Authors: Kaye Dacus
The resigned tone of Collin’s voice forged a deep foreboding in William’s mind. With great effort, he remained silent, but he wanted to beg his friend to stop talking.
“I am resigning my commission.” Collin straightened and looked at William.
“I see.” Regret coursed through William, but he composed his expression with imperturbable detachment. He wished he could say he understood or that if he were in the same circumstance, he would come to the same decision. “And you are certain this is the course of action you wish to take?”
“Aye. Susan and I have spent many hours in prayer, and I am confident this is the right path.” His eyes flickered as he searched William’s face. “I would like for you to go with me to see Admiral Glover tomorrow”
“Of course I will go with you.” William tried to infuse concurrence in his voice, but inside he railed against the injustice of the situation. Aside from keeping his ship and crew, William had most anticipated once again being stationed with Collin—something they had not enjoyed since midshipmen aboard
Indomitable
. His heart ached for the loss of his friend.
“Are you angry?”
“No, not angry. Disappointed.”
Collin nodded. “I, as well. My heart and mind have been nearly split asunder with the agony of this choice. But I have had my adventure and made my fortune; I have fought many battles and seen most of the world. The war is blessedly over. My resignation will make room for another captain to have a ship. I need to attend to my family, and to do so, I must be here, not out at sea.” He stood.
William rose and clasped hands with him. “I shall see you through this—and I know I will have the opportunity to see you whenever the Royal Navy calls me back to England. We shan’t have to wonder when our paths will cross again as we have these last ten years.”
“Thank you, William. We would have had great sport, chasing pirates throughout the tropics. I am depending on you to write often with the details of your exploits. And once the child is safely arrived, Susan and I will come to Jamaica to visit you and Julia—and soon, too, so the child can be christened, and you and Julia named the god-parents.”
“I would be honored. I know Julia will also, as she and Susan are thick as thieves.”
“And a few years from now, perhaps we can come to an agreement on marriage articles between our son and your daughter—or your son and our daughter.” Light rekindled in Collin’s eyes. “Come now, Susan will be wondering why I have not yet come up to dress—as if it takes more than a few minutes!”
William laughed as warranted, but following Collin up the stairs, he allowed the humor to slide from his expression.
You and Julia.
Collin had twined the words together as if one unit. A verse from the book of Genesis burst into William’s mind.
Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.
He smiled at Collin at the second floor landing—hoping it looked more like amusement than discomfort—and continued to his quarters.
Charlotte’s yelp startled him when he opened the door. She pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, William. You scared me.”
“I apologize—I did not expect you to be in my room.” He raised his brows in question.
She motioned toward the desk. “I was just leaving your mail for you. I forgot about it when I came in earlier—Susan had a visitor, and she wished to introduce me.”
“Ah.” He started unbuttoning his uniform coat. “Thank you.”
She grinned and pulled on his arm until he leaned down enough so she could kiss his cheek. “I cannot believe tonight is here. You and Julia are truly to leave soon.”
“Aye, a fortnight for fitting out a ship is hardly any time at all.”
“May I come to the dockyard tomorrow and see your ship?”
“I do not think that is a good idea. I will not have time to show you around, and everything will be in a state of confusion.”
“Saturday, then?” Her tone was so hopeful, he could hardly bear it.
“We shall see.” He shooed her out of the room. “Go and get yourself ready for dinner—you have only a little more than an hour.”
His sister laughed. “You do realize it does not take that long to get dressed-some women must take a few hours because they cannot decide upon which dress to wear or how they want their hair arranged.” She fluttered out the door.
William leaned against it, letting his head fall back until it made contact with the wood.
You and julia... one flesh...leave his father and his mother; and shall cleave unto his wife..
.Or leave his ship and the only family he had ever known.
Pain ground into his soul like grain crushed with a mortar and pestle. He wanted to follow God in all things, wanted his life to be a reflection of God’s saving grace to his men. Yet in this instance, he railed against the responsibility God laid forth for a husband-to leave everything he loved for his wife.
