01 - Captured Dreams

by May McGoldrick

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  “More reason to take her then. She cannot hold it over your head if she is not in the colonies.”

  Pierce looked out the open window. He could smell the smoke from dinner fires mingling with the scent of tar and brine. It would be so much easier to say no, he told himself. The crossing would be quieter…and far drearier.

  “We’re sailing for Scotland. She wants to go to Wales.”

  “A minor point. She could make the arrangement for the next leg once you are across the Atlantic.”

  “You were searching into her past. What else did you find?”

  “Nothing to make me concerned for your safety. She appears to be as innocent as a babe.”

  “That is going too far. You forget, I have seen her in action.”

  “I am talking about her reputation. I know nothing of her private behavior,” Nathaniel said meaningfully.

  “Nor do I,” Pierce growled in return. “Whatever you think is going on between us, you are incorrect. And having her travel on my own ship does not mean that she will be likely to share my berth.”

  “Of course not. Why should I think such a thing?” Nathaniel smiled as he crossed his arms and stretched his long legs before him. “Now, do you want to send a message giving her the news, or do you want me to handle it?”

  ****

  Ann and Walter had only been moderately successful in containing their excitement during dinner. Their own Portia was seated in her old chair. nd afterward, being allowed to join their parents and guests in the parlor, had clearly been a special treat for them. Having the children refer to her as a “guest,” though, was somewhat difficult for Portia to bear.

  She had been surprised and elated to find her friend waiting for her in her room above the apothecary shop yesterday afternoon. The offer of peace was a dream come true. Of course, Portia had been thrilled to accept Mary’s invitation to dine with the family the following night. What she had not known, however, was that Captain Turner was also an invited guest.

  Unfortunately, Portia’s arrival had coincided with the officer’s, so she had no warning. And since then, the man had been relating in endless detail to the Parson and Mary every moment that he had spent with her. He seemed happiest when voicing his complaint that she had left Admiral Middleton’s mansion before he had a chance to come for her at the end of the day. To someone who did not know better, one would think there was some “understanding” between them. From the way he spoke about her, often as if she were not even present, it was clear that he had more plans for the days to come.

  There was no purpose in denying anything. If was not the time to set him in his place. Portia had to remind herself that she was in a vulnerable position at the moment, considering the plans she had in the works. She would tolerate all that she could until she received word from Mr. Muir or from Pierce. And until then, she was thankful for the children’s presence. If it were not for them, she would have become ill and excused herself long ago.

  Unfortunately, she could not put herself out of earshot of the officer’s interminable droning.

  “Do not the three of them look lovely?” Mary broke in on one of the rare occasions when he paused for breath.

  Portia heard her remark and decided not to acknowledge it. Ann, having heard it, turned her back to the adults sitting on the other side of the room and rolled her eyes. Portia and Ann and Walter had been taking turns playing Naughts ‘n’ Crosses on a slate since they’d all retired to this room after dinner.

  “‘Tis a wholesome sight, indeed,” the officer asserted. “It reaffirms in a man a certain faith in the inherent ability in women to develop that maternal—”

  “Portia has the perfect disposition for dealing with children. They are always eager to spend time with her.”

  “I am sure you are correct, ma’am. And I have to admit, she has the same effect on me,” Turner announced. “You cannot fathom the extent of my disappointment when I had to leave her bright face this afternoon. But, as always, she showed complete understanding with regard to my responsibilities. I am definitely in awe of the way she willingly sacrifices her own comforts and wishes to make certain I am under no hardship. You should know that this is a rare quality among the young women these days. Most only think of themselves and have acquired a disgusting propensity to consider themselves equal to men. ‘Tis most unnatural, but I find the attitude in some of the most surprising places.”

  Portia glanced quickly at Mary. The parson had placed a calming hand on her arm. She struggled to keep a straight face, though, when Ann began to imitate Captain Turner, leaning stiffly in her direction so far as to place her small chin on Portia’s shoulder.

  “Is it my turn, yet?” she whispered in the captain’s drone.

  “Not yet.” Walter frowned at his sister. “We each play three games. Now behave, you monkey, and keep score.”

  Portia placed a kiss on Ann’s forehead before wiping the slate clean. Walter went first.

  “Are you fond of children, Captain Turner?” Mary asked, her tone sounding much more strained than before.

  “Indeed, especially well behaved ones, like yours. I am told I was an exemplary child myself. But I believe it all comes down to the discipline one receives at an early age. A child must be taught the importance of right and wrong at a time and in a manner that one never forgets.” Turner leaned forward in his chair. “I was a very fortunate child in that my mother was forbidden to have any say in my upbringing. She was far too tenderhearted. My father, however, bless his soul, allowed for no mistakes. When he was home on leave, he expected perfection and carried a riding crop to be sure I performed to his expectations. When he was away with his regiment, he made certain that my masters beat me once a week whether I deserved it or not. Of course, I had choices as I grew older. If I did not like his way, I always had the option of going and becoming a beggar.”

