Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  “Good morning, I heard you were coming for a visit,” Belinda greeted her, her ivory complexion taking on a hint of color, making it more beautiful.

  “It’s good to see you.” Ella fingered the embroidered velvet of the cape. “Isn’t this lovely?”

  “We’re taking bets on how long it lasts in the window before someone buys it.” Belinda tilted the mannequin to showcase the embroidery and richness of the fabric.

  “Not past noon would be my wager. Annabelle said the pre-made items work well in this shop.”

  “They do. We sold a tartan plaid cape and tam two days ago after being in the window for an hour. Yesterday, it was a hat with little bluebirds and a dramatic veil. My staff is struggling to get something new out every day plus keep up with the quantity of orders. Customers have come to expect a fresh window display each morning.”

  “I’m glad this shop has done so well for Annabelle and for you.” The interior, once a men’s haberdashery, was softened to suit a lady’s shop. The dark wood trim and cabinets had been repainted a soft green and the walls snowfall white. A few accents in rosy pink or gilt created a little haven of femininity.

  “Come up to the workroom,” Belinda said. “It’s not the size of Annabelle’s hive in London, but it hums along most of the time.”

  Belinda was called away to answer a question as soon as they reached the workroom so Ella wandered into the office to put her pelisse and reticule down. Tables were strewn with dress designs, notes with customer’s measurements, and invoices for material, much like Annabelle’s office in the hive. She wondered if Belinda needed some assistance with the correspondence and books.

  She picked up a stack of papers to straighten them and glanced at the columns of descriptions and prices. These weren’t dressmaker items. Instead the lists contained rope, tar, and sail cloth. Another listed pig iron, sold by the ton.

  “I see you’ve found my midnight project.” Belinda slid into the room with her quiet, graceful step.

  “Are these for the steam works?” Ella held up several papers.

  “Jim’s assistant quit last week and he doesn’t have time to respond to all these, I’m trying to help him. Unfortunately, I can only give him a few hours a day.”

  “He hasn’t hired anyone?” A plan began to ping around in Ella’s overactive mind.

  “No, finding someone he trusts is the biggest concern. These items aren’t confidential, but much of his work is.” She sat on a wooden stool and sorted through some papers. “He needs to hire an assistant who understands some basics of business, writes well, and can keep his mouth shut.”

  “Does it have to be a he?”

  “I don’t know…I just assumed.” Belinda stopped working as she picked up on Ella’s meaning. “Do you think you could work with Jim? I mean…I’m not sure what happened between you in London a few months ago, but Jim wasn’t himself when he returned. He won’t talk to me about it. He works and works. If I try to ask him anything personal, he brushes me off. He’s never done that before now.” Belinda’s kind eyes watched her face. “Did you reject him?”

  Ella shook her head. “He rejected me.” She didn’t like saying it. The truth hurt, people said, but it was inadequate. The truth sliced through her heart leaving it in ribbons.

  Belinda opened her pink, bow-shaped mouth but closed it again like someone tugging a knot tight.

  “Why does Jim think he can’t marry me?” Ella felt a little foolish whining to Jim’s sister, but if she couldn’t help him, who could? “It can’t be just the class difference. He says he’s made mistakes but won’t elaborate. What is it?”

  “It’s not for me to say exactly.” Belinda’s stress on the word exactly encouraged Ella to probe more.

  “But you could give me a hint?”

  “Some people might say that Jim was culpable in certain circumstances.” Belinda spoke slowly, choosing her words with care. “I can assure you that he was not.”

  “Do you mean the fire?” Ella wished she could recall the question the second it passed her lips. Stupid, stupid. Belinda’s face showed shock and sorrow, her body wilted and Ella feared she might faint. She should never have asked that to softhearted Belinda. According to Mr. Weatherby at the clock shop, the fire killed both their parents, but their mother in a horrific way. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Please forgive me.” Ella continued to curse her impulsive tongue until some color returned to Belinda’s face.

  “I didn’t expect you to know.” Belinda gripped the table’s edge to support herself. “I suppose Edmund mentioned it.”

  “Yes, he did.” She hoped whatever powers in the universe that tracked lies weren’t listening at the moment. Belinda didn’t need to know she had visited the inn’s site, spoken to people who knew them, and, Sweet Heaven, was aware of the name change. Revealing that much would make Belinda paler and more afflicted than she was.

  “It was a difficult time for Jim and me. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

  “Yes, but how could Jim be responsible for the fire?” The old expression “in for a penny, in for a pound” popped in her head. Since the subject was broached through her own thoughtlessness, she might as well learn something.

  “People say absurd things at times like that, but it…it bothers him.” Belinda stood when a bell rang. “I’m needed downstairs,” she said, automatically straightening her gown and smoothing her already perfect hair. She had one foot over the threshold when she turned back to Ella. “Jim’s coming by this evening, around seven, to go over some correspondence. If you want to see him…”

  “I do.” Ella nearly jumped with excitement.

  “You can go directly to the third floor where I live. There’s an outside stairway.”

