by Lucy Monroe
June 5, 1798
Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley
"I took out a policy on the return date of my ship with Lloyd's of London."
She smoothed her skirt, reminding him of the altogether pleasing legs beneath the thin muslin. Merewether had said she was oblivious, but could any woman be that ignorant of her feminine appeal?
"So if you don't return by a certain date, you'll lose your money?" she asked.
"Yes."
"It must be a very large policy."
He flicked the reins, encouraging the horses to pick up their pace. "Not that large, but…" He let his voice trail off. Did he want to explain the other? Would she, a woman, even understand?
"But what?"
Blue eyes blazing with intelligence and curiosity compelled him to speak.
"I convinced several friends to invest their money in the venture."
"I don't understand. If you return a day or two late with the cargo, it will still fetch the same price in the market, will it not?"
Her understanding of business still discomposed him. "My friends did not only invest in the cargo, but they invested in the journey. They have each taken out policies as well."
She sniffed. "It sounds like a wager to me."
He smiled at her disapproving tone. "There are plenty of those, too. Many people did not believe that we could meet with any more success than the SS Savannah."
"But the Savannah's journey was a success."
"She used her sails for the voyage almost exclusively. We wanted to use the engine to increase the pace of the journey."
"Have you?"
"Yes."
The seam connecting the boiler to the pipe for the escape valve had blown when he had insisted the captain push on with the engine through an abnormally long becalm at sea. The weakened seam was explained when they discovered that some idiot seaman had used salt rather than fresh water to refill the boiler. It had taken precious time and fresh water to rectify that part of the mess. However, without the uses of a competent blacksmith, the engine would be dead weight for the rest of the voyage.
"Then you have succeeded even if you do not return by the specified date."
He turned toward her, wondering at the certainty in her voice. "You think so?"
Her eyes shone with certainty and he had to quickly tamp down the urge to cover her soft lips, parted in exclamation, with his own.
"Oh, yes. Just think, you've done what no one else has been able to do. The SS Savannah didn't pick up cargo. She just carried passengers. But you've done both. You'll be returning to England covered in glory."
He shook his head at her naiveté. More likely he'd be returning with his honor in shreds if the Golden Dragon's captain could not make up for the time lost.
Thea laid the fountain pen down on the ledger and sighed. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to ease some of the tension from her body. Her office on the second floor of the warehouse was quiet, almost too quiet, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
After leaving Drake and his boiler with Jacob, she had returned to the warehouse to check the latest set of ledgers that had arrived on Whiskey Jim's ship. She looked back at the neat columns of numbers and entries.
She had not been mistaken. The discrepancies were well hidden, but they were there. It had not been a onetime mistake as she had hoped. The pilfering was consistent and unmistakable.
If only she knew who was responsible. She cringed at the thought that Uncle Ashby's nephew in the London office had been stealing from the company.
She could not ignore the fact that he hadn't yet responded to her letter inquiring into the discrepancies. Could the letter have been misdirected? Cold invaded her insides at the thought that the letter had made it into the hands of the culprit, that the near-fatal accident in the warehouse earlier was linked in some way.
Drake's was not the only ship in port. Even Whiskey Jim's could have brought an accomplice to the thief down to her island. Ship captains were forced to pick up new sailors in almost every port. It was a rough life, and jumping ship at port of call was all too common. Because of that, a strange sailor found lurking around the warehouse would cause little interest and no concern.
If her near accident had been engineered, that was all the more reason for her to make the trip to England. Uncle Ashby and Aunt Ruth had to be protected, just as her mother had protected her by coming to the West Indies.
Thea looked down at the ledger again, noting the subtlety of the entries.
Did someone besides Uncle Ashby's nephew have enough knowledge and access to the accounts to perpetrate the scheme? She had to find out, and before her partner began to suspect that all was not well. If his nephew were the culprit, Ashby Merewether would be devastated. His already weak heart might give out entirely. She could not face that possibility.
She must do something.
Her eyes strayed to the letter lying beside the ledger on the polished wood of the desk. Lady Upworth had invited her to attend the Season, just as she had every year since Thea's seventeenth birthday. It would be the perfect excuse for a sudden trip to England. Aunt Ruth and Uncle Ashby had been urging her to take her place in Society for years. Even more so since Uncle Ashby's health had deteriorated.
She picked up the letter and smoothed its folds. The Merewethers had good intentions, as did her great-aunt, but she wondered if they realized how adamantly opposed to establishing a relationship with the Earl of Langley she was. She would never embrace the harsh man who had fathered her, and would not take her place in Society if acknowledging him was required to do so.
However, she would go to London. She wanted to meet her great-aunt, Lady Upworth. Thea knew the older woman through letters and the many sketches she sent of Jared and London life, but had never met her.
Lifting the letter, she gazed at the sketch underneath. She let her finger trail along the scar on Jared's face. He had gotten it saving the life of their half sister, Irisa, when he was fourteen. She could still remember the day it happened. She'd had a terrible nightmare that night and dreamed a beast had attacked her with its claws. The following month she had gotten a letter from Lady Upworth telling her of Jared's heroic deed and the mark left on his face.
