Francie & the Bachelor: A Caversham-Haberdasher Crossover

by Sue London

  “You’d best,” she whispered back, but the threat was undercut by the quiver in her voice.

  He took her arm. “Let me show you to your cabin.”

  They dodged men and lines as they made their way to the below decks. It was as natural as breathing to him now, but she stumbled from time to time, calling out “Pardon!” whenever she ran afoul. Even the grumpiest seaman had to smile when he saw who had tripped over him. Some of them would undoubtedly be muttering darkly about the ill luck of having a woman aboard once they shoved off, but in port she was a welcome distraction.

  He went down the companionway first so he could catch her if she fell on the steep, narrow stairs. She proved unfortunately dexterous. He’d been looking forward to catching her about the waist when she slipped. He’d not held her in days.

  “This is amazing,” she said, walking down the cramped hall touching the lanterns.

  There was no one about so he took her hand and tugged on it. “Come along.”

  “What kind of ship is this?” she asked.

  “It’s a sloop.” He smiled at her and teased,“Didn’t you know?”

  “My expertise does not run to naval history.”

  “Or naval engineering, clearly.”

  He stopped at a door and produced a key, holding it up in front of her. “Keep this door locked. It’s a small ship, but untoward things could still happen.” When she nodded somberly he unlocked the door and let her proceed him.

  “This is tiny!”

  He laughed, leaning on the portal with his arm’s crossed. “This, my dear, is an officer’s quarters. You’d best not be too picky.”

  “You can’t possibly fit in that bed,” she said, pointing at the mattress elevated above a cabinet.

  He reached past her to set her valise on the bed. He’d barely needed to lean forward, that was how close the room was. He smelled her soap and it made his knees weak. “Fortunately I don’t need to.”

  “Where will you be?”

  He shrugged. “In one of the hammocks below. You should stow your belongings in a cabinet. We probably won’t have a strong sea just going down the coast to London, but you never know when a storm might blow up. My satchel is in that one.” He pointed to the lower left cabinet. “But the rest are yours to do what you wish.”

  “I would invite you in, but.” She turned in the cramped space, looking for another place to put herself out of the way.

  He chuckled. “It’s all right, I have work to do. We will be dining with the captain this evening, if that suits?”

  She clapped her hands together. “Oh, it sounds wonderful!”

  All this time he’d not known that he’d only needed to use the whole of the Navy to lure her. He nodded and tapped the door. “Don’t forget to keep this locked.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” she said with a jaunty salute.

  “Lieutenant,” he corrected.

  “Aye aye, Lieutenant.”

  He chuckled and went back to his work.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After locking the door Francie crawled onto the small bed. Not because she was tired, but merely to see how the space actually felt. The bed was hardly longer than her, and the cabinet above her kept her from extending her arm all the way up, but it was overall quite cozy. For her. She imagined Reggie had to curl up like a lapdog to fit. And it would be a miracle beyond ken that he’d not struck his head at least a hundred times on the cabinet above. Were most Navy men tiny, like the one she’d seen climbing up to his crow’s nest? It warranted some observation.

  She stowed her valise and peeked in on Reggie’s belongings. His satchel was buried under the coat he’d been wearing in Cleadon. She picked up the coat and buried her nose in it. She could still smell smoke and sweat, but under those acrid scents were the citrus cologne she’d come to know, and something else that was simply Reggie. She’d not noticed before that he had a particular scent beyond the cologne, but right now it was unmistakable. Lud, but she’d missed him. He seemed happy here, though. Back in uniform and working.

  She would have sworn that it had been no more than an hour since he’d left when she heard a knock at the door. “Yes?” She asked as she scrambled to put his jacket back in the cabinet as he’d had it.

  “We’re about to cast off. I thought you might want to see it from on deck.”

  “Oh, yes! Yes, please. One moment.” She ran her hand over her hair to make sure she hadn’t mussed it too much before she opened the door.

  “It was locked,” he said, sounding pleased.

  “Of course it was locked.” She stepped out in the corridor and locked the door again behind her.

  “You should go first,” he said, waving her past him in the tight hall. “I can catch you if you slip.”

  She had to sidle past and their bodies brushed. It was tempting to stop in front of him and insist on a kiss. But even with the cover story of being affianced it was dangerous to show herself as being a woman with loose morals around a pack of men. So she walked to the stairs and started up them. He pressed up against her back and covered her hands with his own on the railings. “Hold tight,” he said softly into her hair. “I didn’t lose you in a fire, it would be disheartening to lose you to something as silly as slipping between decks.”

  Her excellent intentions almost deserted her. If he asked her to go back to the cabin with him she would say yes. Hell, she’d probably say yes to the floor here. Let the rest of the crew step over them if they were so determined to go somewhere. When he stepped away she felt more unsteady than she had before his instruction and took a deep breath before heading up. She could feel the weight of his booted steps only a few rungs below hers. It was damnably tempting to fall back just to have him catch her. But she made it all the way to the deck without incident. Once he was topside he threaded her arm in his and guided her to a spot where she could watch without being in the way.

