Bliss.
A marriage built on solid rock and tended with devotion.
He disengaged from her, rolled to his side, and gathered her to him. She came, snuggling her head into the hollow of his shoulder as she always did.
When he’d married her, he’d had no real idea of what marriage to her might demand. What it might take—what it might ask of him. Although he’d had a vague view, that had dissipated rather quickly as he’d learned the truth of her, of the woman she truly was.
Now…while he knew very well that many of his peers would feel uncomfortable within the marriage he and she had wrought, for him, she and this marriage were perfect. She and it met his every need, including those needs he hadn’t previously known he had.
He wanted this marriage—their marriage—every bit as much as she did.
If anything occurred to threaten its fabric, she would fight for it—and he would fight beside her.
Together. Side by side. That was how they—he and she—were meant to be.
Settling her within one arm, in her usual sprawl across his chest, he raised his other arm and, elbow bent, slid his palm beneath his head. He stared upward, not at all certain where his thoughts would lead him, yet they seemed curiously insistent. Relaxing completely, he let them stream through his mind as they would.
He and she had all this—everything any sane couple could want.
Their future glowed, stretching before them, just waiting for them to claim it.
All well and good, yet still he was prey to a nagging sense of…a job left undone.
Of a goal as yet unattained.
Gradually, the source of his unsettledness solidified in his mind.
He hesitated, then, with his senses, he reached for her—and realized she, like he, was still awake.
He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject; she might not feel as he did. After casting about for several moments, he murmured, “We’ll need to go house hunting in the country.”
“Not until this is done.”
Thank God. “Indeed.” Now he knew she felt the same, he let his mind range ahead. “I still can’t imagine what on earth could be behind this…”
“This strange snatching of souls.” She paused, then whispered, “Regardless, neither of us will be able to turn aside until we see it brought to an end.”
Confidence in herself. Confidence in him.
“True.” He thought, then went on, “Wolverstone will bring his next operative to meet us—I think we can count on that. We’ll see who it is and try to gauge what comes next. Assuming Wolverstone makes the same stipulation—that as soon as this agent learns something, he returns immediately with the news rather than following any trail…” Eyes narrowing, he stared unseeing at the ceiling as he followed that train of thought to its logical end. “Then I suspect that whoever it is will focus on Undoto and through him try to pick up our missing people’s trail.”
Her hair slid like silk over his skin as she nodded. “We’ll need to inveigle this new agent to share his news with us when he returns.”
“Depending on whom they send, that might be tricky, but between us, we’ll manage.”
After a moment, she rose on one elbow to look into his face. “You weren’t expecting to sail until July. Whoever goes down to Freetown to investigate will be back long before that.” She tipped her head. “Can The Cormorant remain at Southampton in case we need her again?”
His grin was all teeth. “Now I’ve got her out of Royd’s clutches, I’m not inclined to let him have her back. I’ll go to the office tomorrow and give orders for her to remain moored in Southampton Roads.” He met her gaze. “And I’ll send word to Caldwell and Henry to have her ready to sail to West Africa again on half a day’s notice.”
She looked into his eyes, then she stretched up and touched her lips to his. “Thank you. It might just be my noblesse oblige prodding, but I feel as if we have unfinished business in Freetown. That while we accomplished what you were sent to do, that’s not the end of what we can—and should—do.” Her expression sober, she whispered, “To help those who, in these circumstances, are powerless to help themselves.”
Meeting her gaze, he nodded. “We’ll stand by, ready to answer whatever call comes and to do all we can to bring those lost souls home.”
After several seconds contemplating his expression, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not going to argue that, now that I’m expecting, I have to remain in London?”
He looked into her face, thought of all he’d learned over the past weeks—ever since he’d found her in her trunk, a stowaway in his cabin. “No.” He hesitated, then gave his tongue free rein to express the hope, the joy, the love that filled his heart. “You belong by my side. We’ll find a way.”
