She stared at him, refusing to drop her gaze the way he enjoyed. “No proposal has passed your lips. Nor has an acceptance passed mine. You do not own me or have any say.”
He sat back in his chair crossing his arms over his chest. “If you were my wife, you would have been sent to your room to await your punishment the second you refused to eat.”
“Being told I could eat nothing on my plate is not punishment enough? Even prisoners get bread and water.”
She picked up the naan, tore off a large section and put it in her mouth.
The marquess’s eyes narrowed, his bruised lips curled inward and set into a hard line. Suddenly, he lunged at her and ripped the bread from her hand. He threw it on the floor and stomped his heavy black boot on top of it.
Andrea pushed back her chair and rose to her feet.
“Sit down until I dismiss you.”
She stared at him as she walked to the back of her heavy chair, picked it up and carried it towards Miles’s full table.
Miles rose, moved his chair to the side to make room, and then crossed to assist her. He held the chair for her as she took her place then returned to his seat.
“May I?” she asked, indicating his plate with a nod of her head.
He picked up the remainder of his meal and put it in front of her. She did not care that she used his utensils as she took a bite, defiantly staring across the room at the marquess.
Red-faced with rage, Clive Treymaine, Marquess of Ironwood rose, throwing his linen napkin on his plate and stalked out.
When the noise level in the room suddenly escalated, Andrea became acutely aware of the scene she just caused. She pushed the plate away and turned to Miles.
~*~
Andrea’s face, which moments before wore high color, had suddenly gone pale. She looked lost and frightened.
He had watched the scene unfold. From a subtle change in her carriage, he knew when the food had arrived that something was amiss. He could not hear their conversation over the other diners’ voices, but it looked as if he was scolding her. When she turned her head down and placed her hands in her lap, the man had the gall to smile at her downturned face. Miles’s blood began to boil that he would treat her that way. When he ripped the naan from her hands and threw it to the ground, Miles was on the verge of going over there to pummel the smirk off the lord’s face, but settled back in his chair when Andrea stood up.
“I need to go to my cabin,” she whispered, setting her hand on his arm.
“I’ll escort you.”
Andrea kept her head high through the dining room. Miles stopped and spoke to the maître d’. “Have Phillip send Miss James’s maid to her room and bring a sandwich at his earliest convenience.”
“Yes, sir.”
Miles turned back to Andrea, but she was gone. He rushed after her and caught up with her as he stepped on deck. Andrea stood at the rail gasping at the salty air, her hand at her collarbone.
“I can’t….”
Andrea fainted before she finished her sentence.
Miles swore. He was not near enough to catch her. Then he cursed her corset and Ironwood as he scooped her up off the deck. Her long limbs dangled unwieldily, making it difficult to maneuver through doorways and narrow gangways.
“My room,” Miles said to the guards who took one look at them and reached for her doorknob. “Her maid is on her way. Send her in immediately.”
“Shall I go for the doctor?” one of the burly sailors asked.
“Yes.”
He suspected she fainted from a combination of having her breathing restricted as well as the distress she suffered. Although he doubted they truly needed the doctor, he would feel better hearing it from someone knowledgeable. As gently as he could, he carried her in and placed her upon his bed. He could not say why he had taken her to his suite. Perhaps, it was because it was larger or perhaps he did not want to be asked to leave. He knew if he took her to her stateroom, as soon as Ruth and the doctor arrived, he would be pushed out the door, left alone to worry in his quarters. He needed to be there the moment she woke up, to see her eyes and hear her voice, so he would know she was all right.
Miles wet a cloth and bathed her face. After a few seconds, her eyes began fluttering.
“Andi… Andi, open your eyes.”
Her pale blue eyes opened wide, darting about to get her bearings. Her face scrunched up as realization dawned on her.
“I fainted.”
“The doctor and Ruth will be here in a moment.”
She tried to sit up, but Miles placed his hand on one shoulder. “Just rest until they get here.”
A small amount of blood rushed to her face, staining her pale cheeks. “You are making a fuss over nothing. Women sometimes faint if they overexert when wearing a tight corset. I have fainted from it before, that’s why Papa forbade me.”
Miles dabbed at her face with a wet cloth again. He needed to touch her—reassure himself that she was all right. “I can see why he did. It’s rather terrifying to have someone you—you care for, fall unconscious mid-sentence.”
“I’m quite recovered,” she said. “I fainted in the garden once with no one about. When I woke up, I sat for a moment, and then went about my business. No one ever knew.”
“Criminy, Andrea.”
“I don’t need a doctor. Although, I hope Ruth arrives soon. I’m dying to get out of this deuced thing.” She pushed away his hand with the cloth. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel clammy.”
Miles crossed the room to the basin and spread out the washcloth to dry. “Andrea, I need to ask you something,” he said with gravity. “It’s vital that you answer honestly.”
She grabbed his second pillow and put it behind her to help her sit up. “I’ll try.” She bit her lip, her eyes wide.
He stood across the room from her, his expression unyielding. “What was wrong with the food?”
