Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

by Mary Lancaster

  “No casualties. Not a scratch on Erskine or his crew. No one was on board,” the Lord Admiral said, staring pointedly at the Marquis of Chester.

  Romulus shook his head. “No one on…where were they all?” Was Erskine that much of an idiot to leave his ship completely unprotected? Not even a few men to stand guard? Not that it would have helped. Perhaps his misguided decisions had actually saved his crewmen.

  Port Isaac was a pirate stronghold. The place was infested with those scoundrels. The harbor master and his underlings had to be in the pocket of those pirates, handsomely bribed to look the other way. All sorts of activities took place in the harbor under their very noses.

  Several of the town magistrates had to be on the take as well. Perhaps every damn official in the seaport town. Erskine knew this. He should have sailed out with his fleet. He should have been leading–

  He broke off the thought. “So, the burning of his ship was merely meant to humiliate the Royal Navy. Retaliation for my capture of McFlynn and his pirate wolf pack, I presume.”

  “We believe so,” the marquis said.

  Oh, damn.

  He saw the look in the marquis’s eyes and knew he was going to try to pin the blame on anyone but his nephew. Romulus stifled the shudder of apprehension that slithered up his spine. How could this be blamed on him? It was Erskine’s bloody ship. He was miles away when the ship burned, right here in London, ruining the luscious Violet Farthingale. He’d be damned if he’d allow them to pin the sinking of Erskine’s ship on him.

  He paused a moment, knowing he was about to cause an uproar. “Why wasn’t Ashcroft put in command? He was the obvious choice.” Of course, he knew the marquis must have put pressure on the First Lord Admiral to promote his nephew. This is how it was often done. Letters sent to the Lord Admiral petitioning for a coveted commission for a son or brother or nephew. “We’re lucky the morning papers aren’t filled with accounts of a bloody slaughter, which is what would have happened to Erskine and his crew if the pirates had really meant to do more than taunt us.”

  “Enough, Brayden. We didn’t call you in here to box our ears,” the marquis intoned.

  He gritted his teeth and nodded, knowing he needed to get this man on his side, and he knew just how to do it. “What are you going to do to Captain Erskine? He is a decent chap, just inexperienced. The sinking isn’t his fault.”

  The marquis stared at him. “Then you would vote against my nephew’s court-martial?”

  “Of course, I would. As I said, this isn’t his fault. You promoted him too soon. He should not be blamed for what happened.”

  The marquis released a breath of relief.

  “However,” Romulus continued, hoping to tread carefully, but not certain he could manage it, “he cannot be left in command. You cannot trust him with the lives of our sailors. You know this. A battle-tested commander has to be put in charge.”

  Every man around the table understood they had averted a disaster. Pirate captains did not gain their status by being stupid. They were blood-thirsty rogues, but also wily when it came to their own survival. Pirate common sense had saved Erskine and his crew. Not even the officials they bribed would have protected the rogues if Royal Navy blood was shed in their harbor.

  Not that the Admiralty would have done much if a few sailors had their throats slit. But if they’d touched a hair on Erskine’s head? The marquis would have demanded the might of the Royal Navy come down on them, crushing the scourge once and for all.

  Romulus almost wished they’d broken Erskine’s arm or done something harmless enough from which he’d heal. It would finally put pressure on the government to end the rampant piracy. But the corruption extended deep within the echelons of government. Everyone had their hand out, from high government officials down to the men who built the ships or loaded its cargo. It did not matter whether it was a merchant vessel, passenger ship, or naval frigate.

  Hands were out, it was merely a matter of how much each man grabbed.

  The Lord Admiral frowned. “Erskine will be given a promotion and assigned to the Admiralty here in London.”

  Romulus rolled his eyes, too angry with these pompous toads seated around the table to hold his tongue. “Have him shuffle papers all you like, but you cannot give him decision-making authority. You cannot put our lives in his hands.”

