Willing Love

by Mary Jean Adams

  “Go away!” She forced her voice through her dry throat.

  She rolled over, pulling a blanket of grass over her head and drifted back into the warmth of the meadow.

  The butterflies tugged at her blanket. Prudence pulled it back. More of them gathered, tugging it farther from her shoulders. Prudence reached a hand out to swat at the aggressive insects. She could hear them laughing at her, their tiny masculine voices coming from far away. Funny. She would have thought butterfly laughter would be more feminine. Prudence sat up to stare into the all-too-cheerful face of her new husband.

  She pressed her palms against her eyelids, blotting out the morning sun. “Do you always get up this early?”

  “Early? It’s after two bells in the forenoon watch.”

  “Pardon?” Prudence glanced around at unfamiliar surroundings. She wasn’t in her soft summer meadow, but in Evan’s ship, lying in his uncomfortably hard and narrow bed.

  “It’s after nine o’clock, sleepyhead.” He tousled her hair as though she were a child.

  “Is that all?” Prudence flopped back down into his bed and pulled the quilt over her head.

  “Well, I suppose you can go back to sleep if you want him to find you naked in here.”

  Prudence sprang back up. “Who?”

  “Simon,” Evan said. “He just set out from shore in a dinghy, and he’s headed this way. Given the size of the two men rowing the boat, I’d guess you have about twenty minutes to make yourself presentable.”

  “Simon? Here? How can you be so calm? The man took a shot at me just yesterday!”

  Evan laughed. “Relax, sweetheart. I don’t suspect he came to finish the job. We don’t even know what he’s doing here. Perhaps he just wanted to extend his felicitations to the happy couple.” Evan grew pensive. “Though I doubt that’s all of it. He doesn’t seem the type to go out of his way to congratulate the man who stole his love interest out from under him.”

  Prudence rose from the bed, wrapping the blanket around her naked body. “Love interest?” She snorted. “That man has no love for me.”

  Evan leaned back against a table and folded his arms over his chest. “No, I suppose it’s not love, but he is not what I would call disinterested. There’s a gleam in his eye that I recognize.”

  Prudence cast him a derisive look. “It’s called hate. The man despises the very ground I walk on.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  Tugging her blanket tight, Prudence collected her sodden clothes from the floor. If only she had taken the time to lay them out to dry the night before. Alas, clothing had been the last thing on her mind during the night. It had been one spent in delirious oblivion to all but the way Evan made her body sing.

  In the cold light of morning, the night’s pleasures seemed an all-too-distant memory.

  “Ahhh!” Her sigh was one of pure exasperation. “Even if these were dry, I could hardly greet him wearing boy’s clothes. He’d know for certain it was me on the beach.”

  “Just stay in bed. We’ll tell him you had a late night.” Evan’s eyes twinkled. “A very late night, and you’re not up for receiving visitors this morning.”

  “We can’t tell him that! He’d think we were up all night…” Her face heated.

  Evan grabbed a handful of blanket as she strode by him, headed toward a limp stocking on the other side of the room.

  “That sounds like a good idea to me.” He tugged until she had to choose between going to him or collecting her things while naked.

  Prudence chose the former. When she stood before him, he kissed her forehead and folded her into his arms. “I can’t think of a better way to get revenge than to let him know you are happily married to a man who appreciates your charms. Besides, he’s not likely to barge into my quarters insisting you receive him in the altogether.”

  “I don’t think he’s here for a social visit.” Prudence ignored Evan’s jest.

  Her husband seemed none-too-worried about Simon finding her in a state of dishabille. Must be something to do with male pride of the conquest.

  Evan drew back to look at her face. “What do you mean? Do you know more about this than you’ve told me?”

  Prudence backed away. “He came to see me yesterday.”

  “He did what?” Evan rose. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “I started to tell you, but you distracted me before I had the opportunity.”

  “So why did he come to see you? I take it that he did not come to offer us his best wishes?”