She looked at him a moment until the wide smile spread across his face and she realized he was trying to make her laugh.
“Nothing I know of. I didn’t eat it.”
“You don’t like curry?”
“It’s not even a matter of liking it or not. I have eaten curry at least three or four times and I have gotten sick every time. No one else got sick, just me.”
He moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Please, tell me you are finished with that man.”
“I doubt he’d ask again, but if he does, I’ll tell him to go to Perdition.”
Miles noticeably relaxed. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he smiled compassionately at her. “If I was unkind, I’m sorry. I cannot prove it, but I believe that first time he approached you, he sent me the note about the engine. I asked everyone and no one had sent it. I also think he had his valet block Ruth’s view of you, so she wouldn’t follow you.”
“It doesn’t surprise me. I didn’t want to drink that third glass of sherry, but he badgered me into it.”
“I was more frightened for you that night, than I was just now when you fainted.”
She placed her hand over his. He turned his hand over and held hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. I should have listened to the little voice in my head about him. He kept saying odd things, things that didn’t seem normal, but all I could think about was his title and how pleased Mama would be.”
“Your mother doesn’t have to live with him the rest of her life. You do,” he said. “You need to stop trying to please her.”
Miles could sense her sudden withdrawal. “Mama wants what’s best for me. Father has the means to offer a dowry large enough to ensure I am well cared for all my days. I do not need to marry for money. You just don’t understand how my children would benefit from an advantageous match.”
Miles stood up and began pacing the room. “A title will not make you happy in the long run. Your sons will ultimately inherit your father’s business. They do not need to possess a title to be powerful men. A title will not ensure your childr
en’s happiness or character. Your children will grow up to be like you and your husband. If he is a pompous lazy philanderer, that will be the example set forth for your children.”
Andrea slid her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. “Possessing a title does not make a man any of those things. I have met many titled gentlemen who ran successful farms and businesses. And many who had happy marriages with wonderful children. You are just so blinded by your desire to see me marry your cousin that you will say anything.”
Miles threw his arms in the air with frustration. “You couldn’t be more wrong! I want to see you happy. Nothing more. You are focused on the wrong things. If a man you could love stood waving his arms in front of you like this,” he said, making wide sweeps of his hands, “you wouldn’t notice.”
“There is no such thing as love,” she said softly as a knock came at the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I am quite recovered.”
28
Andrea was relieved to get an invitation from Captain Bloodworthy to join him at dinner. She had resigned herself to the fact that Miles did not want her. He had his revenge, and now he was trying to foist her off on any man on the ship who might be willing to marry her. In the days that followed her disastrous dinner with the Marquess of Ironwood, Miles had paraded nearly every respectable man aboard in front of her. It became apparent that everyone had heard that Clyde Sully forced his way into her room and knew of her escapade with Miles in the crow’s nest. As a result, the gentlemen whom she might like to meet were not interested in meeting her. And the ones who wanted to pursue her, only did so for base reasons, or because they were interested in her dowry.
Defeated, she had no choice but to wait for her parents to fetch her home. She no longer had delusions of having a season—if nothing else, running away from home had no doubt caused such a scandal that she was going to be the subject of the foulest speculation society could muster. Gossips would say there was a man, or perhaps even a baby. No man would want her now. Andrea might as well accept it; she would grow old as a spinster unless a desperate impoverished man would take her for the money. Society had a long memory—one that would not soon forget her escapades. Her downfall lay at her own feet.
She was thankful for the dinner invitation from the captain. Facing Miles and his endless line of unmarried men, was extremely hard to endure. She had decided when she saw him next, she would ask him to stop inviting the potential suitors to dine with them. Her pride could not bear any more humiliation.
Miles arrived at the dining room early. He always looked forward to seeing Andrea. She had been rather distant since the day he had taken her up to the crow’s nest and invited Walter Garson to dine with them. Mealtime became the only occasion he was assured of seeing her. Wearing her beautiful lavender gown, she arrived at the maître d’s podium. A slight smile graced his lips when Miles spied her, and died moments later when the maître d’ escorted her to the captain’s table.
Andrea felt his eyes on her from the moment she entered the dining room, but she saw no reason to acknowledge his presence. The maître d’ ushered her to a chair next to a large blond man. Both he and the captain stood as she was seated. If she thought it odd that the captain introduced her to Martin Ness and no one else, she did not mention it.
Andrea could not help but notice how attractive the man was. His hair was a lighter shade of blond than hers and very shiny, as if the sun had bleached it. His skin was tanned and his eyes were a light shade of brown with golden flecks in them. He was unlike the men she met so far who were pale and soft muscled. Martin Ness was a man accustomed to physically demanding work.
“Miss James, I am pleased to meet you at last,” Martin Ness said, extending his hand.
His smile was friendly and contagious and for once Andrea did not feel uncomfortable meeting a man. She smiled widely at him, genuinely.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” she said, knowing that she would have remembered his tall wide shouldered physique if she had seen him on deck or in the saloon.
He laughed. “That’s because I’m not a passenger.”