He was an adventurer to his soul, and so was she.
And their marriage was the biggest adventure of all—one that would last them a lifetime.
THE END
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ve enjoyed following the adventures of Declan and Edwina—both in marriage and in the settlement of Freetown. Through working together, they have succeeded in the mission Declan was sent to undertake, and through engaging with each other in a similar vein in their other shared venture, they have established a working accord in their marriage and are already looking forward to the ultimate “interesting event.” However, it is clear to them, and to those at whose behest they stepped in, that they’ve barely scratched the surface with respect to the illicit endeavors being pursued and supported by other Englishmen in the settlement.
Some other suitably qualified gentleman must now step up and take on the next stage of this evolving mission—and as it happens, such a gentleman is close at hand. Read on for a preview of what’s to come when that next gentleman appears on the scene.
If you enjoyed reading of Declan and Edwina’s voyage of discovery and feel so inclined, please do share your thoughts with a review here.
I hope you enjoy the passion and drama yet to unfold in the following volumes in The Adventurers Quartet.
Stephanie.
For alerts as new books are released, plus information on upcoming books, exclusive sweepstakes and sneak peeks into upcoming novels, sign up for Stephanie’s Private Email Newsletter
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COMING NEXT IN:
THE ADVENTURERS QUARTET
The voyage continues on March 29, 2015. Continue the adventure in
Volume 2:
A BUCCANEER AT HEART.
CHAPTER 1
May 1824
London
Captain Robert Frobisher strolled at his ease along Park Lane, his gaze on the rippling green canopies of the massive trees in Hyde Park.
He’d steered his ship, The Trident, up the Thames on the previous evening’s tide. They’d moored at Frobisher and Sons’ berth in St. Katherine’s Dock, and after he’d dealt with all the associated palaver, it had been too late to call on anyone. This morning, he’d dutifully gone into the company office in Burr Street; as soon as the customary formalities had been completed and the bulk of his crew released for the day, he’d jumped into a hackney and headed for Mayfair. But rather than driving directly to his brother Declan’s house, he’d had the jarvey let him down at the end of Piccadilly so that he could take a few minutes to drink in the green. He spent so much of his life looking at the sea, being reminded of the beauties of land was no bad thing.
A self-deprecating smile curving his lips, he turned the corner into Stanhope Street. Barely ten o’clock was an unfashionably early hour at which to call at a gentleman’s residence, but he felt sure his brother and his brother�
�s new wife, the lovely Edwina, would welcome him with open arms.
The morning was fine, if a touch crisp, with the sun intermittently screened by gray clouds scudding across the pale sky.
Declan and Edwina resided at Number 26. Looking down the street, Robert saw a black carriage pulled up by the curb farther along.
Premonition swept cool fingers across his nape. Early as it was, there was no other conveyance waiting in the short residential street.
As he continued strolling, idly swinging his cane, a footman perched on the rear of the carriage saw him; instantly, the footman leapt down to the pavement and moved to open the carriage door.
Increasingly intrigued, Robert watched, wondering who would descend. Apparently, he wouldn’t need to check the house numbers to discover which house was his goal.
The gentleman who, with languid grace, stepped out of the carriage and straightened was as tall as Robert, as broad-shouldered and lean. Sable hair framed a face the features of which screamed his station.
Wolverstone. More precisely, His Grace, the Duke of Wolverstone, known in the past as Dalziel.
Given Wolverstone was plainly waiting to waylay and speak with him, Robert surmised that Wolverstone’s status as commander of British agents outside of the isles had, at least temporarily, been restored.
Robert’s cynical, world-weary side wasn’t all that surprised to see the man.
But the gentleman who, much less elegantly, followed Wolverstone from the carriage was unexpected. Portly and very precisely attired, with a fussy, somewhat prim air, the man tugged his waistcoat into place and fiddled with his fob chain; from long experience of the breed, Robert pegged him as a politician. Along with Wolverstone, the man turned to face Robert.
