Threads of Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “Far worse.” He swallowed then dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Once I hired a man who thought he’d save money by ordering meat from an inferior butcher. In a few days’ time the kitchen was vermin-infested.”

  At once Daniel regretted the gaffe, but Julianna didn’t even flinch.

  “I recall a man known to us on the street as Fang because of the way his teeth hung off his lower lip. He always said a little vermin never killed a man, especially if he’s starving to death.” Amusement danced in her eyes.

  But Daniel failed to find the humor in it. Instead his chest constricted with anguish. The horrors this young woman must have known as a girl . . . and yet she smiled as she recollected such a one.

  He watched Julianna fork a bite of fried potatoes into her mouth. She amazed him again. No swooning. No loss of appetite due to this most distasteful discussion. It told Daniel of her courage. She’d probably overcome anything.

  And he hadn’t forgotten how she’d assisted Dr. Morrison on board with Whitley’s broken leg only days after suffering a brutal attack herself.

  “Captain, is something wrong?”

  “I beg your pardon?” He pried himself from his thoughts.

  “You’re staring at me.” She touched her face, and then the neckline of her blouse. “Is anything amiss with me attire—I mean, my attire?”

  He gave her a gentle grin. “No, and I do apologize. I was just deep in thought.”

  “Oh, I know what you’re thinking.” She lifted a brow. “It’s about your countess, isn’t it?”

  His smile ebbed. “Actually, no.” He hadn’t thought much about Reagan since leaving London. “I, um, thought that perhaps you’ll need another dress for the party tonight. Something more formal.”

  “Oh, no, Captain, really . . . ”

  “I insist. It will be a birthday gift.”

  “Another one?” She gave her head a wag in protest. “A formal gown is far too impractical for me.”

  “Eliza will insist you’re dressed appropriately.”

  That quelled her protests, and Daniel felt a tad ashamed for the manipulative ploy.

  “You’re a wonderful man.” Julianna lowered her gaze and ran the tongs of her fork aimlessly around her plate, but Daniel caught sight of the pretty blush creeping into her cheeks. “You’re honorable in the highest sense of the word.”

  “Not that honorable.” Now he felt downright guilty.

  “Well, you can’t change me mind. I’m stubborn that way.”

  “You don’t say?” He grinned when her gaze popped up to meet his.

  When she saw he teased her, she rolled her eyes just as saucy-as-you-please. Daniel chuckled. She was adorable—and quite the temptation.

  Too much so, perhaps.

  Daniel watched as she sipped her juice. He’d been a fool to think he could resist her all the way to Wisconsin.

  He sat back in his chair, thinking, wondering over his own poor judgment in that regard. But there was still time to correct it. Perhaps he’d bring a couple of the Ramseys’ staff along for chaperoning. He’d talk to George about it. It only made sense. A lady’s maid for Julianna and a valet for himself while they journeyed. There would be little time for Julianna and him to be alone and tempted. Daniel had known for quite some time that she was his weakness. One wrong move too far, and he’d be forever haunted just as George was now.

  He folded his arms and looked on as Julianna smiled and stared out over the terrace.

  “Such a beautiful day,” she murmured again.

  The light breeze toyed with the wisps of hair coiling at her temples. What a lovely and innocent picture she made—

  And if she proved to be a liar and extortionist, then she was the finest actress in all the world!

  That night only a sliver of a moon hung in the dusky sky as Julianna boarded the carriage for Mrs. Brunning’s party. The weather was pleasant enough, not too hot and not too cool. Perfect. The enchanting off-the-shoulder pink silk gown with its black trim and white lace made her feel like a princess. In fact, this entire day had made her feel like royalty. She’d ambled through the flower gardens, poked around in the Ramseys’ library—with their consent, of course—and then she’d taken a nap. Right in the middle of the afternoon! The maid awoke her after her gown arrived in its colorfully wrapped paper. The captain had purchased it for her, and it was unlike any other that Julianna had ever seen. This gown was elegance perfected. For her perfect birthday.

  The captain sat across the way from her, next to Mr. Ramsey. “You look lovely, Miss Wayland—as do you, Eliza,” he quickly added.

