Ransome's Crossing (31 page)

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Authors: Kaye Dacus

BOOK: Ransome's Crossing
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The set of the young woman’s shoulders and the exasperation around her mouth reminded Julia far too much of herself at the same age, but she attended Julia without protest.

“Mrs. Ransome, before you go, might I have a private word with Miss Ransome?” Ned’s gray eyes pled with her.

“Of course you may.” Charlotte’s countenance glowed in the dim light.

Julia clamped her teeth together and gave them a tight smile. That they loved each other was obvious. But she despaired of any hope for their future together.

“I shall await you outside, Charlotte.” Julia looked between the two of them once again before exiting the sick berth.

Charlotte turned to put the game away, trying to control the
fluttering in her belly. She should not have come down here, should not have spent so much time with Ned alone already. Coming to care for him even more deeply would only make it harder when she had to part with him in three days’ time.

Her heart leapt when his hand closed over hers, stopping her from returning the game pieces to their holder.

“Miss Ransome…Charlotte…”

She turned and looked into his face, and her heart was utterly and completely lost. In this moment, there was no angry older brother, no fiancé waiting in Jamaica. There was only Charlotte and Ned. “Yes, Ned?”

“I will never be able to offer you wealth or a grand home or titles and land. But what I have, I wish to offer to you: I offer you my heart. It is fully yours, if you want it. Will you marry me?”

Happiness crashed against her with more force than a storm surge—only to rush out again as quickly and leave a void of despair.

Ned must have seen the change in her expression, as his own changed to reflect it. He released her hand. “I knew better than to hope you might return my affection. I beg your forgiveness if I have caused you any pain or inconvenience.”

She grabbed his hand to keep him from turning away from her. “No, you do not understand. I want to marry you. I do.” Her heart ached at the joy that flickered back to life in his beautiful eyes. “But I cannot.”

“If it is a matter of money, I am willing to wait if you are. I plan to tell the commodore I no longer wish to resign my commission. I will work, long and hard, to accumulate enough money so that I can provide a comfortable life for you.”

She smiled to stave off the tears that wished to flow. “It is not money that is the problem—there is the legacy my brothers have set aside for me. I know ten thousand pounds is not a vast fortune, but it is enough for a comfortable life—”

“If it is your brother, I will work just as long and hard to earn his approval and blessing, no matter how long it takes.”

“Nay, it is not William or any of my family who stands in my way of accepting your proposal—”

“Then I do not understand—”

She touched her fingertips to his lips. If he continued to provide arguments in favor of the match, she might never say what needed saying. “Ned, I cannot marry you because I am already engaged. That is why I became a midshipman. To travel to Jamaica and get married.”

“Engaged?” Ned staggered back and sank onto his chair. “Engaged? But why, then, were you traveling illicitly?”

Charlotte crossed her arms, her stomach aching. “Because my family did not know. I intended to tell them after Henry and I were married. I never expected…” She looked at him and hot tears burned down her cheeks. “I never expected I would fall in love with someone else along the way.”

Ned raised his eyes to meet hers, and then he stood and took her hands in his. “If you do not love him, you cannot marry him. Your family has not approved the match. Therefore, you cannot be held legally bound to him.”

Though it was the last thing she wanted to do, Charlotte pulled her hands free and stepped back from him. “But I am bound to him by a promise. And I would not be someone worthy of your love if I were to break my word to him. I have not seen him in almost two years.” She swallowed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I know now that I never truly loved him. But if he loves me and still wants me, I will stay true to my promise and marry him.”

“Even if it means you will be trapped in a marriage with someone you do not love for the remainder of your life?” Ned seemed to fold in on himself as the strength of Charlotte’s resolve registered in his mind.

“Aye. Because that is the honorable thing to do.” Even though it would break her heart.

J
ulia awoke before the sun. She managed to rise without disturbing William, and she dressed quietly so as not to wake Charlotte. She took William’s telescope from his desk and slipped out of the cabin. She made a conspiratorial gesture to Master Ingleby at the wheel and Lieutenant O’Rourke and made her way to the starboard side of the quarterdeck, skirting around the men who knelt on the deck scrubbing it with holystones.

Standing beside the railing to gain the best vantage, she raised the scope to her eye.

Jamaica.

Home.

Heart racing, she scanned side to side, drinking in the sight of the island only a few hours’ distance from them. Before the sun set, her feet would once again be on her beloved home soil. She hoped the letter she posted before her marriage had arrived. For if Jerusha and Jeremiah knew she was coming and they heard English ships had been sighted, they might even now be on their way to Kingston to meet her.

