Ransome's Crossing (6 page)

However, Charlotte had learned long ago that gossip could be hurtful, even when spoken only in fun. Though it pained her, she would tell Mr. Fairfax she did not want to hear it. William’s and Julia’s lives had almost been ruined by the gossip and rumors spread about them. No matter what Mrs. Fairfax had heard, Charlotte would not be party to its spreading further.

As soon as she rejoined Percy for the end of the number, she asked him about their country home and what one might expect to see and do there. The tactic worked to make him forget what he’d planned to tell her. Charlotte wished it were as easy for her to forget.

The next hour swirled away in a blur of handsome, attentive gentlemen and officers. After a rousing reel with Mr. St. Vincent, Charlotte turned off the dance floor for a respite—and came face-to-face with Ned Cochrane.

His cool gray eyes burned into hers. She dropped her gaze and bent her knees in a quick curtsey.

“Might I have the honor of the next dance, Miss Ransome?”

How could she? What if he then recognized her through her disguise next time they met at the dockyard? But as they would be on different ships, they would likely not see each other at all. “Yes, Lieutenant Cochrane. I would be delighted.”

Charlotte’s fingertips tingled when they came in contact with Ned’s, even though they both wore gloves. A few steps into the allemande, Charlotte had trouble catching her breath. Every time they separated, she felt cold and abandoned. And she could look nowhere but at Ned. His hair was too dark to be blond and too light to be brown. He had a scar in the middle of his forehead that broke up the lines when he raised his brows, the way a rock broke the flow of a stream. And though he was not as tall and lithe as Percy Fairfax, he seemed lighter on his feet, more graceful, no doubt from years of developing a keen sense of balance aboard ships.

The dance ended too soon. Had it not been for Penelope’s immediately claiming her and declaring the need for refreshment, Charlotte would have embarrassed herself by asking—begging—Lieutenant Cochrane for another dance…and another…

Penelope pulled her into a corner where a tall vase gave them some measure of privacy. “My dear girl, why did you not tell me?”

“Tell you?” Charlotte glanced around the vase, trying to see if Ned danced with someone else.

“That you are in love.”

Charlotte ducked back behind the vase. “How did you find out?”

Penelope laughed. “’Twas quite apparent to me. All it took was one look at your face and I knew. Though I heartily object—you can do so much better, my dear—I must applaud you for falling in love with such a handsome man, for all that he is a sailor.”

“A…sailor?” Relief weakened Charlotte’s knees. So Penelope did not know about Henry. Imagine. Thinking Charlotte was in love with Ned Cochrane. The very thought of the way his uniform hugged his fit form made her lungs smolder—something that had never happened at the thought of Henry Winchester.

But no. Henry waited for her in Jamaica. She loved Henry…didn’t she? “You are mistaken, Miss Fairfax. I am not in love with Lieutenant Cochrane.”

“Good. Because when you come to the country with us, there shall be gentlemen aplenty for you to choose from.” Penelope hooked her arm through Charlotte’s and led her toward the dining room.

In love with Ned Cochrane? Impossible. But her heart called her a liar.

W
illiam watched Charlotte and the Fairfax girl until they disappeared into another room. He still was not convinced the Fairfaxes were good companions for his sister, but as Mother and Julia countered all his objections with sound arguments as to the favorability and advantage to Charlotte the connection to the Fairfaxes provided, he kept his concerns to himself.

“Lady Dalrymple, you’ve returned.”

Julia’s voice brought William’s attention back to the conservatory. The dowager viscountess swept into the room like an admiral into a room full of midshipmen. Julia seemed to be the only woman in the room not flustered by the aristocrat’s presence.

“How is your daughter feeling?” Julia asked when Lady Dalrymple stopped beside her.

“She is well. Uncomfortable, but well.” The viscountess leaned closer to Julia. “I do not mind telling you, Mrs. Ransome, that I have gone against her wishes and contacted her husband to demand he come here and try to reconcile before the baby comes.”

“And if he does not come?”

The brow over Lady Dalrymple’s green eye arched. “He will come, even if I have to send my own men to London to fetch him.”

William, trying to appear disinterested in the women’s talk, allowed the slightest smile to touch his lips. There was something to be said about having the wealth and power a title brought when placed in the hands of someone like Lady Dalrymple, who wielded both well.

“There you are.” A shrill voice made Julia startle and Lady Dalrymple close her mismatched eyes. William gritted his teeth at the approach of Lady Fairfax.

“If you will excuse me.” Lady Dalrymple inclined her head to William, Julia, and the baroness, and then departed. Fortunate woman.

“I have been wanting to have a word with the two of you all evening. I have heard the most remarkable story and knew I must tell you right away.” The portly woman sidled up to Julia, taking up the place Lady Dalrymple had just vacated. The aroma of rotting flowers wafted over William and turned his stomach.

