Genny drew a deep breath. “Actually, I couldn’t imagine you marrying either. Or me, for that matter. Oh, dear. This is going to be excessively difficult. There’s a lot to tell you. First of all, your name is Alec Carrick, fifth Baron Sherard. Next, we just survived a hurricane in a Baltimore clipper schooner.”
He considered this and said, “I thought your accent was different. You’re an American?”
“Yes, and you’re an Englishman. Now, you just lie still and I’ll tell you about things.”
“All right.”
Where to begin? “Well, you came to Baltimore only a month ago to look over my shipyard. My father and I needed a partner, one with money. You thought I was Mr. Eugene Paxton, but I wasn’t really, and you realized it almost immediately and took me to a brothel to punish me and make me confess and—”
He moaned. “Did I really do that? Take you to a brothel?”
She grinned down at him. “Yes, you did, that’s not the half of it, sir. Then—”
Alec fell asleep long before she’d finished her recital. His color was better, she thought, studying his impossibly handsome features. He was breathing easily; his body was warm. She carefully unwound the bandage from his head and examined the wound. The flesh was pink and healthy-looking.
Dull gray light came through the stern windows into the cabin. It was better than rain, that was certain. Genny rebandaged Alec’s head, then eased slowly out of the bunk, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband.
My husband of less than a week and he doesn’t know who I am.
Life had sometimes been a bit tedious before Alec had come to Baltimore. Now it was nothing but one surprise after another. But this surprise he hadn’t intended. It was nearly beyond belief. She couldn’t take it all in, even now. What about him? How was he feeling? She couldn’t begin to imagine. She did know that he needed her, and that all the rules had changed.
He was breathing deeply and slowly. Healthy sleep. She dressed in dry clothing and went on deck.
“How is Hank?” Genny asked Daniels.
“He’ll be up and about in a couple of days. Bruised like a Continental flag, but all right. His lordship?”
“Like Hank, he’ll be all right in a couple of days. But there is one thing—”
“Yes?”
“He doesn’t know who he is, Daniels, or who I am, or anything about the race, the wager—nothing.”
“You mean that blow on the head gave him aneri—amosei—”
“Amnesia, I think it’s called. That’s it. His head was hurting badly, but he’s sleeping now.”
“My God.”
“Yes,” said Genny and turned to look at the great splinted mast that lay nearly the length of the deck, then out over the water, its canvas trailing white against the blue of the sea. Its splintered stalk stood six or so feet off the deck, and looked incredibly fragile. “I must stay close to him. Can you imagine not knowing who you are?” She shook her head at her own question and could only begin to imagine the fear that would accompany such a realization.
“What are we going to do?”
“Why, take him back to Baltimore, of course. I need to speak to Alec’s first mate and to O’Shay. We’ll be able to maneuver a bit, but I want the bark to stay close.”
“And the mast?”
Genny looked thoughtfully at the sixty-odd feet of spruce. Her mind went blank for a moment at the notion of the replacement cost. Then she shook her head. “Let the mast remain where it is. Have one of the men crawl out and secure the canvas to the mast so there isn’t so much drag. The last thing we want is for the mast to pull the ship over. Also, have it lashed more securely to the railing.”
“Aye, aye, Capt’n,” said Snugger and grinned at her.
Alec lay in the bunk, not moving, simply staring at the cabin furnishings. He’d memorized them. It was a hell of a lot better than thinking and thinking and trying to figure out who he was, what he’d been. His head hurt.
He was scared. He didn’t like to be scared. It wasn’t an emotion he was particularly used to. It went to part and parcel with helplessness and that was unacceptable to him. He cursed softly. At least he hadn’t forgotten how to do that. He forced himself to concentrate on the carving on the captain’s desk. It was intricate, obviously done by a superb craftsman. For an instant, he saw a man sitting cross-legged on the floor, an array of knives and other tools beside him on a flat cloth, and he was carving on this desk. The man was dark and full-bearded. Alec tried desperately to cling to him, but he was gone in the next instant.
Well, it had been something. He would ask Genny about him.
When she walked into the cabin his first words were, “The man who carved this desk, describe him to me.”
“He’s very dark, middle-aged, I guess you’d say, and he has more hair than half a dozen men.”
“Ah.”
Genny moved closer and stood staring down at him. He took her hand and pulled her onto the bunk. “I saw him,” Alec said. “Just for a moment, but I saw him.”
Genny’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful.” Without thinking about it, she leaned down, clasped his face between her hands, and kissed him soundly. He grew very still. She raised her head and stared at him.
“Genny,” he said. He brought her head back down, holding her with his hand cupped about the nape of her neck.
He kissed her this time, slowly, but she tasted his hunger and responded to it.
“You’re my wife,” he said into her mouth, his breath warm and sweet from the wine he’d drunk at lunch earlier. “My wife.”
But he didn’t remember her. It was as if he sensed her restraint, her uncertainty, the strangeness between them. He released her and watched her through troubled eyes as she straightened.
“We’re moving slowly, as you can feel, but we are moving. Your bark is staying close. I left the mast where it landed. It isn’t too much of a drag on us. Mr. Pitts sent over clothing for you. Actually, it was flung over and landed on deck, thank God. If you would like to dress, I’ll help you.”