Lowering the glass, the island disappeared into a shrouded mystery—the dim, predawn light giving no differentiation between the water and the dark green of the land.

“I have asked you to stay out of sight for your own protection.” William’s breath tickled the side of her neck. But when she looked over her shoulder, he wore a smile. “My glass.”

She placed the heavy scope in the hand he held out before her. “How long will it be before we dock?”

William, still standing behind her, raised the telescope and examined the island. “We will dock by noon. I must go ashore at Port Royal and confer with the commander at Fort Charles—to pass on Admiral Witherington’s orders, turn over command of the convoy ships, and discuss the transfer of command. Tomorrow, we will take the ship’s boat to Kingston.”

“Tomorrow?” She tried to swallow her disappointment, but it rose anyway.

He squeezed her shoulder. “Tomorrow. As long as everything goes well at Fort Charles this afternoon.”

“If it does not, I will come ashore to smooth it myself.” She turned and tilted her head back to look up into her husband’s face. “Tomorrow. I have your word?”

“If you would like to send word ahead to Tierra Dulce, I will have a messenger sent from Fort Charles as soon as I arrive.”

All was not lost! “Yes. I would like that. Thank you.” She bounced up onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, William.”

She rushed back to the cabin, already composing the note in her head.

Charlotte let out a startled squeak, and her hammock swung wildly when Julia entered. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She jumped out of the hammock as if the all-hands signal had been sounded.

“Nothing. I am sorry. I did not mean to wake you.” She smiled at her sister-in-law. “We are within sight of Jamaica.”

Charlotte’s face reflected none of Julia’s excitement. “Oh, I see.” She turned to take down the hammock, which she folded, rolled, and stuffed into her sea chest.

Julia did not allow the girl’s sour mood to affect her own. Humming, she sat at her desk and withdrew her stationery box, ink, and quill.

The quick note to Jerusha to inform her of their arrival became a three-page letter. After dressing, Charlotte sat on the window seat, staring out at the waters behind them—as she had done for the past
three days since the last time Julia had retrieved her from the sick berth. She had not pressed the girl for details of her private conversation with Ned, but she had a fair idea of what had been asked by one party and how the other had answered.

After addressing and sealing the letter, she rose to take it to William on deck—but stopped. As they would not dock for several hours more, she did not need to hand it over yet. He had already seen her disappointment once this morning. She did not need to compound it by showing herself overeager to leave his ship and remind him they would soon part ways.

She sank into her chair again. Once he saw her safely home to Tierra Dulce, William would return to
Alexandra
and to the duty her father had set for him. She barely roused when Dawling knocked on the door to announce breakfast.

At table, she longed for an excuse to brush her hand against William’s, to fill Dawling’s role in serving him, to coddle and pamper him. She had spent far too much time on this voyage avoiding him and keeping secrets from him. Precious, precious time she would never regain. Wasted time she would regret as soon as they made their farewells at Tierra Dulce.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She would not do that to him. She would not show him her tears, not like her mother. If her heart broke, she would never let him know, never send him away with the burden of her sorrow.

“As we are in range of the ships that guard the perimeter of the harbor, it is safe for you to return to the deck. I can have Dawling carry chairs to the poop for you both, if you would like.” William set his fork down and picked up his coffee cup.

The thought of watching as they drew closer to her home overrode her melancholy over their future parting. “I would like that. Thank you, William.” She glanced across the table at Charlotte. “Will you join me?”

William’s sister tried to muster a smile. “Yes. I would like that as well.” The forced smile twisted into a wry grin. “I could be of help
in the shrouds, directing the men on the foremast…” She gave her brother a sidelong glance.

William raised his eyes to the ceiling, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying him. “Why am I plagued with stubborn, hard-headed women who will not learn their place?”

Julia exchanged a smile with Charlotte, glad to see genuine amusement in the young woman’s face for the first time in days. If William would agree to her request and allow Charlotte to stay with her at Tierra Dulce for a year—after they convinced her she could not marry Winchester, of course—Julia believed she and Charlotte could be a balm for each other’s broken hearts.

The anchor hit the water with a crash; the thick rope groaned as it lowered its burden into water the same color blue as Charlotte Ransome’s eyes.

