After the Devon Lady’s captain and crew had been delivered to Dover, the ship’s home port, the Zephyr sailed on to London. They docked on a crisp, sunny winter morning, port formalities were taken care of, and then it was time to go home.
Rory was almost jumping up and down with excitement as the two carriages Gabriel had ordered arrived at the Zephyr’s berth. The small one was for Suzanne, who chose to go to relatives in London rather than confront the uncertainties of a France recovering from decades of war. She gave hugs and thanks to her new friends, then glided down the gangway to the waiting carriage, her head high and the gown and cloak she’d sewn on the voyage home as elegant as that of any Parisian lady.
The larger carriage had been ordered by Gabriel to take him and Rory and Constance and Jason to Lawrence House. Rory wrapped the cloak she’d made around her shoulders and skipped down the gangway, one hand skimming the rope railing. “I can’t wait to see my parents! With Parliament in session, they’ll surely be in town.”
She stepped onto the dock, then turned and took a firm grasp on Gabriel’s arm when he joined her. “They’ll approve of the fact that I’m now a proper married woman. It will be the first thing I’ve done in years that they approve of!”
Gabriel laughed and pulled her under his arm. “I think that mostly they’ll just be very happy to have you home, safe and sound, my lady bright.”
Constance, who was on Rory’s other side with Jason next to her, said nervously, “I’m not at all sure they’ll be happy to have you bringing me along as a previously unknown relative from the wrong side of the blanket.”
“They’ll be surprised but pleased,” Rory predicted. “You are a Lawrence, and it’s only right that you be accepted as such.”
Jason grinned. “She’s a Landers now and there is no question of her acceptance. But I agree with Rory, my love. You should take this chance to meet your relations. We’ll be leaving for Maryland in a few days and you won’t be back for some time to come.”
Rory and Constance exchanged a wistful glance. “But you will be back,” Rory said. “And we’ll visit you. There’s an advantage to both of us marrying sea captains!”
* * *
When the carriage deposited the two couples by Lawrence House in Mayfair, Gabriel helped Rory from the carriage, saying, “Aristocratic London being what it is, it won’t surprise you to know that Vance House is only about two blocks away.”
His lady wife said blithely, “Perhaps we can pay a visit there after we meet with my family.”
“Let’s have one family crisis at a time!” he said, alarmed.
She gave him a “we’ll see” look, then scampered up the steps. “It’s been almost four years since I saw my parents. So much has happened!”
Gabriel followed at a slightly more sedate pace, with Constance and Jason a step behind. Constance held tightly to her husband’s arm. Even if Lord and Lady Lawrence were less welcoming than Rory predicted, Jason was at Constance’s side and that was really all that mattered.
Rory banged the door knocker like an impatient child. She’d wanted to surprise her parents, so she hadn’t sent a message ahead. Gabriel smiled, thinking how much he loved her enthusiasm and passion for life. Her passion in general.
After several long minutes, the door was opened by a stiff-looking butler. “Greetings, Hastings,” Rory said blithely. “Are my parents at home?”
Stiffness vanished as the butler gasped, “Lady Aurora!” His voice rose to a shout. “Lady Aurora is home!”
Pandemonium broke out and the vestibule of the house rapidly filled with people. If there had ever been any doubt about how well Rory was loved, it was instantly dispelled. Gabriel, Constance, and Jason stood out of the way while the reunion took place. Lady Lawrence shrieked and fell into her daughter’s arms, and the earl was only a few steps behind. Gabriel thought it just as well that none of Rory’s brothers and sisters were present, or the hugging might have turned lethal.
As the noise abated, Lady Lawrence blotted her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief and finally noticed her daughter’s companions. “Captain Hawkins, you succeeded in bringing my baby home! God bless you, sir!”
She kissed him with an enthusiasm that strongly suggested whom Rory had inherited her exuberance from.
He bowed. “The pleasure was all mine, Lady Lawrence. I hope you won’t mind that I exceeded my commission and married your daughter.”
