Gentle Rogue (6 page)
He didn’t say a word to her, at least not until they’d left the village behind. She’d tried to get some speed out of her animal, the urge to be miles away as quickly as possible gnawing at her, but the sorry creature wouldn’t oblige. And a fast walk gave Mac plenty of time to study her and see through her calm facade. One thing about Mac, he had an annoying habit of being blunt when you least wanted bluntness.
“Why are ye no’ crying, lass?”
She thought about ignoring him. He wouldn’t press her if she did. But what was rolling around inside her needed letting out.
“I’m too angry right now. That double-dammed scoundrel must have married that woman on his very first docking, long before the war ended. No wonder he became pro-British. He was converted through marriage!”
“Aye, that’s possible. Possible, too, was he saw
what he liked and had some, and wasna caught fer it until his second docking.”
“What’s it matter when or why? All this time I’ve been sitting at home pining over him, he’s been married and making children, having just a swell-dandy time!”
Mac snorted. “Ye’ve wasted time, all right, but ye were never pining away.”
She sniffed at his lack of understanding. “I loved him, Mac.”
“Ye loved the idea of having him fer yer own, bonny lad that he was, a child’s fancy ye should’ve outgrown. Were ye less loyal, and less stubborn, ye’d have let go of yer fool’s dream long ago.”
“That’s not—”
“Dinna interrupt me till I’ve finished. Did ye love him true, ye’d be crying now and angry after, no’ the other way around.”
“I’m crying inside,” she said stiffly. “You just can’t see it.”
“Well, I thank ye fer sparing me, I surely do. Never could abide a female’s tears.”
She gave him a fulminating glare. “You men are all alike. You’re about as sensitive as a…a brick wall!”
“If ye’re looking fer sympathy, ye willna get it from me, lass. If ye’ll recall, I advised ye tae forget about that mon more’n four years ago. I also recall telling ye that ye’d be regretting coming here, and no’ just when yer brothers get ahold of ye. So what has yer stubbornness got ye this time?”
“Disillusionment, humiliation, heartache—”
“Delusion—”
“
Why
are you determined to make me madder than I am?” she snapped hotly.
“Self-preservation, hinny. I told ye, I canna abide tears. And as long as ye’re yelling at me, ye willna be weeping on my shoulder…Och, now, dinna do that, Georgie lass,” he said as her face began to crumble. But the tears started in earnest, and all Mac could do was stop their horses and hold out his arms to her.
Georgina leaped across the short space and curled into his lap. But she wasn’t content to just have a good cry on a caring shoulder. There was still a lot of anger inside that came out in a lot of wailing.
“Those beautiful children should have been mine, Mac!”
“Ye’ll have yer own bairns, lots of them.”
“No I won’t. I’m getting too old.”
“Aye, all of twenty-two.” He nodded sagely, fighting to keep from snorting. “That’s mighty auld.”
She paused to scowl at him. “You picked a fine time to start agreeing with me.”
Both red brows went up in feigned surprise. “Did I now?”
Georgina sniffed, and then wailed again, “Oh, why couldn’t that woman have come in a mere minute sooner, before I made such a double-damned fool of myself telling that cur I’d still have him?”
“Sae he’s a cur now, is he?”
“The lowest, vilest—”
“I get yer drift, hinny, but it’s glad ye should be ye said all ye did tae him, a fine revenge, I’m thinking, if ye wanted revenge.”
“Is that some kind of male logic too complicated
for the female mind? I didn’t get revenge, I got humiliated.”
“Nae, ye showed the mon what he lost in forsaking ye, a lass he dinna recognize, she’s sae bonny now, and his own ship tae command, which he’s long wanted. He’s likely kicking his own arse right about now, and it’s sure as he did wrong by ye that he’ll be regretting what he lost fer many a year.”
“The ship maybe, but not me. He’s got a job he’s proud of, beautiful children, a lovely wife—”
“Lovely, aye, but she’s no’ Georgina Anderson, owner of the
Amphitrite
, part owner of the Skylark Line, though the puir lass has nae say in the running of that, just an equal share in the profits,
and
they say she’s the bonniest lass on the eastern seaboard.”
“Is that all?”
“Ye dinna sound verra impressed.”
