ThroughTheMistsOfTime_TBarnett-eBook

Home > Other > ThroughTheMistsOfTime_TBarnett-eBook > Page 4
ThroughTheMistsOfTime_TBarnett-eBook Page 4

by Barnett, Teri


  Valerie gave the servant a quick hug.

  Lucy puffed herself up, straightening her crisp white apron. “What was that fuss all about?”

  “For asking me what I thought. I do believe it’s the first time you ever did.” Beaming, Valerie turned so Lucy could hook the pendant around her neck.

  Next, she took a pair of matching earrings from the box and clipped one to each earlobe. “I can see ye’ll be havin’ yer hands full with the young swains this night.” Lucy smiled and handed Valerie her best cane, the ebony one with the carved silver grip.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t use this cane. I wouldn’t want it to get damaged.” Valerie reached for her old cane leaning against the bureau. Thomas may wonder why she had such a nice cane for a temporary injury.

  “Nonsense. Ye’re much too dressy to be carryin’ that old thing. Besides, ye’ll be needin’ all the help ye can get to chase away the hordes of men. They’ll all be a-courtin’ ye before the evenin’s over. Providin’ ye mind yer tongue, that is,” Lucy said as she began to straighten the cabin. “Gentlemen don’t take kindly to opinionated women.”

  Valerie smiled as the image of dozens of men standing in line to speak with her filled her mind. She forgot about the cane as a rush of anticipation ran through her with the memory of Thomas Smythe’s lips pressed against her fingers. Of course, it didn’t matter how many men were around her tonight, Thomas was the only one she was interested in. She twirled the cane in her hand. “We shall see, Lucy. We shall see.”

  The Brooks family made their way single-file down the narrow, wood-paneled corridor leading from their quarters to the main reception area below deck. Frederick was in the lead, followed by Jacqueline, then Valerie, with Reggie skipping along behind them all.

  “Hurry up!” Reggie demanded. “I’m starving!” He shoved at Valerie’s backside, pushing her into their mother.

  “Stop it, Reggie. You’ll knock us all down,” Jacqueline scolded. “It’s hard enough to maneuver through this narrow passage with the sway of the ship let alone you causing more trouble.”

  Valerie swung her skirts behind her, running the stiff steel crinoline into Reggie’s shin. He fell flat on his bottom and Valerie giggled. “Lizard.”

  Reggie jumped up and started for Valerie just as they arrived at the grand salon. At the sight of the massive room, he froze in his tracks, as did they all.

  Here, the narrow passage opened into a large expanse, opulently furnished with upholstered banquettes and heavy velvet curtains. Valerie’s gaze absorbed each and every detail. The walls were painted a streaked dark red overlaid with fantasy scenes of King Neptune and his court. Mermaids and dolphins in shimmery shades of green and gold seemed to float right off the wall and into the room itself. She took a step forward and ran her hand along the back of one of the sea-blue, tapestry-covered chairs wrapped around a support column and cleverly arranged into small conversation groups, from one end of the vast salon to the other.

  Reggie ran over to one of the chairs and all but leaped onto it, bouncing on the firm cushion.

  “Here now, Reg. Take it easy son,” Frederick admonished. “You’ll crash the seat right through to the hull.”

  “Do you really think I could, Papa?” Reggie asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He scrambled off the chair and gripped its arms to heft himself onto the seat again. “Hey! This chair doesn’t move.” He tugged at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Of course, it doesn’t move. The seating is fastened in place in case of rocky waters or a storm,” his father explained.

  Valerie wandered to one of the murals, her cane thumping softly against the carpeted deck. She studied the representation of the birth of Venus, a typical rendering of the maid arriving on a mollusk shell, escorted from the sea by several angels.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” The deep voice startled her, making her breath catch.

  Valerie turned and smiled at the picture of masculine elegance standing before her. The fine, white-linen shirt and creamy ascot was striking against the crisp, black suit. “Yes, it is. Good evening, Mr. Smythe.”

