Silence Is Golden

by Sara Ackerman

  “At the minimum, you need to leave the ship,” Beatrice reminded them. “If you stay here much longer, you won’t be able to marry and prove it. I assume you had a plan to get off this ship when you snuck aboard it?”

  “I have some ideas, but I’ve been hoping you have a better one than what I’ve been able to concoct.”

  Beatrice lit a few more candles and spread out a large map on the table. “We’d better get to work.”

  ****

  It was well past midnight. Evie had gone to bed hours before, while he and Beatrice were still discussing the best way to get off the ship and avoid discovery. After several unworkable plans, they had settled on a more promising one, and now they were reviewing the details one last time.

  “Between seven and nine tomorrow night, we will be passing the Channel Islands before the Stallion veers west and sails to Brest on France’s western shores, her final destination.” Beatrice drew a line charting the course of the Stallion near the archipelago between England and the northern coast of France. “The island of Guernsey is located here.” She drew a circle around it. “The Stallion will sail past the eastern edge of the island, where you will want to land in St. Peter’s Port.”

  “We will marry by special license, though from what Mr. Blackburn was telling me before I left, Guernsey, while not as popular as Gretna Green, regularly hosts eloping brides and grooms. Still, I’m glad to have the special license. It is my guarantee that nothing will go wrong.” He patted his breast pocket where he kept the special license, procured by Mr. Blackburn before leaving Atwood Manor to return to his parish. Along with the license, he had sent his wishes for the couple’s long and happy future together, and an invitation to visit whenever their journey came to an end. “We will wait for another ship to take us back to England.”

  “You were sure of yourself, weren’t you, Coombes? You knew she would say yes, otherwise why would you risk your life to come on this ship and rescue her? Either you’re foolhardy and perhaps soft in the head, or you were sure she’d say yes.”

  “One fact alone was clear to me. A lifetime without her was worse than whatever fate awaited aboard ship. Her uncle insisted we marry, yet despite his wishes, I would not have forced her to accept my proposal. Still, I would have found a way to keep her safe. Nothing would have changed.”

  “Yet you still hoped.”

  “Yes, I hoped.”

  “She won’t be an easy wife. She’ll be forever headstrong and opinionated.”

  “And spoiled and rash.”

  She laughed. “Agreed.”

  “But she’s also intelligent, funny, good-natured, tenderhearted, and—”

  “And you love her,” she concluded.

  “And I love her. I can’t imagine how I lived before meeting her. Society may have deemed me a man years ago, but I tell you, the day she slipped her hand in mine and I helped her from our coach was the day I became one. I would do anything for her, because in the end, what kind of man would I be if I let her down?”

  The levity left her face. “This is why I know I can trust you to do as I ask. You get her off this ship and to safety. No matter what.”

  They had argued about this for hours, and though he still didn’t agree, he knew Beatrice was right. She had to stay with the ship and finish her mission. Though she skirted the issue, he knew whatever she was tasked with doing was important to secure the safety of thousands of innocent lives.

  “I will not fail either of you, Beatrice, you can depend on me,” he promised.

  “I know, yet I question whether I have condemned you to a lifetime of unhappiness and regret.”

  “There is no other choice. I will do as I must and pray she will forgive me.”

  “Get some sleep. It’s going to be a long night. You’ll need whatever rest you can get.”

  “And you?” He knew her task was far more dangerous and difficult. “Will you not sleep?”

  “No, there’s too much to do yet.” Beatrice donned her captain’s attire and reaffixed her wig and tricorn, transforming into the formidable Captain Allan Brathwaite before his eyes. She stooped low and brushed a kiss across her slumbering sister’s forehead, leaving her vulnerable for a fraction of a second. It was enough, though, for him to see the pain and heartache her choices had caused her. But in a blink of an eye, she tucked them away and hid them behind a mask of arrogant indifference. She straightened, strode to the door, and was gone.

  He didn’t know if they would ever meet again.

