As he descended to his cabin, he stopped short. From the moment she’d learned his name, Charlie had started babbling about his brothers. She’d known about their involvement in the spy network, even if she hadn’t known about his mother. If he wanted answers, perhaps he ought to turn to her. He crossed to the neighboring door and knocked. “Charlie?”
“Come in.” She sounded distracted.
Opening the door cautiously, he entered. He was surprised to find her curled up beneath the porthole, struggling to catch the ambient outdoor light as she embroidered what looked to be a man’s jacket. It appeared nearly complete, likely a product of his insisting she remain in her cabin at all hours. Although he was no expert, the needlework looked superb.
“Anthony.” She swiftly tied off the thread and snapped the excess between her teeth. She laid the cloth on her lap and sat up straighter on the bed. “Come in. Are you all right? You seem unsettled.”
Unsettled couldn’t begin to describe the emotions he felt at that moment. He stepped into the room and shut the door. She was embroidering. Not only that, but she was good at it. For the first time since they’d met, he wondered if he knew her at all. Embroidery was such a ladylike pastime. And yet the brazen, outspoken, sometimes belligerent, unladylike woman voluntarily spent her time doing such delicate work.
Maybe he had he been wrong about her. She could be more suited to him than he’d thought at first. His mother was the most ladylike woman he knew… and yet it turned out that she was not only a spy, but she commanded the entire network. He didn’t know what to think of her anymore, let alone what to think of Charlie, also involved in spying and with more ladylike qualities than he’d originally thought. And unlike with the mousy woman he’d always envisioned marrying, he could happily carry on a conversation with Charlie. Sometimes they argued, but she was never boring. She was wild like him, like the part of himself he had been trying to subdue for years. If she could be wild and ladylike all at once…
What was he thinking? His world had turned on end this afternoon. He didn’t know what to think about anything. Not about himself, his future, or the woman whose chambers he had entered alone.
She scurried to one side of the bed to make room for him at its foot. “Come. Sit down before you fall down.”
Do I look that out of sorts? He complied without argument.
When he did, she reached out and took his hand. Her fingers were bare, and her heat felt too good. He almost pulled her closer. “Is it your mother?”
He nodded. “And my brothers. And Lucy… everything. I hadn’t the faintest idea that they were involved in this. They never told me.”
“If it eases your mind, I think most have only joined up in the last year. That’s when I learned about this—because of Freddie.”
Holding her hand between both of his, he twisted to look at her. One of her curls had fallen free of her coiffure and clung to the corner of her mouth. She didn’t appear to notice. He resisted the urge to brush it away. “Is your sister a spy as well?”
Charlie shook her head. “She was, briefly. Well, Lord Harker—our guardian—tricked her into spying for the French and trying to steal something from your brother. She and Tristan fell in love instead, and he sorted everything out. She helps him if she can, but she’s confessed to me that she doesn’t think she’s suited for spy work. It’s why she’s never asked Morgan for training.”
“Have you?”
“Asked to become a spy?” Charlie laughed. “No. Sneaking into people’s bedrooms isn’t my idea of adventure. For a long time, I thought Mama had retired as well, but she told me she’s been doing smaller tasks, such as keeping an eye on Lucy.”
Gray smirked. “Lucy does need to be watched.”
“She isn’t half as reckless as you Graylocke men seem to think, but before Monsieur V was killed, there was some need.” Charlie’s mouth twisted, but that stubborn curl clung to the corner. “No one told me, but in January she managed to see Monsieur V’s face. No other spy had done that, so she was the only person able to identify him. Morgan wanted to keep her safe.”
He heaved a sigh. “Spies… ” He shook his head. He still couldn’t fathom it.
“They do good work.”
“I never said otherwise.” He admired the shape of her hand, nestled in his bigger palm. Her fingers looked so delicate, much the way she seemed at first glance. But she was stronger than she appeared, though he hadn’t noticed that at first. She was brave, too. She’d risked her life to find her father. Now, she risked it to save his mother. She had a big heart.
