by Merry Farmer
“Why hasn’t breakfast been brought out?” Albert asked.
Justice, Bourne, and the others exchanged sheepish looks. “We didn’t know what to do, sir. Mr. Sands is particular about the way we serve, and since he wasn’t there….”
“We’ve got tea going,” Bourne added. “And Pierre finally put his foot down and started making the morning pastry.”
“But no one thought to step up and take charge in the kitchen?” Albert was well aware that he sounded dangerously put out, but if his crew couldn’t maintain discipline, then he would have to start meting out punishments.
“I can do it,” Domenica piped up.
Albert turned to her, his frown melting into a look of surprise. “You can?”
She sent him a saucy grin. “Capitán, I am on my way to London to work as a cook. I have years of experience organizing the kitchen at…at my previous establishment. I know how to feed a crowd.”
Something warm thrummed in Albert’s heart. Not only was Domenica remarkable for her talents—and he was eager to discover more of them after the ones he’d been privilege to the night before—she was a sport for volunteering to help in his time of need.
“If you think you can do it,” he said.
Her back straightened. She planted a hand on her hip with a proud smile. “I know I can.”
Heat flooded Albert. He’d never met anyone like Domenica. It would be next to impossible to let her out of his sight, let alone to watch her walk down the gangplank when they reached London. But he’d worry about that when they got there.
He turned to his crew. “Miss Ortega is an experienced cook. You will follow her directions to get breakfast on the table for our passengers as soon as possible.”
“Aye-aye, captain,” his men answered, even though some glanced dubiously at Domenica.
“In the meantime, has anyone seen Mr. Renshaw?”
“Right here, captain.”
Albert turned—as did Domenica—to find Renshaw marching into the room. He’d never been so grateful for his First Officer’s efficiency.
“I hear Mr. Sands is missing?” Renshaw joined the group.
“We need to send out a team to search for him,” Albert said.
“We checked his room,” Bourne added. “He hasn’t been there.”
“I’ll send men to check again,” Renshaw said with a nod. “And I’ll have the whole ship scoured.”
“He probably fell overboard.”
The hair on the back of Albert’s neck stood up as the sly voice of William joined the discussion. He glanced past Renshaw to find William striding toward them, a gloating look on his face. Instantly, a knot of suspicion formed in Albert’s gut.
“Mr. Sands wouldn’t just fall overboard,” Justice said with a scowl, defending his superior.
“He might if he’d been drinking,” William said with a shrug. “And we were all drinking last night.”
“You saw Mr. Sands last night?” Renshaw asked, the light of suspicion in his eyes too.
“Of course. We all did,” William answered. “Even Miss Ortega.” He said Domenica’s name as though it were something sordid, looking at her with his lips curled up in a sneer.
Albert balled his hands into fists at his sides, ready to pummel the man into respecting the woman he l—
The shock over the emotion that flew so quickly to his mind steadied Albert’s senses. He darted a look to Domenica.
Rather than seeing the rage and offense he expected to find in her eyes, she frowned, chewing her lip.
“When did you last see him?” Renshaw asked. Albert was grateful that he, at least, was able to keep on the right tack.
“When the game broke up,” William said, sending a gloating sneer to both Domenica and Albert. “After the captain here left with Miss Ortega to claim his prize.”
An awkward silence fell over the group. Heat flooded up Albert’s neck to his face. He’d known his crew for years, some of them for more than a decade. They’d known him to enjoy the company of women before, but not for a while. He had no idea what William’s seedy implication would do to the way they looked at him.
The answer to that question came when Renshaw cleared his throat and frowned at William. “And what time was that?” he asked through a clenched jaw. The other crewmen joined him in staring daggers at William while subtly and silently standing up for Albert.
William’s smarmy grin dropped when he saw that, rather than bringing Albert down a notch, he’d irritated the crew. “About half past midnight,” he said.
“And that’s the last time you saw him?” Renshaw pressed on.
William blinked in offense. “You don’t think I had anything to do with the man’s disappearance, do you?”