  Chapter 24

  ”What time is it?” Her eyes drifted open. Damask curtains hung heavy around the bed, enclosing the generous berth in an unnatural darkness. The air within was warm and close, and no breeze came close to cooling the sticky humidity. The counterpane stuck to her legs, and she pushed the offending covers off. It was not enough. She loosened her hose from her garters and ripped them off her legs. Her dress, whose skirts tangled about her legs, was a much easier affair. Far simpler than she was accustomed to wearing, it was an immodest garment of poor quality, one her sister had given her after her capture, as her own dress had been rendered unwearable. Though ill-fitting and ugly, it was easy to remove without assistance. A single strip of cloth tied about her middle kept the gown in place. Once that was untied, it was easy enough to push it all down her body and fling it away from her. Relief, once it came, was immediate. Her body now clad in a thin linen shift, her legs reveled in the unfettered freedom to roam about the bed, the cool sheets doing much to ease her discomfort. Content at last, she rolled over and snuggled into her pillow. Large hands cupped her hips and pulled her against something hard and familiar. She squeaked.

  “Are you through undressing, or are you of a mind to take it all off?” an amused voice grunted near her ear, tickling the hair on her cheek. She swiped at the errant strands and was met with warm, hair-roughened flesh. Turning her head, she came nose to nose with the object of her most recent dreams. “What are you doing in bed with me?”

  “I was obeying your sister’s orders.” He burrowed his hands under the hem of her shift. His palm cupped the bare skin of her leg and wandered farther up her thigh.

  When he rested his palm on her stomach and traced lazy figure-eights around her navel, pleasure spiraled in tight circles, gathering at the base of her spine. She managed to ask, “She told you to get in bed with me?”

  He sighed and nuzzled his nose into the hollow of her neck. “I believe her exact words were to ‘get some rest.’ ”

  His hand roamed higher on her torso, feathering the sensitive skin of her ribcage with the most delicate of touches. He found the underside of her breast, and padded fingers traced the creases and curves of her tender flesh.

  “The floor would have also been an acceptable option.” She squirmed within his embrace.

  “Hmm, but if I slept on the floor, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He palmed her breast and found the aching bud of flesh with his clever fingers. When he lowered his head and replaced those wicked fingers with his mouth, she panted, “What are you doing?”

  He took his time to respond, as his mouth was far too busy to answer. When at last he raised his head, he smiled, the white of his teeth flashing brilliant in their dark haven. “I’m trying to make love to you.”

  “Are you sure it’s because you want to and not because my uncle is forcing you?”

  Though she had been asleep for most of the night, she had awakened at one point to hear their hushed whispers. The news he shared was unsettling, and it had troubled her until sleep had claimed her once again. Those sleepy, hazy remnants had returned to taunt her with their ugly truth. Uncle had forced him to ask for her.

  His languorous seduction halted. “You heard us?”

  She wriggled out from underneath his embrace and curled on her side to face him. “Tell me. Is he forcing you to do this?”

  “At one point, he did threaten to force a union between us, but it has been many weeks since I came to realize it’s not force if it’s som
ething I already wanted to happen. We were to be married. I wanted you to come to care for me on your own, not because your uncle was forcing you to or because I was forcing you, but because you wanted to.”

  “The day in the gazebo, after you finished telling me how unsuitable you were for me, were you lying?”

  “Your uncle and I had learned of the threat against you. He wanted to expedite our marriage, so I could take you to my home and keep you safe. I’m not proud of it, but I went about trying to seduce you. If you were bound to me by flesh, you would have to accept me even if you did not wish to.”

  “But I had told you I wanted you, cared for you. Why did you trick me?”

  “We had to consummate it, or there was a chance you would back out.”

  She rose and flung open the bed curtain, anger quick to replace passion. Storming over to the little cabinet where Beatrice stored her liquor, she opened it, poured herself a drink, and proceeded to drain it in one gulp. “Do you imagine my affections for you are any less because they are new?”