Collin loved Susan; he had since the moment he first saw her. For twelve years, they cultivated and nurtured their love. The difficulty of separation, the tribulation of war, the agony of being unable to have children all acted as a forge, refining them into that
one flesh.
Anxiety held William in its grip until he had only one course of action.
Almighty God, show me how to obey you in all your commands.
Show me how to be
a
godly husband. Teach me to love Julia
as
Collin loves
Susan.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
T
hank you, Creighton.” Julia reached up and settled the gossamer wrap about her shoulders. She took one last look at herself in the mirror. The dress she’d worn the night of her father’s dinner party glowed golden and bronze in the light streaming in through the narrow windows surrounding the front door.
She shook her head, setting the curls clustered about her temples and ears to bouncing. “I should not have chosen this dress. They will think I have too high an opinion of myself and will dislike me.”
“Now, miss, you look lovely, and they will take it that you are honoring them by dressing so fine.” Horses’ hooves clopped to a stop outside. “Here’s the carriage for you, so let’s hear no more about it. They will admire and esteem you as everyone else who knows you does.” Creighton cast his gaze up toward the first floor. “Well, almost everyone.”
“Cheeky!” Julia clicked her tongue.
Smiling, Creighton opened the door for her.
She stepped forward but then hastily retreated. An enormous man dressed in a livid green coat with a wild shock of brown hair blocked her exit.
Creighton stepped between them. “May I help you?” Julia had always thought Creighton a tall man—taller by several inches than her father—yet compared to the man he faced, he looked like a young boy.
“Evenin’.” The man touched the rim of his tan hat. “This the residence of Admiral Witherington?”
“It is. He is not receiving callers today.”
“Ain’t here for no call, laddie. I been told around town a lady’s staying here wot’s related to a gennelmun I got business with.” He eyed Julia over Creighton’s shoulder.
Creighton shifted to try to block his view. “Lady Pembroke is also not receiving callers.”
“Wot ’bout the pretty?” The man jerked his bulbous chin toward Julia. “She accepting callers?”
She stepped forward. “What is your business here, sir?”
The man looked over his shoulder as the Yateses’ barouche pulled to a stop behind his high-flyer gig at the front gate. He spat on the step before turning back to them.
Julia grabbed Creighton’s elbow to keep him from exploding at the man.
“I come to see if a certain
Sir
Drake Pembroke—” he sneered the title—“is here. I been watching the comings and goings at his house and ain’t seen hide nor hair of him. Thought per’aps he might’ve come to stay with his relations, seeing as his losses been piling up mighty heavy in recent days.”
Disgusted, Julia let go of Creighton’s arm and inched around him. “How much does he owe you?”
“Not me, miss, my employer is the one he’s owing. You see, the dandy baronet took out a mortgage on that fancy house o’ his in the country—and most of the land and mills, as well—for the tidy sum of twenty thousand pounds. Up till recent, he’s barely been paying the interest, see?”
A sick knot twisted Julia’s stomach. No wonder he was so anxious to get his hands on her legacy. “He is not here. I have not seen him since Tuesday afternoon.”
Green Coat took a card from his pocket. Creighton snatched it before the man could get his hand near Julia. The ruffian laughed. “If you see ‘im afore I do, tell ’im if he don’t pay in full by Monday—being the fifteenth—my boss will call in the note on that fine, big estate and sell it for a pretty profit, I don’t mind to say. Tell ‘im my boss is tired of waiting, and if Pembroke can’t come up with the twenty thousand for the note and the five thousand for the interest, my boss will see him put in jail. G’day to you now.”
“Insolent blackguard!” Creighton hissed, watching the debt collector swagger down the walk to the gig.
Julia wrapped the shawl tightly around her, suddenly chilled. Papa told her Sir Drake had mortgaged the estate, but she could not fathom so great a debt—nor why he would continue to compound it.
“Come, miss, you’d best be off” Creighton escorted her to the barouche where the Yateses’ stable boy sat watching the gig drive away, fear clear in his eyes.