She squeezed his hand and smiled. “Let it sink in. It’s quite a shock, I know. Before Freddie married Tristan, I had no idea that a spy network existed in England, let alone that Mama was a part of it. Give it time, and you’ll start to connect little things that you dismissed earlier.”
His gaze fastened on her mouth once more and on that errant curl, teasing him. He’d dismissed her, from the moment they’d met. He shouldn’t have. Unable to resist any longer, he lifted one hand to tuck that strand of hair behind her ear.
Her blue eyes darkened. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He cupped her cheek, slowly leaning forward. He didn’t trust himself to speak, to ask for the kiss he burned to take. Charlie answered his hesitancy by closing her eyes and turning her mouth up to meet his.
He kissed her. Sweet at first, but when he recalled their kiss mere feet away, desire gripped him. He deepened the kiss, surrendering to the sensation of her mouth. Charlie met him with every bit as much passion and eagerness as he felt. When she twined her arms around his neck and pulled him close, he bore her back toward the bed. She had him aflame. He ran his hand over her side, learning the shape and dip of her body.
When she threw her head back, gasping for air as she made a strangled noise, clarity returned in a bracing flood. Given another moment, he would have searched out the buttons on her dress. He thrust himself away.
“Anthony?” A furrow formed between her eyebrows, making her look uncertain.
“Forgive me. I never should have…”
Afraid of what he might do if he remained, he beat a hasty retreat. The moment the salty sea air on deck buffeted him, he berated himself for his weakness. Charlie was under his protection. It was his duty to keep her safe, not accost her. No matter what, he needed to keep his distance in order to ensure what had nearly happened between them never happened again, even if she was more ladylike than he’d thought and more alluring than he cared to admit.
15
The ship wasn’t sailing fast enough for Gray’s tastes, not with his mother’s life in jeopardy. For days, he’d haunted the deck, willing the wind to fill the sails and push them north faster. What if they were too late?
“Anthony?”
He turned at Charlie’s voice. She stood at the edge of the deck, near to the captain’s quarters. No doubt she’d just exited from another day spent reacquainting herself with her father. He clasped his hands behind him tightly, burying the surge of jealousy that rippled through him. Not at another man monopolizing her time—at the fact that, after thinking her father dead, she had the opportunity to reunite with him. It was a precious thing.
Gray wondered whether his own father would be proud of him, now that he’d become the upright, dutiful captain. Gray had always thought so, but… Mother appeared demure and ladylike until he learned of her involvement in the spy network. No, running the spy network. Father could have hidden a wild side of himself, too. Perhaps Gray was more like his father than he knew. Steeling himself, he crossed to Charlie. He stopped out of arm’s reach, wondering what he should he say to her.
When she nibbled on her lower lip, the memory of their kiss haunted him. “Have you been avoiding me?”
Yes. “Of course not. I have work to do.”
She opened her mouth to argue.
The ship lurched as a sound halfway between a rumble and a grating filled the air. Gray fought to catch his balance as the ship
came to an abrupt stop. He barely found his feet in time to catch Charlie as she pitched forward into his arms.
The feel of her body was torture. Fortunately, he had an excuse to step away. He rounded on the helmsman. “What in the blazes is going on?”
The young man flushed a plum color. “Forgive me, Captain, but… I think we’ve run aground.”
Gray swore vehemently and commanded his crew to check the ship for damage.
The French barque was sturdily made. Despite the abrupt halt, no holes needed to be patched in the hull. Aside from a few chips in the paint, everything seemed in working order, except for the fact that they couldn’t move.
“We’ll have to wait for the tide to come in,” Lieutenant Stills informed him.
Gray gnashed his teeth. The delay was unacceptable. His mother’s life was in danger. “Is there nothing we can do?”
“Unless you’d like to stand neck-deep in water and dry to dig the ship out, no.”
