Ransome's Quest (5 page)

“You asked to see me, ma’am?”

For a moment, standing there staring out at the water, she thought she could almost feel the roll and pitch of the waves under her feet. But, no. William’s place was at sea; hers was at Tierra Dulce. Julia turned and walked back to the chair behind the large ornate desk.

“Please be seated, Mr. Winchester.” She motioned him toward one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. “As I am certain you are aware, Jeremiah sent me the second copy of each of the plantation’s ledgers. Over the past few months, I have taken the time to review each ledger line by line. I grew concerned when I discovered discrepancies in the arithmetic in one of the ledgers particularly.”

Julia watched the steward closely, trying to catch any hint in his expression to confirm her suspicions that the discrepancies were not mere miscalculations, but rather the purposeful action of a person of ill intent.

However, Henry Winchester betrayed no guilt or panic over having been found out. “Discrepancies, you say? I do not see how that can be possible. I check through my calculations scrupulously. Did Sir Edward find the same discrepancies?”

If he meant to insult her by hinting the problem lay not in his faulty ledgers but in her mathematics skills, he succeeded. But rather than give in to the quick temper she inherited from her father, she chose instead to imitate her husband’s unflappable calmness. “My father did not need to review the ledgers for himself. That is a task he has trusted me to do for the past ten years.”

Winchester splayed his hands before him in a gesture of supplication. “I assure you, ma’am, if any errors are in the accounting, they happened purely by mistake. I will look into the matter as soon as time allows.”

Julia allowed her brows to rise as the only expression of her surprise. “As soon as time allows? Pray tell, what could be more urgent than the accurate reporting of the plantation’s income and debt? I must insist this issue be addressed immediately.”

Winchester’s jaw worked back and forth as if grinding unsavory words between his teeth. Julia shifted in her chair to mask her shudder of revulsion. That he was a handsome man, she could not deny. So had been her cousin Drake Pembroke. The two men were cut from the same unsavory cloth. What had she seen in Henry Winchester to convince her to hire him? Worse yet, what had Charlotte seen in him to make her not only agree to a secret engagement, but also disguise herself as a boy and sign on to
Audacious
as a midshipman to come to Jamaica to marry him without her family’s knowledge or approval?

“It will take a few days for me to gather the required documents for an audit of the ledgers,” Winchester said.

Today being Thursday, with calls to make and receive tomorrow and Saturday, and church Sunday, Julia knew she would not be able to get back to town to visit her banker and solicitor before Monday, and she needed time to review the most recent account records too. “Very well. We shall meet again in one week—Thursday next—to audit the ledgers.”

Winchester did not hide his relief adequately. “I shall inform Jeremiah to turn over his books—”

“Jeremiah will be joining us. Three sets of eyes are better than two for uncovering any errors or oversights.”

The steward inclined his head, but not soon enough to keep her from seeing the glint of resentment in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Please bring me the current books so I can review them before we meet.”

His jaw started the grinding motion again. “Yes, ma’am. Is that all, ma’am?”

With what remained of her waning strength and energy, Julia did her best to appear relaxed and unconcerned. But she was not. “Mr. Winchester, I want to assure you Commodore Ransome will do whatever he must to bring Charlotte home safely.”

Winchester’s long, straight nose wrinkled and he muttered something.

She sat forward. “I am sorry. I did not hear you clearly.”

“I am certain the Ransome family will be happy to have her returned. But I…well, all I can say is I am gratified she broke our engagement before she was taken and her reputation—and virtue—ruined.” He snorted. “As if I would have married her after the manner of her coming here. Living among sailors, doing everything she could to assure her reputation would be in tatters long before she revealed her secret engagement to her family.”

Julia stood and pressed her fists against the desktop, leaning toward him. “You will say no more to impugn the reputation of my sister.” She took a steadying breath. “You have one week to gather all of the necessary documents for the audit. Once the audit has been completed, you will be advanced two months’ pay and provided transportation into town. Your services will no longer be required at Tierra Dulce.”

This time Winchester did not bother to hide his disdain. “As if I would stay at a plantation run by a
woman.”

“Jeremiah.” Julia spoke the name in a tone raised only a little above normal.

The plantation overseer entered through the side door. “Yes, Mrs. Ransome?”

“Please assist Mr. Winchester in gathering everything necessary for a full audit of the ledgers. You will supervise his work for the remainder of the time he is here.”

Winchester shot from his chair. “You’re going to put a ni—”

“You will keep a civil tongue as long as you are on my property, Mr. Winchester.” The fury that gurgled in her stomach reminded her she was her father’s daughter through and through. She struggled to maintain a calm facade. “Jeremiah, please escort this man from my sight.”

“Yes, Mrs. Ransome.” Jeremiah’s dark eyes twinkled, but Julia was not in the mood to respond to his ever-present good humor. He ushered Winchester out the main door of the room, closing it behind them.

Too furious to sit and return to her work, Julia paced the room. But it was too confining; the remnants of Winchester’s foul insinuations lingered in the air.

She flung the door open and left the office building to return to the house. A young man with brown hair that appeared the same texture as lamb’s wool turned when she stepped out onto the stoop, a musket cradled in his arms.

He touched the wide brim of his hat. “Ma’am. Mr. Goodland said I was to escort you to the house.”

Jeremiah would follow William’s instructions to the letter. “Thank you. I appreciate your effort to keep everyone here safe.”

Rather than walk beside her, he trailed a few paces behind. She felt like a prisoner being marched to the gallows at gunpoint. When she reached the steps to the porch, she turned and thanked him again.

