Quest of Honor

by Ellie St. Clair

  Eleanor shook her head, seeing him in an entirely new light. “You are different now from when I first met you, and that has come about because you allowed yourself to be open. I believe it was your vulnerability – albeit liquor loosened your tongue and made you somewhat charming – was what began to draw me to you.”

  “You still care for me, then?” he asked, turning so that he might face her. “Even though I am – was – a Navy man? The man who chased your father?”

  Smiling, Eleanor nodded. “It is very strange how the sea brought us together, but I will not deny that my heart is filling with love for you.”

  Thomas leaned down so that his forehead pressed lightly against hers. "I love you, Eleanor. I have to be by your side; otherwise, I might lose myself again."

  “You must swear an oath of loyalty to me,” Eleanor quipped, sliding her hands up and around his neck. “Each one of my crew has done so and I cannot expect anything less from you.”

  He chuckled at the mirth in her voice, pulling her closer with a firmness that made her gasp. Heat rushed through her body, pooling in her core as his breath tickled her cheek.

  “I swear it,” he whispered, before lowering his head for a searing kiss.

  Epilogue

  Dinner began as a somewhat silent affair. They were all agog at Thomas and his wife. His wife! Marie was beside herself that Thomas had been married without the family present. Yet inside she was at war as she was also absolutely relieved that one of her children had finally chosen to be married.

  Not that Eleanor was the type of woman she would have selected for Thomas. Far from it. But he seemed quite happy, she was beautiful and polite, and Marie could swear she saw a slight bump in the front of Eleanor’s dress, signifying she may finally become a grandmother. The couple was visiting England for a short time before returning home.

  “Eleanor,” said Violet, breaking the silence. “You must tell us all about how you met Thomas. We cannot wait to hear more!”

  “Oh, it’s not much of a story,” Eleanor responded, as she split her focus between the multitude of dinner utensils in front of her and responding to Violet’s question. “I lived with my father in the Americas and I met Thomas when he was in one of the ports. Unfortunately my father passed soon afterwards.”

  “And I wanted to marry Eleanor here, with the family present,” added Thomas, taking up the story as he held Eleanor’s hand underneath the table, “However it would not have been proper for an unmarried woman to cross the sea without a chaperone, so we were married there, and then returned to inform you all in person.”

  “I still should have liked to have been present,” sniffed Marie. “I suppose we could perhaps have another ceremony. Now tell me, Thomas, why do you insist on staying on the ocean? I cannot believe that now you are not only putting yourself at risk everyday, but you are doing so on a private vessel and not as part of the Navy. You know your father will provide you with whatever funds you need to live your life.”

  “I know, Mother, but this is what I choose to do,” he responded.

  “And Eleanor?” she persisted. “How can you be happy living in a port town, at times on a ship?”

  “I find it quite enjoyable, Your Grace,” Eleanor responded with a winning smile. “Nothing quite speaks to me like being on the deck of a ship.”

  Marie humphed. “You were just at the peak of your naval career, Thomas. You could have likely moved up the ranks to Admiral.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a fair statement to make, Mother,” Thomas responded. “Besides, I thought you were against me joining the Navy.”

  “The Navy is a more admirable profession than privateer or whatever you choose to call yourself!” she said, her nose in the air. “Has Thomas told you of his successes, Eleanor? Did you know he captured the evil pirate, the relentless Captain Adams, when no one else could?”

  Thomas cringed, but Eleanor placed a hand on his leg, squeezing gently.

  "Yes, actually, I was aware of his capture of the dashing and daring Captain Adams,” she said with a smile. “But I believe all he ever really captured was the captain’s heart.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” asked Marie. “What a funny thing to say!”

  “My apologies, Your Grace,” Eleanor responded. “That must be a turn of phrase we use in the Americas. Needless to say, I am proud of Thomas and all he has achieved.”

  She turned to look at her husband. “You, darling, are one of a kind.”

  “And you, my love,” he responded, “Are a one and only.”

  Thomas’ face, now as kissed by the sun as Eleanor’s own, was so much more youthful than when she had first met him all of those months prior. The lines around his eyes had eased, and the stern look he had carried around with him had faded. He had found the freedom he had so longed for, not only in his new way of life, but in the love he had for Eleanor.

  Polly, a hopeless romantic, was fascinated by both their displays of affection as well as the thought of living across the ocean. Like her brother, she was intrigued by the tales of pirates and the high seas.

  “Eleanor,” she said, “Are you not afraid of pirates? What are they like? Are they frightening?”

  Eleanor grinned. “I don’t find them frightening at all,” she said. “I find, for the most part, pirates are not all they are made out to be.”

  Marie looked shocked at her statement, but Thomas cleanly steered the conversation in another direction.

  “Violet, sister, how is your search for a husband going?”

  Violet shot him a withering glance as their mother started ranting once more about her remaining unwed children.

  Thomas smiled, content. His family, though shocked at his life choices, were happy and his honor, to them and to himself, remained in tact. The love of his life was at his side, a woman who loved him for who he was, who had seen through the anger and bitterness to find the spirit inside that spoke to her soul.