She wanted to meet her brother. She knew so much about him and yet nothing at all. The longing to meet the flesh of her flesh grew every year. She knew what he liked, what he did, how he behaved, and what he looked like through Lady Upworth's letters, but Thea had no idea how her twin brother felt about anything. Lady Upworth said that he was a very private gentleman, not given to expressing his emotion.
Would he be like their father? She had to believe that he would be a better man, a kinder man. Some of her own emotions and cares must be reflected in him. They were, after all, twins.
And Irisa, would she be as mischievous as she looked in Lady Upworth's sketches? Longing to know both her brother and half sister welled up in Thea.
Her gaze went of its own accord to the window of her office. The sight of the still blue water of the harbor had been a source of comfort since the death of her mother. The island represented safety, and the sea, and adventure. As a child, she had vowed to experience that adventure someday. Evidently, the time had come.
Her eyes strayed to Drake's ship, the Golden Dragon. She smiled. It had sailed into their harbor at the most opportune time.
Drake's insistence that he arrive in England by the date specified on his Lloyd's of London policy would certainly be in her favor. The sooner she got to London, the better were her chances of unmasking the thief before Uncle Ashby even realized something was wrong, or before another so-called accident took place.
She simply had to convince Drake to let her sail on his ship. Remembering the conversation of the morning, she thought she just knew what it would take.
She felt a certain amount of trepidation at the thought of a five-week-long voyage in close quarters with Drake. She felt things around the ship-owner that had never plagued
her before. Womanly desires and inexplicable excitations. She could not seem to resist staring at him, and a mortifying urge to touch him plagued her.
She would simply have to find a way to avoid him aboard ship. She could not afford to be sidetracked from her goal by a gentleman, nor did she particularly wish to be beset by further odd and compelling feelings.
She took a piece of foolscap and copied down the pertinent entries. Closing the ledger, she hid it with the others that showed discrepancies. She rather doubted Uncle Ashby would get curious and go looking for them. The numbers side of business was not the dear man's forte.
"No." Although, he was not known for tact, Drake found himself being even blunter with Thea than he was with others. She was clearly used to getting her own way, but he could not accommodate her latest whim. "It is out of the question for us to remain in port while you ready for the journey."
He felt a certain amount of regret. The thought of her stimulating company on the remainder of the voyage held appeal, but he could not spare the time a lady needed to prepare for such a journey.
"Surely such a short delay would not compromise your schedule."
Disappointment warred with irritation. He did not like feminine manipulation. He had thought after their discussion earlier that she understood that he was honor bound to reach England within five weeks.
"No." He turned back to watch Jacob work, hoping she was intelligent enough to recognize the dismissal.
"How much?"
The words struck him raw, and the tether he had on his patience slipped a notch. "My honor is not for sale."
Jacob ceased his movement on the bellows and stepped away from the forge. Crossing his arms over the massive barrel of his chest, he fixed Drake with a glare. "Miz Thea, she be wanting to sail on your ship, sir."
Drake's hands curled into fists at his side as he tried to maintain what little was left of his patience. "I am aware of that, Jacob, but it is impossible. I am already losing too much time to this repair."
They would be hours ahead had the blacksmith been willing to come aboard the Golden Dragon.
Jacob did not look in the least repentant. He turned his gaze on Thea. "Miz Thea, you be wanting to go on Mr. Drake's ship?"
Thea nodded her head. "Yes, Jacob. Very much. I have my own schedule to keep and none of our ships will be sailing for England for at least a month."
Jacob turned back to Drake. "You take de passengers, yes?"
Drake gave a reluctant nod. "Yes, but I cannot delay long enough for Miss Selwyn to get ready."
How many times would he have to say it before both the stubborn woman and blacksmith would accept that he would not risk his honor for Thea's desire to attend the Season?
"Miz Thea, you be delaying Mr. Drake?"
Thea shook her head vehemently. "No. I can be ready to sail in two hours."
Drake laughed. He could not help it. No lady of his acquaintance could prepare for an evening at the opera in that amount of time much less an ocean voyage. Most women took months to prepare for such a journey. Even two weeks would seem short. Two hours was absurd.
"I'm afraid Miss Selwyn is not being realistic."
Thea glared at him.
He returned her glare with an easy smile. "The Golden Dragon will be weeks out of the harbor by the time you are packed and ready to go. You have more chance being ready for one of your own ships sailing in the month."
"You be going without your boiler, sir?"
Dread snaked up Drake's spine and, along with it, fury. "No." If he had to do the damn repair himself, he'd have the boiler and be sailing out of the harbor before nightfall.
Jacob nodded as if Drake had confirmed his belief. "It won't be ready for…" He let his words trail off and turned to Thea for guidance.
"Two hours," she said firmly.
"Two hours," repeated the big blacksmith.
Drake knew when to fight and when to allow his opponent to believe he, or in this case, she had won.