It was the closest Stills had ever come to giving him sass. Clenching his fists, Gray rounded on the helmsman. “How did this happen?”
The pallid young man tugged on his forelock. “Forgive me, sir. The map was a bit wet, you see. The ink smudged, and I thought the shallow waters didn’t come this far out.”
Gray grabbed the map in question from the helmsman’s proffered hands. The map was horribly smudged, more so than it should have been from the bit of drizzle they’d had of late. The lines marking the coast smeared until they were a quarter of an inch thick. In a map this size, that small margin accounted for miles. Stifling a sigh, he thrust the map back into the young man’s hands. “Place this somewhere safe. You are relieved of duty at the helm until further notice. Find his replacement, and check if we have any other maps of the area,” Gray snapped to his second-in-command.
“Yes, Captain. I’m afraid it won’t solve our predicament for the moment. Until the waters deepen again, we’ll have to remain here.”
“I know,” Gray answered, his voice tight. He turned away and paced the quarterdeck as he thought over their options.
With Mother unaware of the assassination attempt, he couldn’t suffer to sit still. If they arrived hours too late… No. It wouldn’t happen, because he wouldn’t allow it. One way or another, he was going to ensure his mother’s safety. The admiral had given him orders to see Charlie’s mission to completion; it wasn’t complete until his mother was safe and the spy network alerted to the threat.
The chances were slim that another ship would happen upon them and offer its assistance. Gray would have to find another way to carry on, if not by sea, then by land. Grabbing the spyglass, he turned it toward the shore and tried to gauge the distance. Less than a mile. If the barque hadn’t had such a deep keel, they wouldn’t be mired in this situation. A smaller ship would have been able to navigate the shallower waters of the embankment with ease. A dinghy would have no trouble at all.
Returning the spyglass to its holster, he loped toward his quarters and searched out the money he kept with him. The bulk of his wages went into a bank in London, but he kept some coin on him in case of emergency. This certainly qualified. It would be enough for a horse, though the quality of beast he would find in a small British village was not as high stepping as the horseflesh at Tattersall’s.
Grabbing a small satchel, he transferred his money and what belongings he thought he’d need into it before returning above deck. The crew and the Vales awaited his return.
Charlie intercepted him. “What’s happened?”
“In brief, we’re stuck.”
Her eyes widened. “For how long?”
“A few hours. Less than a day, to be certain, though this close to shore we’d have to anchor throughout the night regardless of the tide. We’re only mired as long as the tide is out. A bit extra water will free the keel from the sand, and the ship will be able to get underway again.”
She pressed her lips together as she processed that information. “That doesn’t sound terribly dire.”
“It isn’t. But it’s a delay we cannot afford. I’m going ashore.”
She squared her shoulders. “Very well. I’ll go with you.” Her chin was mulish; her face was set.
He couldn’t allow her to accompany him. He stepped past her toward the dinghy. “I’ll move faster alone. As soon as the tide is high enough and there’s enough light, Lieutenant Stills will escort you and your parents to the mouth of the Thames. The barque won’t be able to sail up the river, but you can catch a riverboat to take you to London. I hope you’ll arrive sooner than me.”
Charlie hiked up her skirts and dashed in front of him. Since they had been run aground, the deck moved very little and didn’t set her off balance. “And what if we don’t? I signed on to this mission, and I will see it through to the end. I won’t slow you down.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice as he tried to reason with her. The hairs raised on the back of his neck with the force of the stares of her parents and the crew. Whispers eddied behind them, but he ignored them. “I can ride faster on my own. If you accompany me, we’ll have to take more rests. Forgive me, but I doubt you’re accustomed to riding for such long stints.”
She raised her eyebrows, her mouth pursing. “And you are? You’re a navy captain!”
Although she had a point, he was loath to admit it. “This is my mother’s life in danger. I’ll push through.”
“So will I—”
“Charlie.” He caught and held her gaze, trying to beg her to see sense without using words.