The countess gasped and the earl stared. “Well, you have been busy, Aurora!” said Lady Lawrence. “Come into the drawing room where we can talk and you can introduce your other companions. Hastings, send refreshments in.”
One hand on the back of Rory’s waist, Gabriel followed her into the gracious room that opened from the vestibule on the right. As their hostess invited them to take seats, Lord Lawrence targeted Gabriel. “I look forward to becoming better acquainted, Captain Hawkins,” he said sternly.
“As do I, my lord. But my full name is Hawkins Vance, so your daughter is Lady Aurora Vance.”
The earl frowned. “Vance. Vance? Are you related to Admiral Lord Vance?”
“He’s my grandfather.” Gabriel smiled cheerfully. “But he’s disowned me, so you won’t have to deal with him.”
The earl blinked. “We’ll talk later, Captain Vance.”
“Don’t worry, Papa.” Rory settled onto a sofa in a flurry of skirts and pulled Gabriel down beside her. “My husband is the bravest and most honorable of men. You’ll like him, and not only because he’s taking me off your hands.”
“He must be a brave man,” her father said wryly, but his gaze on his daughter was very fond.
Completely at ease, Rory gestured to the sofa set at right angles to her own, where Constance and Jason were sitting together. “Mama, Papa, this is my writing partner, traveling companion, and best friend, Constance Hollings Landers, and her husband Captain Jason Landers. He’s an American and was Gabriel’s first mate.”
The earl offered his hand. “An American, you say? A good thing that the Treaty of Ghent was signed on Christmas Eve and our countries are no longer at war, Captain.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Jason said as he stood to shake hands.
A cart with cakes, sandwiches, and tea appeared with startling speed, pushed by the wide-eyed butler himself. Lady Lawrence thanked and dismissed him and lifted the silver teapot to begin pouring tea. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Landers.”
Then she stopped with the pot in midair as her gaze rested on Constance. “My dear, you look more like Rory than any of her sisters do.”
“It’s not an accident, Mama,” Rory said calmly. “She’s my first cousin. Papa’s niece.”
After a frozen moment, the earl said, “Let me guess. You’re the daughter of my wastrel youngest brother, Frederick?”
“Yes,” Constance said in an almost inaudible voice. “Rory said you’d want to meet me, but truly, I’m not here to cause trouble. My husband and I will be sailing for America in a few days.”
“My dear girl!” Lady Lawrence rose and crossed the room to give her a swift hug. “Of course, we want to meet you! The only question is why we didn’t know about you years ago!”
“Indeed,” her husband agreed. “Did Freddie make proper arrangements for your upbringing? He wasn’t a bad fellow, but he could be dreadfully careless.”
“I doubt that Uncle Frederick did anything beyond mention Constance’s existence to Grandmother Lawrence,” Rory said tartly. “You know how she hated scandal. Constance’s mother died in childbirth, so Grandmother placed the baby with a foster family, leaving a small stipend for her keep until she was eighteen, and told no one else of Constance’s existence. My cousin has not been treated well by the Lawrences.”
Blushing violently, Constance said, “Indeed, I expect nothing! I was blessed with the gift of Rory’s friendship. That is more than enough.”
“Nonetheless, the family owes you a dowry and recognition,” Lord Lawrence said gravely. “My m
other died two years ago, and I regret that she kept her silence about you to the end. But blood is blood and you’re clearly a Lawrence. I shall arrange a belated dowry for you, along with my most sincere apologies.”
“That is not necessary!” Constance gasped.
“Yes. It is.” Clearly, the earl had made up his mind, and that was that.
Gabriel was liking Rory’s parents. If she got her exuberance from her mother, surely her fair-mindedness came from her father.
Lady Lawrence returned to her chair. “Aurora, you said Mrs. Landers is your writing partner?”
“Yes, we wrote several outrageous romantic adventure stories together,” Rory said. “Aunt Diana in India liked them and said she’d send the stories to a publisher she knew in London. She’d use the pseudonym Countess Alexander, but give your names as the business contacts. Did anything ever come of that? Is the publisher interested?”