“I’m not. That girl might be a bonny lass now, but she wasn’t always, and what good are her fair looks when she’s wasted the best years of her life.” A rude sound interrupted her, but she chose to ignore it. “And she might have money of her own, a right comfortable amount, but just now she doesn’t even have enough to buy her passage home. Her looks and means don’t change the fact that she’s a fool, and stupid, and gullible, an ill judge of character, and not very smart, and—”
“Ye’re repeating yerself. Stupid and not very smart—”
“Don’t interrupt.”
“I will when all ye’re doing is blathering. Now yer tears have stopped. Start looking on the bright side.”
“There isn’t one.”
“Aye, there is. Ye wouldna have been happy wi’ such a low, vile…cur, was it?”
Her lip trembled a little trying to smile, but not quite making it. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Mac, but it’s not helping with all that I’m feeling right now. I just want to go home, and hope to God I never meet another Englishman with their oh-so-proper speech, their blasted unshakable composure, their faithless sons.”
“I hate tae be the one tae enlighten ye, hinny, but every country has its faithless sons.”
“Every country has its brick walls, too, but I wouldn’t marry one.”
“Marry a…Now ye’re blathering again, and what’s this fixation ye’re having wi’ brick walls, I’d like tae know?”
“Just take me home, Mac. Find us a ship, any ship. It doesn’t have to be an American vessel as long as it’s sailing for our part of the world and leaving soon, today preferably. You can use my jade ring to buy the passage.”
“Are ye daft, lass? Yer father gave ye that ring, brought it all the way from—”
“I don’t care, Mac,” she insisted, and she was now wearing the stubborn look he was beginning to really dread seeing. “Unless you’re willing to turn thief and steal the money, which I know you’re not, it’s the only thing we have that will buy us passage. I’m not willing to wait until it’s earned, I promise you. And besides, the ring can always be bought back when we get home.”
“It’s just this quickly ye decided tae come here,
lass. Ye’re supposed tae learn from yer mistakes, no jump right in tae making the same ones.”
“If you’re preaching patience, you can forget it. I’ve had six years of patience, and
that
was my biggest mistake. I intend to practice impatience from now on.”
“Georgie…” he began warningly.
“Why are you arguing with me? Until we sail, you’re going to have a weeping woman on your hands. I thought you couldn’t abide female tears?”
Female stubbornness was far worse, Mac decided, so he gave up gracefully with a sigh. “When ye put it that way…”
A
skyscape of sailless masts didn’t guarantee there would be at least one ship, out of so many, sailing for America in the near future. You would think it would. You might even consider it a sure bet. Georgina would have lost the wager if she had thought to make it.
Most of the ships that had come in with theirs last month had long since departed for other ports. Discounting those ships that refused to take on passengers, there were several American vessels still remaining, but none anticipated a return to her home port before next year, too long a voyage for the newly impatient Georgina. And the one ship that
was
scheduled to sail directly for New York, which was close enough to Bridgeport to be ideal, wasn’t sailing anytime soon, according to her first mate. Her captain apparently was courting some English miss and had sworn he wouldn’t set sail until he was married. Which was just what Georgina needed to hear to make her rip up two dresses and toss the chamber pot out the window.
She wanted to leave England so badly, she was already considering an eight- to ten-month voyage on one of the American ships scheduled to depart within the week, and this after only a few days of trying to find passage. When she told Mac that on the third
morning, he came back a few hours later with the names of three English vessels departing the next week. He hadn’t mentioned them sooner because he had figured she would discount them out-of-hand simply because they were English and crewed entirely by Englishmen, and escaping all things English was just as important to her right now as getting home was. And discount them is exactly what she did, and quite rudely, too. It was then that Mac hesitantly mentioned an alternative she hadn’t considered.
“There be a ship sailing wi’ the morning tide. She willna take on passengers, but she’s needing a bo’s’n…and a cabin boy.”
Georgina’s eyes widened with interest. “You mean work our way home?”
“It was a thought, better’n spending half a year or more at sea wi’ a lass
practicing impatience
.”
Georgina chuckled at the emphasis he put on that, accompanied with rolling eyes. It was the first thing she’d found amusing since she discovered Malcolm’s betrayal.
“Maybe I’ll do less practicing once I’m on my way home. Oh, Mac, I think it’s a wonderful idea,” she said with sudden enthusiasm. “Is it an American ship? Is she big? Where’s she bound for?”
