Scoundrel (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 4)

by Cheryl Holt

While initially she’d been certain she could persuade him to consider a permanent connection, she’d had scant opportunity to discuss any meaningful topic. It seemed the further they sailed from Africa, the more they lost the intimacy they’d shared that day on the beach.

  She had no idea how to get it back, and she suspected—if she went to him in his cabin—it would garner her what she craved, that being a proposal of marriage.

  If they engaged in the sorts of carnal behavior he relished, he’d have to wed her afterward. The law required it. The Church insisted on it. Societal rules demanded it. But she didn’t want to have to trick him into offering.

  She wanted a proposal tendered because he was wild for her, because he couldn’t bear to part once they were in London.

  He ran the toe of his boot up her calf, and shivers cascaded down her spine. She was a teeming, uncomfortable mass of unrequited physical need. How did he stand it? He was always so calm and in control. How could he go for weeks without a repeat of the antics they’d participated in at the villa?

  She peeked at him, eager for him to realize he was being scolded, but he ignored her and spoke to Ralston.

  “We should be home tomorrow.”

  “Yes, drat it,” Ralston replied. “I’m rather enjoying our adventure on this ship. I wish we never had to leave.” He grinned at the girls. “How about you three? Don’t you wish we could stay on this ship forever?”

  They looked perplexed—who would choose to remain on the ship forever?—but they loved him and ultimately agreed they’d stay so long as he stayed too.

  Chase asked, “Should we send the ladies on to Scotland by land or by sea?”

  Ralston glanced over at Faith and said, “What’s your opinion, Faith?”

  The question startled her. It slashed a knife through the middle of her sojourn where she’d been able to loaf at Chase’s side and pretend there was no future winging toward them like a runaway carriage.

  She was taken aback too. His casual posing of the query made it sound as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of them, as if he didn’t care about them.

  Everyone was staring at her, and she forced out an answer. “It’s summer, so the roads will be good if we go by coach. But I’m happy with whatever is cheapest. We’ve been such a burden already.”

  She kept her smile firmly in place, praying none of her misery was apparent, and Ralston very kindly maintained, “You haven’t been a burden. We were glad to assist you.” Chase didn’t hasten to concur, and Ralston said, “Weren’t we glad, Chase?”

  “Yes, it’s been no burden,” he vaguely mumbled, as if he wasn’t paying attention.

  Mary asked Chase, “If we travel on to Scotland, will you visit us?”

  There was an awkward pause, with Chase not responding and the adults frowning at each other. Then Ralston jumped in, claiming, “We’ll visit all the time. Chase and I will be popping in so often you’ll grow sick of us.”

  “We couldn’t ever get sick of you,” Martha loyally declared.

  Millie peered up at Chase with her poignant blue eyes, but she still wasn’t speaking aloud. Her expression told its own story though. The children were so close to Chase and Ralston. When they were separated, it would be another loss for the girls to endure.

  What about me? Faith bleakly thought.

  How would she ever return to the convent and resume her old life? Chase didn’t show any indication that he’d miss anybody, most especially Faith, and the possibility wounded her. How could she feel so urgently attached and he feel nothing at all?

  Supper wrapped up. Rowena and Faith escorted the girls to their small cabin and helped put them to bed. After they quieted, Rowena shooed Faith out.

  It had become Faith’s nocturnal custom to walk on the deck, to gaze out at the stars and impatiently hope Chase would join her. He usually did. He couldn’t abide the stuffy air down below anymore than she could.

  To her immense delight, he was in his spot at the rail watching the ship cut through the waves. There was very little moon so all the deserted corners were very dark. There were likely many alcoves where, for once, they could steal a furtive kiss or two, but would he be interested?

  Even though it was the month of June, the temperature was chilly, the wind slicing into her, providing stark evidence that they were no longer in the Mediterranean. She wished she had a wool shawl to drape over her shoulders, but she was attired only in her nun’s habit. In a bow to comfort, she’d dispensed with wearing her wimple so her hair was visible and hanging down her back.

  During their brief stopover in Portugal, Chase had offered to buy her clothes and she’d stupidly refused to let him. But as a particularly bracing gust swirled by, she kicked herself for being a fool.

  “It’s cold tonight,” he said as she approached.

  “Yes, I noticed.”

  He extended his hand, and she hurried over and clasped hold. She couldn’t guess what had caused the brazen overture. He snuggled her to his side, an arm around her waist, and for a lengthy interval, they were lost in contemplation. She couldn’t imagine what thoughts were plaguing him.

  “We might arrive tomorrow,” he said.

  “I know. I can’t decide how I feel about it.”

  “Why is that? Won’t you be ecstatic to set foot in Britain again?”

  Dare she say it? Dare she speak up and state what was on her mind?

  If not now, when?

  “What will happen once we’re there?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Will I ever see you again?”

  He pondered forever, then bluntly admitted, “I don’t expect you will.”

  “So this is goodbye?”

  “Probably.”

  Her heart sank. No doubt he was correct that they should part, that there should be no promises between them. She’d observed him at his worst, at his most decadent and corrupt, and he’d likely be an awful husband. Yet she’d observed him at his best too, and it was those stellar traits that were driving her.