Ned turned away from the sight and tried to stop imagining that the anchor carried his heart with it to the harbor floor. William had granted his last request, and as soon as they made port, Ned would return to
Audacious
and resume command. William had also stated that he had written a letter to Admiral Witherington recommending Ned be confirmed to the rank of post captain with
Audacious
as his command.

The blessing in such a scheme was that
Audacious
would stay on Jamaica station, under William’s overall command, while Charlotte would be returned to England. At least, he assumed that was what William intended to do with her. Surely he would not allow her to go through with her intended marriage. The cog in the wheel was William’s insistence that Ned accompany them to Kingston—and then on to Tierra Dulce—tomorrow.

The idea that he might meet Charlotte’s supposed intended, and that he might, through comparison of himself to this other man, convince Charlotte not to marry him, gave him a flicker of hope. But he quickly snuffed it.

She was lost to him. Either she married her intended, despite her family’s objections, or she returned to England and married a wealthy merchant or perhaps even a baronet or son of a noble.

Though he had not quarters of his own on
Alexandra,
the other lieutenants had made him quite welcome in the wardroom once again. He headed aft, speaking to sailors and midshipmen he had known for many years, but this ship no longer felt like home. He missed
Audacious.
His brief return today to pack a bag to take to Tierra Dulce would not be long enough.

“Captain Cochrane.” Julia Ransome stepped out from under the shade of the wheelhouse. “I hoped I would find you. Would you join us for supper this evening? It is to be my last supper aboard
Alexandra,
and I would so enjoy your company.”

How could he decline when she put it in such terms—and when he had no logical excuse to say no? “It would be my honor, Mrs. Ransome.”

“William told me you are to join us when we journey from Kingston to Tierra Dulce and stay for a few days. No—no protests. Commodore’s orders. I cannot wait to show you the hospitality my home is famous for.”

He did not want to disappoint her, but he would again try to convince William he would be better used staying with the ships while William made the journey to the plantation. “Thank you for the kind invitation, Mrs. Ransome.”

She nodded. “I see the boat is ready to take you to
Audacious,
so I will keep you no longer. I simply wanted to secure you for supper tonight.”

He inclined his head and turned to leave. Movement on the poop deck steps stopped him.

Charlotte paused on the bottom step. A straw bonnet with blue lining that, along with the sky and ocean, only served to sear the aspect of her eyes even deeper into his soul, hid her short hair. He had become so accustomed to seeing her this way, with the short hair emphasizing the height of her cheekbones, the delicate curve of her
neck and shoulders, that he could not remember what she looked like with long hair.

He made a semblance of a bow. “Miss Charlotte.”

She took the last step down to the deck and bent her knees in a slight curtsey. “Captain Cochrane. Congratulations. I understand the commodore is recommending you for promotion to post captain.”

“Yes. Thank you.” He touched the forepoint of his hat. “Good day.”

Before Charlotte could respond, he turned on his heel and quickly marched to the waist entry port. At the last moment, as he descended down the side of the ship, he took one last look.

She was gone.

William gritted his teeth, reminding himself Admiral Lord Horatio Nelson once served as commander of Fort Henry in his younger years. But in Nelson’s day, the command post for the Royal Navy’s activities in this part of the Caribbean must have been much more organized and efficient.

He finally established his identity and the authenticity of Admiral Witherington’s orders and had the cargo ships’ bills of lading stamped as approved, legal goods to be unloaded and stored in the Royal Navy warehouse in Kingston for supply of the Caribbean fleet.

Although his duties would keep him at sea most of the time once he took command of the Jamaica squadron, he would see to it that many policies and procedures at the fort would change when he returned in a fortnight.

He pulled the sailors away from the fascinations the foreign port—though staffed by British officers and sailors—afforded. The sun had almost fully set by the time they reached
Alexandra.
He gave orders to beat to quarters for inspection as soon as his feet touched the deck, annoyed O’Rourke had not done so in his absence. Ned would have seen to it.

As the men scurried to their battle stations, William reminded O’Rourke of his responsibilities as first officer and then made his rounds.

He dismissed the men and informed O’Rourke that he would have command of the ship from tomorrow morning until William returned from Tierra Dulce.

Over supper he told an excited Julia and a subdued Charlotte and Ned about his experience at Fort Henry. When none seemed to take in what he said about the lack of organization and the near disdain with which the commander had treated him, he quitted the topic. It did not take any coaxing beyond a simple question to get Julia to talk about Tierra Dulce, which she did for the next hour.

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