“When do you think we’ll be back in Baltimore?”
“At our impressive rate of speed, I’d say another three days. It’s very slow going, Alec.”
“I have a daughter.”
“Yes, you have. Do you remember her name?”
“Do you think the blow made me into a village idiot as well as blanking out my memory? I’m not an imbecile, Genny. You told me about Hallie. What does she look like?”
“Like you. In other words, she’s incredibly beautiful.”
He frowned at her. “Beautiful? I’m a man, Genny. That’s absurd.”
“No, it’s quite true. You are, at least in my humble opinion, the most handsome man God ever made. Well, no, that’s not really true. It’s more than just my opinion. You see, Alec, you walk down a street and women turn and stare at you.”
“That’s ridiculous. Give me a mirror.”
Genny rose and rummaged through her chest. She found a silver-backed mirror that had been her mother’s. She handed it to him silently.
Alec stared at a pale-faced stranger. He didn’t know his own face. “Beautiful? Dear God, I have enough stubble for half a dozen men. A desperate need to shave, that’s all I can see.”
She smiled at him, shaking her head. “I can do that for you, if you like. Also, if you would like to bathe—”
“Yes,” he said. “I should like that very much. Then you can tell me more about my background.”
“I don’t know any more than I’ve already told you, Alec. We’ve not known each other long, and you know much more about me than I do about you. You’re Alec Carrick, Baron Sherard. I know you have a number of homes in England, but you’ve never told me where they are.”
“I see. Yes, I remember now, you mentioned that before.”
“And you were married, but your wife—her name was Nesta—she died birthing Hallie.”
In that instant, something opened in his mind. It was like a
door suddenly swinging wide, and he saw a laughing young woman, her belly swelled with child, and she was saying something to him about presents for their people. Then he saw her lying on her back in bed, and her eyes were open but they were staring, and he knew she was dead. “Oh, God. I just saw her. Nesta, I mean. She was alive and then she was just—dead.”
Genny heard the anguish in his voice and rushed to sit beside him. She stroked his jaw with her fingertips. “I’m so sorry, Alec. Don’t let these things hurt you. You’ll remember good things, too, not just bad parts. Remember your image of Mimms? It wasn’t bad.”
She shaved him, then had a bucket of hot water fetched. He insisted that he could bathe himself. She supposed even a man—a creature who didn’t seem to have a modest bone in his body—was reticent with a woman who claimed she was his wife but whom he couldn’t remember. So she left him, praying he was strong enough not to fall and break a leg.
When she returned, he was fully dressed, sitting at the desk, studying some papers.
“My, don’t you look ready for the Assembly Room.”
“Assembly Room? You have those in the colonies?”
“Don’t be a snob. Wait, you know there are assembly rooms in England?”
“Yes, I know. I don’t know how I know, but I do. You’re captaining this vessel?”
“Yes.” Unconsciously she raised her chin just a bit, waiting for him to say something, to insist that she wasn’t capable, that he would take over now.
But he didn’t. He merely sat there, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I imagine that is very unusual,” he said finally. “You, a woman, being captain of a vessel.”
“I suppose it is, but you needn’t worry. I’m quite good.”
He gave her a warm smile. “If I married you, I would assume that you are more than good. Superior, I should say.”
She said very slowly, simply staring at him, “You don’t mind me being your captain?”
“Why should I? You got us through a hurricane, you said. You seem intelligent and well spoken. As for how you are in bed, well, as I said, you have beautiful breasts. For the rest of it, time will tell.”
“Time usually does.”
They both fell silent, Genny thinking that it was stranger than Alec could possibly imagine. Here he was, not minding at all that she was captain. As if to reflect her thoughts, he said, “This is the oddest thing.”
“What is?”
“Sitting here, on board a vessel, not knowing who I am and wondering why I’m not the captain. I know deep down somewhere that I should be.”
She said carefully, trying to keep her voice on an even keel, “You were the captain of the barkentine that follows just behind us. It’s your vessel, in fact. You own about half a dozen, I believe you told me.”
He waved aside her comment. “Yes, I know, but that’s not it.” He sighed then and absently rubbed at the clean bandage wrapped around his forehead. “Don’t mind me. It’s just—”
“Don’t be absurd, Alec. You’re aboard my clipper and thus my responsibility, and besides, I happen to care about you. I know you must be feeling tip over arse—”
“Tip over what?” A beautiful smile appeared. It was as if the sun had just broken through the clouds to shine on her head.
“It’s just a saying.”
“Did I catch my modest little wife saying something naughty?”
“Just a bit naughty.”
“Shall I punish you? Perhaps bring you across my legs and pull down those ridiculous breeches you’re wearing?”
“Alec, now I see that you simply don’t forget some things. You’re outrageous and will always be so, memory or no memory.”
He leaned his head back, suddenly exhausted.
“Come to bed,” she said, her hand lightly on his forearm.
“Will you come with me?”
“Yes.”
If he’d had any sexual thoughts in his mind, they disappeared in a thrice. Genny scarce had time to curl up against his side before he was breathing evenly and deeply in sleep.