  Thomas inclined his head, a grin on his lips. For a brief moment, he reminded Valerie of a cat who was about to corner its prey, then she shook the picture from her mind, her musings interrupted by her father’s voice.

  “Good evening, David, old man.”

  Valerie turned her attention to the gentleman Frederick was greeting. He looked exactly like an older version of Thomas.

  “There’s my father,” Thomas said. “Come, I’ll introduce you.” Valerie slipped her gloved hand around his arm as he led her toward the gathering. He leaned near her as they walked. “I must say I’m grateful to Father for forcing me on this trip. If I hadn’t come, I never would have met you.”

  A blush warmed Valerie’s cheeks. Never in her life had a man paid such close attention to her or said something so daring.

  “Valerie, come here, child,” her father bade, smiling. “I’d like you to meet someone.” Frederick drew Valerie to his side. “Sir David, this is my lovely daughter, Valerie.”

  Valerie curtsied as best she could, catching a slight frown on the elder Smythe’s face as she did.

  “That’s not really necessary, young lady. I can see it takes a great deal of effort for you.”

  She froze, embarrassed he would call attention to her malady, then straightened. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir David,” she offered with a tight smile.

  He nodded. “I see you’ve already met my son,” he observed. “Have you two been properly introduced or did he simply force his company on you?”

  “Actually, Sir David, Papa sent him to my aide earlier today when I required assistance on the stairwell.”

  “Well, that’s just like him,” the elder Smythe murmured. “A perfect knight in shining armor.”

  Valerie was about to agree when a man wearing a short white jacket entered the salon. He cleared his throat loudly and announced, “Dinner is served.”

  There weren’t many passengers on the ship, as its main purpose was to carry cargo from England to China, but the ones who were there crowded toward the dining room. Smythe caught his son’s arm, then motioned for Frederick and his family to go ahead without them. “We’ll catch up with you in a moment,” he explained. Frederick nodded and tucked Valerie’s arm into his as he led her into the dining room.

  Valerie peeked over her shoulder to catch one more glimpse of Thomas and smiled as her eyes met his.

  As soon as the Brooks were out of sight, Smythe leaned toward his son. “See here, boy. I’ll not have you spoiling this business deal by compromising Brooks’ daughter. This loan is too important to the expedition.”

  Thomas looked at his father, feigning innocence. “Be assured, Father, I haven’t a clue as to what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, you know perfectly well what I’m talking about. I won’t have a repeat of that scene you caused back in Liverpool after your dalliance with the Count’s girl. Besides,” he began, his eyes following Valerie’s painful trek to the dining room, “the girl’s got something wrong with her.”

  Thomas rolled his eyes. “It’s only a sprain. Do you really think I’d waste my time on a cripple?” His eyes met his father’s. “You taught me better than that.”

  Smythe’s face hardened. “I suppose you are much too vain to be seen with a permanently damaged woman. Mark my words, though, you lose this loan for me because of your behavior and I’ll take the money out of your sorry hide.”

  Chapter 7

  Valerie was utterly amazed by the ingenuity of the shipbuilders as she entered the dining room. Wide velvet covered booths were built into both sides of the clipper under a double row of narrow windows. In place between them were dining tables long enough to seat eight to ten people. Anchored to the table legs and opposite the booth was an upholstered bench, all fas
tened neatly in place in case of a choppy crossing. Over the tables hung heavy, dark-oak racks designed to hold wine glasses and bottles. Every last detail of the room, down to the pristine-white tablecloths, assured a satisfying meal, no matter the weather.

  Frederick stopped one of the waiters. “We’re to sit at the captain’s table this evening. Can you point us in the right direction?”

  “Certainly, sir. It’s the large one at the other end of the room.”

  “Come along, family.” Frederick motioned with a wave of his hand. “The table’s over here.” He straightened his jacket and squared his shoulders proudly as he led his brood past the other passengers.

  “What’s Papa doing?” Valerie whispered to her mother. “He acts as if he’s in command of Her Majesty’s navy.”