  He scrambled out of bed and grabbed her hands. “A month previous, you were hell bent on getting to France so you could marry Newgate. While I suspected you had an attachment, what chance did I have when compared to him? As I told you in my proposal, a match between us will be difficult. There will be challenges. I didn’t want you to become involved with me if you had any reservations. I couldn’t stand it if you were to wake up one morning full of regrets, having to live with your resentment and anger. Disappointing you was not an option.”

  How frustrating he is and more dim-witted than I had credited him for! Snatching her hands from his, she went to the window and welcomed the salty sea air. The cool night breeze did much to calm her mind. In spite of my assurances, he insists on believing the worst. She had already told him she did not mind a simpler life. She had explained she was happy to bear anything as long as they were together, so why did he still doubt her? Glancing over her shoulder, she took in how he stood there, dejected, shoulders slumped, and in an instant she saw, peering out from the face she loved, a sad, lonely man staring back. Compassion quelled her anger, and she returned to his side.

  He had always appeared so confident and sure of himself, and she often forgot the burden of responsibility thrust upon him at a young age. He had not had time to develop close relationships, nor foster trust in anyone but himself and his small familial circle. Over the years, disappointment and regret had conditioned him to believe he did not deserve happiness, and thus he was so reluctant to believe her. Laying her head on his chest, she wrapped her arms about his waist. “It’s not me you doubted, was it?”

  He engulfed her in his arms and buried his head on her neck.

  Her heart broke a little at the sadness emanating from him. “When I said I’d come to you, I knew what I was agreeing to. You didn’t have to manipulate me or bind me to you with actions instead of words. My answer was and still is yes.”

  “For better or worse?” He searched her face, and she knew what he needed to know. Would she take him as he was, trust in him to provide for her, care enough to stay by him when life became difficult?

  She led him back to the bed and knelt beside him on the mattress. Grabbing the hem of her shift, she pulled it over her head and tossed the garment aside. She lay down and held out her arms, beckoning him in. “For always.”

  He wasted no time in removing his shirt and breeches. He knelt, towering over her, nothing but skin between them. The curtains they had opened allowed in a sliver of moonlight, and it caught the glint of smooth metal hanging from his chest. It seemed to vibrate in front of her eyes.

  She took it in her hand. “It’s warm,” she whispered.

  “It always is when I’m near you.” He trailed kisses over the soft skin of her neck and shoulders, down onto the curving slope of her breast and belly, the metal disc trailing a fiery wake over her already heated skin.

  “Will you let me love you now?” His eyes burned like brilliant sapphires as he brought his weight on top of her, the raspy hairs of his legs and chest causing the deep well of tension to increase.

  Wrapping her legs about his hips, she guided him into the welcoming heat of her body and sighed when he moved within. Her choice was already made, had been made all those weeks ago when she had slipped her hand into his.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 25

  The sun had come and gone by the time they emerged from behind the bed curtains, tousled and rosy from hours of love. After the first time of two lost souls uniting, they had pulled the curtains and slept. Hours later he had awakened to playful kisses as she nibbled her way across his chest and abdomen. When she saw he had awakened, her light caresses deepened, until she fit herself on top of him and loved him until they both peaked in a heated, slippery rush.

  “How do I look?” She finished lacing her boots and stood, the borrowed breeches doing nothing to hide her tempting curves. She preened in front of him, exposing the rounded mounds of her buttocks to his assessing gaze. His body stood taut and at attention, eager to have her legs tangled with his, to hear her soft cries panting in his ears.

  “Men’s breeches disguise nothing,” he said, not knowing whether to be pleased or appalled. He was a rational man and knew she needed a disguise. A gown would serve no other purpose than to slow them down, and in order for them to escape unharmed, they had to move unhindered. Still, he resented the cloth of those blasted breeks, for it cupped her buttocks, tempting him with what he couldn’t have at the moment.

