Becoming Lady Lockwood (7 page)

William stood on the upper
deck as he did every day, supervising the sailors and officers as they performed their duties. But he found that as the time went on, more and more often his eyes strayed toward Amelia. She sat with the sailmaker and his mates upon the foredeck as they showed her how to attach ropes to the sails. He knew the knots were quite complicated, and even from this distance, he saw her face set in concentration.

It seemed that in the three weeks she had been on the ship, he had noticed she’d been involved with nearly every task aboard.

When he’d asked Slushy about the variety of dishes that came out of the galley on nearly a daily basis, the cook confessed that Amelia had shown him some new recipes while she spent many mornings assisting him. William had heard from Dr. Spinner that she regularly aided him in the infirmary and also that she had from time to time mended clothing and acted as scribe for sailors who did not possess the education to write letters themselves.

He clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth in front of the rail, watching Sidney and a group of lieutenants as they led marines in a bayonet exercise. The soldiers were definitely improving, as were the sailors with their battle drills.

His mind returned to Amelia. Sidney and Riley both spoke of her as if she walked upon water, and each jumped at any chance to stroll the decks with her in the evenings. William had often seen her chatting with Mr. Wheeler or standing beside him on Sunday mornings as the entire crew turned out to hear the captain read from the Bible and narrate the Articles of War.

He’d seen her more than once as Sidney or another lieutenant had conducted weapons training or timed the men as they climbed up and down the riggings. She was always cheering or complimenting them on their progress. There was possibly no greater incentive for any of the sailors to perform than that of her smile. It was as if she held nothing back in her expression.

The women he knew in England were trained to be demure and only occasionally raised the corners of their lips in a slightly pleasant manner. Amelia’s smile not only lit up her face but elevated every person around her. Men worked harder, acted friendlier, and were in greater spirits when she was near. She was easy and pleasant and open. In this respect she was unlike the young ladies of his acquaintance in London, who strove to portray a perfect façade. But Amelia was still refined and ladylike. Her manners left nothing to censure—although he had noticed that she had adopted the habit of walking on bare feet. Truly, he’d been unable to get the image of her dainty pink toes out of his mind since he’d chanced to glimpse them in his sitting room.

William walked back to the rail and surveyed the main deck again. He himself looked forward to the short charting lessons they had each Friday after he had overseen the ship’s discipline. In fact, it was the bright spot of his week. Amelia was attentive and interested and asked thoughtful questions. There were quite a few junior officers who could take a page out of her book when it came to applying themselves to their studies. For her, learning to chart was the ultimate in pointless causes. It was information she would never use, and it was difficult and time-consuming. What did she hope to gain from such an exercise? In William’s case, he had to admit that he simply enjoyed spending time with her. Was it the same for Amelia?

As he watched, he saw one of the sailors say something to her and then heard her laughter. For someone who made a life off embezzling other people’s family fortunes, she had a lovely laugh. Anyone within hearing couldn’t help but smile.

It was difficult for him to reconcile this intelligent woman with the fraudulent colonist he’d envisioned in Jamaica. If she managed to charm the magistrate as easily as she had his crew, William would have a difficult time discrediting her and her claim to his brother’s jointure. Perhaps it was time to get to know Miss Becket a little better; surely it would help him in his case against her and her father.

He strode down the gangway and onto the main deck. The group around the sail didn’t see him approach, and he watched their interactions for a moment.

Amelia had finished tying a knot and was showing it to one of the sailors.

“Nearly there, miss. But ya see this end needs to go around and through, or else—” The man speaking glanced up, noticed William, instantly stood to attention, and saluted. The men around him did the same. Tobias took Amelia by the hand and helped her rise to stand with the others.

“As you were, men,” William said. “If you don’t mind, Miss Becket, I was hoping to have a private word with you.”

“Of course, Captain.” She stepped carefully over the ropes that spread over the planks of the deck, and when she reached William, she rested her hand upon his offered arm.