As Robert neared, Wolverstone nodded. “Frobisher.” He held out his hand.
Robert transferred his cane to his other hand; returning the nod, he grasped Wolverstone’s hand, then shifted his gaze to Wolverstone’s companion.
Releasing Robert, Wolverstone waved gracefully. “Allow me to present Viscount Melville, First Lord of the Admiralty.”
Robert managed not to raise his brows. He inclined his head. “Melville.” What the devil was afoot?
Melville curtly nodded back, then drew in a portentous breath. “Captain Frobisher—”
“Perhaps,” Wolverstone smoothly interjected, “we should adjourn inside.” His dark eyes met Robert’s gaze. “Your brother won’t be surprised to see us, but in deference to Lady Edwina, we thought it best to await your arrival in the carriage.”
The notion that consideration of Edwina’s possible reaction held the power to influence Wolverstone even that much… Robert fought not to grin. His sister-in-law was a duke’s daughter and thus of the same social stratum as Wolverstone, yet Robert would have wagered there were precious few who Wolverstone would even think to tip-toe gently around.
Curiosity burgeoning in leaps and bounds, at Wolverstone’s wave, Robert led the way up the steps to the narrow front porch.
He hadn’t previously called at this house, but the butler who opened the door to his knock recognized him instantly. The man’s face lit. “Captain Frobisher.” Then the butler noticed the other two men, and his expression turned inscrutable.
Realizing the man didn’t know either Wolverstone or Melville, Robert smiled easily. “I gather these gentlemen are acquainted with my brother.”
He didn’t need to say more—Declan must have heard the butler’s greeting; he appeared through a doorway down the hall.
Smiling, Declan strode forward. “Robert—well-met!”
They grinned and clapped each other on the shoulders, then Declan noticed Wolverstone and Melville. Declan’s expression shuttered, but then he looked at Robert, a faintly question evident in his blue eyes.
Robert arched a brow back. “They were waiting outside.”
“Ah. I see.”
From Declan’s tone, Robert gathered that his brother was uncertain whether Wolverstone and Melville’s appearance was good news or bad.
Yet with assured courtesy, Declan welcomed Wolverstone and Melville, shaking their hands. “Gentlemen.” As the butler shut the door, Declan caught Wolverstone’s eye. “The drawing room might be best.”
Wolverstone inclined his head, and the butler moved to throw open the door to their left.
Declan waved Wolverstone, Melville, and Robert through; as Declan started to follow, Robert heard the butler ask, “Should I inform her ladyship, sir?”
Without hesitation, Declan replied, “Please.”
Sinking into one of the numerous armchairs spread around the cozy room, Robert was surprised that Declan hadn’t even paused before summoning his wife to attend what was clearly destined to be a business meeting—although of what business, Robert couldn’t guess.
Declan had barely had a chance to offer his guests refreshments—which they all declined—before the door opened and Edwina swept in, bringing all four men to their feet.
Fetchingly gowned in cornflower-blue-and-white-striped silk, she looked happy and delighted—glowing with an uncomplicated enthusiasm for life. Although her first smile was for Declan, in the next breath, she turned her radiance on Robert and opened her arms. “Robert!”
He couldn’t help but smile widely in return and allow her the liberty of an embrace. “Edwina.” He’d met her several times, both at his parents’ home as well as at her family’s, and he thoroughly approved of her; from the first, he’d seen her as precisely the right lady for Declan. He returned her hug and dutifully bussed the smooth cheek she tipped up to him.
Drawing back, she met his eyes. “I’m utterly delighted to see you! Did Declan tell you we planned to make this our London base?”
She barely paused for his answer—and his quick look at Declan—before she inquired about The Trident and his immediate plans for the day. After he told her of his ship’s position and his lack of any plans, she informed him that he would be staying for luncheon and also to dine.
Then she turned to greet Wolverstone and Melville. The ease she displayed toward them made it clear she was already acquainted with them both.
