Miles Before I Sleep

by Byrd, M. Donice

  “Just wait a minute. It might not be Andrea James at all. I only saw her from a distance and followed her here. It could be someone else. I’ve been waiting for three days for her to show herself again.”

  “There’s one way to find out,” Danny said as he turned on his heel and led the men to her room.

  Miles was prepared to claim it was not Andrea, but doubted anyone would believe him. He was spared his lie when they arrived to find the room empty, the window open, and no sign of Andrea or anyone else in the room.

  Aloud, Miles cursed the men for letting Andrea get away, all the while silently cursing himself for not confronting her when he had the chance. He could have offered to let her stay on the ship under his protection until it sailed. Or at the very least, he could have told Sebastian that she was here. Sebastian would have brought the girl home, but at least he would know that she was safe.

  Damn his selfishness.

  Miles considered suggesting that all the men in the room begin an immediate search for her, knowing she could not have gone far. But the last thing Andrea needed was to have these men, and whomever they questioned, close on her trail. Miles wanted to protect her, not put her in more danger. He only hoped Andrea would be able to find another safe place to wait until the ship sailed in one week.

  9

  Andrea donned the brown tweed suit for what she hoped would be the last time ever. Her breasts were bound so tightly that her breathing felt slightly labored, but she was so close to freedom, she didn’t dare take any chances of being discovered by her carelessness. In less than one hour, she would be locked safely in a stateroom of The Lady Fair, and once out to sea, she would return to being the young woman she was brought up to be, if not as Andrea James, at least as a young woman of breeding. Andrea knew until the ship was far out to sea, and she could no longer be put ashore, that she either could not leave her cabin, or would have to leave it as a man. Andrea planned to bring aboard enough food for her first day or two so she would not have to leave her room until she felt it was safe.

  Gluing on the fake mustache for what she hoped was the last time, Andrea pressed it onto skin that felt raw from the sticky paste. It was because of that mustache that she was bringing food with her. Since she had been forced to change lodgings, she had been compelled to dine in the common room at meal times because the tavern owner refused to spare a wench to, as he put it, “Do the bidding of a slumming lordling.”

  Andrea could not wait to leave the tavern and looked forward to a quiet night of uninterrupted sleep. She had never imagined a place could be as noisy as the tavern at night. It was abound with sailors from early in the afternoon until nearly sun up the next day, with fights breaking out with unerring frequency.

  But Andrea had stayed there as much to let her twisted ankle heal as to stay hidden. The tavern was only two blocks from the Red Hen; in fact, it was the first place she had come to after dropping out the window of her room. Since she had landed wrong and twisted her ankle, she had taken the first room she could find. She appeared in her male garb and no one had suspected she was Andrea James. The place was seedy and rowdy and she doubted anyone would ever look for her there. The door was solid and had a strong lock, giving Andrea a feeling of relative safety during her stay.

  ~*~

  “Shamus, please, listen to reason.”

  “Let it rest, Rory. I’ve already made up my mind. All you have to do is wait a week and see that my letter gets sent to her father.”

  Rory thrust his hands in his pockets. “This just isn’t like you, Miles. Show some consideration to her parents. You know they are worried sick about her. At least let me send off the letter as soon as you cast off, so they can rest easy knowing she’s safe with you.”

  Miles barely spared a glance in his cousin’s direction. He was looking out the window of the dockside office as he had been doing most of the day waiting for his first sight of Andrea. “As powerful as Sebastian James is, he could easily have us stopped before we reach the mouth of the Thames. If I turn her over to them, I might as well just say my final goodbyes because Andrea would resent me for spoiling her plans.”

  “Has it occurred to you that Mr. James might reconsider letting you marry her when he finds out you let her get on your ship and sail to New York.”

  “I have every intention of being married to her before he catches up with us. The Lady Fair can cross more than a week faster than anything he owns, add that to the week you need to wait to send the letter and I’ll have a fortnight head start, minimum.”