  “Watch what you say about my nephew, Brayden. I’ll have you put in shackles.”

  Bollocks. Time to get this marquis back on his side again. “Lord Marbury, if he is your heir, then do him the favor of getting him out of the line of battle command as soon as possible. He is inept at it. He is fortunate not to have been their target, or he would have died a horrible and painful death at the hands of these merciless fiends.”

  He scanned down the table. One of the lords seated here could be the very one protecting the harbor master and others, for those men running Port Isaac should have been tossed in prison years ago. “I am glad he is safe. In truth, I like him. But it is important that our men patrolling St. George’s Channel and the Irish Sea also remain safe. We need men in command who know what they are doing. Who will not be duped into making foolish decisions that cost the lives of thousands of sailors.”

  He turned to the marquis once again. “I sincerely hope your nephew is safe and unharmed. He is a good man at heart, just not meant for military service.”

  The Lord Admiral nodded. “There was not a scratch on him or his crew.”

  Which confirmed he had done nothing to save his vessel or chase the men who’d burned it. Erskine should never have been put in charge. He had no experience. But as the heir of a marquis, he had been quickly elevated in the ranks.

  No one around the table had to say it aloud, but they were all thinking the obvious. They were fortunate the pirates hadn’t meant to spill blood that night.

  Still, an expensive frigate had been lost.

  That had to hurt the royal treasury.

  The king must have been blazing mad.

  “I hate to send you back, Brayden. I had bigger plans for you,” the Lord Admiral said. “I wanted you in my own fleet command. But we need you back in Cornwall. You know the territory better than anyone. The pirates respect you, especially now that you’ve taken down one of the most vicious among their ranks. But they know you’re gone, and they’ve become emboldened. They’re easily outsmarting our patrols. The English merchants are howling.”

  The Duke of Grambling now spoke up. “So is His Majesty,” he said, confirming what Romulus had suspected. “He is most displeased. So, let’s fix this as soon as possible before all our heads roll.”

  The Lord Admiral nodded. “You are to return as soon as your ship is repaired.”

  “My old ship? The Plover?” He’d been told he would be given a new vessel in the Lord Admiral’s fleet, but he doubted that majestic frigate would now be put in service in Cornwall.

  They would give him back his old command, give him back his crew, his small but sleek and agile frigate. He was pleased. He knew this vessel, her every creak and groan. He knew how fast she sailed and how tightly she turned.

  He knew how many hits she could sustain.

  “She won’t be ready until next week,” the Lord Admiral said, regaining his attention. “I’ll expect you to remain in London until then.”

  He eyed the Lord Admiral curiously, surprised it would take so long when he’d expected the vessel to be seaworthy in a matter of days. She’d only cracked a mizzenmast. And why was he required to remain in London until then? Was the man purposely doing him a favor?

  How could he know about Violet and how desperate Romulus was for even a few more hours with her? Putting off his departure until next week would give him time to see her recital and make certain the funds were properly deposited in the orphanage account.

  “I hear your wife is giving a charity recital.” The Lord Admiral grinned at him, responding to the surprise surely evident on his face. “I happen to be a Fellow of the Royal Society. So
me of the Fellows heard her sing today, just a practice song or two. I understand she has the voice of an angel.”

  Romulus tried to keep the smile of pleasure off his face, but he doubted he’d succeeded. “She has, my lord.”

  “Then it is fortunate you will be here for her recital.” He turned to the other men as they all rose, the business concluded. “You all must go hear Captain Brayden’s lovely wife sing. It is for an excellent cause. St. Aubrey’s orphanage.” He came to Romulus’s side. “I have reason to know it,” he said quietly. “I will be there to support her.”

  “Thank you, my lord. She will be honored.”

  “Oh, and Brayden…”

  “Yes, my lord.” He silently cursed, for here it was, the hammer about to drop on his head.

  “I’ll be assigning you a new cabin boy.”

