Prize of My Heart (3 page)

“Ah, Drew, there you are. Come here and meet— Drew? Drew!”

The voice was Nathaniel Huntley’s, and as the shipbuilder strode into the hall, the boy backtracked up the stairs and disappeared around a corner as though the devil himself were hot on his heels. It was then Brogan realized his blunder in using the boy’s true given name and not the one he now answered to.

“Ah, Drew . . .” With a chuckle, Nathaniel Huntley threw up his hands and turned to his guests. “Do forgive the boy’s lack of hospitality, gentlemen. I believe he must have jumped out of bed this morning before his manners had a chance to follow. I often find myself inquiring, ‘Drew, have you left your manners under your pillow?’” Again the man chuckled, tickled by his own humor, and extended a hand to Brogan. “Captain Talvis, I am most pleased to see you again.”

As Brogan gripped Nathaniel Huntley’s hand, the shipbuilder clasped his left palm over the back of Brogan’s own hand to firmly seal the handshake, then pumped with a lively vigor.

His face was full and jolly. Deep laugh lines bracketed a well-defined mouth, and his brown eyes shone with a gentility that seemed to radiate from even the crinkles at their corners. When he laughed, the stripes of his silk waistcoat bounced gently over a protruding belly that strained at the buttonholes. His side whiskers had turned to white; his hair had worn to a soft gray brown and was left a tad longish behind the ears, where it feathered outward like the tips of angels’ wings.

The shipbuilder’s good cheer was infectious, and Brogan’s smile widened in response. “Thank you for your generous welcome, sir. And I return your enthusiasm. In fact, I have thought of nothing but this visit for months. Please allow me to introduce my chief mate, Jabez Smith.”

Huntley offered his hand. “So pleased to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

“Aye, and you, Mr. Huntley.”

“Am I to assume you are as anxious as the captain to proceed with this new venture?”

Brogan noticed a moment’s hesitation before Jabez answered, “Aye, that I am.”

Huntley clasped his hands together, lips firmly pressed as he inhaled and then expelled a deep breath of pleasure. “Well, gentlemen, this brings me great satisfaction. Do excuse my pridefulness when I tell you this merchantman is my finest achievement to date. My daughter, Lorena, is seeing to the arrangements for the launching ceremony. I should very much like to make an introduction this evening. I thought we might discuss the details then. I do hope you gentlemen still plan on joining my family and me for supper?”

Before Brogan could respond, Jabez elbowed him in the ribs, an imperceptible nudge that told Brogan the mate was wondering the same as he. How was it that their plan should unfold so neatly? Too neatly, as though the angel Jabez had spoken of earlier had come to aid and not to thwart. Quickly, lest Huntley think he was having second thoughts, Brogan nodded acceptance of the offer and said, “Thank you for your trouble, sir. You have gone out of your way to please me, for which I am extremely grateful. We accept your invitation and welcome the opportunity to meet your children.”

“Good, gentlemen, good,” Nathaniel Huntley chanted. “But I offer simple hospitality, that is all, as I expect we shall enjoy each other’s company for some time. It’s going to take at least two weeks, Captain, to haul your merchantman into the deep waters of the bay, not including the time afterwards when her masts and spars will be rigged.”

“Two weeks? Isn’t that an unusually long time to launch a vessel?” Jabez inquired of the shipbuilder.

“I’m afraid so, Mr. Smith, but you see, our Bluefish River is quite shallow, too shallow to accommodate a ship of this magnitude. My men will only be able to move her a few yards with each new tide. But not to worry.” With his next words, Huntley included Brogan, saying, “When you see her, you’ll agree she’s well worth the wait.”

Brogan refrained from telling the man he already had, as the dull ache in the back of his head well reminded him. “I have every confidence in you, sir.”

