A Rebellious Lady for the Brokenhearted Duke

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A Rebellious Lady for the Brokenhearted Duke Page 22

by Leah Conolly


  “We have enough shillings to last the month, or even to board a ship to the New World, but not nearly enough for the entire journey,” she said.

  Ruth nodded, not questioning her mistress’s choice to travel to the New World.

  “Perhaps we could slip aboard a ship in some crates,” Ruth suggested.

  Charlotte smiled.

  “Ruth, darling, you are a genius,” she said, embracing her maid.

  Trying to stay out of sight, the two women slipped along the docks largely unnoticed, searching for any crates near a ship that might be headed to their destination.

  Luck favored them once more, and they found crates that were clearly being loaded onto a ship further down the dock. After determining that none of the ship’s crew was nearby, they slipped into a crate that had the top askew. Fortunately, it was largely empty, save for some straw and rough clothing. The women settled inside and pulled the crate lid closed. Soon enough, the crate began to move and rise off the ground. Charlotte’s heart was pounding in her ears, and she put a hand over her mouth to muffle her surprised grunt when she heard voices just outside of the crate. Then, she watched in horror as the next events unfolded.

  As the crate rose in the air, the top, which they had not successfully secured to the box, toppled off and fell to the ground. The sound attracted the attention of a man, the one whom she presumed had done the talking. The man stared at them in shock, but only for a moment.

  “Halt,” he said, holding up his hand to the crew members who were attempting to load the cargo. He grabbed the crate and helped lower it to the ground. Once it was secure, he pulled Ruth and Charlotte up by their elbows.

  “Well, well,” he said, smirking. “What have we here?”

  Chapter 2

  Duncan Lancaster looked over the invoice yet again. He had tallied up the total number of crates and wine bottles he was supposed to have, but he was still coming up one short. It was not the worst thing that could have happened, and certainly not the biggest mistake that had ever occurred with one of his shipments, but it was perplexing, nonetheless. He supposed that he could simply give orders for an extra crate of wine in his next shipment, but he would have to refigure his books in the meantime.

  “Are you certain that there is no other place the wine could be?” he asked the ship’s head crewman.

  The man shook his head, looking sheepish.

  “No, milord,” he said. “We have searched everywhere. I believe there was a clerical error, and we are simply short one crate of wine. I am terribly sorry, Lord Willeton.”

  Duncan glanced at the invoice again, then looked back at the man. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “It is alright, Jack,” he said, smiling warmly. “These things happen. It is not your fault.”

  Jack smiled back at him gratefully.

  “Thank you, milord,” he said. “I will ensure that this does not happen next time. I guarantee you that.”

  Duncan nodded and smiled again.

  “I know that you will,” he said.

  He folded the invoice up and tucked it into his pocket so that he would not lose it before he could make the proper adjustments to his books when he returned home. Then, he moved in and began to help the ship crew load the remaining crates of wine. They were ahead of schedule, which would serve him well, since the shipment would be arriving with one crate missing. He made a mental note to write a letter to the customer, informing the man of the shortage and promising to send extra wine, free of charge, in the man’s next order. The customer was one with whom he had worked for years, and he felt sure that this arrangement would be more than satisfactory.

  Moments later, he heard a commotion. He looked up from the crate he was handling and saw two of the ship’s crew members pointing and shouting about a crate that was lifted a few feet off of the ground. Duncan frowned, not understanding the dilemma. He abandoned his own box and approached the men.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  The men stared at him with matching expressions of shock. Duncan moved closer, noticing that the lid to the suspended crate was lying on the ground. He looked up, and his own mouth fell open. Inside it were two young, terrified women.

  Duncan jumped into action.

  “Lower that crate at once,” he shouted to the stunned shipmates. His authoritative tone snapped them out of their trances, and they scattered. Within moments, the crate had been gently lowered back down to the dock on which it previously rested. Duncan, seeing the women were now safe from grievous harm, took a moment to collect himself. Then, he approached the crate.

  “Well, well,” he said, bemusement replacing his earlier surprise and concern. “What have we here?”

  The two women exchanged a fleeting look of terror before attempting to flee from the crate. However, the hems of their dresses got caught on the rim of the box, and he was easily able to grab their arms gently as they tried to pull them free.

  “Correct me if I am wrong,” he said slowly, “but the two of you do not look like any bottles of Port wine I have ever seen.”

  The women looked at the ground, not meeting his gaze.

  “This is quite the predicament, you see,” he continued. “For I found you in a crate amongst cargo that I am having shipped to a very important customer. The trouble is, what I was supposed to have here was another crate full of wine. It certainly does make me wonder if, perhaps, the rest of my wine was not misplaced, after all, but rather stolen.”