They strolled around the edge of the deck in silence until William finally spoke. “Miss Becket, I am afraid I have been amiss in my duty toward you.”

“And how so, Captain?”

“In the time we have been at sea, I have never once invited you to dine in my cabin.”

Was it his imagination, or did her fingers tighten on his arm? “I hoped you might join Mr. Fletcher and me for supper tomorrow evening.” He felt her hand relax slightly and wondered if the mention of Sidney joining them for dinner was a relief to her. The spark of jealousy this idea produced surprised him.

“I would be delighted to take supper with you tomorrow.”

“Shall we say the end of the first dogwatch—four bells?”

“Certainly, Captain.”

***

The next evening, William nodded to his steward when he heard a knock on the door—precisely on time as the ship’s bell rang four times.

The steward opened the door, and Amelia entered wearing a lavender gown with a gray floral design and lace around her neck and sleeves. Her appearance surprised him, as he had only seen her in black mourning dresses. He thought she looked quite lovely and resolved to tell her so.

“You look quite lovely,” Sidney said, and William shut his own mouth before making a fool of himself.

“It’s not every day one gets invited to supper with the captain.” She smiled at Sidney and then turned her gaze to meet William’s. He noticed that the gray accents on her dress changed her eyes to the color of the sea beneath a cloudy sky. The effect of a different shade of gown was startling, and William found himself still pondering on it when Sidney cleared his throat.

“Captain, if you’d like we can adjourn to the table?”

He glanced at Sidney, who was watching him with a grin. William pulled his mind to the matter at hand, remembering his duty as host. “Of course. If you please, Miss Becket.” He led her toward the table and pulled a chair out for her. As she sat, he caught Sidney’s glance and the slight raise of his eyebrows. William scowled back at him, which only made Sidney’s smile widen.

Once they were seated and the steward had served them, William resolved to take control of the supper and stop acting like such a fool.

But before he had a chance to speak, Sidney once again captured Amelia’s attention. “And how do you like your journey thus far, Amelia?”

Did he call her
Amelia?

She set her goblet down and dabbed her napkin on her lips before she spoke. “I have enjoyed it quite a lot, actually. More than I would have guessed.”

“Splendid,” Sidney said.

“And, Captain,” she said, turning to him, “I assume this voyage is to be your last, as you will need to replace your brother as the earl. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be sorry to leave the sea?”

William felt a pang in his chest whenever he allowed himself to dwell on his inevitable departure from his ship, and this time was no exception. He cleared his throat. “I shall indeed miss my life at sea.”

“I am truly sorry, sir,” she said, and for a moment he was taken aback by the compassion in her eyes. “But you will make a good earl.”

“I am inclined to disagree with you, as I know nothing about being an earl or the administration of an estate. The entire concept is foreign to me.”

“Nonsense.” Amelia laughed. “You are an expert in the management of people. I have seen for myself the way you run this ship.”

“I hardly think it is the same thing.”

“It is precisely the same thing. It is difficult to strike a balance between appearing too fearful or too friendly to those in your employ, but once it is achieved, their respect is won. It is a skill my grandfather often pointed out to me. Years ago, the steward at the plantation was harsh with the workers and unpredictable with his punishments. They were afraid and nervous, and they spoke about him behind his back. Since they had no respect for him, the entire plantation suffered. But when my grandfather replaced him with a new steward, who was firm but kind, the steward’s fairness and genuine concern for the workers earned their trust. They worked harder because they wished to please him.” Her gaze focused on William, and he felt his chest tighten at the approval he saw reflected in her blue eyes.

“Sir, you inspire the same loyalty on the ship. Slushy and the doctor are devoted to you because of the way you’ve treated them. Once Riley learned that his wound was similar to yours, he was no longer afraid of receiving stitches because of his admiration of you. Such a talent of inspiring people is rare and will make you a fine earl.”