  Julianna blushed. He’d told her how lovely she looked twice already.

  “You’re so kind, Daniel.” Sitting beside her, Mrs. Ramsey smiled. “And, George, do try to at least pretend you’re enjoying yourself once we arrive at Mabel’s home.”

  “I shall do my best.” He grumbled the reply. “I have no use for bold and independent women.”

  “Or so he thinks,” Mrs. Ramsey whispered near Julianna’s ear.

  “I heard that, and it proves my point.” Mr. Ramsey’s tone increased. “Mabel Brunning is a terrible influence on the genteel women in New York.”

  Julianna decided she liked the woman already.

  Her gaze flitted across the carriage, where she met the captain’s blue eyes and amused-looking wink. Had he guessed her thoughts?

  “Oh, George, don’t start in again.” Mrs. Ramsey huffed softly.

  “Eliza, you know I can’t abide Mabel Brunning. Next time ask me before you accept an invitation for the both of us.”

  “Now, George, there’s no need for harsh replies and poor attitudes. Strong, outspoken women like Mrs. Brunning fill the corners of the world.”

  The captain’s broad shoulders moved quickly up and down. “Sometimes they say important things. You might try listening.”

  “Thank you, Daniel.” A satisfied sigh passed Mrs. Ramsey’s lips.

  Mr. Ramsey snorted and stared out the carriage’s window, his expression pinched and terse.

  The captain chuckled.

  Concealing her grin, Julianna realized that Captain Sundberg was the only one who could take Mr. Ramsey down a few pegs. The older man cowed everyone else.

  The carriage rolled to a stop in front of a tall, square, brick building with lamps already lit in most windows. Formally dressed men and women strolled up the walk to the door. It amazed Julianna to think that tonight she’d be among them—and not as a housemaid.

  Captain Sundberg helped the ladies alight and then escorted Julianna into the elegant foyer of the home. Framed artwork in gilded frames adorned the papered walls, and the golden floor tiles gleamed from a thorough waxing.

  “Why, Captain Sundberg, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” A rotund woman wearing folds of deep green silk extended her hand.

  He placed a perfunctory kiss on her gloved fingers. “Mrs. Brunning, the pleasure is all mine. You also have my congratulations on your many years of publishing articles.”

  “Thank you, dear man.” Musical strains from an ensemble played from somewhere in the house. Mrs. Brunning turned to George Ramsey. “How good of you to come, George.”

  Julianna resisted the urge to roll her eyes as he greeted their hostess just as the captain had, the phony.

  Next Mrs. Ramsey said hello and gave Mrs. Brunning quick kisses on both cheeks. “You look divine in that emerald dress, Mabel.”

  “Why, thank you. And who might this little darling be?” Mrs. Brunning’s intelligent brown eyes zeroed in on Julianna.

  The captain made the introductions. “Mrs. Mabel Brunning, may I present Miss Julianna Wayland. She’s from London and a guest of the Ramseys.” He then whispered something more.

  “Her birthday!” Mrs. Brunning’s face lit with surprise. “How noteworthy! Well, then, Miss Wayland, I’ll expect Captain Sundberg to show you an exceptionally delightful time at my home tonight.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Juliann
a glanced at the captain and thought the reply wasn’t quite what he’d expected.

  He took her elbow and glided her out of the queue of guests waiting to greet Mrs. Brunning.

  “Is something wrong?”

  The captain paused near the doorway of another expensively decorated room. “With my luck, Mrs. Brunning will extend her writing skills to the New York Times, and Reagan will read about my escorting you here. I hadn’t thought about it until minutes ago.”

  “Your countess?” Julianna hoped she’d read about it—and more. “May I have some punch, please?”

  Captain Sundberg arched a brow. “Anything else, m’lady?”

  His sarcasm made laughter bubble up inside of Julianna. “I’ll let you know the moment I think of something.”

  The evening progressed, and Julianna was introduced to scores of interesting people. She noted the respect Captain Sundberg garnered, and she learned of some of his voyages. In the past years he’d been to Asia, South America, and all of Europe, loading up cargo there, from tea and produce to iron ore and lumber, then transporting it back to New York.