  It was fascinating watching the men work. They were in such accord that it was like seeing the interior of a swiss watch, every part doing exactly as it must exactly when it must. They cast off from the dock and slipped out of the port like a leaf caught in a runnel. She’d been right in thinking the little boat was fast, and once out past the harbor they let the sails fully catch the wind. It was speed and wind and the spray of ocean water. She loved it! She hugged close to Reggie’s arm in her excitement. laughing.

  He patted her hand and smiled down at her. “Ready to go back down?” he shouted over the sound of the wind, sea, and rigging.

  “Never!”

  He smiled and went back to watching the water with her. She couldn’t imagine this ever getting old, the excitement of skimming across the sea. Impressment sounded like a horrible thing, but to be on the ocean was wonderful. She hoped Reggie liked it as well as she did, seeing as how he’d spent a good deal of his life out here.

  After a half hour she was soaked and chilled. Her spirit embraced the sea, but apparently her flesh was not up to the task! She crowded closer to Reggie, hoping to absorb some of his heat through his coat. It seemed fruitless, however.

  He leaned down. “Ready to go below now?”

  She nodded sheepishly. Once on the companionway she found the rails were much slicker under her cold, wet gloves. She gave a slight shriek as she slipped a bit and Reggie held her secure with a hand to her bum. How embarrassing! As she moved down the rungs he changed his grip to her hips and then her waist, pulling her off before she could step down on her own.

  “I can do it,” she insisted, pushing her wet hair out of her eyes as she turned.

  “I’ve no doubt,” he assured her with a devilish grin. “But why miss the opportunity?”

  She was about to say ‘Oh, stop’ when she realized what that reminded her of. Grief was a funny thing. Just now it lodged in her throat as a bittersweet pain she couldn’t express. She brushed past him to go unlock the door to her cabin.

  Ever attentive, he was at her heels. “What’s wrong?”

  She st
opped in the doorway. “Something just reminded me of my parents, that’s all.”

  “I hesitate to ask what that might be.”

  The tightness in her throat eased a bit as she chuckled. “My father would tease my mother all the time.”

  Reggie leaned against her door. “So you inherited your wicked tongue from him.” Not a question, but a statement.

  “Not exactly. He was more,” she searched for the proper word. “Light hearted. To be honest, I probably learned it from George.”

  “Good God, who is George?”

  “She is one of Jack’s good friends.”

  “Lady George.”

  “No, I’m fairly certain her husband isn’t a noble. Jack would have mentioned that in her letters.”

  “Can I assume that somewhere you have a male cousin named Lucy?”

  “Oh, just wait until you meet them, you’ll see that their names fit them quite well. Jack taught me how to shoot and ride.”

  ***

  Reggie would be happy to stand in the doorway and chat with this adorable little hellion all night, but she needed to dry off and change for supper. She was clearly quite chilled even though she’d worn the woolen dress.

  “The next time we go up,” he said, “you’ll need to wear your coat.”

  She nodded. “True enough.”

  She didn’t seem inclined to disappear inside the cabin. Was she lingering to chat with him, too?

  “I should go,” he said.

  “You have work?”

  “No, I just…” He couldn’t think what else to say. He just needed to stay away from her. They clearly couldn’t be trusted in close quarters, and quarters didn’t get much closer than her cabin. After how he’d bitten at her and accused her of trying to become his mistress he doubted that she would invite him in anyway. He noticed her lower lip quivering and worried that he’d somehow inspired a crying jag, but realized it was her teeth chattering. He put his hands to her cheeks. “How cold are you?”

  “Cold,” she admitted, resting her gloved hands over his. “But I’ve been colder. Northern girl and all.”

  “You were clearly not made to be a northern girl.”

  She smiled in acknowledgment, then closed her eyes to enjoy the warmth of his hands. He looked up and down the corridor to make sure no one was about.

  “Inside,” he said.

  She startled as though she had already been drifting off standing there, but stepped back to let him into the small space. He closed the door swiftly.

  “Take off your dress.”

  She was surprised. “Well, I-You’ll have to help me with the buttons.” She turned and he finally noticed that the dress buttoned up the back.

  “How did you get into this?” He started flicking the tiny buttons open.

  “A maid at the hotel. I put it on last night.”

  “Anxious to be on your way?”

  “I couldn’t miss my first sailing trip, could I?” Once it was loose enough she stepped out of it, revealing that she only wore the tissue thin chemise beneath. The fancy garment had seemed a good and even practical investment at the shop. She could wear it under the thin silk dresses popular in London. At the moment, however, it was more of a punch to the gut. It meant he could see almost every detail and line of her back and bottom. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over her shoulders, then turned he and pulled her into his embrace before he could assess whether the silk revealed just as many details about her front.

  “Warmer?” he asked.

  “Your pants are cold.”

  “I am not taking off my pants.”

  “You asked.”

  Bloody hell, with the thin fabric of the chemise she might as well be snuggling an iceberg. “Fine. Turn around.”