“My lady, I’m certain your story is quite interesting, however—”

“Sir Drake is out of debtor’s prison.”

It took all William’s strength to keep from staggering back from the verbal blow. Julia’s hand tightened around his arm, and she leaned heavily into his side.

“How…how is that possible?”

An almost maniacal gleam flickered to life in Lady Fairfax’s eyes. “My cousin in London informed me that a certain Lady Henrietta Stokesbury—a woman whose knighted husband died very wealthy, leaving everything to his childless widow—had been a favorite of your cousin’s during his time in Town. When she learned of his plight, she paid off his most pressing debts and got him released. The word is that they plan to marry almost immediately.”

“I pray my cousin will find…much joy in his new life.” Julia’s voice came out choked, as if she had a stone lodged in her throat.

“As well you should.” Lady Fairfax glanced around, and then she leaned forward as if to reveal a vast conspiracy to Julia. “I have it on good authority that not only is Lady Stokesbury’s reputation less than sterling, she is considered to be somewhat of a shrew. My cousin says it is this reason why the lady remains unmarried, though she has been on the hunt for a titled gentleman for many years.”

Against him, Julia’s body began to tremble. William removed her hand from the crook of his elbow and placed his arm around her waist to lend her additional support—physically and emotionally.

“Thank you for informing us, Lady Fairfax.”

The baroness gave a little squeak at William’s statement, as if heretofore unaware of his presence.

“If you will excuse us, I believe I promised my wife the next dance.” Though dancing was the last thing on his mind, he had to get her away from the baroness to somewhere quiet and private. He took Julia by the hand and led her across the ballroom, through the front hall, and up the stairs to the small sitting room in which they’d had tea the first afternoon after their wedding.

He used the candle he’d snatched from the sconce in the hall to light the tapers in the two candelabra on the mantel and brighten the room a little. Turning his back to the dark chasm of the fireplace, he clasped his hands behind his back and waited. Julia paced the other side of the room, one arm wrapped around her waist, one hand clamped over her mouth. The elaborate gold embroidery at the neck, high waist, and hem of her blue-gray gown sparkled in the flickering candlelight. The gold ribbon peeking through her hair made him want to remove it to release the mahogany curls so that they could tumble freely around her shoulders and back.

Closing his eyes, he schooled his thoughts. He would never be able to return to the ship tonight if he allowed himself to continue in that vein.

“All that time.” Julia’s voice came as if from a distance, drawing him back to the present.

He opened his eyes and looked about the room for her, finally seeing her before the windows at the opposite end. “All that time?”

She spun, her skirt flaring slightly, and threw her arms wide. “All that time he pursued me whilst knowing there was a woman in London who would be willing to pay his debts
and
marry him. He—and his mother and Aunt Hedwig—tried to ruin me. He tried to ruin my father in order to force me to marry him.” Her nose crinkled as if at a distasteful smell. “Why could he have not married this Lady Stokesbury and left me alone to live my life in peace? Why did he have to spoil everything?”

William clamped his teeth on the inside of his bottom lip to keep from reacting. Spoiled everything? While marrying Julia had not been his idea—not since he made the decision to walk away from her twelve years ago—he could not see how their marrying spoiled anything, with the exception of his own peace of mind.

“All I wanted was to go back to Jamaica, to manage Tierra Dulce. But they tried to take it away from me. For what? To pay his gambling debts?” Julia’s pitch rose, and she started pacing again. It took almost all of William’s strength to keep from mirroring her.

Julia stopped directly across the room from William and turned to face him. “They locked me in a room and were going to force me to write you a letter breaking off our engagement.” Her expression underwent a radical change—from fury to something akin to astonishment. “But if they had only known…”

He raised one brow in question. “Known what?”

She walked slowly toward him. “That threatening to take you away from me was the best way to ensure I would never capitulate to their demands.” She stopped directly before him, the hem of her dress brushing the toes of his shoes. “Because I would never have given you up. I have loved you, William Ransome, since I was ten years old, and I was not going to part ways with you again.”

The granite hardness that had settled in his chest melted away. He reached out and touched the ringlet that caressed her cheek, and then he bent to kiss her, cupping her jaw with his palm. Her arms encircled his waist, and he pulled her into an embrace, almost frightened at how much contentment he drew from her nearness.

“So are you sorry your relations’ actions led you to propose marriage to me?” With his cheek pressed to Julia’s forehead, William did not hide his smile.

She let out a long sigh, the tension palpably ebbing from her body. “Nay. I am not sorry that the mistake made a dozen years ago was finally put right.”

He squeezed her tighter until she let out a yelping laugh, and then he released his hold so he could look into the green eyes that had haunted
him since he was fifteen. “I cannot make up for the years we lost, but I promise I will do my utmost to make what years we have the happiest you have known.” He kissed her again to seal the vow.