  “Thank you.” This time she had a proposal for Jim he wasn’t in a position to reject. Her brother might object, but she suspected he could be won over as well if necessary.

  ****

  Jim waited in Belinda’s flat above the store. He had just time to meet with her and return to Bristol before the second shift knocked off for the night. The prototype ship was taking shape, but progress was slow. On the calendar, the launch date was less than a month away. By his calculations, running three overlapping shifts of ten hours each six days a week, they’d make it with about twenty-four hours to spare. He’d figured in time for equipment failure and setbacks, but nothing catastrophic.

  Vandalism in a storage shed a few nights back worried him. No real damage just a mess to clean up and time wasted. Time he didn’t have. He’d increased security but felt compelled to be close himself. The trips to Bath to meet with Belinda cost him time, but he couldn’t figure a way around them. He needed help, but it wasn’t fair to her. She couldn’t do extra work on top of her responsibilities here.

  A sound on the exterior staircase caught his attention. Belinda didn’t have many visitors, and the person coming wasn’t being cautious about sound. He stuffed his papers into a portfolio until he knew the identity of the guest.

  “Hello,” her voice, the voice he most wanted and least wanted to hear, called as she opened the door. Ella, dressed to attend an evening gathering, advanced toward him. He’d locked his brain against thoughts of her, crowded her out with work—tough, dirty, masculine work. It took only seconds in her presence for the emotions she evoked to flood back. Unwelcome emotions he struggled to manage.

  “What are you doing here?” Despite his rude tone, she smiled and advanced on him.

  “Your sister invited me to come. I want to speak with you about the secretary position.”

  “What?” Inexplicable disappointment coursed through him, followed by alarm. “You’re not a man.”

  “I know.” She held her arms out, inviting him to observe her figure. An invitation he didn’t want, but couldn’t help but accept. Her evening dress accentuated her slim waist and delicate skin. “Your sister isn’t a man either and she’s assisting you. Why can’t I?”

  “Because…because you can’
t.” Not brilliant, but honest. He couldn’t be near her and trust himself.

  “I’m excellent at correspondence and I can help you manage the daily business.”

  “No,” he said, but she continued.

  “Furthermore, I can be trusted. There’s some kind of secrecy surrounding the project and you know I wouldn’t reveal anything to anyone. I wouldn’t want to harm Edmund’s business interests or yours. Where are you going to find an assistant who can guarantee confidentiality?”

  She targeted his greatest concern. His secretary would know enough to compromise the project. Finding someone to be trusted would be difficult under normal circumstances. At the moment, he had no time to search for anyone who fit the requirements of the job plus have time to look into his background. “Belinda will continue…”

  “She can’t do both jobs for long,” she said, addressing his second concern. Belinda’s success in managing the dress shop surprised him after what she’d suffered in the wake of Heath’s death followed by their parents. He didn’t want to interfere in her life by asking her to do too much. Belinda deserved the chance to find her own accomplishments. “I am at your disposal. I have no plans while in Bath other than some social events, which I am happy to forgo. My aunt will understand.”

  “Your brother won’t approve,” Jim responded, counting on Richard’s pig-headedness to work in his favor.

  “If working keeps me busy and away from his pregnant wife, I think Richard would approve of me signing on to serve in the Royal Navy.” She tilted her head, making the dim light cast shadows across her face. “I will assure him that there will be nothing indiscreet. You’ve been coming here to meet with Belinda. You can just as easily come to my aunt’s house to meet with me.”

  “Your brother will object to your working with me.” He finally said exactly what he’d been thinking since she proposed this ludicrous idea. Considering what had passed between them, no sane man would let his beautiful sister do this.

  “Are you concerned about Richard or is that what you object to?” She waited for him to respond. When he didn’t, she continued with what appeared to be a practiced speech. “I’m prepared to make a formal agreement that we maintain a strictly business relationship until the prototype launches. At that time, we re-evaluate.”

  “I’m not sure…” He started an objection, but she held up a finger.

  “My proposal,” she crinkled her eyes, “I’m sorry, bad choice of words, my suggestion is reasonable and possible. You need assistance and I’m available and capable. Shall we shake on it?” She thrust her hand toward him as a man would.

  “I shall have to consult Edmund before I can fully agree.” His hand grasped hers in a light shake. He used the opportunity more to feel her touch than commit to her offer.

  “And will you consult him?” she asked, her tone businesslike and confident.

  “Yes,” he agreed, thoroughly cornered, “Edmund arrives tomorrow for a short visit. I’ll have him call on you with his decision.”

  “Excellent. My aunt is waiting in the carriage so I must go. Good night, Jim.”

  She disappeared out the door before he could wish her anything. He’d like to wish her as far from where he was as possible for her own safety. He breathed in, catching the remains of her perfume on the air. She hadn’t been within arm’s reach of him throughout most of the conversation, but he felt surrounded by her presence.

  “Is she already gone? I saw the carriage.” Belinda entered the room while he tried to sort out his emotions.

  “You knew she was coming and what she was going to suggest?” He wasn’t angry with Belinda, but she’d left him exposed when it came to Ella.