William listened to her, astonished. Did she truly feel this way? He stuttered, searching for words that would convey how much such a thing meant and finally settled upon, “I thank you, miss. Your words are very . . . generous.”

He remembered the fork that he held in his hand and bit down on the piece of chicken that had not quite made it to his mouth while he’d been listening to Amelia.

“And the captain will look resplendent in his white wig when he attends the House of Lords—we mustn’t forget that,” Sidney said, laughing.

Amelia laughed with him. “Yes, he will look very handsome indeed.”

As she said this, William caught her eye and she looked away quickly, but not before he noticed her cheeks coloring. Sidney must have noticed it too because he was swift to change the subject.

“Is it difficult to manage the entire plantation with your father gone so often, Amelia?”

There it is again. Why is he calling her by her given name?

“It is difficult, certainly, but my father has nothing to do with it. The plantation was my mother’s, and she bequeathed it to me upon her passing. My father has only come to Jamaica a few times. More often when I was younger, but since my mother’s death when I was ten, he’s visited but twice. Once to attempt to figure out a way to discount my inheritance and take control of the plantation—in which effort he was unsuccessful—and the other to . . . encourage me to sign the marriage documents attaching me to your brother, Captain.”

“And so the plantation is yours, Miss Becket?” William asked.

“Yes. According to my mother’s solicitor, my father was quite surprised when he discovered this fact. My grandfather did not have a high opinion of my father and did everything in his power to keep the property out of his hands. Although, I suppose that for a time it belonged to your brother while he was my husband, until he passed away.”

William and Sidney exchanged a glance, which Amelia did not fail to see.

“You had assumed that I married your brother because my own financial situation left much to be desired, did you not, Captain? I assure you that was not my design in signing the marriage documents, though I cannot speak to my father’s intentions.”

“Then what was your design, Miss Becket?” He had not imagined there would be other factors that might induce a woman into matrimony.

“Being a married woman was a relief. I was suddenly freed from the constrictions society places upon a single young lady. I would never have been able to travel on your ship without a chaperone, Captain, if I was not a widow. And business dealings became much simpler when merchants were no longer dealing with a young, unattached girl.

“I mean no disrespect to your brother, Captain. Your argument over the jointure is between you and my father. I have no desire for the money, for a husband, or to live in England. From what I know of it, I will most definitely never belong to the society of London. Once the business with the solicitor is concluded, I intend to be upon the next ship sailing west.”

Amelia spread some butter on her bread. “And I am sorry I have monopolized the entire conversation. Captain, if I might ask, tell me what awaits the Earl of Lockwood when he returns home?”

“My mother and younger sister live at the manor,” William said, still thinking about Amelia’s words. If the plantation was hers alone, why would her father attach her to Lawrence? For his title?
Is she manipulating me? Is she being manipulated by her father?

“And they will no doubt be thrilled to have you home,” Sidney said.

“Oh, I should have loved to have a sister,” Amelia said. “What is her name?”

“Emma. She is a few months shy of eighteen. Probably near to your own age.”

“And tell me about her,” Amelia said. William noticed she did not make any comment in regard to her age, which, from his brother’s marriage document, he knew would be twenty-one years at the end of the month.

“I have been at sea since Emma was but a few months old and have only spent time with her a few weeks out of the year. I regret that I do not know her well enough to describe her properly.”

“She is lovely, Amelia. She looks nothing like her brother,” Sidney said.

William sighed and set his fork down loudly. Amelia giggled.

Sidney continued, managing to speak with his infuriating grin. “On the contrary, her hair is light, and her eyes are blue. She speaks softly and is quiet and very reserved, but her laugh is delightful, if one is able to coax it into the open. She has a sharp mind and a subtle wit that make her a joy to talk to.”

Both Amelia and William stared at him, and he shrugged and smiled. “Somebody needed to spend time with your mother and sister while you brooded about your family estate, examining ledgers and arguing with your brother.”