Captain Carrington held out his arm toward Mara. “Mrs. Abrams, may I show you to your quarters?” Mara took his arm and followed him, listening to him talk about his ship, her features and measurements, capacity, and crew size. She batted her eyelashes, and hung on his every word. He was smitten.
“Your belongings arrived the day before yesterday, and we packed the four crates and the two wagons in the hold. The eight horses are in the animal holding area, with plenty of food. They won’t be happy, but they will be well taken care of during the journey. I’ve not lost a horse yet, and I don’t intend to start now.”
Mara murmured her gratitude, and let him drone on. “We took the liberty of putting the trunks in your rooms. We had to guess which was which, so if we didn’t choose correctly, just tell a crew member and we will switch them around for you. Anything you want, you just tell ol’ Captain Carrington, and it will be done.”
“You are so kind and gracious, sir. I know this will be the most pleasant of journeys because of your personal attention to detail, and your faultless hospitality. I am sure no ship on the open seas is as wonderful as the Fleetwood.”
Carrington’s chest puffed up. “No ma’am! She is the top of the line. You will travel to America in the most modern style on the seas today. Ah, here we are at your cabin, m’lady. I will leave you to settle in now, and we’ll resume our chat at dinner tonight.”
The captain bowed low and kissed Mara’s hand. With a click of his heels, he was off to attend to other business prior to their departure. He glanced at his fob watch. As charming as Mrs. Abrams was, he had a ship to undock in less than fifteen hours.
The cabin was a three-room suite, with a tiny water closet. The trunks sat in the middle of the small sitting room, waiting for their owners to claim them. The room consisted of a settee, a single end table with a lamp, a tiny writing desk, a reading chair, and a smaller straight-back chair. In the middle of the floor was a dark oriental rug. To the right was a small bedroom, with a double bed, dresser, and wardrobe. There was barely enough room to walk between the furniture. “I now know why the trunks are in the sitting room!” exclaimed Cecilia. “You can’t even breathe in this room.”
“Yours is worse,” said Jake, as he nodded toward the door on the opposite side. The room was barely more than a closet, with a set of narrow beds, one above the other, a small nightstand with two drawers, and hooks on the wall for clothes. “I guess we will stack the trunks along the wall in the sitting room when we’ve unpacked what we need.”
“Where are Pete and Luke staying?”
“You mean Pierson and George?”
Mara smiled. “I mean Pierson and George, my dearest James.”
“They have a room a level below us, with bunk beds and hooks on the wall, just like Cecilia’s—I mean, Ellen’s. They will be fine.”
“Well, Lady Elizabeth,” said Cecilia, “we might as well unpack!” Giggling, the women began to settle into the tight quarters, while Jake went to check on their crates, wagons, and horses.
Chapter 42
Captain Carrington was highly disappointed when Mr. Abrams showed up to dinner alone, stating that Mrs. Abrams had a headache. He understood, however, and allowed Mr. Abrams to eat a quick dinner and then carry back two plates of food for the ladies. Jake felt it was safest for Mara to remain in their room until they were on the high seas. At that point, Markham and Cleveland would be powerless to stop them. Since Jake was believed to be dead at the bottom of the Thames, he felt safe wandering around the ship. No one would be looking for him.
He kicked the door lightly with his boot, and waited for Cecilia, the other dead one, to open it.
“Brought food, ladies!”
“Thank God!” exclaimed Mara. “I am starving. We haven’t had a bite to eat since breakfast.”
Cecilia took the plates and set them on the writing table.
Jake pulled silverware, a corkscrew, and napkins from his pocket, and put down a bottle of wine he had been carrying under his arm. “It is the best I could do under the circumstances. We’ll have Cecilia—I mean, Ellen—return the dishes later. Are there glasses in here, or must we drink from the bottle?”
“We’ll drink from the bottle. Not a problem. Manners be damned tonight!” Jake handed Mara the uncorked bottle. She took a swig and then lifted it high into the air. “To us—the best kidnappers and thieves in the British Isles!”
“Maybe in the entire continent!” added Cecilia, as she took a drink.
Jake seized the bottle and also took a swig. “Me thinks the entire planet, m’ladies!” They all laughed and drank and ate and relived the entire day, step by step, still finding it hard to believe they had actually pulled it off.
*****
After dinner, Cecilia took the plates back to the kitchens, giving Jake and Mara a little time to themselves. They sat next to each other on the settee, relaxing and basking in the glow of their success. Mara loved being tucked beneath his arm and leaning against his side. It was such a relief to be completely in the open with their relationship, letting others besides Pete, Luke, Alvin, and Cecilia see them together.
Mara swung her legs up and over his lap so she partially lay across him and snuggled closer, hugging him tight.
“I never thought I’d see this day, Jake—the day I became Mrs. Jacob Abbot, and truly yours forever.”