  “No, it seems my old nemesis has a new position. The governor appointed him customs officer.” All vestiges of amusement vanished from Evan’s expression, making Prudence wonder if she didn’t have more to worry about than she knew. “Actually, he told me he came to see you. He told me that the visit could not wait.”

  “Did he say why he needed to see me?”

  “No, he wouldn’t tell me. Apparently, now that we are married, he believes all of our business affairs will be handled by you.” The assumption still rankled, and Prudence didn’t try to hide it. “Perhaps my inability to lie makes me more sensitive to lies in others, but he was either hiding something or fishing for information.”

  “Get dressed.”

  Prudence paused for a moment, waiting for Evan to turn his back or leave the quarters. When he didn’t, she shrugged, tossed off the sheet and pulled on her salt-encrusted breeches. They were married after all, and besides, Evan was staring at the wall, deep in thought.

  “Now what?” Prudence pinned her hair into a knot at the top of her head.

  Evan surveyed her from the top of her head to her bare feet. “No, that won’t do. It won’t do at all.”

  “What won’t do? At least if I’m dressed like this, he might not recognize me. Give me a hat, and I’ll hide among the crew…”

  Evan rose. “In the light of day, there is no way anyone is going to believe you are a boy. Follow me.”

  Evan pushed back a dresser on the opposite side of his quarters. Taking a knife from the top drawer, he used it to pry away a piece of the wall near the floor.

  Prudence gripped the side of the hole and leaned in to stare into the gaping darkness. In the dim light, she could see a wall some three feet in. Was it a corridor? She glanced from side to side. Once her eyes adjusted, she could make out the distant shadowy forms of planks to both her right and left. Not a corridor then, but a secret hold of some sort.

  She pulled her head back out. “What do you keep in here?”

  “Only my most precious cargo.” Evan brushed her forehead with his lips then hustled her into the darkness.

  He replaced the piece of wall, and darkness enveloped her. The sound of the dresser scraping over the wood was like that of a tomb being closed.

  “Evan, I really don’t like dark places.” Prudence shivered from a chill that had nothing to do with her wet clothes. She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself.

  “Hush. It’s just until I can get rid of him. In the meantime, you must remain absolutely quiet.”

  Prudence leaned back against the wall and sank to the floor. She hugged her knees, trying to quell the panic.

  A small sliver of light about two feet above the floor beckoned to her. Prudence clambered to her knees and crawled toward it.

  She peered through a small crack where the workmen had been a little less thorough when applying pitch between the planks. She couldn’t see much from her vantage point. A few floorboards, the leg of a chair, some sort of brown leather. Evan’s boots?

  Prudence picked at the opening with her fingernails. If she could only widen it just a bit.

  “Please don’t pry apart my new ship.”

  “Sorry.” Prudence sat back on her heels.

  At least she could hear everything going on even if she could see nothing. It made her feel slightly less entombed. Of course, sound went two ways. Evan had made it clear that those in the room could hear her as well. She would have to be as quiet as a
mouse. Quieter even, since a ship this new would be unlikely to have mice.

  Or rats. Prudence shuddered at the idea she might not be alone in the darkness. She would rather face an overeager revenue collector than a rat—not that there was much difference in her opinion.

  A sharp rap sounded on Evan’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Hinges gave a soft squeak and there was a shuffling of heavy boots.

  “There’s some bastard here to see you, Captain. Claims to be a customs officer. Looks like one, too, fancy suit and all. You’d think he was the king himself.”

  Prudence swallowed a giggle, Jenkins’ distaste for customs officers, especially ones in fancy suits, was obvious.

  “Send him in.”

  “If you say so, Captain.”

  There was more scuffling of boots, more than one pair this time, then a stifled oath.

  “I can bloody well show myself in. And just so you know, I don’t think I am the king. However, I am the king’s representative, and I expect to be treated accordingly.”

  Prudence shrank back against the wall at the sound of Simon’s voice.

  “If I have my way, you will be.” Jenkins’ acerbic voice drifted off, the hinges squeaked, and then there was a sharp click of the door closing.