  “I know.” She glided over to him, with a glance at his own breeches. They tightened further from her bold touch. “Do any doubts remain as to why I wished to fling myself upon you?”

  He coughed to hide his embarrassment. Of the many revelations last night brought, learning his body was pleasing to her astonished him the most. He had not believed her whispered confession of how she had to hold herself back from jumping into his arms, had in fact scoffed at her declaration. He was not handsome, nor did he say he wasn’t out of some sort of false modesty. By London’s standards, he was average, nondescript, yet she had insisted and even went so far as to show him she spoke the truth. When she was done with him, all doubts regarding his physical appeal had fled. In spite of her many flaws, he found no fault with her thoroughness.

  “Ahem. It’s best you put on the coat your sister left out. Otherwise you’ll give us away.” He slapped her rear, and she squealed.

  “That’s new.” She grabbed hold of his lapels. “Federico can try it again when we have more time.”

  His pulses beat a rapid staccato, heating his blood at her daringness. “Your sister was right. You are going to kill me before we leave this damnable ship.”

  She laughed and pulled on her coat. It was several sizes too big, hanging well past her derrière. Some of the fire eased with that temptation out of sight. “I promised to be with you forever and always. I never promised I’d be boring.” Grimacing, she picked up the knit sailor’s cap and pulled it over her head. She spread out her arms and did a twirl. “Will I pass?”

  Wispy strands of light blonde hair stuck out at odd angles, and he cupped her chin in one hand, tucking the stray hairs out of sight with the other. “You may be dressed like a man, but you’ll never pass for one. One look into those sparkling eyes and heart-shaped face and you’ll be found out for sure.”

  “Alfred,” she murmured, and leaned up for a kiss.

  “Don’t hate me, but I have to do this.”

  Something wet landed on her cheeks, and she wrinkled her nose. “What foulness is this?”

  “Finishing your disguise.”

  “With what? Cow dung?”

  He applied a liberal dollop to her forehead and rubbed it down her cheeks. “It’s better you don’t know.”

  The goo slid down her nose, and the ripe aroma made her gag. “You’re right. I don’t want to know.”

  A knock sounded on the door as he wiped the last of the mixture onto her face.
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br />   “Shh,” he cautioned. He motioned for her to grab the two packs he had prepared as he crept to the door.

  The knock came again, but in a different pattern than before. He unlatched the clasp, and another man entered.

  “Jones! Whatever are you doing here?”

  “I’ve worked with your sister for several years. She has instructed me to take you to the dinghy.”

  “Will Beatrice be joining us later?” To complete her costume, Evie strapped on her pack and pulled her knit cap lower over her forehead.

  As before when she had questioned him in the hold, he did not answer her question and instead gave her another object to take. “She instructed me to give you this.” Jones gave her a sealed envelope bearing her name. “She asked for you to please read it after you and Mr. Coombes have arrived at St. Peter’s Church.”

  He took off his pack and removed a piece of oiled leather. “I’ll place it in here with the other documents, so it won’t get wet.”

  With some reluctance, she handed it over. An unsettling sensation, not at all dissimilar to dread, took root in her chest, and as irrational as it seemed, she sensed by giving up her letter she was giving up Beatrice.

  He took the paper and put it with the other items, nesting it with tender care. Refolding the leather cloth, he placed it in his pack and repositioned it on his back. “We’re ready when you are.”

  When they stepped out of the captain’s quarters, an unnatural calm had descended on the deck. The clouds had cleared, and stars winked in the black sky. Even the waves had settled and no longer wrestled with the ship as she made her way across the murky waters.

  “Where are all the men?” she whispered.

  “Drugged,” came Jones’s terse reply. “The captain’s been busy these last several hours making sure there weren’t no one to interfere with you getting off this ship.”

  They crept several more feet and arrived, mid-ship, by a small, insignificant-looking boat hung over the starboard side.

  “This is what we are going to escape in? It looks like it will hold water and nothing more.”