Creighton handed her up. “I know it is not my place to tell you what you ought to do, miss. But you should get Captain Ransome to see you home tonight. I do not feel easy about this man, that he will just leave things be.”
“I share your concern, Creighton, and I was already thinking along those lines.”
The butler nodded. “Drive on,” he said to the young man in the box.
Twenty-five thousand pounds! More than most people saw in a lifetime. Yes, she and her father could spare the amount without straitening or retrenching much of their own lifestyle and without causing irreparable injury to their fortune. But this was only one collector—there must be more.
To lose her mother’s ancestral home to creditors! What if she purchased the note on Marchwood from this money changer?
Julia checked her thoughts. She did not have nearly that much in her personal account, and she would not take the money from her father’s nor the plantation’s accounts. If only her dowry were not promised to William.
Had he ever considered purchasing an estate in England?
“William, do stop pacing. You are going to wear out that beautiful rug Collin brought back from India.”
He did as Susan bade, moving to stand in front of the fireplace, feet braced, hands clasped behind his back. Julia said she would be here at five thirty—the hands on the clock stood at almost five forty-five. Finally, just as it began its quarterly chime, footsteps sounded on the stairs. He arrived at the parlor door as it opened. Julia, white-faced and grave, entered and thanked Dawling.
Concern replaced William’s former annoyance. “Has something happened? Your aunt or your cousin—have they...?”
She shook her head and took his proffered arm. “No. They have done nothing—other than Lady Pembroke insulting me, you, my father, the Royal Navy, and everyone connected with it.”
“Julia! At last.” Susan swept toward them.
“I shall speak to you of it after dinner,” Julia whispered.
Though displeased with her answer, William had no choice but to relinquish her to Susan when Dawling reappeared at the door. “Sir, might I have a word?”
Frowning, William joined him. “What is it?”
“Ben—the driver—says he saw an unsavory character at the Witheringtons’ front door talking with Miss Witherington when he went to fetch her. Said looked to him like he was not welcome.”
Disgruntled with this news—something had happened and she did not immediately tell him?—William thanked Dawling and sent him back to man the front door with Fawkes. His vexation must have shown in his expression, for when he returned to Julia’s side, her brows knitted together and worry filled her eyes.
He took a calming breath and relaxed his face and stance. She had said she would speak to him after dinner of whatever had happened. He would let her have her way—for now.
At the top of the hour, the six lieutenants arrived and were shown up to the front parlor by a beaming Dawling—who seemed to lack nothing but his own uniform to complete his joy.
As the door closed behind the steward, the lieutenants lined up by seniority. William offered his arm to Julia to convey her to the other side of the room and was surprised to feel her hand trembling when she rested it in the crook of his elbow. Her disquiet served to ease his.
He stopped before them. “Miss Julia Witherington, may I present the officers of His Majesty’s Ship
Alexandra.”
She curtseyed low, as if being presented to royalty. “I am honored to meet you, and I look forward to knowing you better in the coming weeks.”
Cochrane’s smile nearly reached both ears. “First Lieutenant Ned Cochrane, Miss Witherington. And may I say what joy you are bringing to our crew, to see our captain happily settled with a wife?”
Over Julia’s head, William scowled at him; Cochrane’s smile broadened.
“Patrick O’Rourke. Blessings be on you and the captain, Miss Witherington.”
“Angus Campbell. I wish you joy, Miss Witherington—and the captain.” The third lieutenant gave William a furtive glance.
“Horatio Eastwick, miss. It is a great honor to meet the daughter of Admiral Sir Edward Witherington. I had the privilege of serving under him on
Indomitable
when I was just a midshipman.” William’s fourth lieutenant had come to him on recommendation from Sir Edward.
“Eamon Jackson, miss, but everybody calls me Jack.” The winning smile Jackson gave Julia made him a favorite of any woman he chanced upon.
