Authors: Sandy Raven
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance
Sarah held the gazes of both young ladies. “That was more adventure than I bargained for. I give you all my word, I’ll never do anything so imprudent and foolish again. I promise. Why, there were times I even feared for my life!”
“From savages, Aunt Sarah?” This was from ten-year-old Jonathan, Elise and Michael’s oldest son. Their youngest, Andrew, at six years of age, was likely back at the house with his nanny, as well as Ren and Lia’s youngest, four-year-old Christopher.
“No, Jonathan. It was the storms that nearly did us in. The one going to New York wasn’t nearly as frightening as the one coming back. I feared the boat capsizing several times!”
“Ah, that’s nothing. I can swim. It’s the savages I want to see. Did you see any at all?”
“Not a one, Jonathan. I’m sorry.”
“See, told you so,” fifteen-year-old Marcus said as he nudged his younger cousin. As Ren and Lia’s oldest, he designated himself the authority on all things. “New York is civilized, you dolt. If you want to see savages nowadays, you must go west and cross the Mississippi River. That’s where you’ll really see the wilds of North America,” he said with a certainty that only comes from being the eldest child in the family.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw that Ian and Ren had come closer to their group and were now in deep conversation with a race official. Ian came to her side and held her hand as he announced that after checking with the race steward and harbor master he could confirm what he and his crew suspected. They’d won.
Congratulations and huzzahs were said all around the dock, from the crewmen of
Revenge
to the crowd of strangers gathering on the dock. The winning purse, he said, was to be awarded in a ceremony one week from the day of their arrival. This was to allow all of the remaining boats time to return.
Sarah looked out just beyond the harbor toward the horizon and wondered how much farther Lucky was. When last she’d seen his flags, it was through Ian’s spyglass, and he was about an hour behind them. She said a quick, silent prayer of thanks that the crews of both ships would make it home safe and sound.
H
is Grace, the Duke of Caversham, came to stand by Ian’s side when he reached the dock. As he half-listened to the details the race steward said, an uneasy sensation settled over Ian. The portly man, a representative of the group of men sponsoring the Atlantic Cup Challenge, droned on, officially congratulating him on his safe return, then informed him of his time, and finally proclaimed him the winner of the first annual race. All the while, Ian felt his new brother-in-law simmered with unasked questions, and he knew why. His previously unmarried sister returned home in the company of a man not Lucky, and he wanted an explanation. Now.
Ian wasn’t going to argue with him. What was done was done. He hadn’t caused the predicament he found himself in, and even though he wasn’t born a gentleman in this country, he’d done the right thing and married her.
He smiled while several of the men from his ship joined him on the dock. Everyone clapped his back and shook his hand while his eyes searched the crowd forming around him for Sarah. He saw her blond curls, pulled back in a simple ribbon, as she spoke to her family. Her back was to him, and he wondered what she was saying, what the expression on her face was, and if she feared her brother.
He’d promised her he’d stand by her, that she wouldn’t have to face His Grace alone. He intended to keep that promise no matter what his new brother-in-law had to say regarding their marriage.
Ian took the first opportunity he could to step away from the crowd of well-wishers, and he returned to Sarah’s brother, the Duke of Caversham—a man several on his crew knew and respected outside of the man’s social realm, as His Grace had sailed for years before he married and settled with his wife and in his ducal duties.
Ian spoke first, hopefully the act would convey to the duke that he was in accord with what happened and was happy with the arrangement.
“She landed on my boat by accident the night before the race began. I knew nothing of her existence until after I’d rounded Anglesey, and she has been safe with me the entire time.”
“I thank you for caring for my sister, but….”
Ian interrupted him. “We married in New York harbor. I have the license and certificate.”
The duke, equal to him in height, though not in breadth, eyed him intently. “Was she willing?” he whispered.
Ian almost got the impression the older man would help his sister if she were unhappy with the situation, and he knew better than to lie to the man. “Not at first, but we didn’t give her a choice.” Ian turned his head and glanced her way again. Their gazes met. He smiled at his wife. “She balked a while, until she had to be reminded of a few things.”
“I take it that all is well now?” the duke asked.
“It is.” His new brother-in-law clapped him on the back. “Well then. I suppose congratulations are in order for this as well.”
“Thank you.” Ian turned to face the duke. “There are still things we need to work out. I was not prepared for a wife yet. You know I own no land, have no home except that ship out there, and am estranged from my grandfather whose title I will inherit.”
“Everything will work out in the end as long as you’re willing to listen and compromise,” His Grace said. “Always remember that. Listen and compromise.”
Ian agreed and watched as Sarah spoke with her nieces and nephews. The glimpse he’d had of her face, and knowing the way she usually carried herself, told him she was tired. He went to her side, the duke following him. He slipped in beside his wife and took her small, cold hand in his.
A group of his crewmen who waited closer to the bulkhead began to cheer, and Ian knew then his friend was coming into view. He leaned over and whispered to her, “You’re tired and cold.” He looked around for a place for her to sit and rest. The ducal coach stood nearby. “Would you like to rest in the coach a while? It could be forty minutes or more before he steps ashore.”
All of a sudden a ruckus arose among the sailors as they realized two boats were coming into view. Lucky’s colors were clearly visible on the first. The second was as yet indistinguishable. From their vantage on the wharf, and the distance and angle of the finish line, everyone knew both boats could easily have been in the second place position.
Ian squinted his eyes and within moments recognized the
Ann McKim
. God, he wanted one like her. Sleek and fast. That boat had arrived in New York after dark, some nine hours behind him. A part of Ian wondered how on earth she managed to recover the distance between them. The other part of him knew. She was a true Baltimore clipper. Made for speed. And it looked like she was about to take second place from Lucky’s grasp.