“I’ve dreamed of this moment for seven years.” He closed his eyes, dropping his head back onto the settee. “I still remember the day we met. Your yellow dress, your wild hair, your big green eyes staring at me after I came through that hole in the wall. I thought for sure you were going to knock me senseless with that big book of yours.” They laughed at the memory. “I remember your giggle when I asked if you were the queen, but mostly I remember the feeling of finding a kindred soul. Someone as broken and lonely as I was.”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “But I am not broken and lonely anymore. You have healed my soul, and given me a family. You kept us together, saving Pete and Luke and Alvin and me from horrible futures, and probably early deaths. You kept us from starving. You are truly our Angel Mara.” He squeezed her in a tight hug. “I fell more in love with you with each passing day.”
“But I was so fat and ugly.”
“Weight is not what defines a person, Mara. And you were never ugly.” His hand traced her face.
“I didn’t fall in love with your outside, which I do like mighty well, by the way, but I fell in love with my kindred soul. I fell for the big heart that gave four hooligan boys a chance, a home, and direction in their lives. I fell for the giggle that wells up from deep inside you, bringing pure joy to the world. I fell for the incredibly bright mind behind all that curly, red hair. How could a bit o’ fat compete with all those amazing qualities? It mattered little to me.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Everyone else in her life had seen only the fat and never the girl inside. For her, Jake did the saving. It wasn’t until he came into her life that she had experienced real love. Cecilia and the other servants were devoted to her, but she never believed they dearly loved her like Jake and the other boys. They, too, had tsked-tsked behind closed doors at her weight, but the boys had never mentioned it after that first day. She was grateful to him, to them.
She stood up. “Stay here a minute,” she whispered. She went into the other room and closed the door. He raised an eyebrow, but stayed put. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. He was dead tired. This day had put a lot of stress on all of them. If they knew he was alive, Jake would be the most wanted lawbreaker in all of England, and that laid heavy on his mind. Not that he wouldn’t do it again in an instant, but to go from stable hand to criminal mastermind was a mind-boggling and exhausting experience.
He had almost dropped off to sleep when he heard the bedroom door open. He peeled one eye open. He awoke instantly when he saw Mara. She had changed into a creamy silk nightgown and matching robe. It hung on her curves invitingly, the décolletage dipping low
between her breasts, hinting at the rewards that were his to claim.
“Come,” she said huskily, as she took his hand, “let me show my husband how much this kindred soul appreciates him.”
Jake smiled and allowed himself to be led to the tiny bedroom by his beautiful bride.
*****
They awoke the next morning—arms, legs and bedclothes tangled—to the lurching of the boat as it left its moorings. They had fought in their sleep the age-old “who owns the covers?” battle, and it looked like Jake had claimed the sheet and Mara the coverlet. They smiled at the mess.
Jake and Mara lay in each other’s arms, holding their breath as the great ship left the dock and sailed toward the open seas. They dared not hope yet that they were scot-free after pulling off the biggest crime in London in recent memory. The evidence they carefully left behind would hopefully befuddle the constabulary, Markham, and Cleveland long enough to keep them from thinking of searching the shipyards.
After the shuddering stopped and the ship seemed to be sailing smoothly toward the Atlantic, Jake turned to Mara. “Good morning, Mrs. Abbot—I mean, Mrs. Abrams. I hope you had a good night’s sleep.”
“The best in years. I had no idea how lovely it was to sleep next to a tossing and turning cover-stealing brute.”
“You were the one stealing my covers, m’lady! I was only trying to receive back my due.”
She laughed and struggled to arise. “Let’s straighten up this mess and start all over again.”
He growled, and shook off the sheets. She growled back. They smoothed down the bedclothes, tucking the ends back in. Then he growled again and chased her, leaping over the top of the bed. She gave a little shriek and ran around the bed, trying to avoid him and the furniture. There was little room for escape in this minute room!
Jake caught her easily and pulled her down on the bed, pouncing and tickling.
“Stop it, Jake, stop it!” She was incredibly ticklish, and he had always loved tickling her into giggling fits when they were children. The only place he was ticklish was the bottoms of his feet, and she’d never been able to touch those before.
She struggled against him, and was finally able to grab an ankle, held on for all she was worth, and tickle his foot. Jake started laughing uncontrollably, none too gently kicking his leg, trying to push her off his foot.
“I have you now, you animal!”
What they didn’t realize was that their laughter could be heard through the thin walls, ceilings, and floors, giving other passengers around them a good laugh, too. Cecilia pulled her pillow over her head to block out the noise.
Jake grabbed Mara’s legs and pulled with all his might, finally dislodging her from his sensitive foot. In a flash, he was on top of her, kissing her greedily like a famished man who’d been left in the desert for too long. In no time at all, the laughter was replaced by the sounds of two people in love.
Chapter 43
The next six weeks stretched out before them. They took up an easy routine of walking the decks, talking with other passengers, and planning their next steps when they reached America. The Fleetwood would dock in New York, in the northern part of the new country. They asked hundreds of questions of the captain and crew in order to understand better this new world and the customs of the country they were about to adopt as their own.
Most of the passengers were not of the peerage; they were commoners, hoping for a new and better life. Mr. and Mrs. Abrams (as they were known aboard ship) were the unofficial lord and lady of the voyage, sought after by almost everyone on board at one time or another. Mara and Cecilia were among only a couple of dozen women, as most of the passengers were men looking for work and a home before sending for their wives, mothers, sisters, and children who had remained behind in England.