Nathaniel Huntley grinned, motioning to the rear of the house. “And now, if you’ll follow me, I won’t keep you waiting any longer. We shall step out through the back, and I shall take you straightaway to the shipyard so you may have a look for yourselves. Then we’ll stop by my carpentry shop. I wish to introduce you to George Louder, the talented master shipwright who designed your merchantman.”

Brogan followed, his thoughts not so much on his ship as on all the possibilities two weeks could hold. For that matter, an evening could hold, because tonight he’d be dining with his son.

Standing before the looking glass of her two-tiered Sheraton dressing table, Lorena worried her bottom lip as she tried to contain two handfuls of tight spice-brown ringlets that seemed to overtake her head the way English ivy overran a brick wall.

“No, Drew, you mustn’t” came Temperance’s voice from just outside her bedroom door. “A gentleman never intrudes upon a lady’s bedchamber. If you wish to see Lorena, you must wait until she is ready to receive you.”

“Oh, she won’t mind.”

Lorena dropped her hands, releasing the unbound coils that spilled to her waist, and then opened the door in time to see Temperance narrow her eyes at the rebellious little scamp. “I saw how rudely you behaved to Papa Huntley’s guests, and won’t you be embarrassed when you greet them for supper?”

She didn’t pause for Drew’s response, but marched past the boy, only to have him squeeze by her into the bedroom before she could finish closing the door in his face.

“I’ve seen him, Lorena.”

“He’s come!”

They spoke at once, both Temperance and Drew rushing to her side. Lorena raised a hand to ward them off. “Please, one at a time. Of whom do you speak?”

“Captain Talvis.”

“The giant!”

Again, they spoke at the same time, and it was all Lorena could do to still her racing heart long enough for reason to assure her they could not possibly be referring to the same man.

Temperance scrunched her nose at Drew as if he were something green and slippery that had crawled out of the root cellar. “The giant. What giant?”

Drew stuck his tongue out at the girl.

“Wait for me in your room, would you, Drew?” Lorena directed. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.” The giant . . . well, nothing could be more urgent than the giant, but Lorena needed to dismiss Temperance first. The giant was a most private and embarrassing matter.

“But—”

“No argument. Be a good boy and go to your room.” She eyed him sternly to end further protest.

Her astute little man got the message. He turned and walked out the door, practicing with his sling.

With an inward sigh of relief, Lorena turned to the fourteen-year-old servant girl she mentored like a sister. Both Temperance Culliford and her mother, Wealthea, had been fixtures in the Huntley household these seven years. Long ago, Temperance’s father vanished at sea amidst rumors he’d been impressed by the British, and Papa, being the good Christian man he was, had taken compassion by offering Mrs. Culliford employment as the family housekeeper. This included not only a steady income, but a cozy home within walking distance from Lorena’s own residence. Temperance and her mother were treated with the fondness and consideration of family members.

Lorena pulled a long piece of straw out from under the small ruffled cap hugging the top of Temperance’s head. “I thought I smelled horse,” she teased.

In the early morning hours, if either of them were nowhere to be found inside the house, just as everyone knew to look for Lorena in the summer kitchen, so too could they be assured of finding Temperance in the stables.

She was a spirited girl, and though some might look upon her equestrian pursuits as unladylike, Papa did not believe in discouraging an impassioned heart. And Temperance’s passion was for horses. For several years now he had turned a blind eye to her daily visits to the stable. He pretended not to notice the occasional absences from her duties. No one complained when there were no carrots to be found in the garden for dinner because they’d been fed to the horses earlier. Anyone could see they thrived under Temperance’s love and attention. They were God’s creatures. And Papa considered she was doing him a service in helping to groom and exercise his horses, for as long as the girl promised to be careful, he did not forbid her to ride them.

Sometimes he even brought her along riding with him for the company.

Lorena handed her back the piece of straw. “Now, Temperance, what of Captain Talvis? Has there been a change of plans about his joining us for supper?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.” Temperance claimed the white ribbon Lorena held and turned her to face the mirror. As she combed her fingers through Lorena’s long brown ringlets, she said, “But Mother would like to know which sweet you plan on preparing for this evening’s dessert.”