He touched his hat and returned to the office building. Julia shook her head. She’d best get used to it. Jeremiah would ensure she never went anywhere alone until William returned.

The man standing guard at the entrance leading into the bedroom-wing of the house inclined his head as she walked past him through the open door.

So many new faces she did not recognize. But she had time to learn their names and get to know them now she was home for good.

Without realizing it she passed the bedroom she had taken for William and herself and found herself standing before the closed door to another chamber. She pushed the door open and walked in.

Everything about the room was just as she remembered it. The quilt on the bed—handmade by the women of Tierra Dulce. A book of poetry lay on the seat of the tall-backed wooden chair beside the bed, a ribbon marking the last page read. A white lawn dressing gown was draped like a sleeping ghost across the chaise near the fireplace. And on the dressing table, a stack of folded handkerchiefs with sprigs of dried lavender between them.

Julia picked up the top handkerchief and held it to her nose, breathing deeply. Tears swam in her eyes. The only thing different about this room was her mother’s absence. She crossed to the chair beside the bed and, after picking up the book, sank onto the hard seat.

Here she’d sat, morning and evening, those long, terrible weeks as her mother’s health had declined. Not even the promise of Papa’s imminent arrival had given her enough strength to hold on. If only he’d arrived on schedule, he would have been able to say goodbye instead of arriving in port to the news his wife had passed away two days before.

She reached out and touched the place where her mother had lain. “Mama, please forgive me,” she whispered. “I did not understand you, did not understand the powerful hold love holds over a woman when her husband is gone. I resented you for loving him more than you loved me, but I would do anything if I could have only a few minutes with you again, to tell you how much I love you and miss you.”

Leaning forward, she rested her cheek on the quilt, dabbing her tears with her mother’s lavender-scented handkerchief.
Almighty God, please keep William safe.

She startled out of slumber at a touch on her shoulder. Sitting up, she regretted having fallen asleep leaning over in such a manner. Her back protested, and pain shot down the side of her neck when she straightened it.

“Jerusha?”

The older woman pushed Julia’s flattened curls back from her face. “I came to find you for tea. When I saw the door open to this room, I knew you must be in here.”

Tears welled in Julia’s eyes. “My mother deserved a better daughter than me.”

“Now what makes you say a foolish thing like that?” Jerusha placed her fists on her hips. “No daughter could have been more devoted to her mother than you were, especially there at the end.”

“I didn’t love her the way I should have. I resented her for pining for my father. I thought her foolish and overly sentimental. If I’d truly loved her, I would have understood how deep her love for my father was and respected her for that.”

Jerusha caressed Julia’s cheek. “This is how it happens when a loved one dies. The person who survives remembers the one who passed on as a saint and sees herself as a sinner.” The housekeeper leaned against the high mattress. “Now, you know I loved your mama like she was my own sister, but she was a trial. She seemed to take pleasure in being miserable, no matter if it was the heat, the rain, your father’s absence, your brother’s insistence on joining the navy, or your insistence in learning to run the plantation. If Eleanor Witherington did not have something to be aggrieved over, she manufactured something. And you—your patience and caring and perseverance with your mother’s carrying-on amazed me. You might not believe me, but there were times you loved your mother more than she deserved.”

Julia gasped.

“I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead. But you have nothing for which you should feel ashamed when it comes to your mother. She loved you dearly. And she was proud of you.”

New tears pooled in Julia’s eyes. “She was embarrassed by me and my headstrong ways. She wanted me to marry, to give her grandchildren.”

“She may never have told you, but every person who set foot in this house knew how proud your mother was of you—because she told them, repeatedly. You were her pride and joy, dear Miss Julia. You were the kind of strong, capable woman she’d always wanted to be herself.” Jerusha nodded at Julia’s look of incredulity. “She told me so. She wanted nothing to hold you back from doing what made you happy. But she worried you would suffer from her example.”

“Suffer?”

“She feared you would hold yourself back from finding love—that you would shy away from it in fear of becoming like her.”

Shame flooded Julia’s face with heat. “She was right to fear that. I believed love to be a distraction, marriage merely a necessity.”

“But you are stronger than your mother.”

“I do not feel stronger.” Julia slumped forward, arms wrapped around her midsection. “I want to go crawl into my bed and stay there until William returns. I want to insist he take me with him wherever he goes, no matter how dangerous. I want him to choose me over the navy—to choose to resign his commission and stay here with me forever. And then I know I’m a horrible wife, wanting him to give up what makes him happy to make me happy.”

Jerusha chuckled and rested her hand on the top of Julia’s head. “You aren’t a horrible wife for
thinking
those things. The fact that you realize you cannot ask him to
do
those things proves you are a woman who truly loves her husband. But you are a new wife. Have patience. You will learn that your husband’s happiness will bring you more joy than bending him to your will.”

Julia stood and hugged her friend and second mother. “Thank you.” She stepped back and encompassed the room with a sweeping gesture. “And thank you for this. For not changing anything about Mama’s room.”

“I was of two minds about it, worried you would not want to see your mother’s belongings still laid out, and worried if I put them away you would be hurt that I’d done so.”

Julia turned to the vanity and ran her fingers down the engraved silver spine of her mother’s comb. She sank onto the low stool and stared at herself in the mirror. Dark-circled eyes filled with anxiety and exhaustion stared back at her. With a sigh, she ran her hand over her creased forehead.

“You should go lie down, Miss Julia. You of anybody need to be well rested.”

Julia turned to face Jerusha. “I of anybody?”

“Yes, if you are going to be fit to receive our neighbors over the next few days, all while trying to determine how badly Master Winchester has cheated you.” Jerusha raised thin eyebrows.