  Both Walter and Ann had forgotten about the game and were staring at the officer with their mouths open.

  “To this day, I thank my father for his beliefs in childrearing,” he said to the children. “I sometimes touch the faint scars that remain on my body and think how fortunate I was to have been born to such a man of strength and character. He made me the man that I am today. It saddens me, of course, that I could not die beside him fighting heroically against the Scotch traitors on Culloden Moor…”

  Turner paused, obviously still moved by the memory of his father’s death. The silence in the room was total, and Mary was staring at the floor, her face white with anger. The Captain did not look at her, and continued.

  “But in any event, I cannot wait for the day where I can pass on my father’s legacy to the next generation…a legacy of strength and character and discipline.”

  Absolute silence again descended on the room. Of everyone present, Portia knew the most about Turner’s twisted attitudes. She had heard little bits of information about his family through his cousin Bella. She’d had no idea until tonight, though, just how warped his views were. Mary appeared lost for words.

  “I suppose you two will be thanking the good Lord for a few more things tonight,” William Higgins said drolly to his two children.

  Turner laughed, obviously ignorant of the parson’s intended meaning.

  Ann jumped to her feet and ran to her father, nestling in his lap. Walter sat back on his heels and continued to stare with some concern at the officer.

  A knock on the door brought an end to the uncomfortable silence in the room. Josiah entered, and the old servant’s gaze quickly fell on Portia.

  “There is someone at the door for ye, miss.”

  She didn’t ask any questions and made a hasty apology before following him out.

  In the front entryway, a young messenger waited. He extended a sealtter toward her. “I went to the apothecary shop and was told you were here for dinner, miss. I was ordered to deliver this in person and wait for an answer.”

  Portia looked behind her. Other tha
n Josiah, no one else had followed her out of the room. She broke open the letter and scanned the contents. Certain words leapt off the page at her. Crossing. Tomorrow. Her free hand fisted and pressed against her stomach. She could hardly restrain her excitement. She read the letter again.

  There was the opportunity to secure passage on a ship departing with the tide from Narragansett Bay sometime after midnight tomorrow night. She needed to be in Bristol before then. There she would meet the people who would arrange for her to get onto the ship.

  Scotland! She looked up in excitement. No one would be coming after them once they were there. She could easily arrange to travel to Wales. She looked down again. She was asked to keep the details a secret, as the ship was not coming to port.

  Of course she would keep it a secret. Portia glanced down at the initials at the bottom—N M. There were no signifying mark on the envelope’s wax seal. No other clues that would give Nathaniel away if the letter were to be intercepted.

  She thought of running upstairs and writing her response, but then she heard voices leaving the parlor.

  “Please tell them yes,” Portia said in a rush, opening the door for the young messenger. She stuffed the letter into the pocket of her dress and motioned for him to go. “Tell them I shall be there.”

  “What is this all about?” Turner asked, pushing past Josiah.

  The young man slipped out and ran off down the street. Portia quickly closed the door and put her back to it.

  “Who was that?”

  She knew her face was flushed. Worry knotted her stomach. “Someone…a boy bringing me a private message.”

  “From whom?”

  A variety of emotions churned inside her. More than anything else, she wanted to lash out at the man for assuming that he had the right to question her regarding private affairs.

  “Nothing that is any of your concern, Captain,” she said tensely. “I told you ‘twas a private matter.”

  The officer disregarded what she said and took hold of Josiah’s arm, shoving him toward the door. “Go call him back. I need to know what he wanted.”

  The old servant stumbled and would have fallen, but Portia reached out and helped him regain his balance.

  “That was entirely uncalled for,” she snapped, turning on Turner. “There is no reason to treat this man so callously! And though you are a second cousin to a dear friend of mine, our acquaintance does not give you any right to delve in my affairs. Is that understood, Captain?”

  Turner’s back stiffened, and the blood drained from the officer’s face. He looked down his nose at her imperiously. “Miss Edwards, as a representative of Crown authority in Boston, I do have the right to question whom I want, when I want, and wherever I see fit. And do you thinkthat you, a woman, are in any position to tell me what my duty might be? In fact, I find it quite presumptuous on your part to think that my inquiry concerns you. My commission from the King requires me to—”

  “Though I am hardly more qualified than Miss Edwards,” the Parson said evenly, stepping between the two of them, “I cannot believe the King could be overly concerned about a message from Dr. and Mrs. Crease.”

  Portia had not realized before that they had an audience, but now she even saw Mary standing in the hallway and holding the children against her skirts.

  “There are better ways of getting information, Captain,” the Parson continued. “A simple question, for example. You would be amazed at the miracles that can be produced through polite inquiry. And I must agree with Miss Edwards that there are better ways of giving directives in the households of others.” He put a hand on old Josiah’s arm. “I would imagine that even your father used some restraint in his treatment of aging servants.”

  The pallor of the officer’s face remained unchanged, but his hostile tone lessened somewhat. He bowed stiffly to his hosts.