“Slow down, lass, she’s no’ what ye think. She’s the
Maiden Anne
out of the West Indies, three-masted and spanking clean. A real beauty. But she has the look of a refitted warship still heavily armed, though she’s privately owned.”
“A West Indies merchantman would need to be well armed if she frequents those pirate-infested wa
ters. All of our Skylark ships that sail the Caribbean are, and yet they’re still occasionally attacked.”
“True enough,” he agreed. “But the
Maiden Anne
isna a trader, at least no’ this voyage. She willna be carrying cargo, just ballast.”
“A captain who can sail without making any profit whatsoever?” Georgina teased, knowing how that fact alone would annoy a man who had sailed thirty-five years on merchantmen. “He must be a pirate.”
Mac snorted. “He’s a mon sails on his whims, going wherever the mood takes him, sae says his crew-mon.”
“The captain’s the owner then, and rich enough to keep a ship just for pleasure?”
“Sae it seems,” he said in disgust.
Georgina grinned. “I know how that concept pains you, but it isn’t unique by any means. And what’s the difference if she’s carrying a cargo or not, as long as she gets us home?”
“Aye, well, that’s another thing. It’s Jamaica she’s bound fer, no’ America.”
“Jamaica?” Some of Georgina’s pleasure in finding a ship dimmed, but only for a moment. “But Skylark has offices in Jamaica. And isn’t it the third port on Thomas’s schedule? We could conceivably arrive there before he departs again, and if not, Skylark has other ships that put in to Jamaica frequently, including Boyd’s and Drew’s ships, not to mention my own.” She was grinning again. “At the most we’re talking only a few more weeks’ delay in getting home. That’s better than half a year, and certainly better than staying here another day.”
“I dinna know, lass. The more I think on it, the more I’m thinking I shouldna have mentioned it.”
“And the more I think on it, the more I like the idea. Come on, Mac, it’s the perfect solution.”
“But ye’ll have tae work,” he reminded her. “Ye’ll have tae run the captain’s messages, bring his meals, clean his cabin, and whatever else he requires. Ye’ll be kept right busy.”
“So?” she challenged. “Are you going to tell me you don’t think I’m capable of such simple tasks, when I’ve scrubbed decks, cleaned cannons, scraped hulls, climbed rigging—”
“That were years ago, lass, afore ye started looking like the wee lady ye are now. Yer father and brothers indulged ye, letting ye climb all over their ships when in port, learning things ye had nae business learning. But this be working and living alongside men who dinna know ye, and who canna know ye. The job isna fer a lass, and it isna a lass ye can be if ye take it.”
“I didn’t miss that point, Mac. So my dresses will have to be left behind. Certain assumptions are automatic when breeches are worn, as we found out. Put a boy in a dress and you see an ugly girl, a girl in breeches and you have a pretty boy. And after all, I did right well that night—”
“Afore ye opened yer mouth or looked anyone in the eye,” he cut in to remind her sternly. “Yer disguise dinna last beyond that.”
“Because I was trying to pass for a man, which wasn’t very smart now that I think of it, not with this face. All right.” She stopped him from interrupting again. “So you tried to tell me and I wouldn’t listen.
Don’t belabor the point. This is entirely different, and you know it. A boy can have delicate features. They often do. And with my height and slimness, timbre of voice and”—she looked down at her chest—“some tight binding, I can easily pass for a boy of nine or ten.”
She got a disgusted look for that assumption. “Yer intelligence will give ye away.”
“All right, so a brilliant twelve-year-old who’s slow in maturing.” And then quite firmly, “I can do it, Mac. If you didn’t think I could, you wouldn’t have considered it.”
“I mun have been daft, I surely was, but we both ken who be responsible fer
that
.”
“Now, now,” she chided, grinning. “I’m only one wee lass, soon to be one wee laddie. How difficult can I be?” He made a
very
rude sound. “Well, look at it this way. The sooner I get home, the sooner you can wash your hands of me.”
This time a mere grunt. “That’s another thing. Ye’d have tae keep up the pretense fer a month or more. That’s a long time tae be finding a private spot tae tend nature’s calls, when a mon can just stand wi’ the wind at his back and—”