  One of the Lord Admiral’s by-blows? No, he didn’t seem the sort. More likely the by-blow of someone important. Perhaps someone connected to his family or that of a close friend. Likely, someone quite powerfully connected to whom the First Lord Admiral owed a favor. Why else would the man take personal interest in a cabin boy?

  Romulus did not particularly care who the lad was, for anyone put under his charge would receive the same treatment and protection. He’d keep this lad safe and well cared for.

  Indeed, if that was all demanded of him, then it was a relief.

  He needn’t be told to guard the boy with his life. It was ingrained in him. He’d fight to the death to protect a child. “Very good, my lord. I’ll watch over him.”

  “I know, Brayden. It puts my heart at ease.”

  Bollocks, he’d better not lose the boy.

  Who was this important lad?

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Romulus, you’re back early.” Violet took his arm as he strode into their townhouse. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and cast him a cheerful smile to hide her worry, but her stomach was in knots. Would he now confirm he had been ordered to sail to some distant shore and would not return for years?

  Somehow, she managed to remain calm. “I didn’t expect you until suppertime. I was about to go over to Aunt Sophie’s, but there’s no rush. I’m sure Honey and Belle are still unpacking. Anyway, I’d much rather hear what happened at the Admiralty.”

  He led her into his study and poured himself a brandy while he told her briefly what had transpired. They had another week together. It wasn’t nearly enough time, but she was grateful for every moment. She hung upon his every word as he related what had happened in Port Isaac.

  “So, this was a well thought out plan.” She shook her head in amazement. “The pirate fleet lured the ships under Erskine’s command out to sea on purpose? And he stayed behind? Making it easy for them to burn his frigate right there in the harbor? Oh, dear.”

  Her eyes widened. It felt as though she was listening to a tale of adventure written in a book. Unfortunately, these pirates were all too real.

  “Do you know who led the pirate attack?” she asked, now seated on the settee beside him and still hanging upon his every word.

  “No. But I’ll find out soon enough. This pirate captain thought he was being clever, showing off to the other pirates, smugglers, and assorted vermin who haunt the town. But all he’s done is rouse the ire of the king. Frigates are damned expensive, and the loss fell squarely on the royal treasury. The king will want his revenge for that.”

  “May I ask one last question?” In truth, she had a thousand more she wanted to ask, but he was obviously fatigued and the strain of his meeting showed in his eyes.

  He laughed. “Yes, love. Go ahead.”

  “Why haven’t the harbor master and Port Isaac council been replaced? They’re obviously in–”

  “Involved up to their eyeballs in smuggling and piracy? Quite possibly. But they are also protected by someone very high up in our government. Perhaps even within the king’s own inner circle. Some of the ill-gotten lucre may even be getting back into the king’s own hands. Who knows? It would be quite the jest, him burned—quite literally—for his own misdeeds.”

  Her eyes widened in horror. “Do you believe the king himself is involved?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t care. I’ll leave it to someone in government to handle that rattling snake.”

  She rang for light refreshments to be brought in. “How many lords do you think are in business with these smugglers and pirates?”

  “It could be all of them. I truly don’t know. I detest the politics of the situation. I’m a warrior, not a windbag. We are very different animals. I doubt we are in any way related. Warriors are trained to defend their country and place their own interests last. Politicians think of themselves first. They’d throw their own grandmothers to the wolves if it would advance their careers.”

  “I had no idea you were so cynical.”

  “It’s hard to patrol the Cornish coast and still feel optimistic about the charitable nature of man. Perhaps I am being too harsh. There are good men, lots of them. But the smuggling in and out of Cornwall seems to attract men of greed.”

  “Do you believe the king is one of them?”

  “No, not in any significant way. He is aware of what goes on and chooses not to do much about it. However, there is probably more damage to be done if he does come down too hard. It cannot be easy for him to control all these lords, and the general populace would be howling if they could not get around some of the taxes imposed. The king is no fool. He has to appease so many factions. I’m not there to stop the piracy and smuggling so much as to control it so it does not get too far out of hand.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s speak no more about it, love. The upshot is, I’ve been given back my old command.”