Her mother laughed delightedly. “Your books are the toast of London! Two were published while you were returning from India and being captured by corsairs, and the third is scheduled. I believe that Diana sent six stories, so the public is waiting breathlessly.”
“I made sure the contracts were fair,” Lord Lawrence said. “Can’t trust publishers—they’re a low breed.”
“But this one knows good stories when he sees them.” Lady Lawrence’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I couldn’t put the books down, though I’m very glad they were published under a false name. I’d never have heard the end of it from the ladies of London if it was known the author of The Warrior Maiden is my daughter!”
“Daughter and niece. We worked together, Mama.” Rory leaped to her feet and caught her cousin’s hands. “We did it, Constance! We did it! We’re famous authors!”
“Surely that’s infamous authors,” Constance said with a laugh. “That’s a grand incentive for us to keep writing even though we’ll have to do it long distance.” Releasing Rory’s hands, she returned to her seat by Jason. “I wonder if the publisher would be interested in my children’s stories. They’re going to feature miniature goats,” she added for the edification of her newly acquired aunt and uncle.
“I don’t know about that,” Lord Lawrence said. “But there’s quite a tidy sum waiting for the two of you at Barclays bank. Romantic rubbish sells very well.”
“Show some respect, Papa!” Rory said sternly. “You may not consider our stories great literature, but they are not easy to write.”
“They’re certainly popular with your mother and sisters and friends,” he admitted. “Though I’m not entirely sure why.”
“Because the heroine always gets what she wants,” Constance said, then blushed and ducked her head when everyone looked at her.
“Enough of business,” Lady Lawrence decreed. “It’s time for tea and cakes and for you to tell us everything that happened. As long as it isn’t too frightening.”
Rory squeezed Gabriel’s hand, and he guessed that she was mentally editing the events into a less alarming story. Their adventures in Barbary were described with a lighthearted flourish over the refreshments.
When she finished, Rory swallowed the last of her tea, then rose to her feet. “After all that talking, I need some fresh air. Come, Gabriel, let’s go for a short walk.” When her mother started to protest, Rory said reassuringly, “We won’t be gone long.”
Wary of her motives, Gabriel rose and followed her into the vestibule. As she collected her hooded cloak and he donned his hat, he said, “You want me to call on my grandfather, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice turning grave now that she wasn’t performing for her family. “You don’t have to, of course, but will there ever be a better time?”
He thought about that as he took her arm and escorted her outside, turning left so they could walk the short blocks to Vance House. “I suspect you’re right,” he said slowly after they’d turned the first corner. “His anger and disapproval have haunted me since I was a boy. I’ll never be entirely free of them, but I’m starting a new phase of my life.” He drew her closer. “I’m a married man with a wife and a cat and no longer only a sailor.” He smiled down at Rory. “To be honest, I’d like him to see how lucky I’ve been.”
Her smile affirmed that he was doing the right thing. It was time to face the past so he could move into his future. “He may not be in residence, you know.”
“Perhaps not,” she agreed. “But if he isn’t, the next time you choose to beard the old lion in his den will be easier.”
Marrying a writer meant that his wife always had something to say. Sometimes that was a mixed blessing.
In far too few minutes, they reached Vance House. The door knocker was up so perhaps his grandparents were in. The brass knocker was shaped like a sailing ship. He gave several crisp raps.
The butler answered the door more quickly than the Lawrence butler had, and he was unfamiliar. Taking the initiative, Gabriel said, “Are Admiral and Lady Vance in? If so, please tell them that Captain Gabriel Hawkins and his wife are calling.”
The authority in his voice got them admitted into the small front hall even though they didn’t have calling cards. “Wait here, Captain.”
Moments later, the butler returned and bowed. “This way, please.”
They were led to the small sitting room, as Gabriel had expected. He’d spent a good part of his childhood in this house. When they entered the room, his gaze went immediately to the small, silver-haired woman by the fire. “Grandmother!”
She looked startled, then joyous as she rose and moved across the room, her arms open. “My dear boy, what a sight for tired old eyes you are!” She was warm and soft in his arms, and he realized this moment was worth having his grandfather berate him.