  Julianna found herself in awe of this seafaring man. He certainly wasn’t like any other she’d met, but she’d known that already.

  Eliza approached them. “I’m famished. Let’s find a table and fix ourselves plates with some of those delectable hors d’oeuvres.”

  Julianna’s stomach rumbled with anticipation. She’d been too excited to eat any dinner tonight. She followed the Ramseys through the ornately decorated ballroom.

  “Allow me to fix your plate, m’lady.” Captain Sundberg spoke so near to Julianna’s ear that his warm breath caused delightful shivers to run down her neck.

  She smiled and nodded. Mr. Ramsey left to fix his wife’s plate also.

  “Isn’t this fun?” Mrs. Ramsey glanced around the room. “We’re participating in history tonight.”

  “I’d say so.”

  The ensemble played a stirring melody, and Julianna rocked slightly to the beat. Soon the captain and Mr. Ramsey returned with the food. It looked scrumptious. Julianna couldn’t wait to try everything on her plate.

  As the men seated themselves, Julianna glanced around the room again. During her years on London’s streets she’d only hoped to eat the scraps from a party like this, but here she was actually a guest.

  She wanted to pinch herself.

  “Well, now, Miss Wayland,” Mr. Ramsey began, “suppose you tell us more about yourself as we eat.”

  Julianna could barely hear him above the din of chatting and music.

  “George, let’s not put Miss Wayland on the spot.” The captain gave her what appeared like a forced smile.

  “Come now, Daniel. Allow Miss Wayland a chance to speak.”

  She slid a gaze to the captain, who gave her a subtle nod. Did he want her to be completely honest?

  “Not much to tell, really,” she murmured.

  “Everyone has a story,” Mrs. Ramsey remarked before she ate caviar on a small, crisp biscuit. “Are you acquainted with any of London’s clothing designers?”

  “No.” Julianna brightened. “But Mum was a seamstress.”

  Mr. Ramsey groaned, and the captain muttered something to him in that cynical tone of his.

  “But as I said, I never knew her.”

  “You poor dear. I was very close to my mother. She passed years ago, but I still miss her terribly.” Mrs. Ramsey’s expression oozed with empathy. “It had to be difficult, being raised by an older sister.”

  “Flora did her best. She was only a child herself. And Mrs. Potter had good intentions.” Disquiet began to plume inside of her. “I’d prefer not to speak about me childhood years anymore.”

  “But how shall we get to know you better?” Again that exaggerated condescension from Mr. Ramsey. Julianna couldn’t figure him out. Was she an imposition?

  “I told you about meself this morning, Mr. Ramsey.”

  “Yes, but surely you remember more about your, um, father.” He shook out the white linen napkin and set it across his lap. “Perhaps I can help you locate him.”

  The idea struck Julianna as ludicrous. “Why would I want to locate the man?”

  “I thought he was dead.” Puzzlement drizzled across Mrs. Ramsey’s features as she turned to Julianna for explanation.

  “He’s been dead to me all me life, the rotten scoundrel.” Glimpsing the look of shock on the other woman’s face, Julianna quickly adjusted her tone. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. I guess I got carried away with me sentiments—that is, my sentiments.” She looked at the captain and saw a muscle work in his jaw. Was she doing all right?

  “Fret not, my dear.” Mrs. Ramsey reached across the way and touched Julianna’s forearm. “I get carried away at times too.”

  “How do you know your father’s a . . . ” Mr. Ramsey paused. “A scoundrel?” Something like chagrin reddened his face.

  Julianna wished her knight would speak up and save her from this interrogation. What if she embarrassed him?

  She glanced about. It seemed no one was within earshot. Candlelight glowed all around them.

  “Please, Mr. Ramsey, I would prefer to change the subject, although”—Julianna ran a gloved finger along the starched edge of her napkin—“with all the talk this morning, I managed to recall something amusing. You see, Flora said she never knew me father’s real name. She and Mum called him by a nickname. Christopher Columbus.”

  As Julianna giggled over the name, Mr. Ramsey began to hack as though he’d gotten something caught in his throat. He held his napkin to his lips.

  “Goodness, George, what’s wrong with you?” Mrs. Ramsey leaned forward. “Have you caught yourself a cold?”