From the looks that passed through the group, they all suspected him, but not one of them came out and said it. More than that, Domenica looked doubtful. Of all people, Albert would have suspected Domenica of shouting about William’s possible guilt from the rooftops.
Albert cleared his throat and shifted his stance. “We’ll worry about breakfast first. Renshaw, interview anyone who was on watch last night to see if they noticed Lewis on deck.”
“Aye-aye, captain.” Renshaw bowed, then marched out of the dining room. He sent William a scathing look as he went. William, wisely, walked away from the conversation to join Lady Patterson, who had been watching the whole thing from a table near the door.
“Domenica will supervise breakfast preparations,” Albert went on. “I’ll just have a word with her first.”
The kitchen crew and wait staff nodded and went about their business. Albert cupped Domenica’s elbow and led her to a space by the side of the room where he could speak to her without being overheard.
“You’re frowning,” he said, standing close to her. It felt good, in spite of the circumstances.
Domenica pursed her lips, staring across the room to where William was now fawning over Lady Patterson. “It couldn’t have been him,” she whispered.
“What?” Albert inched closer to her.
“We heard him,” she said in an even softer whisper. “Remember? He was in his room last night as we….” She finished with a pointed look.
A twinge of frustration hit Albert. “You’re right.” His frown deepened. He didn’t want to think it, but what if Lewis had drunk too much, or had jumped deliberately.
“Ask Lady Patterson,” Domenica went on.
“Lady Patterson?”
Domenica suddenly looked more embarrassed than he’d ever seen from her. A grin tugged at her full lips. “I ran into her as I was making my way back to my room this morning,” she said. “She hadn’t been able to sleep, so she was out wandering on the deck for most of the night.”
“So if Lewis had gone overboard, she would have seen it.”
Domenica nodded, then blinked. “Come to think of it, if she had seen someone fall or be pushed overboard, she would have said something right away.”
“And she didn’t?”
Domenica shook her head, the sly, sensuous grin coming back to her face. “We talked about…other things.” She brushed her fingers across his lapels.
A jolt of desire hit him, but with only a rakish grin, Albert pushed it away. He had a job to do.
“We need to make sure everything is taken care of,” he said, straightening and raising his voice. “If you can get the kitchen in order, I’ll work with Renshaw to see if we can determine why Lewis would suddenly be missing and what could have happened to him.”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” Domenica said, more serious than flirty.
He nodded to her, beyond grateful that she had come into his life when she had. “We’ll reconvene tonight to see if anything has been discovered.”
“I look forward to it, mi capitán.”
It took every ounce of will power Albert had not to kiss her before turning off and seeing to his duty.
CHAPTER 5
T aking charge of the Kestrel’s kitchens
turned into more of a job than Domenica ever could have imagined. Lewis must have been an efficient and organized leader, but every day his crew needed to prepare three meals for the ship’s seventy-eight first-class passengers and over three hundred people in steerage.
“And only about half of the berths have been sold for this journey,” Mr. Bourne told her as they finished cleaning up breakfast, only to launch right into luncheon.
“Half?” Domenica stared at him, hardly able to imagine a full passenger list.
“Aye. The Kestrel can accommodate a hundred and forty-five first-class passengers and twelve hundred in steerage, when she’s packed to the gills.”
Domenica shook her head. She’d lived so far inland for so much of her life that she’d imagined the ships that crossed the oceans were the same wooden tall-ships from illustrated books of pirates she’d read as a girl. But if steam power could cause trains to overtake stagecoaches as the means of traveling across land, it made perfect sense that steamships would eliminate vessels with sails. Although, as Albert had explained and as she’d seen when she boarded the ship, the Kestrel still had the capacity for sails if she ever needed them.
Albert. Her capitán. As busy as she was throughout the day, Domenica couldn’t stop thinking about him. She smiled at the memory of his teasing grin as he gazed at her in bed. Her body heated at the memory of his touch. But it was her heart that wouldn’t slow down or stop aching when she thought about his kindness, the protectiveness in his eyes, the way he’d let her have her way in bed. The least she could do was work diligently to keep his kitchen running smoothly as breakfast turned into lunch and lunch turned into preparations for supper.