  At this, the blond woman’s head snapped up, and she met his gaze directly.

  “Such a crime would make us rather foolish. Why would we climb into the very crate from which we stole and try to sneak aboard the same ship onto which it was being loaded?” She patted the pockets of her unremarkable, somewhat dirty dress. “And besides, where on earth would we have managed to hide so much wine?”

  Duncan chewed his lip to stifle a laugh. Of course, he knew well that these women could not have stolen or hidden all that wine between the time the shipment arrived and the time he found them inside the crate. He did, however, wonder why they would break the law and risk punishment by stowing away amongst a ship’s cargo.

  “Well, it was rather foolish to try to illegally board a ship without paying for your journey,” he said. “Either foolish or desperate. I am merely trying to discern which.”

  The women exchanged a look, and the blond fell silent once more. Duncan noticed how beautiful she was, and he could not help wondering what on earth would lead to her taking such a dangerous risk.

  “We really are terribly sorry,” the blond said. “But you must believe that we are not thieves.”

  Duncan swallowed another chuckle.

  “Stealing away on a ship without paying is theft, young miss,” he said.

  The woman blushed again, and Duncan felt bad for the shame that came over her face.

  “We are truly sorry,” she repeated, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.

  Duncan thought for a moment. He did not wish to see them arrested, but he did need to know why they were trying to stow away on his ship. Whoever and whatever they were, they were clearly far from dangerous, and if they were in some kind of trouble, even with the authorities, he wished to help them in whatever way he could.

  To his surprise, the brunette looked right at him.

  “Is there anything we can do to correct this situation?” she asked. Her voice was timid but steady. “We truly meant no harm. We just had no other choice.”

  Duncan looked at her, appreciating the direct way the women spoke, despite how obviously scared and uncomfortable they were.

  “Well, that depends,” he said.

  The women looked at each other once more, and then back at him.

  “On what does it depend?” the brunette asked.

  “On how honest you are with me about what you were doing in the crate,” he said. “And why exactly you had no other choice but to stowaway on my ship.”

  The women looked at each
other with identical expressions of fear and worry.

  Chapter 3

  Charlotte stared at the man before her, terrified. Her mind fumbled for any feasible reason as to why they were hiding in a cargo crate, but she came up with nothing. She dared to glance at Ruth, whose face was red and streaked with tears. She prayed that her maid would not suffer, as her only true crime had been being unwaveringly faithful to her mistress.

  “Please,” she said. “Punish me, if you must. But release my friend. This was all my idea. She wanted nothing to do with it.”

  The man folded his arms across his chest and studied the women.

  “Even if that were true, I caught you both trying to smuggle aboard my ship. Not just you,” he said. “I do not get to decide who gets to evade justice, and who deserves it.”

  He began pacing in front of the women, and for a brief moment, Charlotte considered trying once more to flee. However, she felt sure that they would again fail, and any punishment they received would likely be far worse if they continued trying to run. “But I believe that the constable would be of great help to me in that department. And, unless you don’t start being honest with me, I am afraid that I will have no choice but to call him and explain what has transpired here.”

  Charlotte bit her lip in an effort not to join her maid . She knew she must tell this man something, but she was still at a loss for an explanation. She could not tell him who she really was. Even though Christine was already on her way to France, if word got back to her father that Charlotte was still in London, and that she had not kept her word to marry the Comte, her father would see to it that both she and Christine were in as much trouble as the law would allow. And, if she did not tell this man standing in front of her something that he would accept, he might do the same.

  She took a deep, shaky breath, and met the gentleman’s gaze once more.

  “My name is Christine Becker,” she began. As she spoke, she also tried to think of a way to keep Ruth out of it. She felt sure that she could also not give the man her maid’s real name, either, but she needed more time to figure out how to protect her maid and remove her from the gentleman’s scrutiny. “I am the daughter of a baron who disowned me for falling in love with a lowly traveler, who ended up leaving me shortly after my father cast me out. Since then, I have been forced to scavenge on the streets, because I have no money.” She paused to take another breath and buy herself a few more moments. She was trying her best to remember Christine’s tale, but her fear and shame were clouding her mind. She knew that even a single wrong detail could be the end of her charade, which would mean that Ruth’s and her fates would likely be far worse than marrying a scoundrel Comte.

  Floundering, she decided that she would add a small piece of the truth into her tale. “I have nowhere else to go, with a father who does not want me and a man who no longer loves me. So, I was simply trying to find a way to get to the New World and start over.”