  Rory let his hands fly in the air with frustration. “I don’t know why you’d want to marry that shallow, materialistic brat in the first place. You read that letter. She only wants a marriage that will give her something in return.” Rory ignored Miles’s scathing look and continued on, heedless of the warning look in his eye. “She’s an ice princess, Shamus. I thought so the first time I met her. She has no more feelings than a rock.”

  “Go to the devil, Rory,” Miles gritted, then gave his cousin his back.

  “No, I’ll have my say. I have kept my mouth shut long enough. You spent all of fifteen minutes with her five years ago. I will be the first to admit that she was beautiful that night—a sampling of things to come, if you will. But she’s not a pretty thing to put on your shelf to look at when you’re bored. Andrea James was haughty and disdainful from the moment she set foot on American soil until she left. You have let your imagination run away with you. You built her up in your mind until she’s practically saintlike. If you rush into marrying her, I guarantee you will regret it.”

  “It’s all an act,” Miles said under his breath, before he started for the door.

  “You know that from one dance? Are you doing it for the money, Shamus?”

  “What do you think?”

  ~*~

  The docks were crowded with carriages, trunks and people when Andrea arrived. The air fairly crackled with excitement, and Andrea was quickly caught up in it. Finally, she was going to be out of her parents’ grasp and in a few short weeks, she would be ensconced in her father’s New York office, where she would learn the business first-hand. When the time came for Sebastian to retire, she would be ready to take over. All she had to do now was walk down the pier to the ship, board it and stay out of sight until the ship was out to sea. After that, she would be free to dispose of her male persona and become herself again. Well, maybe not Andrea James, but Jayne Andrews.

  As Andrea made her way through the throng, she wondered if there were any pickpockets about. She clutched the handles of her luggage tighter, thinking about the money inside. She had only a little over forty pounds left and would need most of it to secure lodging and pay for her needs until she began to draw pay. In the past, she had rarely handled money and she had no way of knowing how long that amount would last in America. So, for the time being, she would have to be frugal.

  She was walking past the H & O office when Miles Huntington stepped out. “Jim Andrews, wasn’t it?” Miles said casually.

  “Jim? Ah, yes. That’s right,” Andrea said.

  “I was just going aboard myself. I’ll show you to your cabin, if you’d like. Here, let me take one of those.”

  With a great deal of gratitude, she relinquished one of the bags from her slightly raw, red hand, glad to be given a slight reprieve from the heavy burden.

  Miles led her up the gangplank, past a line of passengers waiting to be checked in before they were allowed to board. Andrea heard a few grumbles over her preferential treatment but ignored them.

  “Please check in Jim Andrews, Mr. Waite.”

  The mate straightened his stance immediately when he heard Miles’s voice. “Aye-aye, sir. Andrews, comma, Jim,” the man said brusquely as he found the name on his passenger list.

  “Check. You’re in the Virginia stateroom, Mr. Andrews.”

  Miles was in the process of saying something to Andrea when he saw Sebastian James making a beeline for the ship. “Curse it,” he mu
rmured, making Andrea turn to see what had made him swear. “When Mr. James gets here, have him shown to the pilothouse, and tell him I’ll be with him presently. Come along, Jim. Your cabin is right next to mine.”

  With her stomach knotted with sudden anxiety, Andrea fell in step behind Miles, leaving Mr. Waite to unruffle the feathers of the haughty Pike family who had been usurped by Miles and the chap with him.

  “Well, I never…! Who does that man think he is?”

  “Miles Huntington, the owner,” Waite answered, glad to put the stuffy woman in her place.

  “The owner? But he is so young and handsome.”

  The woman glanced at her young daughter for a brief moment. Waite could almost hear the unspoken words that passed between mother and daughter, and was not surprised by her next question.

  “Married?”