  THE END

  CLUE OF AFFECTION

  SEARCHING HEARTS BOOK 2

  Continue the series with the story of Violet & Joshua.

  PREVIEW

  Prologue

  Patience was certainly a required virtue of a young lady, but not one that Violet overly enjoyed. She was currently waiting -- patiently -- in the ornate parlor for her Aunt Bess to arrive. She sat on the edge of the sofa as she gazed around the room at her ancestors, who stared down at her from their portraits hung on the blue walls. Violet could hardly wait for Bess to arrive at Woodsworth, the country home of the Harrington family.

  Violet never felt quite comfortable here in the drawing room, the furniture stiff, the wood polished to gleaming, and the cut glass falling in a waterfall design on the chandelier that hung from the middle of the room, accentuated by the gold corner treatments on the high ceiling’s border. It was beautiful, but this was her mother’s domain. However, Violet would wait anywhere for her aunt. Bess was the sister of Lionel Harrington, Duke of Ware, but she was everything her brother was not. She was vivacious, interesting, and electric. Violet absolutely adored her.

  “She’s coming! I can see her carriage down the drive!” Violet’s sister Polly rushed into the room to announce the arrival of their aunt. Violet rose and followed Polly at a slower pace. She would have liked to race as well, but she was older now, with her coming out season upon her. Her mother frowned upon what she saw as childish actions, and so Violet contented herself with following Polly’s blonde head as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.

  When Bess walked in the door, she brought with her additional life through the wide smile she bestowed on each of them. Violet was thrilled to see her but was equally as interested in the man accompanying her aunt. Bess, the widow of the Duke of Newton, had recently remarried an Italian — one without a title, which absolutely horrified Violet’s mother Marie. Her father, however, simply shrugged his shoulders and said his sister was old enough now to do as she pleased, and he had enough to worry about with his children.r />
  The Italian was captivating. He was the age of her parents, yet his dark eyes were charming, his hair hanging in waves around his shoulders. He greeted them in English, with one arm tucked loosely around Bess. “Mio Caro,” Violet heard him murmur as they moved into the parlor. How lovely, Violet thought, as she saw Bess’ matching look of affection for her husband.

  Dinner was a lively affair, with the five Harrington siblings so inquisitive about their aunt’s new home in Venice, a city they had never visited. They were captivated by the thought of homes that rested on water, canals instead of roads and boats instead of horses. “Can we please visit Aunt Bess, Father?” asked Thomas, the second eldest, who yearned to explore the world.

  “Perhaps,” their father said in his usual manner.

  “I am unsure how we would find time to be traveling across the continent,” said Marie. “It would be dreadfully difficult —”

  “You are welcome anytime, dear,” Bess cut in with a smile at her nephew.

  Marie sniffed but fell silent. Violet felt her mother had always secretly been slightly intimidated by her sister-in-law, although she would never say as such. Bess was a beauty, her sleek, near jet-black hair pulled away from her face to highlight her defined cheekbones and dancing blue eyes, now surrounded by laugh lines well earned. She had a wide smile and enjoyed the company of others, particularly her family. With no children of her own, she had spent her life spoiling her nieces and nephews. While Violet was pleased her aunt was happy, her one disappointment was the physical distance that now lay between them.

  After dinner, Violet finally had a moment alone with her aunt. She had always felt such a kindred soul in Bess, much more so than her own mother, who spent her days nagging at Violet about one thing or the other. Marie could never understand her eldest daughter, who seemed to despise everything Marie lived for. Violet disliked the airs put on by peers in society, and even more, she loathed all of the pointless conversations that took place at balls, dinners, musicales, and the like. She would much rather be home exploring her father’s library, whether here in the country or at their grand home in London.

  “Oh Aunt Bess, Marco is magnificent,” said Violet with a wistful smile. “You seem so happy together. How lucky you were to find each other.”

  “Yes, Violet,” Bess said. “I was not aware that such happiness could be found in a marriage. I certainly never saw it in my own parents or many members of the ton. When I was young and was married to Robert…” she trailed off and seemed to be considering if she should continue sharing her thoughts with Violet. She shrugged her shoulders, apparently having come to a decision.

  “I was married to Robert because he was a duke and I was the daughter of a duke,” she continued. “He was pleasant enough at the beginning of the marriage. He was polite and seemed to consider my well-being. However, as you know, no children resulted from our marriage. Robert became… rather displeased about this. As a duke, it was of utmost importance that his lineage continue. When it seemed our efforts did not result in any offspring, Robert decided to take his attention away from our marriage bed and into the beds of other women. Not that this is entirely uncommon, of course, but he grew rather cold altogether towards me and by the end of our marriage we hardly spoke.”

  Violet’s eyes grew wide as she took in her aunt, more serious than she had ever seen her before.