At Edwina’s gracious wave, they resettled in the armchairs and sofa, and the next minutes went in general converse led, of course, by Edwina.
Noting the quick smiling looks she shared with Declan, noting his brother’s response, Robert felt a distinct pang of envy. Not that he coveted Edwina; he liked her, but she was too forceful a personality for his taste. Declan needed a lady like her to balance his own character, but Robert’s character was quite different.
He was the diplomat of the family, careful and cautious, while his three brothers were reckless hellions.
“Well, then.” Apparently satisfied with what Wolverstone had deigned to share about his family’s health, Edwina clasped her hands in her lap. “Given you gentlemen are here, I expect Declan and I had better tell Robert about how we’ve spent the last five weeks—about the mission and what we discovered in Freetown.”
Mission? Freetown? Robert had thought that, while he’d been on the other side of the Atlantic, Declan and Edwina had remained in London. Apparently not.
Edwina arched a brow at Wolverstone.
His expression impassive, he inclined his head. “I daresay that will be fastest.”
Robert didn’t miss the resignation in Wolverstone’s tone.
He felt sure Edwina didn’t either, but she merely smiled approvingly at Wolverstone, then transferred her bright gaze to Declan. “Perhaps you had better start.”
Entirely sober, Declan looked at Robert and did.
Between them, Declan and Edwina related a tale that kept Robert transfixed.
That Edwina had stowed away and joined Declan on his run south wasn’t really that much of a surprise. But the puzzling situation in Freetown—and the consequent danger that had stalked them and, beyond anyone’s ability to predict, had reached out and touched Edwina—was a tale guaranteed to capture and hold his attentio
n.
By the time Edwina concluded with a reassurance that she’d taken no lasting harm from the events of their last night in Freetown, Robert no longer had any doubt as to why Wolverstone and Melville had been waiting on the doorstep to waylay him.
Melville huffed and promptly confirmed Robert’s assumption. “As you can see, Captain Frobisher, we are in desperate need of someone with similar capabilities as your brother to travel to Freetown as fast as may be and continue our investigation.”
Robert glanced at Declan. “I take it this falls under our…customary association with the government?”
Wolverstone stirred. “Indeed.” He met Robert’s eyes. “There are precious few others who could do the job, and no one else with a fast ship in harbor.”
After a second of holding Wolverstone’s dark gaze, Robert nodded. “Very well.” This was a far cry from his usual voyages ferrying diplomats—or diplomatic secrets of whatever sort—back and forth, but he could see the need, could appreciate the urgency. And he’d sailed into Freetown before.
He looked at Declan. “Is this why there were no orders waiting for me at the office?” He’d been surprised to learn that; the demand for his services was usually so great that The Trident was rarely free for more than a few days, and Royd and his Corsair often had to take on the overload.
Declan nodded. “Wolverstone informed Royd the government would most likely need to call on another of us once The Cormorant got back, and fortuitously, you were due in. I received a missive from Royd, and there’s one waiting for you in the library—we’re free of our usual business and are to devote our services to the Crown.”
Robert dipped his head in acknowledgment. He tapped his fingers on the chair’s arm as he sifted through all Declan and Edwina had revealed, adding in Wolverstone’s dry comments and Melville’s few utterances. He narrowed his eyes, in his mind studying the jigsaw-like picture he’d assembled from the facts. “All right. Let’s see if I have this straight. Four serving officers have gone missing, one after another, along with at least four young women and an unknown number of other men. These disappearances occurred over a period of four months or more, and the few instances known to have been discussed with Governor Holbrook, he dismissed as due to those involved having gone off to seek their fortune in the jungle or elsewhere. Some such excuse. In addition, seventeen children from the slums are also missing, apparently disappearing over much the same period, with Holbrook brushing their vanishing aside as children running off—nothing more nefarious.
The Lady's Command (Adventurers Quartet #1) Page 25
