by Susan Lodge
REBELLIOUS CARGO
Susan Lodge
Copyright © 2015 by Susan Lodge
Photography: Hitdelight; Romance Novel Covers
Cover Design: Soqoqo Design
Editor: Christine McPherson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Crooked Cat Publishing except for brief quotations used for promotion or in reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Crooked Cat Publishing at Smashwords
First Crooked Love Cats Edition, Crooked Cat Publishing Ltd. 2015
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Acknowledgments
Thanks as always to my patient and supportive family who during the writing of this novel have put up with my continual mental escapes to a nineteenth-century frigate, my bouts of deafness and constant cursing at the foibles of my computer.
Many thanks to Crooked Cat Publishing for their encouragement, expertise, and support in publishing my novels.
About the Author
Susan Lodge’s first publication was a story purchased by a national woman’s magazine. Heady with this breakthrough she went on to write and secure a publisher for her historical novels.
Susan has a science degree and always wanted to be an astronaut, but instead spent most of her career in the Civil Service working in various cities in the South of England including London.
She loves spell checks, chocolate, musical theatre and tinkering on her piano and still harbours the idea of taking a space flight, but needs to write a best seller first.
Susan is married, has two children and now lives in Hampshire.
Find her at www.susanlodge.com!
Rebellious Cargo
Chapter One
Spring 1803
The Aegean Sea
Damnation! They had found her.
Jane Charlesworth’s eyes rounded as she watched the naval frigate anchor in the bay. It was far too large to enter the sheltered harbour of the sleepy Greek island so there it sat, like a cat at a mouse hole. Securing her straw hat with one hand and hitching up her skirt with the other, she turned back along the quayside and called to her companion.
“Leave that, Celine, we need to get back to the Elinora. Now!”
Celine put down the carving she was examining from the traders' stall and swivelled around. “Why the rush?”
“Look.” Jane pointed a shaky finger towards the frigate.
Celine took a moment to focus across the shimmering water. “So much for giving them the slip,” she muttered, her face stiff with anger as she turned to follow.
As they reached the top of the Elinora’s gangway, Celine disappeared below whilst Jane scanned the deck. She soon sought out the burly, grey-haired figure of the captain, whose eyes were also fixed on the naval frigate, his hands clenched tightly behind his back. She moved to his side, willing her voice to remain calm.
“Are the repairs completed, Captain? If so, I think we should be on our way.”
Captain John Able turned to her not bothering to hide his exasperation. “Are you mad, Mrs. Charlesworth? That ship will blow us out the water if we as much as crank the anchor – out-manoeuvring her yesterday was the most cork brained notion. And, in case you have forgotten, we have a damaged foremast; we’re stuck here for another two days at least.” He shook his head wearily. “I’m in for a hellishly uncomfortable interview with the officers of that naval frigate.”
Jane squared her shoulders. “I will take the responsibility, Captain, this ship still belongs to me.”
“Aye it does, but I am the fool who followed your orders. Why are we running from them anyway?”
She ignored the question and looked out across the bay. He had no idea of the silent terror unfolding in her chest, making it impossible to reply. The naval frigate had already dispatched a jolly boat. A blue-and-gold figure sat godlike in the stern as it steadily approached, propelled by the military precision of the oarsmen.
Why couldn’t they just leave her in peace? After all this time she had hoped they had forgotten her. When she had received her last mail dispatch from England, she had been directed to report to the nearest naval garrison where a ship would be sent to collect her. She had ignored it, hoping the Admiralty would tire of pursuing her. If her skills were required, she would go back to England in her own good time, aboard her own vessel.
“I fear it is I they will want to interview. Have them shown below when they arrive. Do not worry, Captain Able, I will exonerate your actions.”
Jane’s hand trembled on the rail as she went below. She was not a woman to be easily intimidated, but men in blue and gold sent shivers of repulsion right to her core. Not only had they failed her father, they had failed her. She had suffered quite enough shameful treatment whilst under the so-called protection of the Admiralty.
Sitting behind the desk in the main cabin, Jane steeled herself for the confrontation. A movement at the door made her look up. Celine leaned against the doorframe, her perfectly sculptured, ebony face lacking her usual smile.
“Do not worry, Jane. If you have to leave the Elinora, I will accompany you. I will not let anything happen to you this time.”
Jane frowned at her closest friend. They had looked out for each other since her late father had rescued Celine from a slave ship twelve years ago. He had initially meant to employ her as Jane’s maid, but through the years, as they matured from girl to womanhood, they had developed a bond which soon surpassed a mistress and servant relationship.