  “You must never tell your mother I have shared this with you,” Bess said, now with a bit of a laugh. “She would be utterly scandalized that I am speaking of such things. However, I tell you this, dear Violet, because you are also the daughter of a duke, a young woman coming into her own season. I first married according to what society required of me, and I have now married through following my own heart. Marco may not have a title, but he treasures me above all else and I live every day now knowing how loved I am. I so truly wish someone had given me this advice twenty years ago, so I will tell it to you now. Marry for love, Violet. Find a man who is not just pleasant, is not just accommodating, but who is head over heels in love with you. You only have one life — live it as it’s meant to be lived.”

  Violet nodded. It was advice she would never forget.

  1

  Six years later

  Lady Violet Harrington sighed heavily and tried not to listen to her mother’s continual whining. Turning her head so that she might look out of the window, Violet smiled to herself as she thought about what Thomas might be doing now.

  Thomas Harrington, her younger brother, had astonished them all by declaring that he had left the Royal Navy and gone in search of adventure. He had seemingly found more than adventure, as he had recently visited them in London, shocking them all by arriving with a wife. He had provided their mother with no end of reason to fall into fits, and it was becoming rather trying.

  Violet did smile when she thought of her mother’s reaction when she had read Thomas’ first surprising letter, telling them he was leaving the Navy. Her mother, of course, had been overwhelmed by the news and had collapsed into a chair, murmuring weakly about smelling salts. Violet had obliged, knowing full well that this was something of a charade, although she would admit that the contents of Thomas' letter were certainly unexpected.

  While Thomas had always longed for adventure, he also equally had always been a man filled with a sense of duty, and she had thought that duty lay firmly with the Royal Navy. It was also an escape for him, she was quite sure, for she had seen the way her mother would always attempt to press suitable young ladies onto Thomas, in the hope of finding him an acceptable bride. Thomas had wanted none of it and had used the sea as a reason to remain quite unattached.

  After meeting Thomas’ wife, Violet wondered how much she had affected Thomas' wishes and desires. Eleanor said all the right words and acted quite properly, but there was something in her expression and the glint of her eye that told a different story. No matter, they seemed quite happy together and well suited, and Violet was very pleased for her brother. Together he and his wife were now living off of Thomas’ work as a privateer, instead of following the dictates and rules of both his title and high society.

  While their mother, Marie, had been slightly mollified for a time that now at least one of her children had finally married, Thomas and his new bride had barely been out the door following their short stay before Marie was once again overcome by the scandal he had caused their family. After all, she had another four children who still had yet to be wed themselves.

  “Whatever are we do to?” she said dramatically.

  Sighing to herself, Violet turned around to face her mother. She was growing more than a little weary of hearing the same complaints about her brother, considering that he had chosen a very wise path. Life was too short to be stuck within society’s structures.

  “Mama, that is enough,” she said firmly.

  Her mother, apparently stunned by Violet’s tenacity, stopped short of the dramatics she was acting out in the middle of the drawing room of their London home, and stared at her daughter, her mouth hanging slightly ajar.

  “You have talked incessantly about Thomas,” Violet continued, firmly, standing from the sofa where she had tried to remain focused on her book, unsuccessful in ignoring her mother’s charades. “And that is all I can take. I have heard you complain about what he has done, but I for one think it a very good thing.”

  “A good thing?” her mother spluttered, sounding both horrified and disgusted. “He left the Navy, Violet! And now he is captaining some pirate ship around the ocean, living in squalor in the wild!”

  “He is not a pirate. He is a privateer and lives in Port Royal, an established city,” Violet replied, calmly. “His chosen profession, whatever it is, does not detract from my delight in hearing that he has chosen his own path in this life.” She lifted her shoulders. “If he wants adventure, then why not seek it out?”

  "Because he has duties!" her mother retorted, as two faint spots of color appeared in her cheeks. "He is the second son and
– "

  Violet held up one hand and cut her mother off. “He is the second son, Mama. Your oldest son is more than fulfilling his duties.”

  “Daniel is not fulfilling his duties! He is not married and therefore not currently producing any heirs. One can never be too careful! And —”

  With a great effort, Violet managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Mama, Thomas is doing what he wishes to do with his own life. You already have your eldest son doing exactly what he ought, besides finding a wife I will grant you — but is that not enough for you? Daniel will marry eventually. Allow Thomas to do what he thinks is best and be glad that he has not turned into some kind of degenerate gambler or the like, as so many second sons have a habit of doing!”

  That took the fight from her mother, for Violet knew that her words held a great amount of truth. A duke was the highest rank of the peerage, and second sons – and even third sons should there be any – often spent their lives in nothing more than a slow descent of increasing debauchery, having no other purpose than to spend their wealth. It was a relief to her that Thomas had not been so inclined, although her mother still failed to see the blessing that was. In fact, Marie should likely be more worried about Benjamin, but she was still too focused on her elder children.

  “Now,” Violet continued matter of factly. “Why do you not call upon your friend, Lady Mallen? There are more than a few hours remaining of the day and I am quite sure she will be more than happy to listen to your woes.” She held her breath as her mother considered this, a slight frown on her face.

  “I could, I suppose,” the Duchess said, eventually, her voice softer than before. “You simply cannot understand what a trial this is for me, Violet. It may be that Lady Mallen might console me, given that she is a mother also.”