  She didn’t want to be a nun. She wanted a different life, a different future. How could she persuade him that he wanted it too?

  “Can you really let me go?” she asked.

  “I’m sure I should.”

  “Are you telling me, Chase Hubbard, that we’ll tie up to a dock in London and you’ll march down the gangplank and disappear into the crowd?”

  “Not immediately.” His tone was sarcastic. “I have to purchase fares for you and the girls for the remainder of your trip.”

  In light of how fond she’d grown, it was a cruel and galling comment. She might have burst into tears, but she wouldn’t exhibit any emotion. If he could be completely nonchalant, so could she.

  “Well then”—her voice was steady, her misery tucked away—“I’ll just say goodnight. I apologize for bothering you.”

  She spun away, wondering where she could hide as she nursed her anguished condition, but before she took two steps he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. He guided them into the shadows, then he was kissing her and kissing her. It was the first time since their decadent afternoon on the beach.

  At his finally making a move, she was extremely relieved, like a drowning person who’d been thrown a rope.

  There was a desperation in his actions that convinced her he must like her more than he let on. What man could kiss a woman like this if he wasn’t serious about her? What man could be so passionately involved but not crave a more permanent attachment?

  They continued for an eternity, until a sailor’s strides echoed nearby. They paused, staring, smiling.

  “We’re a long way from Africa, aren’t we?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I miss it. I never thought I would, but I do.”

  “I miss it too.”

  She didn’t miss Africa precisely, but during the brief period they’d dallied, she’d changed into someone new. The experience had been indescribable and unforgettable.

  “I’ve been
awful to you,” he whispered. “The entire voyage, I’ve been awful.”

  “Yes, you have, you beast.” She was whispering too.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so confused about you.”

  “Keep me by your side. Don’t send me away.”

  He blew out a heavy breath. “It’s not that easy, Faith.”

  “Yes, it is, Chase.” She gazed up at him, wishing they were under a lantern so she could see his eyes. “Let’s have the ship’s captain marry us tomorrow. Once we dock we’ll go to my father. I’ll tell him what’s occurred and that I’ve left the convent. I truly believe he’ll be so glad that he’ll assist us financially.”

  “You don’t know that he would.”

  “No, but I can’t imagine he’d refuse. He’s always wanted me to come home.”

  “He wanted it so you would wed your cousin.”

  “I’ll simply inform him that I’ll behave as he’s requested, but I’ve chosen a different husband.”

  “You’re giving him an enormous amount of credit that’s probably not deserved. Your cousin Lambert’s nose would certainly be put out of joint.”

  “He doesn’t concern me. You do however. You and I should be together.”

  “And living…where? In your father’s house? Relying on him for every farthing we spend? I can’t envision it, and I couldn’t agree to it.”

  “Are you too proud to accept help from him?”

  “Of course I am! I’ve never even met the man, and I’d never earn his good opinion if I walked in his front door, hoping he’d slip me a few pounds.”

  He pulled her close again, and she sensed that he was terribly conflicted. She yearned to be more eloquent so she could succinctly argue her point. Why couldn’t she make him grasp how splendid it would be?

  “I’d be a horrid husband,” he told her.

  “No, you wouldn’t. I think you’d be exactly what I need, and I think I would be exactly what you need.”

  “What is it that you suppose I need?”

  “Someone who loves you. Someone who cares about you. You’re so alone, Chase. Let me bind my life to yours. I will always be your staunchest friend.”

  “What if your father declined to aid us? Then where would we be?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we could throw ourselves on your sister’s mercy.”

  “My sister? Have you any idea of how crazed you sound? We can’t start out in poverty. We don’t have two pennies to our name.”

  “Why wouldn’t she help us? Are you estranged? Have you pushed her away as you’ve pushed everyone else?”

  “My sister and I get on just fine, but she wed a cad who’s even more despicable than I am. I’m not even certain where she’s living. Perhaps with her father-in-law and I’d slit my wrists before I’d ask that rude dunce for anything.”

  “Oh…”

  She sagged against him, feeling dreadfully discouraged. With each suggestion she offered, he countered it with another. He was so set in his negative views. How could he be such a pessimist and she such an optimist?

  “We have to devise a solution, Chase, or we’ll dock in London and I’ll climb into a carriage and ride away. After I’m locked in the convent, I’ll never see you again. Tell me the truth. Flat out. Is that what you want?”

  “No.”

  “We have to map our way out of this tangle. You can’t simply contradict me.”

  “I am being a spoilsport, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, and you have to be a little more positive, if you please. If you keep claiming there’s no option for us, then I’m quite sure there never will be.”

  He drew her to him and hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe.

  “You’re so good for me,” he said.

  “I intend to be even better in the future. Don’t fret so much. It will work out.”

  “You believe it can?”

  “Yes, and if you would begin to believe it too, I know we’ll succeed.”

  He stared up at the stars as if asking the heavens for guidance. Then he sighed, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “All right,” he said. “You’ve persuaded me. I’ll think of something.”

  She was so relieved; she was surprised her knees didn’t buckle. She rested her palm over his heart and rubbed in slow circles. “It will be fine, Chase.”