Since Jane had left England a year ago, she had spent her time trying to keep the Elinora profitable. Shortly after her father’s death she had married his business partner, Andrew Charlesworth. But they had barely shared two months of wedlock before he had also been taken from her. All the shipping business had been passed to Andrew’s nephew, except the Elinora. It was the one thing she insisted on keeping and Andrew’s heir had agreed.
But although her father had always invested in shipping, Charles Clayfield had been born to a far different trade. He had been England’s finest cryptologist. The vocation had been passed from father to son through four generations. With no brothers, she had battled at first for the privilege of carrying on the tradition. But her father had not resisted after she had displayed an aptitude for the family skill.
Celine walked over and perched her willowy frame on the corner of the desk. “I shouldn’t have let you travel the last time without me. I will not make the same mistake again.”
Jane’s shoulders slumped as she continued to write notes against the ship’s manifest. “You were sick, Celine. It wasn’t your fault. I hope I don’t have to leave, but if I do, you will remain here – it’s a dangerous life on a naval frigate.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she added bitterly, “In my limited experience.”
Celine rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such an idiot! We face trouble together, you know that. And in any case, there is no ship on earth that can be worse than a slaver.”
Jane groaned and rubbed her temples. How stupid of her to warn Celine, of all people, about harsh sailing conditions after the nightmare of being incarcerated on a slave ship.
She gave her an apologetic smile. “Of course not. I suppose I couldn’t stop you anyway. Let’s just wai
t and see what our pursuers want before we decide.”
Jane stood, dusted her skirts down and pushed back an unruly lock of hair. She was several inches shorter than Celine and often wished she possessed some of her friend’s feline elegance.
As the ship’s owner, she tried to conduct herself with an air of grace as well as authority. But today the grace part was definitely missing – all she wanted to do was run and hide. However, the two women understood each other’s moods completely and only Celine knew the roots of Jane’s hatred of His Majesty’s Navy.
Jane’s fingers tensed around the edge of the desk as she heard the boat come alongside. The knot tightened in her stomach as she sat back down and waited, straight-backed, for the visitors to be brought to her. This was still her ship, and whilst on board they were going to know it. She swallowed, sensing the worst. They wouldn’t have sent a frigate this far east if it wasn’t important – but she wasn’t about to go quietly.
***
Captain Adam Marston was livid. His eyes blazed as he followed John Able below deck. After chasing the Elinora for days, he was embarrassingly aware that whoever was navigating this ship knew these waters a lot better than he did.
Although he had never met Jane Charlesworth, the name filled him with anger. Vital to the Service she might be, but why had he been given the job of chasing around after her? His orders, delivered whilst patrolling outside Toulon, had not been the ones he had been expecting. After months of duty attached to Sir Richard Bikerton’s squadron, he had been eager to be part of the impending action brewing, as the uneasy truce with the French was about to dissolve. Why the hell had he been chosen for this tiresome chore of picking up a bluestocking? A reluctant one at that, judging by the chase this ship had given him.
As Adam entered the cabin, the preconceived vision he had of the bluestocking was shattered as John Able did the introductions.
“Captain Marston, may I present Mrs. Jane Charlesworth – owner of the Elinora.” John Able looked warily from one to the other obviously expecting trouble. Adam was shocked, this woman clearly had the upper hand on this ship.
He studied her silently for a few seconds.
She was attractive, damn it! He had hoped – no expected – her to be plain; and he hadn’t anticipated someone so young. Given her known accomplishments, and the fact she was a widow, he had predicted a woman of more mature years. Her mahogany-coloured hair had been loosely secured at the back of her neck with a white ribbon, and her skin glowed with an unfashionable tan. Despite her dress being high-necked and a subtle grey shade, he couldn’t prevent being distracted by the soft swell of her breasts. His mouth dried and he quickly lifted his gaze back to take in her slender neck and fine-boned features.
“Captain, do sit down.” Jane Charlesworth gestured curtly to the chair on the other side of her desk. The smile she gave him did not hide the contempt in her eyes. Adam did not return the smile; the authoritative and slightly impudent tone of her voice conveyed a boldness which tested his already stretched patience. For one who had caused him so much inconvenience, he had expected some sign of remorse on her part.
He remained standing and, after giving her a brief bow, turned back to John Able. He wanted to take someone to task and he felt more comfortable venting his fury on the captain of the vessel and not some madam, who looked at him as if he was a rather tiresome schoolboy.
He cleared his throat. “Why did you disobey my orders to heave to yesterday?”
Able hesitated and stole a glance at the woman. Had the man no backbone? Was he not captain of this vessel? To Adam’s astonishment, the bluestocking answered for him.
“I gave the order. I own this ship. We had repairs to see to and I didn’t want to linger making small talk with passing vessels.”
Adam’s eyes widened at her rudeness. He pointedly ignored her and turned back to the captain. “How dare you disobey a command of His Majesty’s Navy, Captain Able – you deliberately tried to lose us?”