  ~*~

  Miles extended his hand to Sebastian James as soon as he stepped into the pilothouse. He had definite misgivings about speaking with Sebastian, knowing the man’s anguish, and knowing he could end it at any moment. But Miles felt certain if Andrea knew he was Shamus, there would be no hope of ever getting her to marry him. There would be time enough for the truth once Andrea had given her heart to him.

  Sebastian greeted Miles warmly, smiling as though nothing was amiss. “I’m sorry things haven’t worked out any better.”

  “I haven’t given up, yet, I want you to know. I have a letter for you to give her when you find her.” Miles produced an envelope from his pocket and handed it to his would-be father-in-law. Andrea’s name was written neatly across the front. Miles had used wax to seal it to ensure that no one would open it and discover that the three sheets inside were blank. “I thought she might prefer a short correspondence before we meet again.”

  Sebastian eyed him thoughtfully, nodding his head.

  “You think she’ll come home now?”

  “Once I’m well away, I’m sure you’ll have word of her whereabouts from whoever is keeping her in hiding,” said Miles ambiguously.

  “No doubt,” the girl’s father agreed absently. After glancing at the envelope for a moment, Sebastian put it in his pocket. “I think I knew from the moment I met you, that you were the kind of man who doesn’t give up on what he wants. You told me you wanted to try steamships and here you have one.”

  “I feel just as strongly about your daughter. I’ll do what I must to marry her.”

  “I know. You are a lot like me. That’s why I like you. You do what you have to do to win my daughter, young man, and as long as she agrees to marry you, you’ll have my consent.”

  Sebastian shook the younger man’s hand as he bade him bon voyage before disembarking.

  “Did you hear what he said, Captain Bloodworthy?” Miles asked.

  “Aye, I heard,” Levi Bloodworthy said.

  “Good. Remember it.”

  ~*~

  Sebastian waited until the carriage pulled away from the curb to retrieve the letter from his pocket. He did not hesitate even a moment before he broke the seal and pulled out the contents. Blank. Damn scoundrel. Did he think he would object to letting Andrea sail with him? He wanted this marriage as much as Shamus. True, he would have wanted her chaperoned, but apparently, Miles was too intent on marrying her to take any chances. Suddenly, Sebastian laughed aloud. Damn, if he wouldn’t have done the same thing twenty years ago.

  As he slowly sobered, he wondered if he would have known under the same circumstances that he was being followed by hired detectives. Probably not. Miles had no reason to suspect it. Sebastian had every reason to want to find out if Miles was the man he thought he was. He had been mildly disappointed when Miles didn’t tell him he found her, but since she had practically fallen into his lap by booking passage on his ship, he could hardly blame the younger man. Sebastian had known where Andrea’s location within a few hours of the story breaking in the papers. The cabbie arrived promptly on his doorstep, described her perfectly, and told him where to find her. Sebastian hired a dozen men to watch the place in shifts of four and to follow her discreetly, and if need be, protect her. He even had a man spending the night in the common room of the Red Hen each night and in the second tavern after she was forced to flee. Miles had lost track of her, but Sebastian never had.

  Andrea had been careful, for which he had been thankful. If she had ever been in any kind of danger, his hired men would have been forced to show themselves. The game would have been over, and she would have been taken home where she would have found a strong ally in her mother.

  Lillian had been dead set against the idea of Andrea marrying Miles the second she heard about it and would not consider it. In the months following his announcement of the betrothal, Sebastian had learned a great deal about the woman he had been married to for the last twenty years. Lillian was a single-minded social climber, and he began to have doubts about why she married him. Oh well, they were content together. There was no reason to go looking for trouble where it did not exist. In the end, Sebastian had to lay down the law and tell Lillian the matter was not open for discussion. It was his consent that was needed for the marriage to take place, not hers, and Miles was the perfect candidate to take his place when he was too old to run the shipping company.