  “No, no . . . ” Cough. Cough.

  A few heads turned. The captain assured onlookers that the situation was under control.

  Julianna sobered, sensing the reason for Mr. Ramsey’s reaction. “I’m completely aware that it’s shameful how he never married Mum, but it’s not me fault. I didn’t ask to be born.”

  “Of course you didn’t, you poor thing.” Mrs. Ramsey patted her hand.

  Meanwhile, the captain clapped Mr. Ramsey between the shoulder blades.

  “A similar circumstance happened to a girlhood friend of mine,” Mrs. Ramsey whispered. “She fell in with a notorious rake, and he didn’t do right by her either.”

  “A very good description, Mrs. Ramsey. Such men are rakes.” Julianna gave a nod.

  Mr. Ramsey continued to clear his throat.

  Julianna sent the captain a curious look.

  He met her gaze. “Not to worry. I believe George’s coughing fits are brought on by his own doing.” Captain Sundberg cast a dark glance at the older man.

  “You’ve been smoking those awful cigars again, haven’t you, dear?” Mrs. Ramsey jerked her chin. “I told you they were bad for your health.”

  Captain Sundberg took a turn at clearing his throat. “If you, George, and Eliza will excuse me, I believe I shall dance with Miss Wayland. It is, after all, her birthday.”

  Julianna held up a hand in protest. “You think that’s a good idea?” What about keeping their distance?

  He stood and took her hand. As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I assure you, all proprieties will be observed.”

  “Yes, yes, go and dance,” Mrs. Ramsey encouraged. “Enjoy yourselves.”

  The captain helped Julianna to her feet, and Julianna’s heart picked up its pace. He bowed regally. “May I have this dance, Miss Wayland?”

  Oh! But how could she refuse? He looked so handsome in his dark suit. The blue of his eyes shimmered beneath the golden radiance of the chandeliers. “Yes . . . ”

  He led her away from the table. Other couples swayed to the melodious waltz. He made a smooth pivot and locked his arm around her waist then brought her up as close as proper etiquette allowed.

  “Just follow my lead.” Like a feather, his breath softly brushed against her temple.

  �
�Oh, I’ve waltzed before, but not with a man.”

  His amused chuckle reached her ears. “By yourself, then?”

  “No, Flora taught me the basics.”

  “Well, you’re doing fine.” He spoke the words for her ears only.

  How utterly natural it felt to glide across the floor in his arms. Julianna never wanted their dance to end.

  “This has been the best day of me life.”

  He smiled.

  They made a turn around the room, and Julianna’s confidence grew. When at last the melody ended, she felt rather proud of her accomplishment. At the same time she knew it was only because of the captain’s arm holding her so tightly that she’d achieved it.

  “Don’t move!” a man shouted.

  She and the captain froze. He groaned. Moments later a bright light exploded, and Julianna saw white spots in front of her eyes.

  Mabel Brunning rushed up to them and took Julianna’s hand. “My gift to you, my dear. A photograph so you can remember this birthday forever.”

  “Thank you.” Julianna had never been photographed before. She blinked, and the spots began to fade.

  Julianna smiled all the way to their corner table. As Captain Sundberg held the chair for her, she felt a dizzying happiness flood her being.

  “Why, my dear, you’re positively glowing.” The corners of Mrs. Ramsey’s mouth went up in a knowing sort of way.

  “It’s not every day a girl gets to dance with the prince of sea captains.” I feel like a princess at that.

  “You flatter me, Miss Wayland.” The captain’s short chuckle sounded more embarrassed than amused.

  Mrs. Ramsey’s pleased-looking smile grew.

  Mr. Ramsey, on the other hand, sat ramrod-straight and appeared none too pleased. But why? Whatever was the matter with him?

  Julianna found herself praying that the older man wouldn’t ruin the rest of this incredible night. But to her relief she found that the evening passed in a delightful blur of dancing and conversation and delicious food.

  It neared the midnight hour when the carriage stopped at the Ramseys’ front door. Mr. Ramsey let himself out and called instructions to his driver. The captain climbed out the opposite doorway and extended his hand first to Mrs. Ramsey and then Julianna.