  “You are, of course, correct. You must understand that there are so many troublemakers running wild in the streets of this foul town that one sometimes forgets who is a friend of the Crown and who is not. Miss Edwards…” He turned to her, his gaze enigmatic. “In the future I suggest you offer an explanation immediately, so that all this unpleasantness can be avoided.”

  Portia had to bite her tongue to keep from replying. One more day, she told herself. She only had to tolerate him for one more day.

  CHAPTER 16

  It was not until he was several blocks away that Pierce realized who it was that he had passed hurrying down Purchase Street in the dark. Dismounting in front of his house, he handed off the reins to his groom, who appeared immediately and led the horse away. Waving off his doorman, he waited until Portia came breathlessly into view.

  “I am so glad…so glad to see you, Mr. Pennington,” she started, sounding fairly winded. “But I am very sorry…to arrive unexpectedly like this. You told me you lived on the Purchase Street, but I hadn’t any idea which house. I’ve been walking up and down, hoping for some indication of which is your house, and—”

  “’Tis nearly eleven at night,” he scolded, taking her by the arm and starting for his front door. “Tell me you haven’t been walking around in the dark since you sent back word from Parson Higgins’s house.”

  “As a matter of fact…”

  “But that was three hours ago.”

  “I am so happy you received my answer.” Portia let out a sigh of relief and stepped through the door ahead of him, returning the doorman’s greeting. Pierce helped her remove her cloak, took the candle from his man and sent him on his way.

  “I must tell you that leaving the Higgins family was very difficult for me. You know that the children are very special to me. I could not say goodbye to any of them properly. But then Captain Turner insisted on escorting me home. ‘Twas absolutely dreadful.”

  She ran a hand down the front of her skirts, smoothing invisible wrinkles out of the simple but handsome dress. Pierce appreciated that she was again wearing something that accentuated her beautiful curves. Wild ringlets danced around her heart-shaped face. She had the same wild look that had bewitched him that first night. He hadn’t realized until this moment that how much he had missed her, how much he would like to pull her into his arms and feel her body against his now. But he would bide his time.

  It actually touched him that she had come looking for him. She didn’t know that he was going back to Scotland on the same ship. He and Nathaniel had made the decision to keep his going away a secret until after the Gaspee…until after he was gone.

  “And that was not even the end of my troubles,” Portia continued. “I had to remain in my room above the apothecary for what felt like an hour until he finished giving orders to a company of bloody soldiers on the street.”

  “Such language, Miss Edwards,” he teased, leading her to his study. “You should really consider how you refer to members of His Majesty’s army.”

  “My apologies.” This time she smiled. “As you can tell, I am quite excited about the voyage…and about actually finding you.”

  “But I believe I found you.”

  “I am the one who came looking, though.”

  “Indeed you did.” Pierce watched color rise into her cheeks. He closed the door.

  Portia moved to the middle of the room and then turned around. “It really does not matter who found whom. The important thing is that I got the chance to see you—one last time.”

  “So you came to say goodbye.”

  He saw her eyes were glistening in the candlelight, and she dropped her gaze to the floor between them.

  “I came…I came to say thank you for what you have already done and what you are doing for me now. I also came to apologize for all the trouble I have caused you. I also came to say that…that the little time that I have been fortunate enough to spend in your company has been so…so exhilarating.”

  Pierce slowly walked toward her.

  Portia looked up. “I…I…”

  He came to a stop only when the fine wool of his coat brushed against t
he fabric of her gown and his breath mingled with hers. “You think our time together has been exhilarating?”

  She swallowed and nodded once. “It has been for me.”

  His fingers gently stroked the line of her jaw. She rose onto her tiptoes, her lips hovering just beneath his. Her eyes were so large and beautiful looking up into his.

  “For me, too, Portia,” he whispered. “But what we’ve had has been just a splash in a rain puddle on a summer day. Where I want to take you is into an ocean of passion where we can plunge so deeply into the waves of desire that we will wonder if we can survive.”

  Her fingers inched up his chest. “I suppose my ignorance has been my salvation. I know not what I have misu. nce I have never experienced it.”

  “Then perhaps we should part ways with just a little sample.” Pierce’s lips brushed hers, and then he drew back. Her lips followed. He forced himself to hold back, to let her try her own wings and follow her own desires. She kissed him, innocently at first. Her arms slid upward, encircling his neck. Her breasts pressed against him, and she placed soft kisses against his chin, on his lips. She ran her fingers through his hair, her mouth moving to his ear, where she bit gently on his earlobe. Her lips moved back to his mouth and she kissed him again, this time using the tip of her tongue, encouraging him to take command.

  As much as Pierce wanted Portia to find her own pace, her innocent play set his body on fire. Instantly, all of his good intentions were forgotten, and he delved deeply with his tongue, boldly taking what she offered. He touched her breast through the dress, kneading her firm flesh. She leaned into his touch, a soft moan escaping her. His other hand slid down along her back until he felt the curve of her hip. He moved against her, feeling the heat rising between them. Unconsciously, she answered his silent invitation, moving her body to some rhythm within her.