The women usually gathered in the mess or dining facility to mend clothes, knit, embroider, and chat about the things women chat about. Mara hated these sessions, but knew she had to play the part.
Jake, Luke, and Pete looked after the horses, and talked to the other men at length about the workings of the ship. It was important to make as many friends and acquaintances as possible on this voyage, as these people would help them find the right support in New York. They may have escaped England, but they still had to tread the unfamiliar ground of America and settle in anonymity.
Mara kept up her exercise routine as much as possible, running around the deck in the wee hours of the morning before most of the passengers were up. She also ran up and down the stairs to the captain’s cabin and around the wheel house. The crew became used to seeing the lovely lady in men’s breeches on her morning jog; it amused them to no end. Jake would sometimes join her, but he mostly stood on deck watching her make her laps, jawing with the crew. Running was for horses, not men!
*****
Mara awoke in the middle of the night and couldn’t return to sleep. Too many thoughts were running through her head. In only two weeks they would arrive in New York, and the list of things she had to do was long. She ran over details in her mind.
She looked at her sleeping husband’s back. He had taken the sheets again, leaving her with the comforter which was half on, half off the bed. Mara sighed. They were going to need a bigger bed and better bedclothes in their new home, or she’d end up on the floor with the coverlet most of the time!
After tossing and turning for a bit, she gave up trying to sleep. Maybe exercise would help relax her and work the worry out of her head. She silently dressed in her pants, shirt, and work shoes, and noiselessly let herself out of the cabin.
Out on the deck, Mara took a deep breath of fresh sea air. This is what I need, she thought. Fresh air. She began briskly walking her first lap to warm up her muscles before breaking into a jog. It was a bit tricky in the dark, but she’d done it so often during the day that she knew where every barrel and post and gun mount lay.
On her seventh lap she heard a noise off to one side, but assumed it was one of the crew beginning his day a tad early.
A man watched her in the darkness. Harry Paulus was also on his way to the new world. He was a banker by trade, a man who could afford a ticket over, but he lacked the wealth of the Abrams. He looked for more opportunity than he would ever have in England—the reason most men were on their way to America. He was also avoiding jail time, after having swindled a few thousand pound notes from his bank.
Paulus had met the Abrams clan, of course, and had had a few lively discourses with James and his two servants, George and Pierson, on horses, politics and philosophy. Being an educated man, he enjoyed the company of other educated men. He’d also eyed the gorgeous Mrs. Abrams lustfully. She was educated herself, intelligent, and flirty, with a quick wit and a ready smile. And here she was, alone on deck, running around in the dark like a fool for the taking. And taking was on Paulus’ mind.
He moved into position in the shadows of the wheel house, and waited for her to come by on her next lap.
Mara turned around the wheel house on her eighth lap, thinking two more would do it. She was tired again, and knew she’d be able to sleep now. Just then, two arms roughly grabbed her from behind, one around her waist lifting her off the ground, the other over her mouth.
Mara struggled against her assailant, and bit his hand hard. “Ouch, you bitch!”
She screamed, but it was immediately cut off by an arm going around her neck and into her windpipe.
*****
Jake turned over in his sleep and threw his arm out to embrace his wife, but found her side of the bed empty. He opened his eyes and patted the bed, looking for her. Then he glanced over at the floor where the coverlet was. No Mara. Water closet? He waited a few minutes for her to return. When she didn’t and he heard nothing, he stood up and put on his pants, walking out to the sitting room. Mara wasn’t there, either. He opened Cecilia’s door. She stirred.
“M’lady?”
“I’m looking for her. She’s not in here?”
Cecilia was fully aw
ake now. “No, sir, not here.”
“Stay here. I’m going to go look for her.”
Cecilia stood up and put a robe on over her nightgown. “I will wait up.”
Jake, in bare feet and dressed only in his breeches, pulled open the door and realized it was unlocked. Blimey, he thought, where’d she go? He started running down the hallway to the ladder that would take him up on deck.
*****
Was that a scream? thought Captain Carrington, as he slowly wakened from a sound sleep. He sat up in bed, trying to figure out what had wakened him. He heard some banging below his cabin, and a grunt. Definitely a scream, he concluded, and arose to see what trouble his crew was into now.
*****
Paulus turned Mara around, pressed her hard against the wall of the wheel house, and covered her mouth with his in a fierce kiss. “Shhhh,” he shushed, “Don’t fight me. I just want to steal a few sweet kisses, m’love.” He moved his hand upward from her waist to her shoulder, his body imprisoning hers against the wood. She squirmed and squealed under his lips, and pushed against his chest with all her might, but couldn’t budge him.
He forced her lips apart savagely as he thrust his tongue between them. Her lips were bruised as he kissed her hungrily without restraint, his hands bruising her tender skin.
Mara was truly petrified now, as she felt utterly helpless against her attacker. She tried screaming again, only to have him once more cut off her windpipe with his forearm. She began struggling with all her might, painfully scratching her back against the rough wood of the wheel house through the thin material of her shirt.
Mara: A Georgian Romance Page 23