  The man’s eyes flickered with what Charlotte felt sure was amusement, but if it was, it was well concealed. He nodded slowly, glancing at Ruth. Charlotte’s heart fell into her stomach.

  “And what about your friend here?” he asked. “Is she on the run as well?”

  Ruth tensed up, and Charlotte shook her head.

  “This is Ruthie,” she said, wincing at once. Why had she not come up with something else? Ruthie was too close to her maid’s real name. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She decided to remain as honest as possible. “She is my maid.”

  The man looked at her skeptically.

  “If you have no money, how can you pay a maid?” he asked.

  Ruth spoke at last.

  “I agreed to be her maid in exchange for an opportunity to go to the New World and receive the same opportunities Christine,” she said quietly.

  Charlotte said a silent prayer of gratitude for Ruth’s quick thinking. She and Ruth had known each other since they were children. Ruth and her mother had worked for Charlotte’s family since both were young girls. After her mother died when they were in their early teens, Ruth stayed on as Charlotte’s lady’s maid. Truthfully, she was glad that Ruth had fought to stay behind with her, instead of going to France with Christine, though she also felt guilty because she knew how excited Ruth had been about France.

  The gentleman continued to study the women, his expression unreadable. Charlotte felt sure that he did not believe a word of what they had told him, and that he was about to turn them over to the authorities. She cursed herself for being so impulsive and getting them into such a mess.

  At long last, the gentleman broke the silence.

  “Well, I hate to bear bad news,” he began, and Charlotte’s heart sank. Of course, he was going to have them arrested. What man in his right mind would not?

  He glanced behind them at the crate in which they had sought refuge, and he chuckled. Charlotte was confused. Did he find stowaways humorous?

  “But you were never going to make it to the New World. Not on this ship, anyway,” he continued.

  Charlotte exchanged a look with Ruth.

  “I do not understand,” she said. “There are ships that sail there from this dock, are there not?”

  The gentleman nodded.

  “Oh yes, indeed,” he said. “But I am afraid that my ships only go to France.”

  Charlotte’s heart sank. Of course, it would be exactly her luck that the one way out of her predicament would place her exactly where she did not wish to be in the first place.

  The gentleman was paying much closer attention to her reactions than Charlotte would have preferred. He was studying her with great care, and she did her best to hide her disappointment. However, she could not blame him for his close scrutiny. She could not imagine how she might feel if she were in his position. Nevertheless, she felt her cheeks growing hotter and wished that he would either turn them in to the authorities or let them go.

  At last, the man spoke.

  “What is it about the New World that was so important?” he asked.

  “It’s a new world,” Charlotte muttered without thinking.

  “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

  Charlotte shook her head, the additional embarrassment of her careless utterance infuriating her.

  “I know that I have no right to press you, as we are certainly in no position to demand anything of you right now,” Charlotte began.

  “You are correct about that,” the gentleman said gently. “But that does not mean that you do not deserve the chance to speak your piece.”

  Charlotte took a deep breath, wondering at the motives of this kind, handsome gentleman.

  “What I mean to ask is, what is it that you plan to do with us?” she asked. “We have caused a spectacle for long enough. If you wish to arrest us, we could hardly blame you. But if not, I think that we would all benefit from a quick end to this public display.”

  The gentleman chuckled.

  “I can appreciate the way you think,” he said. “And you are not wrong, with any of the things you say.”

  Charlotte felt relief wash over her. She could not begin to guess what their fate would be, but at least the man seemed reasonable and rational. She didn’t press her luck, however, she remained silent and watched the man with careful eyes.

  Instead of answering her inquiry right away, however, he clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing. Charlotte thought that her heart might explode in her chest, and one glance at Ruth told her that her maid felt the same way. She bit her lip to keep from repeating her earlier questions, all the while praying that the situation would resolve sooner rather than later.

  All at once, the gentleman looked at her again. For the first time, Charlotte noticed the kindness in his eyes, and how prominent the laugh lines around his mouth were. A chill went down her spine, and she found herself relaxing more than anyone in her position probably should. She sighed and awaited his next words.

  “Here are my thoughts,” he said.

&n
bsp; Charlotte and Ruth both nodded, neither daring to exchange looks again.

  “The two of you are quite apparently not thieves,” he continued. “Nor, as I see it, are you criminals.”

  Ruth uttered a quiet sob. Charlotte bit her lip and stayed silent, opting to send up silent prayers of both gratitude and wonderance over this turn of events.

  “What I think I shall do is offer you some employment,” he said at last.

  It took Charlotte a moment to understand what the gentleman had said. She had expected many things, but the offer of a job was not one of them.

 

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