  “Patrolling the Cornish coast.”

  “It will keep me closer to home. Closer to you.”

  She nestled against him when he wrapped his arm around her to draw her close. “I said I had one last question, but I have another. Do you mind, Romulus?”

  “No, love. Ask it.”

  “What of the cabin boy? Do you know who he is?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “I’ll prepare a package for him. A sweater, mittens, scarf, and cap. I understand it can get cold out on the water. I’ll pack the same for you. Do you think he reads? I’ll add some books, too.” She nibbled her lip. “But what if he doesn’t read?”

  Romulus emitted a deep, rumbling laugh. “I wonder if his mother gives as much thought to him as you do. If he doesn’t know his letters, then I’ll read to him. Satisfied?”

  She nodded. “You’re a good man, Romulus Brayden.”

  He lifted her onto his lap. “No, I’m not. I’m a lecherous fiend who has an insatiable appetite for pretty brunettes with violet eyes.”

  She kissed him lightly on the lips, then drew back grinning. “I seem to have developed a fascination for big, green-eyed captains in the Royal Navy.”

  Romulus dipped his head to kiss her properly, but Violet darted off his lap as their butler rolled in the tea cart. “The refreshments,” she said breathlessly, trying not to look so guilty. It did not help that Romulus made no effort to hide his amusement or his hot gaze.

  It also seemed a little ridiculous that Romulus should eat before walking next door for supper with Violet’s family, but the two slices of pie he had devoured earlier in the day was not enough to sustain a man his size.

  Shortly afterward, Romulus walked her next door and settled in the library with her uncles while she skittered upstairs to greet her newly arrived cousins. They were unpacking their trunks in the bedchamber once shared by the twins, Lily and Dillie. But now that the twins were married, their room was used for visiting relatives. “Belle! Honey!”

  Violet’s cousins rushed to hug her. “Violet! You’ve been busy,” Honey said, not taking a breath before continuing in a mix of squeals and giggles that was so unlike her usually staid and composed cousin. “Aunt Sophie told us everything. I cannot believe yo
u’re married! I thought we three would be attending the balls, soirees, and musicales together, comparing our dance cards and commenting on the young bucks who seem most promising.”

  “And those who are to be crossed off our lists immediately,” Belle added with a grin.

  “Is your husband here?” Honey asked. “Oh, goodness! It sounds so odd. I still cannot wrap my head around the news.”

  “You’ll meet Romulus when we return downstairs. He’s wonderful.”

  Honey gave her another hug. “I can tell by your smile. Does he happen to have a brother of marriageable age for Belle?”

  Belle now frowned. “Stop, Honey. I don’t need you matchmaking for me. And what about you?”

  “Never mind about me,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re the one who ought to marry.”

  Belle turned to Violet. “Our parents will be furious when they find out Honey has no intention of finding herself a husband. She’s only here to keep me company.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Violet said. “Things happen, as I can attest. Romulus has no available brothers, but he does have some very handsome cousins. You’ll meet at least one of them soon. His name is Finn Brayden, and he’s helping me out with the charity recital. Has Aunt Sophie told you about it?”

  “Yes, we got an earful about all that went on this past week.” Belle shook her head and chuckled. “We’re so sorry we missed all the fun. Poor Aunt Sophie! Between worrying over her daughters and you, I’m amazed her hair has not turned completely gray. She begged us to stay out of trouble. We promised her we’d behave, but she merely sighed and gazed heavenward. I don’t think she believes us.”

  Violet couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s this street, Chipping Way. Things just happen.” She locked her arm in Belle’s. “Come, meet my husband.”

  The men walked out of the library when they heard the women come downstairs. Romulus was impossible to overlook, for he was much bigger than the other men. “Oh, my heavens,” Belle whispered. “That’s him?”

  Violet nodded.