At the end of the row, the sixth and youngest lieutenant blushed to the roots of his curly blond hair—which was in need of cutting. The lad shifted nervously from foot to foot. “R-Robert Blakeley. It’s a great honor, Miss Witherington.”
Julia smiled at the most junior officer, and he nearly toppled over. William swallowed his amusement. No need to embarrass him more. He introduced the officers to the others, and they all went downstairs to dinner.
At the table, Julia sat between Cochrane and O’Rourke, but all the lieutenants soon followed Ned’s example of telling embellished tales of their adventures at sea—many of which William questioned to himself based on his own recollection of the events. They listened with rapt attention and interest when she spoke of her life on the plantation.
Was it his imagination, or did Charlotte laugh a little more at Cochrane’s stories, affix her gaze on him longer? Wonderful-now William had his sister’s romantic sensibilities to add to his troubles. While in person, manner, beliefs, and address, he could not object to Ned as a suitor for Charlotte, the difference in their fortunes was substantial. Although Ned had garnered a large share
of Alexandra’s
prize money over the years he’d served on her-and the total was significant—nearly all of his earnings had gone to support his mother and provide a dowry for his sister.
Although in that light, Ned presented the ideal candidate as a suitor-he had always put his family obligations before his own personal desires. And with the task of hunting pirates set before them, the potential for much more prize money was great—practically guaranteed.
But no firm date had been given for their return to England. They could be gone for years-what hope would they have of ever being reunited?
He supposed he could send for Charlotte-and their mother, of course-to come out next year and stay with Julia at Tierra Dulce He could arrange for leave.
What was he thinking? Ned and Charlotte were strangers—she a pretty girl and Ned a man women fawned over. Naturally, they would show some initial attraction toward each other, but when the first blush wore off—or when Ned met another pretty girl-it would soon be forgotten.
He shook off his sobering thoughts and looked across the table at Julia. Although quiet and more serious than usual, she took part in the conversations around her, laughed when expected, and in general, impressed and delighted all six lieutenants. By the time Susan rose to invite the ladies to join her in the parlor for coffee, even Blakeley vied for her attention with softly spoken stories of his experiences at sea.
William rose with the men as the women departed the dining room.
“We shall be up shortly, my dear.” Collin walked to the door with Susan and bent to receive a kiss on the cheek.
She ran a finger along his embellished epaulette and tapped the crown-and-anchor insignia on it that marked Collin’s years of service. “No need to hurry. I am certain your toasts need saying and,” she winked at William, “you have other matters to discuss.”
Collin closed the door behind her and looked about the room in surprise. “What are you all still doing on your feet? Sit. Relax.”
All six lieutenants glanced at William. “They stand because their superior officer and host is still on his feet, Captain Yates.”
“Tosh. On
Auspicious
, we are not so formal among our fellow officers.” He motioned for Fawkes and Dawling to refill the glasses.
William nodded at Cochrane, and the lieutenants all took their seats again as Collin returned to his place at the head of the table. After observing the traditional toasts, Collin raised his glass once more.
“Gentlemen, to Captain William Ransome. My best friend since we were first posted together as lads more than a score of years ago. May God bless him in all his endeavors. May he have fair winds at his stern and open seas at his bow. May his ship never fail him and his crew always support him. And may he always—
always—
return home to those who love him. To William.”
William nearly choked on the hearty lump in his throat.
His officers raised their glasses. “Captain Ransome.”
He lifted his in salute and pretended to drink, not daring to look at Collin, knowing he would not be able to repress his disconsolation at losing his friend if he did. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he got the weather gauge on his inner turmoil and raised his glass again.
“Gentlemen, our host, Captain Collin Yates. The truest friend any man could ever hope for. May the friendship, kindness, brotherhood, love, and loyalty he has always given me follow him throughout his life. May he always have comfort and happiness at home and adventures and fortuity abroad. And may he discover the greatest joy of all in the arrival of his first child—and may God bless him with many more to follow. To Collin.” Seeing Collin in the same extreme distress to hide his feelings cheered William a bit.