  She stepped back. “It’s not like I haven’t seen-”

  Oh, but he hadn’t. And now he could. The silk from her navel down was damp from where she’d been pressed against his trousers. He wanted to dip his tongue into that perfect little oval on her abdomen more than he wanted to breathe. And he could just make out the shadow of her curls through the nearly transparent cloth.

  Something in his expression must have frightened her, because she pulled his coat more tightly across her chest and turned around as he’d asked. Shucking off his trousers he sent up a prayer that he lived through the next few minutes. When he touched her shoulder she turned willingly enough back into his arms.

  “Warm enough?” he whispered into her hair.

  “Oh yes.”

  Her response made him chuckle. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

  “Yes.” She was quiet for a bit and he enjoyed the feeling of her pressed against him. Even if it did make things rather awkward. She hadn’t complained about his erection pressing into her belly between them, though. “Reggie?” Well, perhaps here it came, then. “Are you going to ask me to marry you?”

  He drew back to look down into her eyes. She looked troubled, as though the answer weren’t certain. “Yes.”

  That only made her more confused instead of less so. “Why haven’t you then?”

  “Can a man not have a plan?”

  “Can a woman not have some certainty?” That stopped him. Of course she was worried about her future.

  He kissed her forehead. “One way or the other I’ll make certain you’re taken care of.”

  She stepped back. “That I’m taken care of?”

  Would it always be like this? Would he always be confused over why she took umbrage at phrases he thought perfectly innocent? “Isn’t that what you want?”

  He realized that he was raising his voice when he saw her stricken expression. Bloody hell. He thought he might prefer if she shot him again instead of looking like that, like she would either cry or start throwing things.

  Her voice was harsh with unshed tears as she huffed, “I was a bloody fool for falling in love with you.”

  He felt a sharp and sudden pain and wondered if perhaps she had shot him again. “I-What?” His voice sounded hollow, like he was hearing himself from the other end of a well. “You’ve done what?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Why did the damn man always need to make things so difficult?

  “I fell in love with you, you irritating oaf.” Bloody hell, she was crying and her nose was getting stuffy. “And right now I have no idea why because you don’t understand anything.”

  He pulled her into a kiss. If they’d fallen off the boat and were in danger of drowning she imagined this was the sort of kiss he might give her. Desperate, as though they had everything and nothing to lose. When he broke away he kept her trapped forehead to forehead.

  “Let’s agree,” he said, his breathing ragged and eyes closed, “that I understand nothing. Explain it to me.”

  “If you ask me to marry you then I can decide if I want to.”

  “And being in love with me has some bearing on this?”

  “Some small bearing,” she grumbled. He smiled as though she’d whispered sweet nothings instead. He finally pulled back and opened his eyes to look down at her.

  “And the fact that I’m in love with you, does that have any bearing?”

  Her heart bloomed but she also wanted to beat him senseless. He was in love with her? Since when? “None at all,” she assured him, but couldn’t keep the grin from her face. His answering grin turned wolfish.

  “Francie Walters, would you marry me?”

  Oh God, now that the question was out there she rather wished he hadn’t asked. If she demurred at this point he would be quite justified in throttling her. But was it what she wanted? To marry him and run off to Bermuda and spend all her time with Navy men and boats and the ocean? Well, now that she put it that way.

  “Yes?”

  He put his hands on his hips. “You don’t sound certain, Francie Walters. I’ll not have a wife who doesn’t wish to be with me.”

  “Fine, yes. Yes! Let’s get married this minute.”

  He stepped forward in th
e small space, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her toward him. “This very minute?”

  “If it’s not too inconvenient,” she said brightly.

  He brushed his lips over hers once. Twice. The teasing kisses drove her mad for more and she captured his head to keep him close for a longer kiss. He pushed his coat off her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her back. He broke the kiss. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to do,” he said. With that he hoisted her up to his waist and her legs instinctively wrapped around him. Keeping one arm securely behind her back he leaned forward and kissed her breast through the thin silk. She gasped from the incredible sensation.

  “Reggie,” she said, burying her hands in his hair.

  Once he’d laved and sucked the nipple until she was writhing he moved his attentions to the other. She realized now that all their previous encounters had only been play compared to this. She couldn’t catch her breath and he was only starting.

  “We should have figured this out at the inn,” she gasped.

  “Why?”

  “Bigger beds.”

  He chuckled and pulled her closer. “I love you, Francie Walters.”

  “I love you, Reggie Burnham.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at her, quite serious. “You’re mine now, and I’m yours. Tonight and forever.”

  “Tonight and forever,” she agreed.

  He set her on her feet again. “Take off your chemise.”

  She felt surprisingly shy considering everything they’d already done, but pulled the thin silk off over her head.

  He stared at her body with a burning intensity. “You’re so beautiful it almost hurts to look at you.”

  Perhaps she was starting to remember why she was in love with him after all. He took her left hand and kissed the tattoo on her wrist. Yes, it was definitely coming back to her. “Do I get to look at you too?” she asked huskily.

  He pulled off his shirt as though he were only waiting for her to ask. She’d not seen, well, that before, but she’d felt it earlier. And other times when they’d embraced.