Lorena waved the girl’s hands away. “And what of my cranberry tarts? I was up at five this morning baking them.” As she whirled to confront Temperance, her hair tumbled once again down her back. “What’s become of them?”

“Drew ate two, dropped one on the floor, and stuck his fingers in another. There’s only a few left to serve with tea.”

Lorena didn’t dispute it was true, but four missing tarts was not cause to bake a whole new dessert. “And?” she prodded, suspecting more than Temperance was telling. “How many did you eat?”

“Only two. Mr. Huntley said I could, after he took four for his own breakfast and made me promise not to tell.”

Temperance lowered her lashes, twisting the white fillet ribbon around her finger in a show of conscience. A show, Lorena knew, because not a moment passed before Temperance’s frown curled into a grin.

“Oh, Lorena, it will be little bother for you. All of Duxboro knows how much you enjoy baking sweets. Of course, Mother is the house cook. She could easily prepare something, but you told her you wished to do the baking for dinner guests.”

Lorena had no argument, and with a roll of her eyes admitted, “Yes, yes. I did say that. Very well, Temperance. I had hoped to avoid the heat of the summer kitchen at midday, but I suppose I’ll have to change back into my work dress and bake a gingerbread.”

Temperance’s face dropped in disappointment. “Gingerbread? For a guest like Captain Talvis? Oh no, Lorena, your father would not be pleased. I suggest you make your chocolate custards.”

“Chocolate custards require a great deal of preparation. I have too much on my mind at present to bother with chocolate custards.” She started for the door before Drew got restless and came looking for her, but Temperance blocked her path.

“Lorena, I have come to tell you something more. I have come to advise you to choose your garments carefully this evening.”

“And why is that, pray tell?”

“Because the captain . . . Captain Talvis, that is . . . oh, his eyes, they’re beautifully . . . haunting. You will need to see for yourself to understand, but he bears quite a singular and striking appearance.”

Lorena was already haunted by a pair of eyes from earlier that morning; she had no interest in another’s. For a brief instant she regretted to think she’d never behold them again, and she was quite horrified to discover some obscure part of her maintained even the slightest interest in a second encounter with that arrogant stranger.

She shook it off, and as she brushed past, Temperance chimed in a little birdy voice as though expounding some great prophecy, “I suspect Captain Talvis will be capturing the attention of all the marriageable young ladies in Duxboro.”

“Hurrah for Captain Talvis and the unmarried ladies of Duxborotown. I am going to see about Drew.”

“You know, Lorena, at nineteen years of age, with no husband and no suitable prospect for one, you should pay more attention to a man like Captain Talvis,” Temperance called after her from the bedroom doorway. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and plan on marrying George. Have you? Changed your mind, that is?”

This was not a subject Lorena wished to discuss shouting across the hall, but neither could she let the question go unanswered. She spun around. “I seek a better future for myself than marriage to a man I do not love. But if you had your way, Temperance, you’d have me betrothed to every unattached fellow who strolls through our door.”

Temperance approached to brush a thick fall of gingery curls off Lorena’s shoulder. “No, not every fellow,” she said, “but why not a handsome, smart fellow like George? You did seem to favor him well enough once. Has he done something to displease you?” She picked at the pristine lace edging on one of Lorena’s short puffy sleeves, her voice dropping to a soft, wistful tone. “Or do you refuse George because he is sailing for England, and you would not wish to be separated from us?”

“Temperance, if ever in my foolish youth I imagined affection for George Louder, I can assure you, I have long since grown to feel otherwise. England, bah. Under no circumstance would I wish to abandon my family.” And then Lorena remembered to add, “And in referring to family, you know I include your mother and yourself?”

Words Temperance had been waiting to hear, for the corners of her mouth curled into her full cheeks, widening into a smile that fairly reached her ears.