  “I did. You need more help than I can give you.” Belinda softened her tone. “You need her if I’m any judge of the situation.”

  “She’s the last thing I need.” He wanted to sound reasonable, logical, but he didn’t. “I need to complete this project without disruptions and—”

  “She’s a disruption for you?”

  “Of course she is!” Why was every female of his acquaintance against him tonight?

  “She arrived in Bath last night and was here before the shop opened this morning.” Belinda lit the oil lamp, filling the room with soft light.

  “It’s her sister’s shop.” He dismissed her point.

  “She wanted information about you.” Belinda moved around, straightening the already tidy room, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. “Have you eaten?”

  “Not hungry.” Belinda sent him a shocked look. He was always hungry.

  “What else did you talk about this morning?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

  “I thought perhaps she had rejected your offer of marriage, and I—”

  “What made you think that?”

  “You’ve stomped around like an angry bull since your return from London. You’ve refused to tell me anything. So I assumed.” Belinda set a plate in front of him. “Did you really reject her?”

  He met her question with silence, staring at the table while she gathered food for a cold supper. When meat, cheese, and bread were on the table, she sat across from him, waiting.

  “Did you?” she prompted, never raising her voice.

  “I ended whatever was…I told her a relationship wasn’t possible.” He stabbed a slice of meat with his fork, but he couldn’t convince himself to eat it.

  “If it were possible?” Belinda’s tone softened.

  He’d never been able to keep secrets when she appealed in that way so he gave in. “I’d get down on my knees and beg her to be mine.”

  “What stands in the way?”

  “You have to ask?” His sister knew everything about his life. Everything that could bring his current life to a grinding halt.

  “She doesn’t appear to care about your profession or money.”

  “Her brother will deny her a dowry and her inheritance if she marries me.”

  “You have plenty of money of your own and are making more.”

  He acknowledged that with a nod. His bank account and potential earnings in the next year were exorbitant, especially if he became Jim’s partner. “Money won’t erase the past.”

  “Maybe you worry more about it than you need to.”

  “Spencer knows about me. He’s not the type to keep a secret for long.”

  “Miserable man.” She shuddered, her food uneaten on her plate while she chewed on her lower lip.

  “What is it?” he asked, knowing she had something more to tell him.

  “I wish I had not let circumstances dictate my choices with Heath. I was afraid of what his family would say, afraid of taking a chance and letting myself love him fully. I let him go.”

  “You didn’t know he wouldn’t come back from Antigua.”

  “No. I guess that’s the point.” She gave him a faint smile. “We don’t know.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I sent a reply to Portsmouth today about the rigging.” Ella’s finger trailed down the list of her accomplishments since she’d seen Jim two evenings ago. His visits to her aunt’s house formed the highlight of her days. Since agreeing to accept her assistance a week ago, he’d come loaded with more responsibility for her each visit.

  “Thank you. Did you see the memo from Lord Uxbridge in the packet I sent to you yesterday?” He kept his head down over other papers, unwilling to make eye contact with her.

  “I did. Here’s a draft of my reply for approval.” She handed him a paper to read, smiling when he took the paper without meeting her gaze. So far her plan to keep business as business worked. Their exchanges in the library of her aunt’s home were completely emotionless on the surface. Underneath…well…underneath she wanted to toss the piles of paperwork aside and wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him.

  Except he’d run, push her aside, get the pained expression she’d often seen on his face. So she’d wait. In the meantime, she liked the work. It kept her fingers busy and gave her mind p
urpose.

  “Good, very good. Can you send it tomorrow express?”

  “Of course,” she snapped into business mode. “What else is a priority?”

  “This.” He undid the band around a large folder, letting the contents flow out onto the desk between them. “Receipts, invoices.” He shuffled through the papers. “Can you sort and document all of it?”

  “I offered to when I saw you last,” she reminded him, already organizing piles of like items.

  “Thought I’d get to it, but…” His weariness tonight was more obvious than on previous evenings.

  “Did something happen?”

  “Small fire in one of the auxiliary workshops early this morning.”

  “Anyone hurt?” She worried about him, about his workmen. It was dangerous work at any time and now with the pressure of a deadline, the possibility of accidents and injuries increased.

  “No one working in there overnight. Just a mess and the loss of some supplies.” His tone seemed defeated and annoyed.

  “Do you know what started it?”

  “I’m afraid who started it is the better question. I think it was set.”

  “That’s terrible.” A ship-sized dose of worry whisked through her veins. “It could have spread and….”

  He gave a grim shake of his head, tilted it back and closed his eyes.

  “You’re worn out,” she observed, her fingers itching to touch and caress him to take some of the burden away.

  “Not quite three weeks until the launch,” he mumbled sleepily.

  “Then, you’ll have the real ship to build.”

  “The time frame won’t be as tight and we’re working out the difficulties now.” He yawned, running a hand through his hair. With the extra time on his work, his hair wasn’t trimmed as neatly as usual. Little tufts stood up. “That project will be easier to manage.”

  “I’d like to see this one,” she said, hoping for an invitation.