“I do wonder what I would have done if you had proved amorous,” she said aloud to herself, then rose to leave him. “I probably would have delighted in everything you did to me.” She shook her head, suddenly bemused. Would he remember how to make love? Remember all the wonderful things he did? She supposed she would see soon enough. She left him. He slept throughout the afternoon.
“North Point, at last,” Snugger said with great satisfaction.
“Nearly home,” Daniels said.
Alec stood silent, staring toward the city of Baltimore. He looked toward Fort McHenry and a memory flickered briefly. Then he looked toward Fells Point. “The Paxton shipyard is there, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Snugger.
Alec merely nodded and answered a shout from Abel Pitts on the barkentine.
He remembered Nesta—an odd name—and he’d briefly seen a face, a laughing, pretty face. Then he’d seen her dead. Soon he would see his daughter. That was an awesome thought. He needed to ask Genny more about Hallie. He didn’t want the child to be frightened of him.
“Hello.”
“Hello yourself,” he said, turning to face his male-clothed wife. He eyed the wool cap and the loose blouse with its leather vest. “I want to see you in a gown.”
“You will.”
“This wager. Tell me about it again.”
She’d given him the barest outline. It didn’t occur to her to lie to him, to twist things to her advantage. “The problem,” she finished some minutes later, “is that the conclusion is inconclusive, I guess you’d say. Who is the winner? I think we both are, since we both survived. But what to do? I don’t know, Alec. I would prefer—” She broke off, studying her fingernails.
“You would prefer that I deed the shipyard over to you and leave you alone?”
“Yes, no, well, half of that.”
“Which half?”
“The shipyard. It’s mine. It should stay mine.”
“Why did your father make his will to your disadvantage? Were you at odds with him?”
She swallowed. “No, it wasn’t like that at all. Oh, I might as well tell you all of it.”
He said, very softly, “Did you lie to me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Now listen to me, we haven’t much time before we dock. My father was sick. I was running the shipyard. I was building the Pegasus. The problem was that none of the wonderful men of Baltimore would buy her simply because I—a woman—was responsible for building her. Well, my father thought I would lose everything if he died. And he cared mightily for you and your daughter. He even invited you and Hallie to come and live with us, which you did. Then he decided that you would make him a fine son-in-law. He willed the shipyard to you with the proviso that you marry me. It was you who came up with the wager—”
“As salve to your pride?”
That was it exactly. “That sounds awfully bald.”
“But true. Now, my dear Genny, what the devil are we going to do? If I deed the shipyard over to you, you will lose everything. Even you admit that.”
“Perhaps.”
“You got us through the hurricane. I think you’re a fine captain, despite the weakness of your sex. No, don’t draw up on me, I’m just teasing you. Incidentally, what was I doing on the clipper? Why wasn’t I captaining my own vessel?”
It was now time for a lie, a wonderful bouncing lie. It came out of her mouth with scarce a pause, her conscience telling her that it was a bit true, a very little bit true. “You thought we were going to drown. You wanted to be with me.”
He frowned at that. “But you said I married you only because of the shipyard.”
“You did—do—like me, I think.”
“Since I don’t know myself, I can’t be certain, but it seems to me, Genny, that I most certainly wouldn’t marry a woman that I simply liked.”
“You’d also seduced me.”
“Good God. I must have enjoyed that. Di
d you enjoy your seduction?”
Her eyes never left his face. She smiled. “Immensely.” “Were you a virgin?”
“Yes. You called me a long-in-the-tooth virgin.”
“So I married you because I’d deflowered you and because of the shipyard?”
“You were quite fond of my father also.”
“Captain.”
“Yes, Smugger?” She turned to speak to her first mate. She added to Alec with a pleasant smile, “Excuse me. I must see to things. Just relax, and stop worrying.”
But he couldn’t, of course.
They docked before he had a chance to ask more about his daughter. And there she was, waiting on the wharf with an older woman, gaunt and severe-looking as the devil.
“Papa!”
That was him, he supposed, taking in the child’s features and reflecting that they were very much like his own. He waved to her and called out, “Hello, Hallie.”
“Did you win?”
“I’ll tell you everything soon.”
His daughter knew of the blasted wager? Then he saw many people converging on the two vessels, men and women alike. What was he, a local diversion? He simply didn’t understand all this interest.
“They’re all here to see who won,” Genny said, and realized in that moment that she should have told him all of the truth. She sighed. “Just follow my lead, Alec. No one need know that you cracked your head into oblivion. I spoke to Daniels and Snugger. They won’t say anything.”
“You think not?”
“No, I don’t think so, but if they do, we’ve at least bought some time. I want to get you home and into bed.”
His head was aching just a bit, not enough to prevent a lecherous smile from appearing.
She grinned up at him and poked him in the ribs. “There’s your daughter. Mrs. Swindel, her companion and nanny, is with her. She’s romancing Dr. Pruitt, your ship’s doctor. They’re both kindhearted, but in their view of the world there’s always a black lining to the clouds, even on a sunny day.”
She stopped, seeing his brow furrow in concentration and in pain.
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