“You’re not?” she blurted. She was confused now. He was obviously not a common sailor as the sailors would never be invited to dine with passengers and he did not wear any type of uniform like the officers.
“I’m an engineer.”
“Did you design the engine?” she asked, her interest immediately sparked.
Martin laughed at her enthusiasm. “I’m afraid not. I supervised the build. I am here to see that the engine is performing the way it should. Until I have the men trained to maintain and repair it, should anything go awry, I will stay with the ship.”
“How exciting.”
Martin laughed again. “I suppose all men like to hear themselves talk, and instructing others in the mechanical issues, does give oneself an inflated sense of intelligence.”
It was Andrea’s turned to laugh. “I meant working with steam engines. I grew up thinking hot water was only good for bathing and cooking, and now it’s carrying this whole ship across the ocean faster than any ship with sails. Mr. Huntington was going to show me the engine, but he never got around to it.”
“Perhaps you would allow me after dinner.” Then as an afterthought, he turned to Levi. “With your permission, of course.”
Levi spared a quick glance at Miles before he acquiesced. “Aye, as long as her chaperone is with you.”
Andrea felt like asking, which one? Miles was never too far away. At times when she strolled on deck with potential suitors, he strolled with Ruth a few paces behind. Most of the time, she’d rather be walking with Miles than the gentleman who accompanied her.
“Is your father as interested in the future of steam as you?”
Andrea looked thoughtfully at Martin Ness, only mildly surprised to find out he knew her father.
“I know he believes there is a future in steam, but he’s waiting to see if his competitors change over first. Wind is free. With steam, you have to pay for fuel, be it coal or wood, which will eat into his profits. He’s afraid he cannot stay competitive if he pays for fuel.”
Martin Ness sat back in his chair and nodded. He strummed his fingers on the table as he thought about Sebastian James’s point of view. “Has he factored in the savings of his labor cost?”
“Labor cost savings are countered by the space taken up by the engine and fuel. There would be less room for cargo.”
Martin laughed again. “Build a bigger ship.”
“I have a feeling we could go back-and-forth like this all day,” Andrea said with a smile.
As their meal progressed, it became apparent Martin Ness and Captain Bloodworthy knew each other as they spoke of mutual friends.
“So, how do you know each other?” Andrea asked.
“My father served aboard Levi’s brother’s ship for many years.”
“My brother, Jackson, is married to Morty’s cousin, Charlie.”
“Charlie?”
“A girl named Charlie,” Levi explained. “Charlie and Jackson are actually some of your father’s competitors. Have you heard of the Sinclair-Kirk Shipping Company?”
“I have not, but I would imagine my father has,” Andrea speculated. “Would I be too forward if I asked you why you work for Mr. Huntington instead of your brother?”
Levi took a drink from his water before answering. “I’ve been at sea most of my adult life working for Charlie. I just wanted a new challenge. My wife likes that I will be home regularly and I find this steamer has many challenges that hold my interest.”
29
Martin Ness escorted Andrea to the engine room after their meal. Andrea didn’t need to worry about her dress, because Martin did not let her go further than inside the door. He shouted over the noise, explaining how the steam engine worked. They watched for only a moment as the stokers shoveled coal into the firebox of the furnace below the boiler.
As they left the engine room, Andrea felt strangely sad. She had wan
ted to be there with Miles, questioning him about his hopes and dreams for the future of this new engineering. Although Martin had done a good job of explaining how it worked, she wanted to hear it all from Miles, see the way his eyes lit up and his smile widened.
Andrea saw Ruth positioned discreetly about ten steps behind her as they strolled, and Miles walked a few paces behind her.
“He’s like a little puppy following you around,” Martin said gently. “It must be true love.”
Andrea sighed. “I wish it were. He just worries about my safety after what happened with Clyde Sully.” She wrapped her hand around his arm. “If he was interested in me, he would have made an offer rather than helping me look for a husband.”
Looking out over the ocean, she could not help but feel sorrow tug at her heart. “You’re not looking for a wife, are you?”
“I’m not the one you want.”
She sighed again. “No,” she said, and heard her voice cracking slightly.
Martin patted the hand resting on the crook of his arm and leaned his head closer. “Then let’s make him jealous,” he said quietly.
Martin stopped, turned to her, lifted her chin and kissed her for several long seconds until her maid cleared her throat.
“That was very nice,” he said as he pulled away. A moment later, his arms went around her, and he maneuvered her in such a way that his back was to Miles, blocking his view of Andrea. He lowered his head, but did not kiss her again. He inclined his head one way and then the other so from Miles’s vantage point, it looked like they were in a passionate embrace.
When Martin Ness began to moan, Ruth verbally protested to part them.
“Miss James, Mr. Ness, please.”
“Whatever you do, don’t look at him,” Martin whispered as they separated.
She could not help but giggle as they began strolling again. “Oh my, but it is warm tonight,” Andrea said, her mood suddenly bolstered.
“Miss James, I think I should walk you to your cabin before I do something stupid.”
Miles Before I Sleep Page 22