  “I suppose it will.”

  Rowena took that moment to bluster onto the deck. “Faith, are you here? Where are you?”

  He chuckled and eased her away. “Your moral compass beckons.”

  “If she’s my moral compass, she’s botched it over and over.”

  “Go—before she comes searching for you.”

  Faith stepped out of the shadows, and she studied him, her affection overwhelming. There were a thousand comments on the tip of her tongue, but she’d missed her chance to voice any of them.

  “You mean it, don’t you?” she whispered. “You’ll think of something?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll marry tomorrow? We’ll have the ship’s captain perform the ceremony?”

  He appeared to nod, but didn’t reply. He motioned for her to hurry away, but now that they’d settled matters she couldn’t bear to be separated from him. She was anxious to tell Rowena what they’d decided, but she couldn’t blurt it out.

  There were plans to make and schedules to arrange. She’d announce the situation later, when the details were finalized and she need only walk into her new life.

  “Faith!” Rowena called again, and Faith spun away.

  “I’m here, Rowena. Over by the rail.”

  She flitted away from him but couldn’t resist glancing back. He’d slipped off in the other direction.

  “Where have you been?” Rowena asked as she approached. “When I couldn’t find you I was worried.”

  “I was looking at the stars,” Faith lied, “to see them one last time before we arrive. They’ll never be this brilliant again.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Rowena muttered. “Are you excited to get to the convent?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”

  “It’s been quite an adventure.”

  “Yes, it has,” Rowena agreed.

  “It will be hard to adjust to the quiet and solitude.”

  “Have you thought about not going back?”

  Faith stayed very still, not willing to betray herself by the slightest change in her expression. “No, I’ve never considered it.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “If we daydream and fantasize, it will be more difficult to return.”

  “Who’s daydreaming?” Rowena said. “I intend for it to happen.”

  “You’re not…thinking of leaving,” Faith carefully responded, not sure of what her opinion should be. If she was contemplating the very same, was she in any position to judge or offer advice? Rowena was young and reckless, prone to bad choices and bad behavior. Shouldn’t Faith counsel caution?

  But Rowena merely laughed and shrugged off Faith’s remark. “I ponder it constantly. You know that.”

  “Yes, but we’re intricately bound to the Sisters of Mercy, Rowena. We paid money and we spoke vows of loyalty and devotion.”

  “You may have, but I had my fingers crossed. I never vowed a single word.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “If I run away, I’m not breaking any oaths. Besides, my parents paid the money. Not me. I don’t mind if they lose every farthing they shelled out to lock me away.”

  “If Ralston asked you to remain with him,” Faith inquired, “would you?”

  “Absolutely. How about you? You seem awfully cordial with Mr. Hubbard. If he asked, what would you say?”

  “I’d say I’m returning to the convent, but I wouldn’t ever have to make the decision because he’d never suggest it.”

  “Wouldn’t he?” Rowena chided.

  “No.”

  Rowena studied her, then chuckled
. “No, I don’t suppose he would. He’s the type to flirt and woo, but he’d never keep a promise.”

  “He’s not like that. He puts on a good front and likes others to view him as a cad and blackguard, but he’s not.”

  “You’re wrong, Faith, and you should trust me on this. I’ve had much more experience with men than you. He’s a confirmed bachelor. If he ever wed, it would be to glom onto a fortune. You don’t have one.”

  “He’s more honorable than you deem him to be,” Faith insisted.

  “No, he’s not, Faith. Ralston has told me all about him. He’ll always be a bachelor—unless he stumbles on an heiress. You better watch out.”

  “Why would you scold me about him?”

  “Because you like him more than you should. I’m your friend, and I’m warning you.”

  “Warning received.”

  “He’d have to be hog-tied and dragged to the altar. He’d never go willingly. Even for an heiress, he’d have to be dragged. Even then, I’d lay odds he’d vanish right before the ceremony. He’s that sort of wretch.”

  “No, he’s not, and after all he’s done for us, I’m not about to stand and listen to you denigrate him.”

  “I’m not denigrating him. I’m simply telling you the facts.”

  “Again, Rowena, facts received. Thank you, but I’m calling it a night.”

  She stomped off, went to the hatch, and climbed the ladder into the hold. Though she tried to ignore Rowena’s comments, though she tried to pretend she hadn’t heard them, she entered her cabin with a terrible sense of foreboding.

  Chase had promised. He’d said they’d marry in the morning. She believed in him much more than he believed in himself. She wouldn’t let Rowena frighten her, wouldn’t let Rowena weaken her resolve.

  Chase would follow through. She had no doubt.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Chase lay on the bunk in his cabin. A candle sputtering in the wall sconce had just flickered out. The area was so small he could reach over and touch both walls at the same time. There was room on the floor to stash his portmanteau, but that was it.

  He grew claustrophobic in the constricted space, which explained why he was often on the deck. But beggars couldn’t be choosers and he’d slept in worse places.

  The voyage was almost over and he was having trouble relaxing. He considered climbing onto the deck again, but if he did, he’d likely run into Faith so he didn’t dare.