“It’s hard to tell, isn’t it?” Sarah moved to stand before him near the bulkhead, and Ian removed his coat and wrapped it around her to keep her warm as they all watched the two ships closely. “I see Lucky’s colors, but from here I can’t tell if he’s ahead or not.”
“He is, but just barely,” Ian assured everyone nearby. He had his hands over his eyes, shielding the sun as he squinted and watched the two boats near the buoy markers. The crowd with them grew silent. Then suddenly, a cheer rang out collectively. The sister to
Revenge
had crossed the finish line with what appeared barely a jib’s length between the two boats. Surely no race could ever end closer than that.
Sarah jumped up and down for joy, as did all of her younger relatives, while the Duchess and the Countess stood clapping next to their husbands. This was an awkward sensation, one Ian had never experienced before, as he hadn’t had the kind of family who showed support for his efforts.
He looked around at the crowd and recognized the two women he loved as mothers were nowhere around. Again. He knew if they’d been able to come, they would be here. So he stepped toward the duchess.
“Your Grace, how are my aunts? Are they well?”
“They are well, Mr. Ross-Mackeever,” the duchess replied, her green eyes growing sober with sympathy. “They are again at your grandfather’s bedside, as it seems he may be nearing his time.”
He choked back a laugh, and the duchess gave him a surprised look. “Your Grace, forgive me for saying what is sure to sound disrespectful regarding my grandfather’s condition, but he’s done this before, several times in fact. I’ll believe he’s dead when my aunts tell me they’ve seen his casket nailed shut with his body inside.”
“Far be in from me to say whether your grandfather is, or is not, deserving of your affection as I do not know the relationship you have with him,” the dark-haired duchess said for his ears alone. “But I have learned in my short life that sometimes our elders react in anger when they cannot express their pain.”
“You may be right, Your Grace. But I see no scenario in which we shall ever be in each other’s favor. As it is, I do not know a life in which he is in any way repentant or civil to anyone.”
“Your aunts have previously confided that their father was not a kind man,” Her Grace said as she looked at the two ships sailing toward the harbor, sails furling to slow their speed as the crowd around them still cheered the crew of Lucky’s boat. “They say he is changed now that his end is near. I’ve often felt that if we tried to understand where his pain comes from, we might better understand him. Not that you should forgive him or even love him.”
Ian didn’t want to tell her that he never gave the old man the time of day, and if it weren’t for his missing aunts, he’d never have asked about his grandfather. “You are right,” he said. “And I shall think on it, though I can make no promise where he is concerned.”
“I can ask no more than that, can I?” She smiled and went to stand next to her husband, who leaned down and whispered to her the news of his and Sarah’s wedding. She turned back at him and smiled, then leaned over to whisper to the Countess Camden, who then came to hug Sarah. Ian watched as His Grace and Lord Camden spoke privately while the two men looked off into the harbor.
So now they all knew—all except for the children, and they were sure to learn of it soon enough.
Everyone waited for Lucky’s arrival, and when he and the captain of the
Ann McKim
both came ashore, the two men confirmed what the race steward was fairly sure they’d all seen. Lucky had taken second place.
He shook hands with the captain of the Baltimore clipper and congratulated the man for sailing a good race. And within an hour of Lucky’s return, Ian was waving to Sarah as she left for the rented house with her family to rest while he and Lucky made arrangements to sail to their home port in London within the week.
“They will have questions, I’m sure,” Lucky said. “But my brother-in-law and Michael are good men, and they care for Sarah’s well-being and happiness.”
He just nodded as he climbed down to the landing, ready to step into the gig with several of his men and Lucky.
“As do I now,” Ian replied. “Though I am no closer to being ready for a wife and family as I was before I left Liverpool at the start of this race. I had a plan and wanted to accomplish certain things before I took on the responsibilities of….” He sighed as he rowed. No use lamenting what he could do nothing about now.
“That just goes to show that sometimes when we make plans God finds humor in them,” Lucky said as he rowed alongside him. “Which is why I never make a plan beyond right now. Life is too short to worry about what we’re going to do in five years’ time.”
The gig coasted alongside the hull of Ian’s
Revenge
, and Ian handed over the oar to a crewman, stood, and grasped the rope ladder as the boat slipped alongside, never coming to a complete stop. “I’ll see you this evening. What time was dinner again?”
“I’ll come back to get you. Be ready in about an hour,” his friend shouted as the men began to row again. “I’m certain there will be questions, so bring the license and certificate with you.”
Once he had both feet over the rail, Ian called for Goran to boil a pot of water and come help him trim his hair and give him a shave. “I have dinner at the duke’s residence this evening and must hurry. It wouldn’t do to appear like a shaggy dog, would it?” Goran laughed as he headed back to the galley.
The man had the steadiest hand on his entire ship, so if Ian needed a shave he wanted the best hand he knew to do the job. While he waited, he washed as best he could from head to toe so as to make a suitable impression on Sarah’s family. Goran arrived twenty minutes later with the razor tray and a bowl of steaming water.
He supposed one day he would need to groom on a regular basis, and he’d likely have to hire a valet for the job. But those were things he’d need when he settled down, and it wasn’t likely to happen in the near future. And that was something he’d have to prepare Sarah for, because he wasn’t ready to remain grounded. Since they’d never spoke of what would happen upon their return, he didn’t know if she wanted to return to her old life, or did she want to remain aboard
Revenge
with him?
He had to admit he’d grown used to her presence in his bed and enjoyed sex with her, but he didn’t think living aboard a boat was for a lady, and Ian was nowhere near ready to be landed. Even if his grandfather was toes-up in his casket, Ian was not ready for a life completely on land yet. His business still needed his full attention as it was about to expand significantly over the next few years. It was in his and Lucky’s plans.