorena found Jane amongst the faces lining the
Lady Julia
’s rails and waved a final good-bye.

In the opposite direction, the much larger
Yankee Heart
loomed closer and closer in all her lofty magnificence. Lorena picked out Mr. Smith at the gangway, waiting to receive them. He drew a small figure forward, closer to the rails. Was that . . . Drew? Happiness filled her so completely, Lorena thought she must be dreaming, and yet she’d never felt more alert. Drew was aboard and would be traveling with her.

The longboat closed alongside the massive hull, and Brogan stood, securing the boat hook to the
Yankee Heart
’s chains. One of the oarsmen caught the rope ladder, and Lorena was ushered up first.

“Welcome aboard, miss,” Mr. Smith called down as she scaled the ship’s great wooden side. He lent a hand to assist her on board while the crew gave a round of cheers. Having manned the yards, several returned to the deck, sliding down a single rope.

Lorena whooped along with them, and then Drew hurled himself into her arms. Dropping to her knees to receive him, she squeezed him in a hug and covered his face with kisses. He giggled and clung to her neck. “You don’t know how relieved I am to see you, my little man. I should never have let you out of my sight that day.”

“It’s ye we are relieved to see, Miss Huntley.” Jabez Smith assisted her to her feet. “And won’t yer papa be happy for this day. Ye are a fortunate lady to have a family who loves ye watching over yer welfare. Ye have not been harmed?”

“I am well, Mr. Smith, thank you. And fully aware of my blessings, make no mistake. Though I think we both know I owe thanks to more than those within my own family.”

She caught the eye of Brogan, who by now had joined them on deck. She was moved by the warmth in his gaze, drawn into the high spirits and excitement circulating among the crew.

“I won’t easily forget this day,” she said. “I have seen this ship countless times under construction, and now I feel honored to be sailing with her. I say hurrah to the
Yankee Heart
, to her captain and to all who sail aboard her.”

Holding fast to Drew’s hand, Lorena was pleasantly surprised at the crew’s response. They raised their voices, cheering, “Huzzah to the
Yankee Heart
! Huzzah to Captain Talvis! Huzzah to us all!”

She empathized with their loyalty and shared their pride. As she glanced at the many faces gathered round, two shocked her as decidedly familiar.

“Edward! What’s this? You are here, as well? And Mr. Mott! Can it be? Have you both signed articles with the
Yankee Heart
?”

Her father’s men approached her with greetings. They asked after her travels, eager to know how she fared, then explained their temporary roles on board.

Poor, dear Edward expressed especial pleasure to see her. “I blame myself for not taking better care,” he said. “I should have been watching out for you and Drew, but George was my friend . . . at least I believed him to be so. I had no reason to distrust him or to suspect that he would use me to trick you. Forgive me, Lorena.”

Lorena touched his hand consolingly. “All is forgotten now, Edward. Do not berate yourself. Believe me when I say no one was at fault for what happened, save George Louder. I considered him a friend also, but he misused our friendship.”

Brogan strode into their midst to take Lorena’s elbow. “Perhaps we should allow Miss Huntley to retire to her cabin for a rest before dinner.”

He appraised his deck of idle crewmen. “Mr. Smith, see everyone returns to their duties. Let us be quick about changing course and sailing our young miss home. Mr. Mott, I’ll have you break out the finest of Mr. Huntley’s stores, if you please, and prepare us a meal in celebration of Miss Huntley’s safe return.”

As the sailors dispersed to obey orders, he turned to Lorena with a twinkle in his china blue eyes. “And now, Miss Huntley, if you would care to accompany us, a surprise awaits you in your cabin. Is that not right, Drew?”

He hoisted the boy in the air, tossing him playfully while Drew squealed with joy and, through his giggles, answered, “Yeeeeeeessss!”

It was a heartwarming exchange that had Lorena recalling all over again the curious affinity for the boy Brogan had displayed from the first. Memories returned of Brogan’s upset when she’d removed Drew from the supper table to put him to bed, the way Brogan had praised Drew’s skill with a sling even though the weapon had been turned on him, and how subsequently Brogan made certain to include Drew in their plans anytime he came calling for her.

And now, in her absence, the pair seemed to have grown closer still.

How was it so? That an unfettered, childless, widower captain, who’d spent these past few years at sea embroiled in war, showed remarkable tenderness for a boy he barely knew?

What bond had forged between them during the course of their short voyage? It was as if they shared something to which Lorena was not privy. A connection she could not define.

“Lead the way, then, young sailor,” Brogan charged as he set Drew back on his feet.

“Come, Lorena,” the child urged, pulling her aft toward the quarter gallery. “Come see.”

Hand in hand they walked, taking care to keep from getting underfoot of the crew. Drew smiled confidently as he led her about, drawing her attention to particular points of interest. Everywhere seamen moved about the ship. Those sailors who did not have their feet planted firmly on deck hung from a confusion of rigging and sails.

Brogan followed close behind, though at the midship bulkhead he stepped forward to open a door.

Lorena knew well the ship’s plan, but allowed Drew to guide her down a corridor into the great cabin. Here was the grand seagoing parlor just as she remembered, paneled in mahogany and trimmed with the yellowish luster of satinwood. The difference now being the fully furnished compartment, seeing those articles that had been either purchased or commissioned during the weeks the
Yankee Heart
was being rigged placed in their rightful home, transforming the once cavernous cabin into a comfortable living space as fine as any house built on New England soil.

Lorena skimmed a fingertip across the large mahogany dining table. Damask curtains of willow green dressed the stern windows with matching cushions on the window seats. Daylight reflected off the fresh white paint of the ceiling and the silver lanterns hanging from its beams. There was also a settee and matching wing chairs.

Lorena curled her toes inside her slippers, pressing them deeper into the Brussels carpet. “It’s all so lovely.”

“I could not have expected less.” Brogan’s gaze followed hers around the cabin, the corners of his lips crooked slightly upward in pride. “If you recall, it was you, Lorena, who helped me choose these fabrics and several of the furnishings.”

“How satisfying a surprise to find them all looking so well together. I believe I shall enjoy this cruise very much.”

“This isn’t your surprise,” Drew said with a giggle as though she were quite silly.

“It is not? What else could there be?” Sifting her fingers through the boy’s pale curls, she glanced down at his sweet face with a raised brow. “Truthfully, sweetheart, I do not think anything could make me happier than I feel right now.” In a matter of hours she had gone from despair to a contentment her heart could barely contain.

“Step this way and we’ll show you,” Brogan said, directing her portside to a closed cabin door.

But Lorena’s curiosity was already drawing her to the opposite end of the suite, where ledgers, charts, a divider, and parallel ruler lay sprawled across a large writing table. An old desk held journals and accounts with rolled documents stored carefully inside each pigeonhole. As she moved closer, Lorena inspected a small bookcase. One well-used book in particular caught her eye on a shelf of its own. Thin leather strips wrapped around its worn nut-brown casing, holding the pages together.

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