By the end of the day, with night fallen and no news of Lewis to be had, Domenica was so exhausted she thought Albert might have to carry her back to her cabin when he arrived in the kitchen to check on her.
“I’m impressed,” he said, striding into the overheated, steamy room and looking around.
“With what?” Domenica asked. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her sleeve. Her skirt was stained from where she’d spilled a ladle of soup while preparing for lunch, and dark, damp circles stood out under her arms.
Albert grinned, swaying closer to her. “With you,” he answered.
Domenica’s heart leapt, then shivered inside of her. Heat that had nothing to do with the rows of ovens in the kitchen flooded her face. Try as she did to keep her bold, saucy mask in place, she glowed under the compliment as if she were a green girl flirting with her first vaquero. She had to force her back straight and her chin up, meeting Albert’s eyes with the confidence she usually displayed when dealing with men.
“I have many more ways to impress you, mi capitán,” she said with a tempting smile, and brushed her fingers along his cheek.
He caught her hand and held it against his chest. “I’m sure you do,” he said. There was sensuality in his eyes and voice, but something more than that. He was speaking to her, not the woman she pretended to be for all the world. Her playful smile melted to something far more tender. She couldn’t think of a word to say.
“You look tired,” he said, letting her hand go and changing to a businesslike tone. “Perhaps we could postpone our time together until we both feel more up to it.”
Domenica’s heart broke and soared at the same time. Was he actually thinking of her well-being above his own needs? But of course he was. This was Albert, not some slavering customer eager to get her on her back.
“Perhaps after breakfast tomorrow,” she answered, surprised at how vulnerable she sounded.
Albert offered her his arm. “Can I at least escort you back to your cabin?”
“Si, capitán.”
Domenica felt like a princess being escorted to a ball as Albert escorted her out of the kitchen. She was well aware of the half-hidden chuckles and broad grins of the kitchen staff who had watched the whole exchange. She would have sent them one of her witheringly proud looks to put them in their place, but on Albert’s arm, she found it hard not to slip out of character. It had never felt so wonderful to be the defenseless woman she knew herself to be under the bravado.
“Have you had any luck looking for Mr. Sands?” Domenica asked as they reached the hallway.
Albert sighed. “No. But I can’t believe he fell overboard without anyone noticing. Somebody would have seen or heard.”
“Like Lady Patterson?”
“Or any number of my crew who were on night watch.” He frowned, and Domenica was seized with the impulse to rub his shoulders and temples—and more—to ease his tension. “Something must have happened to Lewis, but I can’t for the life of me explain what that might be.”
“If he didn’t fall overboard, that means he’s still on the ship,” Domenica thought aloud.
“But where?”
They continued walking, turning a corner and heading toward the first-class stateroom in silence. Domenica hugged his arm, wishing she could come up with an answer that would make everything better.
As they turned the final corner to the corridor with both of their cabins, they came face-to-face with Second Officer Milton.
“Captain,” Milton said with a burst of surprise and, it seemed, relief.
“Milton.” Albert nodded, glancing to Domenica.
Milton sent her a quick look as well, then said, “I don’t want to interrupt you, but there’s something I thought you should know.”
“Oh?” Albert asked.
Milton shot Domenica another look. “After the two of you left the game last night, we continued playing.”
That much had seemed obvious to Domenica.
“And?” Albert asked.
Milton glanced up and down the hall, then leaned in closer. “And your friend, Lord William, lost a great deal of money to Lewis.”
Domenica caught her breath. “How much?”
“More than he had on him,” Milton said. “I’ve never seen betting like it. The stakes went very high, very fast. Lord William had to write an I.O.U.” He cleared his throat, glancing to Domenica again, his face reddening. “Only this one was for five thousand pounds.”
Domenica gasped. Albert let out a sound of incredulity.
“I told you the stakes went high,” Milton said. “And it dawned on me when I heard that Lewis had gone missing today that foul play could be involved.”