A brusque throat-clearing made him look up, and he saw that his grandfather was sitting in the shadows on the other side of the fireplace. The admiral looked as if twenty years had passed, not a dozen, and Gabriel saw a telltale sagging of the left side of the old man’s face. A stroke.
He bowed respectfully. “Sir. I’ve just arrived in London and wished to present my wife to you. Lady Aurora Lawrence, the youngest daughter of Earl Lawrence.”
His grandmother turned to beam at Rory. “And what a lovely wife she is, Gabriel!”
The admiral snorted. “This would be the one they call Roaring Rory Lawrence?”
Gabriel took her hand. “Indeed, sir, it is.”
The admiral stood, looking less tall and more fragile than he had in the past. “I suppose that only a scandalous girl would accept you.”
“Sir!” Gabriel snapped. “You may say what you wish about me, you may call me a scoundrel if you please, but you will not insult my wife.”
The admiral gave a creaky laugh. “As quick tempered as you always were. I’ll admit she’s a handsome wench.”
Rory smiled sweetly. “And capable of killing a man twice my size with a sharpened whalebone busk from my stays.”
The admiral looked at her in shock, as if unable to determine whether she was joking. Deciding to ignore her comment, he returned his attention to Gabriel.
He was leaning on a cane. For the first time, Gabriel had the visceral realization that his grandfather was human, and aging. Not an angry, implacable god of war. The knowledge dissolved much of his own anger.
He said quietly, “I didn’t come here to fight with you, sir. Only to see my grandmother and introduce my wife. We’ll leave now and not bother you again. Though I do hope to see more of you, Grandmother.”
“Don’t go,” his grandfather said abruptly. “Walk with me in the garden.”
Wondering why, Gabriel said politely, “As you wish, sir.”
He opened the door at the back of the sitting room. The garden steps now had wooden railings on both sides. More proof of his grandfather’s advancing years.
The garden ran long and narrow between brick walls. At this winter season, it was largely dormant, but the paths and pruned bushes were neat.
As they walked down the central brick pathway, the admiral asked brusquely, “What have you been doing these years?”
“Sailing. Blockade running. A bit of smuggling to people I felt needed the supplies. Nothing you’d be proud to hear about. I acquired my present ship when escaping from Barbary slavery.” Gabriel’s voice took on an edge. “Though I knew you despised me, it was still a surprise that you wouldn’t ransom me out of exile. I’m told the price was quite modest.”
“I was too angry,” his grandfather said in a throaty whisper. “You were such a promising young man, the best Vance of your generation. I couldn’t bear that you threw that away to save the life of a young man who was a nobody.”
“A nobody to you, perhaps, but he was my friend. I have no regrets for what I did.” Gabriel smiled. “Rory believes I’m brave and honorable, and will defy anyone to say otherwise, even you. Her opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s.”
“She seems a spirited wench. Did she really kill a man twice her size with a bone knife?” the admiral asked with interest.
“Yes. She’s quite amazingly intrepid.”
“A good match for you then.” They reached the end of the garden path, where a bench was set in front of the wall. The admiral folded down onto the bench, so Gabriel did the same, still not quite sure what this discussion was about.
The admiral clasped his hands on the golden head of his cane, which was shaped like a seagull. “You’re heir to the barony now,” he said brusquely. “You’ll be the third Baron Vance.”
Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “What of my cousins Edmund and Peter? They were both in line to inherit before me.”
His grandfather gave a dry little sigh. “They served with honor in the Royal Navy. And died of it.”
Gabriel was silent for long moments as he remembered playing with his cousins, offspring of the admiral’s oldest son. Both of the admiral’s sons, including Gabriel’s father, had died in the service. “I’m very sorry to hear that. They were good fellows.”
“They were, and they were good officers.” The admiral gave that sigh again. “But you were the most like me. The most independent. The most pigheaded. The most likely to defeat the French if facing overwhelming odds.”
Once a Scoundrel Page 24