He fixed Thea with his gaze. "The Golden Dragon will sail in two hours with her boiler. If you wish to sail on her, you and your luggage will be aboard."
He would have reiterated that she would be left behind otherwise, but in a swirl of bright muslin, she was gene.
Jacob grinned at Drake. "She be aboard, sir. You can be counting on it."
Drake shrugged as if his heart had not increased its rhythm at the very thought of Thea sailing on his ship. Not to mention that other parts of his anatomy sat up and took notice as well. "If she wants to sail, she will be."
"I be finishing the boiler now, sir."
"Excellent."
Thea's bedroom looked like a blue northerner had blown through it. Clothes lay strewn across the counterpane of her bed. A nearly full trunk and valise reposed on the floor near the wardrobe.
"I don't understand this unseemly haste, dear. Surely you could have waited to sail on one of our ships after taking proper time to prepare for the voyage."
Thea gritted her teeth as she answered the complaint from her adopted aunt for what felt like the tenth time in less than an hour. "You always said that if I were to attend the Season, I would have to buy a whole new wardrobe in London. Therefore, it would be silly to take the time to prepare and pack gowns that I will not wear."
Aunt Ruth sighed. "Yes. There is that. But, dear, I could wish that you would make a better impression on your great-aunt than to show up with a meager trunk and valise. Are you sure Mr. Drake won't wait just one more day?"
Thea almost laughed. "Quite sure, Aunt Ruth. In fact, if we don't hurry, I'll be left behind as it is."
Aunt Ruth resumed her packing. "If you say so, dear."
She muttered something about Ashby and his plans that made no sense to Thea, but she did not have time to puzzle out the older woman's meaning.
Thea handed her maid, Melly, the stack of her mother's journals. "Please pack these in the trunk with utmost care, Melly."
The older woman took the journals with reverent hands. "You can be assured of that, miss."
Thea smiled at her maid. Melly had insisted on traveling with her mother to the West Indies. She had served Anna loyally, choosing to remain and care for Thea after Anna's death. Thea had wanted to give Melly her own cottage and an allowance in thanks for her loyalty, but the maid would not hear of it. A lady's maid she was and a lady's maid she would remain, she insisted.
"Melly, are you sure you don't mind traveling with me on such little advance warning like this? I could make the journey alone."
Aunt Ruth gasped. "No such thing. You are a lady, Thea, for all your business dealings. Your mother would turn in her grave were you to even contemplate such a journey alone."
Melly agreed. "That she would. Miss, I don't mind returning to England, no matter what the hurry to catch the ship. I look that forward to it. I do."
Thea smiled. "I'm glad."
"I don't look forward to sailing, though. I was that sick the entire journey here. Your mother had her sainted hands full caring for you and me both."
Laying her hand on Melly's arm, Thea smiled. "I'll take just as good care of you. And perhaps you won't get so sick this time. It's been many years."
Melly crossed herself. "I can pray, miss."
Drake and his men finished hauling the boiler over the side of the ship. They would set sail and reattach the boiler en route. Turning back to the rail, he scanned the bay. No managing female in a small dingy anywhere in sight. She had not made it after all. He chided himself for believing she would.
Thea was intriguing. She was unique. She enticed him as no other woman had, but she had proven that she was not that different from other ladies of his acquaintance. Even if she was more stubborn. In the end, she had needed more time than he could spare to prepare herself.
The captain gave orders to raise anchor. Drake stifled the urge to ask him to wait as he scanned the bay one more time for any sign of the determined female. He resolutely turned from the bay and stopped in shock
at the sight that met him. Thea stood conversing with his sailors while examining the boiler. She had changed her dress and now wore a bright yellow gown of India cotton. The matching parasol tilted at a negligent angle that he was certain did little to protect her skin from the sun.
The sailor speaking to her wore a look of besotted enchantment and a smile that would make most ladies cringe. What teeth he had left were as yellow as her dress and his whiskers were stained with tobacco juice.
Thea did not appear adversely affected. The hand not holding the parasol moved with animation as she spoke. "It's so large. The engine must be huge. Could I see it, do you suppose?"
"Passengers are not allowed in the engine room." He knew even as he spoke the words that she would attempt to find some way around them.
She raised her gaze to meet his. "Hello, Mr. Drake. Isn't there any way you could make one small exception? After all, the first mate allowed a group from shore to see the engine."
He would ask the captain to talk to the first mate later. He didn't like the thought of strangers poking about the engine when it was in a state of disrepair. That engine had to help carry them back to England in record time.
Thea went on in a persuasive tone, "I should so like to see it, and the machinery attached to the paddles. Do your paddles collapse for swifter sailing like the Savannah's?"
"Yes."
Her eyes lit with interest. "How does the engine work? Do you keep the boiler stoked at all times? What caused it to blow? What type of wood are the paddles made from?"
She stopped speaking when the sailors laughed, her skin going pink.
Drake moved forward and took her arm. "I would be pleased to answer your questions over dinner this evening, but right now I must see to the engine repair."
She bit her lip, her hesitation unmistakable. "Are we to have dinner together then?"