After the several long moments it took for Julia’s eyes to focus on him again, she released another deep sigh. “We should return.”

“Aye, we should.” But he made no move to release her or leave the privacy of the sitting room.

“Susan and Collin will wonder where we are. Your mother, as well.”

“Aye, they will.” He ran his finger from her temple down the side of her face and along her jaw to her stubbornly pointed chin.

“Charlotte might need watching after.”

“Aye, she might.” However, William rested in the knowledge that his mother, Collin, and Susan would all look after Charlotte—and he could depend on Ned Cochrane to protect her from the puppies and macaronis who filled the ballroom if need be.

“Lady Dalrymple might be offended if we were to leave so early.” Julia’s eyes grew increasingly hazy.

“Nay. Lady Dalrymple would understand.”

Julia stared up at him for a long while. William leaned forward, ready to kiss her again.

“Do you think Sir Drake’s betrothed will pay the mortgage on Marchwood to stave off the foreclosure proceedings you’ve begun?”

Now it was William’s turn to sigh. Instead of kissing her, he dropped his head to press his forehead to hers. “I am leaving that in the very capable hands of Collin and his solicitor.” He straightened, disentangled himself from Julia’s arms, and began snuffing the candles he’d lit. “As the son of an earl, Collin knows so much more about estates and mortgages than I ever will. And with the preparations to sail in less than a week, I do not have time for it.”

Julia looked offended. “You should have let me know. I am well versed in financial matters such as these.”

He rested his hands on her shoulders, which had tensed again. “I know. But this is a legal entanglement that will continue long after
we have departed these shores. And Collin needed employment to keep his mind occupied now that he is no longer an officer in His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

The indignation left Julia’s expression. “I had not thought of that. Yes, it is good for Collin to have something to occupy his time.”

William opened the door and ushered his wife through.

“What do you think Collin will do now that he has left the navy?” She waited for him in the hallway and slipped her hand under his elbow when he joined her.

“Collin Yates will do what earls’ sons do best—become a gentleman of society and give dinners and balls and purchase a country estate, where he and Susan will give dinners and balls and raise their children.”

“You need not sound so appalled at the idea of a country estate, dear husband. Do not forget that you are now heir to one of the largest sugar plantations in the Caribbean. Does not that make you a gentleman of society and property?”

Heir to Sir Edward’s sugar plantation. William had not thought through the ramifications of that aspect of being married to Julia. His son, if he and Julia were blessed with a son, would be the first generation of Ransomes born with the expectation of an inheritance other than life consigned to the sea.

“Our sons will go to sea when they are old enough. I do not want them raised like overprivileged popinjays.”

Julia stopped; William nearly lost his balance on the step below. The single candle he carried did not give much light, but enough to define Julia’s frown. “Our sons?”

“If we have sons.”

“But to go to sea…all the dangers that could befall them there… my brother…”

“Yes, there are dangers. Even the risk of death. But there are also lessons to be learned about duty, loyalty, and honor that cannot be taught in a schoolroom or even on a plantation. My forebears have been sailors as far back as we have family records. I want my sons to follow in my family’s tradition.”

Julia’s frown increased.

“We do not need to decide the question tonight.” He smiled at her. “But in a year or so, when you give me my first son, we shall have this conversation again.”

Her lips twisted up at the corners, and her brows raised. “Your
first
son? How many do you intend me to give you?”

“Oh, a full compliment of lieutenants for a seventy-four, at least.”

“Six?”

“Aye. And then perhaps a daughter. After all, Collin and Susan’s son will have need of a wife.”

“If their child is a son.”

William knew his friend well. After twelve years of marriage and disappointment after disappointment, Collin claimed that he cared not whether the child Susan now carried was a son or daughter. But all Collin could talk about were the things he wanted to do with his son when he arrived. “Collin will have a son.”

Julia shook her head and started down the stairs again, pulling William with her. He had no desire to return to the gathering below, but he did so to please Julia. His wife. His beloved. The mother of the sons of whom, until now, he’d never allowed himself to dream.

She paused once more before leaving the stillness of the unused wing of the house. “What think you of Charlotte’s accompanying us to Jamaica as my companion?”

Charlotte—a lovely, unmarried seventeen-year-old—aboard a ship crewed by seven hundred sailors and marines for two months? He pressed his lips together while he conjured up an appropriate response. “I shall speak with my mother if you like, but I believe it would be better for my sister to remain in England. You yourself commented on the advantageous opportunity presented to her by the Fairfaxes’ invitation.”

Julia nodded. “Yes, you are correct. I am being selfish, wanting her with me so I can get to know her better.” With a sigh she said, “We had best return before someone comes looking for us.”