It didn’t work. Her eyes hardened, and she drew herself up. “I have a personal stake in the outcome too, Anthony. She may not be my mother, but this past year she has welcomed me into her home and family as if she was. Lady Graylocke has been like a second mother to me. At times, even a mentor or confidante. She is my family, too, and I will not sit by and”—she scrunched her nose—“work on needlepoint when there is something I might be able to do to save her.”
Her vehement tone rose as she spoke. By the last word, the air rang with her words. She rendered Gray speechless. He had never met a woman with such courage and determination. If Mother meant so much to her, he couldn’t deny her.
Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Very well. We’ll go together.”
Charlie released the breath she held. He was giving in so easily, which wasn’t like the stubborn navy captain she knew. After all, he seemed to delight in butting heads with her. She’d expected to have to do battle with him before he relented.
He grumbled, “But you’d best be able to keep up.”
There was the stubborn, disgruntled man she knew. She smiled, triumphant. “I will. I promise.”
Mama stepped up, clasping her hands in front of her in a white-knuckled grip. Papa followed, wearing the tailcoat Charlie had finished embroidering. He looked dashing, even if his breeches weren’t of as fine a make.
Mama said, “Very well. I’ll fetch our valises. Richard?”
“Of course, dear.” Papa started for the captain’s quarters.
“Wait.” Anthony rubbed his forehead. “That won’t work.”
Charlie drew herself up. “Why not?”
“It’s too many people,” he told her. “The dinghy can only seat four, and one of those four needs to row it back to the ship for use in case of emergency.”
“Then use another one,” she insisted.
“We can’t. This is a captured vessel, as you may recall. The others appear to have been damaged during the capture. They will be fixed at port, of course, but we haven’t the time or materials to fix them now.”
Charlie gritted her teeth. “I will not be left behind, Anthony.”
He looked past her toward her parents. “Somebody must. It will not be me.”
Papa and Mama exchanged a mournful look. They had only recently been reunited after years of separation. Charlie didn’t know the horrors to which Papa had been subjected during his time as a British spy on French soil. However, sh
e knew that Mama’s role as spy in Lord Harker’s household hadn’t been an easy one. She’d watched her mother fade away, little by little, while her sister Freddie struggled to pick up the pieces.
Anthony added, “Someone will have to remain aboard, in any case. If you reach London before me, someone must be able to deliver the message themselves.”
Lieutenant Stills didn’t help the matter when he stepped forward. “I’m going with you as well, Captain. You may need my arm.”
Biting her lip to contain the way her stomach dropped, Charlie fought not to say a word. How dare he claim a spot in the boat when there was precious little space to begin with. There was nothing Lieutenant Stills could offer that Papa or Mama couldn’t.
Anthony’s expression was hard as he answered, “Absolutely not. You are captain of this vessel upon my departure. It is your duty to remain with it.”
The usually smiling man clasped his hands behind his back, utterly serious. “With all due respect, sir, I have been your second-in-command far longer than I have been captain of this vessel. It is my duty to see that you complete your assignment safely and offer my assistance. I will not be swayed.”
When Mama shifted to brush an errant strand of hair out of her face, she caught Charlie’s attention. Mama offered an encouraging smile. “Captain Graylocke will do everything he can to impart the message. We’ll do our part.”
“No.” Charlie recoiled, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m going with him!”
“Absolutely not,” Mama said, her face set. “I am not going to let you go off alone.”
“I won’t be alone. Anthony will be with me. Do you honestly think he would let any harm befall me?”
Mama’s expression hardened. She drew herself up, even though she only reached to Papa’s shoulder. “He is the harm, my dear. Or don’t you have a care for your reputation?”
“My reputation?” The crew, formerly whispering, grew oddly silent throughout the exchange. Charlie rubbed her arms to throw off the unease of so much scrutiny. “A woman’s life is in danger, Mama. I don’t much care for my reputation at the moment, no.”
Captivating the Captain (Scandals and Spies Book 6) Page 9
