“I take it she was offended,” Jennifer said.
“You could say that,” replied Isabella.
“I think he only meant to give each woman the company of the other. However, his mother thought he wanted to be rid of her.”
“So she protested?” Jennifer gazed over the rim of her china cup.
Isabella held her skirt and sat on the upholstered sofa beside her. She added more sugar to her tea. “Revolted was more the case. Fought him at every turn.”
“She tried taking over the running of the estate, Mother continued. “Rescinded his orders, issued new ones in his name. When he found her in the act—to put it mildly—there was an uproar.”
China clanked as Isabella replaced her cup into its saucer. “Mother and I were invited to their home after that. I had been excited to go. But I never wanted to go after that day.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Their home no longer maintained warmth. Instead, the house held an air of indifference. Emotionless. The servants performed their duties in stony silence, their eyes never meeting their hostess. Then, Alicia, she had a friend on their staff at the time,” Isabella stated. “The girl came here in the hopes Alicia would put in a word with Mother for employment. She spoke of the household and said, even the normal chatter among the servants had stopped. Then, she burst into tears.”
“I don’t approve of gossip among the servants.” Mother scolded.
“But you did hire Alicia’s friend,” Isabella asserted.
Mother gave a sniff. She stood and smoothed her skirts. “I believe I’ll have a nap. It is the middle of the day. You girls may have just gotten out of bed, but I rose early this morning.”
Once mother disappeared around the door, Isabella scooted across the sofa closer to Jennifer. “I thought she’d never leave.”
“You have a bee under your bonnet this morning . . . uh afternoon.” Jennifer closed her eyes and leaned back into the comfort of the high back chair. “And I’m not very happy with you right now.”
“What have I done?”
“You convinced me to go to Marsdale’s ball. Instead of the news I sought, I ended up with an outing Father agreed to with Lord Hambrook. Imagine my embarrassment when the earl asked Father for his permission. I barely managed to get him to agree to tomorrow instead of today. Being a gentleman, he understood the need for beauty rest after dancing all night at a ball.”
“Well, this should make you feel better.”
Jennifer opened one eye. “You seem entirely too excited.”
“I have news of your captain.”
She’d given up denying Stephen was her captain. Both eyes opened as she dropped her throbbing feet to the floor.
“What news?”
“He’s back.”
“How did you learn that? I heard nothing. And I sacrificed my limbs.”
“You were too busy fighting off droves of dandies to be privy to gossip.”
“Don’t remind me. I’m completely done in. What did you hear?”
“Well, Lucia hid outside her father’s study and listened at his door. She said Lord Thornton’s nephew rescued his niece and she was not compromised.”
“Compromised? Oh, dear. I never thought of her being alone with the man. I mean, she was kidnapped. Did they think she’d be . . . oh, dear.”
“When did you become such a muddle head? Stop with the ‘oh dears’.”
“You wouldn’t want to hear some of the expletives I used in India,” Jennifer said with a raised brow. “I’m trying to relearn my young lady etiquette training.”
“Really? What sort of expletives?”
“Never mind,” Jennifer shook her head. “I’d forgotten how easily a young girl can be ruined.” She gave a slight wave with her hand.
“She’s older than me,” Isabella said.
“How old?”
“Three and twenty, I think.”
“That’s my age. You made her sound like an old woman.”
“Too old for the marriage mart. She had her coming out years ago.”
“Fiddle. What else did Lucia hear?”
Isabella leaned closer. “Well, Lord Thornton packed them up and moved to his country estate.”
“Where’s that?”
“A place called Chelmouth.”
“Where’s that?”
“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” Isabella let out a deep breath.
“Oh, hush. Where?”
She waved her hands in the air. “How can I tell you if I hush?”
Jennifer glared at her sister. “Is-a-bell-a.”
“How would I know?” Isabella jumped from her seat on the sofa.
Jennifer’s gaze followed her movements. “Because you’re too curious. I know you found out.”
Isabella chewed on the end of her finger. “Well, Bobby said . . .”
“Who? Never mind.” She waved her hand dismissing her question. His identity was not important.
“Bobby said it is far south. Above Brighton. That’s where the captain has his ships.”
“Ships?” Stephen’s ship sunk. Had he mentioned more? Did he own a shipyard?
“Evidently your captain has several ships. He sailed away on Serpents Ghost two years ago. He returned, the ship did not.”
Of course not. The Rajput prince sunk Stephen’s ship.
Gossip did thrive among the ton.
Jennifer bit her knuckle. A pang of sorrow landed in the pit of her stomach, reminding her of the Chief’s slaughter.
“You know something, don’t you?” Isabella’s voice penetrated her contemplation.
She swallowed and set her teacup down. “Stephen sailed to India. His ship was sunk. He was . . . injured. That’s how I met him.”