  There was another reason Sebastian had not brought Andrea home when he discovered her whereabouts. He was simply curious about her plans. In her letter, she said she had found out about the betrothal a year before. He doubted that her running away was spontaneous but was instead planned. Sebastian was baffled. It seemed logical that Andrea might take refuge with her friend Margarita, or escape to their country home. But when the cabbie told him she was in Wapping, waiting for the return of the Sea Vixen, he wondered if Andrea might already have met a man—a man from one of his own ships. She had spent enough time at the shipping office that she had met more sailors then any respectable young woman should. He only hoped if there was a man, that he had rank. The cabbie told him that she had mentioned the cooper of the Sea Vixen, but Sebastian immediately dismissed him. He was a salty old dog, with a weathered face and a surly disposition. After giving it more thought, he decided it might be the second mate. He was young and educated, and although not a particularly handsome man, Sebastian found him amiable. The man had signed on two years earlier, but he could not recall her meeting him except in passing. So, Sebastian was content to sit and wait until the man showed his face or Andrea tipped her hand.

  When word came that Andrea had donned a disguise other than the ones she had taken from Lillian’s trunk, and had booked passage to New York, Sebastian became intrigued. Had she known beforehand who owned the H & O? Did she recognize Miles or know he was the man she was running from? Sebastian sent word immediately to New York that Andrea would soon be visiting New York. Should she make any request at the office, be it money, passage home, or anything else, they were to comply posthaste.

  Sebastian looked down at the blank sheets in his hand and grinned. Damn if Miles didn’t remind him of himself.

  10

  Andrea was impressed with her accommodations. Her stateroom was as large as the captain’s quarters on several of her father’s ships. The bunk was wide enough for two with ample storage underneath for her luggage. A horsehair sofa sat across from two wing chairs that flanked a small table. One wall was filled with beautifully polished built-in lockers and drawers for her clothing. She felt fortunate that she had been able to see it as it was intended to be viewed, not many years from now when wear and tear had taken its toll. Andrea’s only complaint was the constant roar of the engine. It took some time to get acclimated to the sound, and made it difficult to go to sleep, but once she was asleep, it seemed to mask most other noises, helping her sleep longer.

  She went to bed the night before smelling the salt in the air, and knew they had reached the Channel. It seemed to take forever to get out of London. There had been a great deal of congestion as they passed the Surrey docks. Andrea had watched out her small window for a glimps
e of her father. She missed her parents terribly, but there was no sign of him. By morning, The Lady Fair should be past Dover and out to open sea.

  Finally, the morning came, filled with expectations of newfound freedom. Having been confined in one way or another since she left her parents’ house, she was afforded the limited freedom of the ship, if she cared to exercise it.

  Wearing a bright yellow dress and carrying a parasol, Andrea left her cabin. One might have thought it odd that she had made sure to bring her parasol, but to her it was as essential as any article of clothing. The instructions at her mother’s hand were so deeply ingrained, that Andrea would no more let the sun shine directly on her fair skin, than she would eat with her fingers in front of Queen Victoria.

  Andrea stood at the rail of the side-wheeler looking out over the great expanse of tranquil sea. Freedom was the word that came to mind as she deeply inhaled the salty air, feeling nearly as excited as she had on her father’s ships. Excited, yet somewhat apprehensive, she amended mentally.

  The shadow being cast on the rail next to her was the first indication that she was being approached. Her back stiffened involuntarily with the fear that she would turn her head to find Miles Huntington standing beside her, and she suddenly regretted her abandonment of her costumes.

  Slowly, she turned her head, and was relieved to find that another passenger had come to stand next to her. The woman was in her fifties, her face slightly jowled despite her lean frame. She could tell immediately by her clothing and deportment that the woman was part of the ton.

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen you on deck before,” the woman said brightly. “Seasick, I suppose, poor dear.” She patted the hand Andrea had resting on the rail. “It happens to the best of us. My poor husband is still abed. We haven’t been introduced, I’m Lady Alma Pike.”

  Andrea saw no reason to contradict the woman’s assumption that she had been seasick. “I’m Jayne Andrews,” Andrea said without hesitation.