  Jacqueline chuckled “Frederick is just showing pride in his family.” She put her hand on Valerie’s arm. “Tell me, Val, was the fair-haired young man you were speaking to the same gentleman who came to your assistance?”

  Valerie nodded, a smile curving her lips. “What did you think of him? Wasn’t he everything I said he was? Why, even his own father called him a knight in shining armor.”

  “Indeed, he did…” Jacqueline frowned. “I’ve noticed there are plenty of young men on board, though. Perhaps your father can arrange for you to meet another gentleman?”

  “I don’t think that would be appropriate, Mr. Smythe might be put out if other men show me any attention.”

  “Valerie, don’t you think—”

  “Good evening, ladies,” Captain Marcus interrupted. “So happy you could join me this evening.”

  The steward peered out from behind the captain, his long gray hair tucked neatly into a queue. “Where is that lovely Lucy of yours? Will she be joining us?”

  “I’m sorry, Johnny,” Jacqueline replied. “Lucy is dining in the kitchen with the staff.”

  “Well, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll go see to her comfort.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Jacqueline offered as the Captain helped her to a chair.

  Johnny smiled, turned to the captain and saluted him, then executed a smart turn and marched out of the dining room

  The captain harrumphed as he seated Valerie a few seats away from her mother. “Well, it appears my steward is smitten with your maid.” He motioned to Frederick. “Sir Frederick, won’t you sit next to me? I’ve reserved the seat on the other side for Sir David. I understand you two are business acquaintances?”

  “We are. Reggie here can sit on my right if you don’t mind. I think it’s time for him to start learning a bit about the banking trade, so he can follow in his father’s footsteps one day.” Frederick smiled and rumpled Reggie’s hair as the boy took his seat.

  “Of course, of course.” The captain caught sight of Thomas and his father. “Over here, gentlemen,” he gestured as they approached. “Young Mr. Smythe, I’d like you to seat yourself next to this lovely young lady, if you don’t mind.”

  Thomas smiled at Valerie. “I’d be honored.”

  “And you, Sir David, please take the seat at my left.” The captain claimed his seat between Frederick and David. “There, now.” He scanned the faces at the table. “Everyone’s hungry, I pray?”

  “Yes, sir!” Reggie answered enthusiastically. “I’m always hungry.” He leaned back in the booth with a grin, satisfied he’d made his presence known to all. He caught Valerie looking at him, stuck his tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes then turned her attention to Thomas.

  “So, will you be visiting Pompeii with us, Mr. Smythe?” Valerie asked as the server poured her a glass of red Bordeaux. She took a small sip of the vintage and coughed, not accustomed to the wine. She held her napkin to her mouth, then wiped the tear from her eye. “Excuse me, it must have gone down the wrong way.”

  “No excuse needed.” He leaned forward and whispered, “The tear in your eye makes their green depths glimmer with a vibrancy to rival the emerald you’re wearing.”

  In the center of the table, the server placed a tureen of seafood chowder. He dipped a silver ladle into the thick, creamy soup and, starting with the ladies, offered each a half-bowl full. After everyone was served, Reggie peered into his bowl. “How come it’s not filled all the way to the top?”

  “If we happened to hit choppy waters, and your bowl was filled to the brim, it would spill all over you,” the captain explained with a wink.

  Reggie scrunched his eyes in thought. Then, with a satisfied nod, he scooped up some soup and slurped it off the spoon, loudly smacking his lips.

  “Really, Reggie,” Jacqueline scolded. “Show your manners, son.”

  Reggie grinned—a chunk of potato caught in the space previously occupied by one of his front teeth. “Sorry, Mama.”

  Once everyone was finished, the server cleared the table and served the main course consisting of a three-quarter leg of mutton and beefsteak pie along with mustard potatoes, creamed onions, and sliced loaves of steaming hot bread. The aromas wafted around them.

  “It—looks—wonderful,” Jacqueline whispered, her face paling.

  “Are you all right, Mama?” Valerie asked.