Remembering the sight of his mutilated body caused her to stumble over the description. Sensing her sorrow, Isabella did not ask any more. Instead, she returned to her spot on the couch. She drew close and hugged Jennifer tight.
“I love you, Sister. Maybe in time . . .”
“Thank you.” Jennifer hugged her back. “You’ve helped more than you know.”
Stephen nodded with a smirk that was becoming all too familiar to Jennifer. He leaned closer. Heart pounding, she raised her mouth for his kiss.
“Jennifer!”
Her bedchamber door flew open and her whirlwind of a mother rushed in waking her from her dream. Arrrr. Her wonderful, exciting, sensual dream. She pulled the covers over her head and wished Mother to the devil.
“You need to get out of that bed. Lord Hambrook is calling on you this afternoon.”
“Go away,” Jennifer mumbled.
“What’s that?” She went on, not waiting for an answer. “Alicia is bringing you a tray.” She marched around the room issuing more instructions, then her voice trailed off. Jennifer flung the covers down taking a huge gulp of air. Marie entered immediately upon the heels of Mother’s exit. She scurried over to an open doorway and went inside to the bathing chamber. Anticipation of a hot, soothing bath had Jennifer pushing all other thoughts away. Alicia entered with a tray.
Marie stepped back into the bedchamber. “The towels are warm, My Lady.”
“Thank you, Marie. And please call me Jennifer. Have I been gone so long you’ve forgotten me?”
Marie’s eyes lifted to meet her gaze. “You . . . you’ve married, and you’re a lady . . . I wasn’t sure.”
Jennifer felt sorry for the girl. Once they’d been friends. She never told anyone of her plans to run away. She’d not been in her parent’s home for years, and who knew what the staff had been told.
“I’m the same person.” As soon as she said the words, she knew it for the lie it was. She definitely was
not the same person.
Marie curtsied. “Yes, mum. May I help you with your bath?”
“No, thank you. I’d like to bathe alone.” She’d been on her own for so long, she would need to make an effort in being pampered.
The maid spun around. “Do you have a gown in mind for today?” She moved to the large paneled doors in the wall, opening them wide.” All four doors held beautiful gowns—a few remained from before, but most from her recent shopping spree with her sister. The money they spent would have fed her for years in India.
She shook off the melancholy suddenly threatening to envelope her.
“Will you be needin’ anything else?”
“No. Thank you, Marie. I will be fine.” She watched the maid scurry through the door.
She stepped into the adjoining room and sighed at the sight of the claw-footed bathing tub. Dipping her fingers, she found the water to have just the right temperature. She moaned in anticipation of emerging her body for a long, leisurely soak.
She pulled the silky material over her head and eased her tired muscles into the welcoming warmth. She relaxed against the back of the tub, giving a sigh of pure delight. For long moments she lay there. Not thinking or caring about anything but the soothing water. She lifted the cloth drizzling oil scented water across her breasts. Ohhhh . . . that felt good. How wonderful—how different—being able to have a proper bath. The one true thing she missed during her life in India.
With her head on the rim of the tub, she allowed her mind to drift away into dangerous territory.
Stephen.
Where was he, what was he doing? Her fascination with the man had deepened in the short span of time that they’d been together. Blast him. He had her chasing rainbows. She’d gone to balls she didn’t want to attend, only on the chance of seeing his sorry hide. In hopes to gather information. Any word, any hint of his name.
As the water soothed her muscles, her thoughts grew more heated. Her bare bottom sitting on his lap, his fingers in her hair, his fingers delving lower. Her breathing quickened and she shifted causing the water to ripple. Good Lord, she needed to keep such notions from surfacing. Of course, with Stephen as the subject, carnal images were a given.
She soaped the cloth and scrubbed her arms vigorously. The quicker she got out of this tub the better.
Chapter 28
Stephen passed a group of scapegallows huddled together as he strode toward the Cock and Crown. In the deepening twilight, the dock’s taverns came alive with the evenings’ activities—not all entertainment. The happenings around these parts varied from drinking, rousing, whoring . . . and if a man weren’t careful, he’d find his throat slit for the coin he carried.
Stephen’s size had always intimidated. Thieves and scallywags thought better of their actions before accosting a man of his bulk. Given time, and another ship, he’d be back to his former mammoth size.
A woman’s wails echoed from a dark alley. At first, he thought a lightskirt in the throes of pleasing a randy seafarer. As he drew closer, a man shouted and a distinct sound of a hard slap rang in his ears. He froze.
What the hell?
“No! Please!”
“I know you want it, girlie. Now stop fightin’.”
“Stop! Please!” The woman’s cries were panic-stricken.
Stephen rushed toward the sounds of a struggle. What he saw made his blood boil. He grabbed the assailant by the scruff of his neck and hoisted. He slammed the bloody bastard into a wall.
“Oofff.”