  “What did he mean by that?” Simon asked.

  “Just as you requested. You are the king’s representative, and as such you deserve the same sort of deference we would give his majesty if he were here to collect the revenues himself.”

  “Yes, well, that’s very good.”

  Given the way most of the men who served aboard her family’s ships viewed the king and his representatives. Prudence thought Simon’s acceptance of the explanation showed a certain naiveté.

  “I suppose congratulations are in order.” Simon’s voice was as dead as a north wind in winter. “Although I don’t know why you would choose to leave your bride so soon after your nuptials.”

  Evan said nothing, and Prudence could bear the silence no more. She crept forward to steal another glance through the small sliver between the planks. The brown leather hadn’t moved. Either they were something other than Evan’s boots, or he hadn’t risen when Simon came into the room.

  “You must have had something important to take care of to leave such a delightful woman all alone in that big house.”

  There was a soft rasp of papers being shuffled. Was Simon rifling through Evan’s things the way he had absently picked over her ledgers? Surely, he wouldn’t dare with Evan in the room.

  The brown leather twitched.

  “My bride can take care of herself, and I have business to attend.” The leather twitched again. “Although I don’t see how either of those is any of your business.”

  “Well, I suppose Prudence is none of my business, but as an old friend, I certainly care about her happiness.” Simon’s nasal voice held a casual tone that implied a familiarity with Evan that did not exist. “She was a lucky find for you. Tell me, was this a happy accident, or did you have an eye on marrying into the family when you accepted the position from the old lady.”

  Prudence clapped a hand over her mouth to smother a gasp.

  Evan didn’t respond, but through the crack between the planks, the leather moved up and down. Simon’s question had agitated Evan.

  Had Evan planned this whole marriage business himself? Had he accepted a position with Ashcroft & Sons with the express goal of taking over the company? Or perhaps he had had another plan in mind, but with her marriage proposal, Prudence had offered him an easier path. He had accepted her offer readily enough.

  Prudence shook her head to clear the monstrous thoughts from her mind. Surely not. Her grandmother had called Evan a gift, one she had personally chosen for her granddaughter. Of course, that did not mean Evan didn’t have designs of his own. Perhaps she and her grandmother had been willing pawns in his game.

  “So I suppose you will be taking over the business now?”

  “What would I know about running Ashcroft & Sons? I’m just a simple sea captain.”

  “Are you? Just a simple sea captain, and yet Rachel Ashcroft has this ship built expressly for you. Seems there might be more to your story than meets the eye.”

  The hold grew stuffy as though Prudence had used up all the air. She forced her breathing to calm.

  Simon continued when Evan didn’t respond. “It’s strange…I make it my business to know everything I can about the good citizens under my jurisdiction, but I can’t find a record of an Evan Foster anywhere.”

  “I’ve moved around a lot.”

  “Really?” Simon’s tone turned friendly again. “I have, too. Where did you live before you came to Rhode Island? Perhaps we’ve covered some of the same ground.”

  “I’ve lived aboard ship most of my life.”

  “I suppose you have.” Simon’s voice came from farther away.

  Was he exploring the room? Prudence mentally ticked off the items she had worn, trying to come up with anything she might have left in the open. To her relief, she couldn’t come up with a single thing.

  “Tell me, on which ships did you serve?” Simon’s voice was muffled as though his back were turned.

  “Most recently, the Mariposa,” Evan replied.

  Prudence knew that ship. She belonged to an independent captain who was as likely to ply the triangle trade as he was to accept a legitimate job. Mercy! She hoped Evan didn’t plan to involve Ashcroft in that nasty business.

  “The Mariposa, eh? I’ll bet you have some interesting stories to tell.”

  “Not really,” Evan said. “With the restrictions on trade, the captain couldn’t afford to keep me on.”

  “What did you do after that?”

  “Odd jobs.”

  “Like what?” Simon seemed determined not to let Evan get away with vague answers.