“It wasn’t difficult,” the woman muttered, before Able could reply.
Adam again ignored the insult and continued to address the unfortunate Able. “You were lucky you weren’t fired upon and blown out of the water.”
Again she answered for him. “Really, Captain, if your aim is as poor as your navigation then I doubt we would have been harmed.”
Adam’s body stiffened. He slowly turned to her, “Do not doubt it any more, madam. I will have you thrown in my brig if you do not control your tongue.” Never before had anyone dared to even whisper a criticism against his seamanship – and remain conscious.
They shared a mutual glare of aversion until she finally lowered her gaze with a shrug. He was gratified to detect a touch of fear in her eyes.
Captain Able, sweating heavily, finally managed to speak. “I am sure we can iron out any problems in a civilised way.”
Adam eyed him as if he had just crawled out of a ship’s biscuit. “I am puzzled in the way you lack command of your ship?”
Able glared back at him, obviously feeling the need to claw back a little of his pride. “Perhaps you will state your reason for boarding us, sir?”
Reluctantly Adam knew he could not avoid having to converse with the irksome woman any longer. “I have business with Mrs. Charlesworth. I require to speak to her in private.”
He watched as Able looked towards the woman, no doubt seeking permission to depart. She gave him a reassuring nod.
“You best leave us. I will be fine. I am sure Captain Marston will behave in a civilised way despite his aggressive tone.”
***
Jane wasn’t at all sure of her safety as John Able disappeared through the cabin door, but she was impatient to know the reason for Captain Marston’s visit. The sooner he stated his business the sooner the brute could get off her ship.
Arrogant ass, she silently assessed, as she studied the man whose gaze locked on hers with the assumption that she should be humbled by his presence. Quelling her fear she waited for him to begin, whilst wishing she had the capability to plant a fist right between those stone-grey eyes, which were regarding her with such disapproval.
Her face flushed in remorse at the way she had embarrassed Captain Able. He might be the grumpiest person she had ever known, but he had been a loyal and competent adviser about the local trading routes. Involving him in her personal vendetta and distaste for His Majesty’s Navy was not well done. She was letting her fear and resentment get in the way of common sense. Antagonising the captain of a naval ship was just plain foolishness.
She watched as Captain Marston lowered himself into the seat opposite her. She could see his face clearer now. A faded scar ran from the corner of his left eye down to the edge of his firm square chin. On a woman – and certain men – it would be disfiguring, but he wore it like an adornment, on a face that breathed arrogance. His hair was brushed back from his face, sleek and dark as a raven’s wing. She cursed her body as it trembled under his scrutiny. His mere bulk dominated the space, and his cold gaze violated her privacy, casting her mind back to a day she had tried to rip from her memory.
***
Adam considered the almond-shaped brown eyes that challenged his. The feeling of apprehension on his journey over to this vessel had trebled in the last few minutes. Everything about Jane Charlesworth disturbed him. She was no classic beauty, but she did possess a small straight nose and full soft lips, despite her venomous tongue. The brows of her defiant eyes rose as she silently invited an explanation. Meeting her stare, he turned his thoughts back to his unwelcome task, feeling rather like he did when about to take on a heavier gunned French ship.
“I have orders, madam, to commission your services on behalf of the Government. I must ask you to accompany me to my vessel where you will receive further instructions on the duties required of you, after we sail.” He delivered the words with a distaste, which he didn’t bother to disguise.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t seem unduly surprised. Well, s
he bloody well shouldn’t be, after disobeying government orders. He watched her lower her eyes and study the top of the desk until her gaze levelled with his again. Although outwardly she showed no sign of fear, the anger that matched his own, simmered beneath the soft planes of her face.
“Well, Captain, you have asked me – and I decline the invitation. Now if you don’t mind, I have a busy schedule. I will leave for England as soon as it is convenient, under my own conveyance, and report to the Admiralty without your service.”
He sighed, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
Adam studied her for a few seconds; despite her rude reply, he had sensed a slight chink in her bravado. Finally he leaned forward in his chair.
“Oh, but I do mind – it is not an invitation I bring, madam, but a command. My orders are to take you aboard my ship without delay. I have already wasted a week scouring the waters for you – and your selfish, evasive tactics have cost precious time. As it is I’m sure your vessel will make do well enough without you.”
“Do you indeed? How astute of you, Captain, to come to that conclusion.” Brown eyes flashed at him but her voice had turned quiet and unnervingly sweet. “It is a pity the Admiralty cannot seem to make do without me. As for your orders, you know where you can stick them.”
Adam considered her words without changing his expression. His orders were often received with dismay by their recipients, but never – even from the enemy – had he ever been given such a coarse reply.