“You’re a sorry excuse for a man.” Rage held him in her grasp. Fury seized his limbs. Blood thumped his temples. Lightskirt or no, beating a woman was beyond his tolerance.
“She was askin’ fer it.”
He hammered a punch to the cur’s middle. “No woman deserves a beatin’,” he said in a deadly tone. “I’ll not stand by and allow you or anyone to pound on a helpless individual.”
“She . . . she came out here with me.”
“You think that gives you the right to force this woman? Any woman?”
When the man opened his mouth, Stephen tightened his hands around the miscreant’s throat.
“Madam? Are you all right?”
The woman scrubbed at her cheeks and stopped her sniffling long enough to answer. “Y-yes. I think so.”
“Leave us. Go on your way.”
“I . . . I didn’t . . .”
“I said go!”
Without a glance in her direction, Stephen heard shuffling sounds and the woman scurried away.
“Now. You want to try your fists on me?”
The cur may have tried to shake his head no, but with the tight grip Stephen had on his person, the idiot was unable to move.
“No,” he croaked. His hands gripped Stephen’s wrists, his legs dangled above the ground. “Please.”
“Please, is it? You think I should listen to your behest? Did you take notice of the pleas from that woman you knocked to the ground?”
Good thing the idiot held his tongue. Stephen loved pounding his fist on a well-deserving bastard. To think he may have saved the poor woman from rape only incensed him further. The woman deserved justice, and this happenstance was just the diversion he needed to release his pent up frustration. He smashed his fist in the blackguard’s jaw.
“I think I should make sure you don’t get this sort of idea again. Relieve you of any physical impulse of attacking another woman.” He kept a grip on the cad’s throat while his other hand pulled a knife from his back. He pressed the blade against the man’s lower region. A teasing glint flickered off silver steel.
The bloke’s eyes nearly bulged out his head.
“You get my meanin’,” Stephen growled with deadly force.
“Ye . . . yes,” the sound from the rat’s throat barely audible.
He dropped the vermin to the ground, his legs crumpled underneath him.
For a moment, Stephen considered cutting the ballocks off the gutless scum. Sheathing his knife, Stephen stepped back, rolled his shoulders and spat. “Get out of my sight. I better never lay eyes on you again.”
Clenching his fists in disgust, he turned and strode from the alley. His hands still tense when he grabbed the handle of the tavern door. The Cock and Crown flourished with commotion. His eyes narrowed while he took in his surroundings. The man behind the bar glanced in his direction. Recognizing Stephen, Gabe gave a nod. A patch over one eye, he looked more the pirate than a barkeep. A dishonorable scoundrel had tried to take his life. Stephen interjected, saving Gabe, and luckily he only ended up losing an eye.
Sounds and accustomed smells brought back memories of another time. A better time when he’d been a willing participant of bawdy houses and drinking with his companions. Stephen scanned the smoke filled room and found an empty table in the far corner. Perfect. Before he reached his destination, a sailor rose, blocking his path.
“Aye, mate. You’re a big un.” He held up an empty mug. “Need another.”
The sailor wandered off and Stephen made his way to the corner. He’d survived a cruel period in his life. Damn, it felt good to stretch his limits in familiar surroundings.
Scanning the room, he studied each individual. All sorts of undesirables visited the water front. Which was precisely the reason he stopped at the Cock and Crown.
“What’ll it be, luv?” A buxom blonde stood before him with a hand on her hip and a suggestive smile on her lewd lips. Once, he’d have no hesitation taking her up on her blatant charms. One thing he loved was women. All shapes and all sizes. Before he could fill his arms with her supple body, an image of ebony hair and lavender eyes filled his vision.
“A pint will be enough for now.” He gave her a smile without his usual encouragement. Even if the only woman he wanted was out of reach,
he came here on business.
“Well, now. Good it is to see you’ve escaped the devil.” Gabe gave him a hardy slap on the back.
“The devil took his due,” Stephen grunted.
Gabe plopped in the chair beside him. “About your ship. Tis it true?”
“It’s true.” Stephen shoved down the anguish that threatened.
“Damn. What happened to ye?” Distress showed in the tightening of Gabe’s body.
“I lived. Now, I’m here to gather men.” Stephen made his face an unreadable mask.
“Don’t know if I like the sound of that?”
Few men earned the privilege to speak freely when their words challenged his actions. He lifted his gaze and his jaw tightened.
“No offense,” Gabe exclaimed “The way you say it, doesn’t sound like you’re looking for a crew to fit a new ship like Serpent’s Ghost or one of your others.”
The bar maid set a mug on the table. “There ya are, luv. Can I be gettin’ anything else fer ya?” Stephen’s gaze followed the movement of her tongue sliding evocatively across her top lip. Her intention clear.
“This will do for now.” He stuck a coin in the front of her low cut top, right between her breasts. Her eyes lit up with pleasure and she sashayed off to the next table.
The True One (One and Only Series Book 2) Page 22