  “Did some bricklaying. Had a stint as a chimney sweep. Considered heading up north to try my hand at trapping, but decided I’m not fond of frozen water.”

  “And then the offer from Mrs. Ashcroft fell into your lap.”

  Evan grunted an acknowledgement.

  “Of course, by marrying the daughter, you don’t have to content yourself with being just a sea captain. Now, you can have the whole business.”

  “Ashcroft belongs to Prudence.”

  “But she’s a woman.” Simon’s incredulity seemed far less feigned than his friendliness.

  Prudence’s dislike of her former classmate deepened.

  “She’s an Ashcroft.”

  “Not really, of course.” Simon lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What with the curse and all, her grandfather was the last real Ashcroft. I suppose with no men to manage the business, Rachel Ashcroft was only too happy to throw you in the path of her granddaughter. She had to do it to save the family fortune from her incompetence.”

  Prudence could barely contain her fury. She waited for Evan to defend her. If he didn’t do it soon, she might just give into the urge to rip a hole in Evan’s precious ship and throttle Simon herself.

  “She has Richard to help her.”

  Prudence stifled a gasp. Did no one have confidence in her abilities?

  “He’s in love with her, you know. The man used to visit her at school. Stayed for days from what I’ve heard.”

  Prudence cringed. She did not need Simon replanting seeds of doubt in Evan’s head. Right after she took him to task for not defending her abilities as the head of Ashcroft, she would explain that when Richard visited her at the academy, she had lived in the home of the Reverend Fitzgerald. Had it not been for the ever-watchful Mrs. Fitzgerald, her relationship with Richard might have developed into something more than friendship. Nevertheless, the stern Mrs. Fitzgerald had seen to it that they never had a moment alone during any of his visits.

  “Though I don’t understand why.” Simon sounded more like he was talking to himself than to Evan. “As far as I can tell, she’s never given him a bit of en
couragement, never encouraged any of us for that matter. Mark my words. She’s going to turn into a dried up old biddy.”

  The heel of Evan’s boot ceased its rapid movements, and the air in the narrow hold grew even thicker. A trickle of sweat wound its way down Prudence’s temple.

  “Of course, maybe she is already,” Simon said, seemingly oblivious to the change in atmosphere. “Maybe that’s why you left her the day after your wedding. Couldn’t convince her to spread those pretty little legs for you?”

  The brown leather was there one moment, and then it was gone. Prudence fell back as something heavy slammed against the planks, blocking her view and plunging the dimly lit hold into darkness.

  “I am the king’s represent—” Simon’s words were choked off.

  “Jenkins!” Evan’s bellow shook the planks.

  Door hinges squeaked immediately. “Yes, sir?”

  “Jenkins, help our guest off the ship.” Evan’s voice had returned to normal, but it still held an underlying current of restrained fury.

  Something slumped to the floor.

  “Come on, you. On your feet,” Jenkins said, with a grunt.

  “One more thing, Jenkins.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Show him the same respect you would show the king.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jenkins replied. “With pleasure, sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Once again, Prudence was awakened from sensual dreams by the light brush of Evan’s lips against her cheek. However, this time, when she opened her eyes, he had already moved off to tie his neck cloth in front of the mirror.

  Prudence studied her husband while he dressed.

  Although her anger had cooled, she had hoped they might have a word or two about her role at Ashcroft. Afterward, they might share more than words.

  All afternoon her body had hummed with anticipation. Ever since she had met Evan, words had seemed inadequate. Either she wasn’t very good at communicating, or he wasn’t very good at listening, but their conversations left her feeling frustrated and out of sorts. Making love with him set everything right. She supposed they were both far better with physical communication than verbal.

  By the time they reached the manor in the late afternoon, Prudence had been ready to suggest they forgo food in favor of the bedroom. Then she caught the hungry look in his eye when Mrs. Hatcher mentioned that supper would be ready momentarily, and she decided she could wait a little longer. Patience was, after all, a virtue.