  Jacqueline lifted a hand to her mouth. “I think I’ll be fine in a moment. Just a touch of mal de mer. That’s all.”

  “Perhaps you should lie down, dear,” Frederick offered. “I can have Lucy bring you a plate later. You may feel like eating after you’ve had a nap.”

  “Well, if you wouldn’t mind?” She glanced around the table.

  “Of course, we don’t mind,” Captain Marcus said. “I’ll have one of my stewards escort you.” He gestured to one of his men. “Sea sickness is, unfortunately, a common occurrence among our passengers. You go on ahead and I’ll personally make sure your maid gets you a plate.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I do appreciate your gracious hospitality.” Jacqueline stood and excused herself from the table, but not before sending a “behave yourself” glance Valerie’s way.

  “It’ll be good to be back in Italy. I so enjoy the countryside,” David Smythe began. “The area around the site is spectacular.”

  “Do you travel to Italy often?” Valerie asked, forgetting her dinner in favor of information concerning their destination.

  “Not nearly enough. For the time being, I only go when necessary to visit the excavation. There’s a gentleman in charge there whom I keep in contact with, Fiorelli’s his name,” Smythe explained. “Fascinating chap. Two years ago, he devised a clever method of preserving the discovered remains of the ancient peoples who perished in the eruption.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Valerie interjected. “How in the world could someone do that?” She looked at everyone. “After all, the eruption occurred almost eighteen hundred years ago.”

  Smythe took a drink of wine. “I felt the same way until I saw it myself last year. During the digging, when the workers hit a hollow spot in the ground, a small opening is made, and plaster is poured into it. The next day, the volcanic ash is chipped away, usually revealing a perfect cast of the object that had once occupied the space under it—be it man or beast. Even casts of food and furnishings have been taken.” He shook his head. “The detail is so great, you can see the poor souls’ expressions as they lie dying, captured forever in a plaster statue.”

  Valerie leaned back into her chair. A chance to see what the Pompeiians looked like would be a tremendous opportunity for her education. Had they been tall? Did they have classic Roman features, as she had seen illustrated in books, or were they different? “Can you imagine what it would be like to have actually lived during the time before the eruption?”

  David chuckled and glanced at Frederick. “Your daughter has quite an appetite for knowledge, doesn’t she, Brooks?”

  “Yes, she has. The girl has always shown a keen interest in the antiquities and hopes to teach—�
��

  “Teaching?” David interrupted. “Frederick, my good man, certainly a man of your stature wouldn’t allow his child to work.”

  Frederick straightened. “It’s Valerie’s choice.”

  “Valerie’s choice?” David countered. “Well, I can see you’re much more modern in your thinking than I. If it were my daughter, I’d be busy finding a husband for her.”

  Valerie’s eyes darted back and forth between the men. She twisted her napkin under the table.

  Please don’t say anything, Papa. They don’t need to know the truth.

  Smythe wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned towards Frederick. “Besides, whoever said a female should be making her own choices? They just don’t have the capacity for serious thought.”

  “Now see here, David,” Frederick began, “there are obvious reasons at play as to why my daughter wishes to teach.”

  Valerie blanched. Dear Lord, he was going to spill the story about the accident and the doctors and her foot. She set her hands on the table and was about to push herself up to leave when Thomas touched his hand to hers.

  Once more the young man saved her from a fall—this time from grace. “I’m certain Miss Brooks can accomplish whatever she puts her mind to. Besides, we were enjoying our conversation.”

  Valerie let her breath out slowly and relaxed back in her seat.

  That was much too close.

  Papa might have explained everything about her right then and there. Thank goodness Sir David decided to change the subject. Perhaps if she left, they’d forget all about the conversation. “Papa, I’m feeling a bit under the weather, too. Would you mind if I excused myself?”

  “Certainly not, dear. Will you be all right?” he asked.

  “I’ll be fine in the morning. It’s just been a long day.” She placed her hands on the table for support but was assisted once more by Thomas who stood and moved her chair back.

 

‹ Prev