“But Lord William couldn’t have done it,” Domenica started.
Albert stopped her with a look. “Thank you, Milton.” He thumped the man on the arm with his free hand. “If you have a chance, report your information to Renshaw.”
“Aye-aye, captain.” Milton answered with a sharp nod, then continued down the hall past them.
“Lord William was in the room next to us last night,” Domenica reminded him as they continued on to her cabin. “He couldn’t have tossed Mr. Sands overboard.”
“I agree,” he said. “But if Lewis thought his life was in danger, he might have gone into hiding to save himself.”
“On a ship?” It didn’t seem likely, especially as Albert and most of the crew were likely to know the Kestrel inside and out.
Which, of course, meant Mr. Sands would know it inside and out too, including all of its hiding places.
They reached the door to Domenica’s cabin, and Albert let go of her arm. “I’m afraid I have to leave you here,” he said, raising her hand to kiss it.
The sweet gesture sent a bolt of lust through Domenica that was completely at odds with her perplexity over Lewis’s disappearance.
“We’ll take our stroll tomorrow,” Albert continued. “In the meantime, I have questions that need answers.”
“I understand.”
And yet, she couldn’t let him leave like that. As he turned to go, she grabbed his hand and tugged him back. Without a care for who might show up in the hallway and see them, she slipped her arms around Albert and lifted to her toes to kiss him. It wasn’t a shy kiss, it ca
me from the place inside of her that was genuine and true. Albert responded with instant passion of his own, pressing her against the wall and pinning her with the weight of his body. His hands swept up her sides to cradle her breasts. It didn’t matter that she was weary and bedraggled from a long day of working, he kissed her as though she were a beautiful maiden in a fairy tale.
At last, he stepped back. “Tomorrow,” he said, his voice gruff with need.
All Domenica could do was nod and clutch her hand to her heart as she watched him stride away to do his duty.
Domenica was a distraction. That much was undeniable. But if anyone had suggested to Albert that he give her up, even if the person making the suggestion were a part of himself, he would argue them into silence. He had never felt as vibrant and purposeful as he did in the moments he stole with her. And ironically, it was knowing that she was there—both to take charge of his kitchen and to give him the confidence to continue his investigation—that spurred him on to discover what happened to Lewis with dogged determination.
“I’ve ruled out the possibility that he went overboard,” he confided in Domenica late the next morning, as they finally took their walk.
It had taken a stern, if somewhat personally embarrassing, conversation with Justice to explain why he needed to step up and take charge in the kitchen. Justice was loathe to step on Lewis’s toes out of respect for his usual superior, but one man to another, he saw how badly Albert wanted to spend time with Domenica, and with a wink and a nudge had said he’d do his best.
“Which means he must be on the ship somewhere,” Domenica agreed. She hugged his arm, walking close to him to ward off the cold breeze blowing off the ocean. “But where?”
Albert shrugged. “With the cargo in one of the holds. In an unclaimed cabin. Even in one of the lifeboats. He could be anywhere.”
Domenica hummed, glancing around the deck. She paused to stare at the rows of carefully secured lifeboats, covered in canvas, lining the outer sides of the decks. “It would be easy to hide in one of those, but so cold.”
“If Lewis was desperate enough….” He didn’t finish his sentence.
They walked out past the cabins and onto the wide foredeck. Several passengers were taking the sun and the air there, but it was Lady Patterson and Lord William who drew his, and Domenica’s, attention. Lady Patterson sat in a chair that faced the ocean in front of the ship. She had blankets tucked around her, and the fur of her hat and collar fluttered in the sea breeze. William fluttered to her side, looking chilled to the bone but eager to please. Albert was too far away to hear what the whelp was saying to Lady Patterson, but judging by the simpering look on William’s face, he didn’t want to. Lady Patterson’s red-nosed, miserable-looking maid, Polly, hugged herself and danced from foot-to-foot a few feet away, as if waiting, even hoping, to be sent on an errand somewhere warmer.
