Loving Sarah (3 page)

With only a few weeks until the end of her third season, Sarah was beginning to feel her fate might lie in spinsterhood because of these desperate longings. She knew she was choosy, but wasn’t about to compromise in her requirements for a husband. Not only did he have to desire adventure as much as she, but his kiss should leave her weak in the knees and curl her toes—something her sister and sister-in-law told her was how they knew their husbands were the ones for them.

So, unless and until she found that man, she wouldn’t consider marriage. She’d rather remain the eccentric relative to her family. Because she would never compromise those two requirements.

Her decision made, she would turn her back on caution and grasp this opportunity.

“You’re quiet little sister,” Elise said as she sidled up to Sarah where she stood on the fringe of the group of ladies. “You have a wistful look about you. What are thinking about?”

“Wondering why I couldn’t have been born a male. I envy Lucky.”

Lia stifled a giggle. “You would have made a very effeminate male and not very attractive to the ladies I dare say.”

Sarah shrugged. “You both know what I mean. I have to return to London and finish out the season. And I’ll do so wishing the entire time I was racing with them.”

“As ladies our rewards are in the home—in caring for our families, friends, and neighbors,” Lia said. “Our legacy is the children we raise to carry on after we’re gone. I never thought of it that way until after I had Isabel and needed to be a role model for her.” Her sister-in-law turned her gaze on Sarah and studied her face. “I think next year we should concentrate more intently on finding you a match. We should talk to Ren about it after Lucky leaves. I think you’re ready for that husband now that the social season holds no more charm for you.”

Elise nodded. “Lia’s right. And from my own experience, just as with a high-strung filly, a babe will settle that restless spirit of yours.”

Sarah wanted to protest and remind her sisters of the stories she’d heard about Elise’s own youth, but the dinner bell rang and all of the guests proceeded into the dining room, taking their seats. She discovered her dinner companion to her right was Lucky’s partner, Mr. Ross-Mackeever. At first, having the handsome seafaring adventurer beside her caused her pulse to race. But it wasn’t long before she knew it wasn’t the fact that he’d sailed around the globe, but the man himself, that stirred her senses. The faint scent of cedar and citrus wafted from his direction, and she inhaled a shaky breath before looking his way.

She smiled. “So Mr. Ross-Mackeever, you must be excited. Lucky was when we spoke just before your arrival. And it must feel good to return to your home. Even if it is for only a day.”

“The race is to New York. I wish I had time to visit Baltimore, but in all honesty, there is no reason for me to return there yet.”

“Oh. Then you plan to eventually?”

“If we win this race, I will likely return to have my father’s friend build our two new clippers. There is no finer shipyard on the eastern seaboard.”

“You could have your ships built here. I’m sure His Grace can make the necessary introductions in Aberdeen. It’s where his import company was based before he bought out his cousins and moved operations to London. I’m certain we have relatives who know a shipbuilder or two.”

“That was one of the places we intended to query about building custom clippers.”

Footmen began serving the soup, and Sarah listened as the men continued their pre-dinner discourse on the opportunities for trade and import now that the East India Company had lost its monopoly as sole importers of tea to Britain. Talk of finance, trade, and the importance of diversification floated about the table.

But not Sarah. Her entire being quivered in the presence of Lucky’s partner. Or was it the excitement of the race? She was unsure. She pushed her fork around the plate as she listened to their conversation, trying to hide her anticipation. Sarah didn’t know if her excitement came from her plan to stow aboard Lucky’s clipper or her close proximity to this man who had a strange effect on her senses. She tried to make certain not to bump her arm into his, especially when she noted he was left-handed. But when she dropped her napkin she did, and he spilled soup on his cravat and waistcoat. Mortified, she met his gaze, wanting to disappear but at the same time to drown in his gold-flecked brown eyes. Or lick the warm and creamy onion soup from his chest.

Where had that thought come from?

“I’m so sorry. I….” Her face burned at the images racing through her head, and the entirety of the table staring their way. She immediately took her napkin and began to dab at his waistcoat until the footman hurried over to take care of it for her with a clean, damp linen. Mr. Ross-Mackeever waved the man away, blotting what little remained of the soup on his waistcoat himself.

“There wasn’t much soup left, as I was nearly done.” He showed her the bowl. “See? All is well, my lady,” he said through a smile. “No harm done.”

“Thank goodness,” she whispered, “I’m not normally so clumsy, and I sincerely apologize.”

Conversation resumed around them, and Mr. Ross-Mackeever spoke again. “Were you going to come out to the dockyards in the morning and watch the ships jockey for position at the starting line?”

Sarah kept her eyes cast downward, unwilling to have him see her excitement as she spooned up her soup. She took a deep breath to collect her emotions. “Yes, Mr. Ross-Mackeever. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

Her dinner partner was turning out to be very charming for an American. At first she’d thought him cocksure and a bit self-absorbed, she was fast coming to realize she was wrong. The man was gracious to everyone with whom he spoke.

“Your brother once said you and he are very much alike in that you are as adventuresome as he.”

Sarah sighed, again regretting her gender. “Lucky is right. One would think we were true brother and sister, rather than joined by the marriage of our siblings.”

“I’m fortunate to have your brother as a friend and partner. I’ve never met a more honest, intelligent, and unprejudiced man. I consider myself honored to call him friend.”

Sarah smiled as she held another spoonful of the onion soup. “He can also be annoying and stubborn, but that’s coming from a sisterly perspective.”

“I never had a sibling to annoy, or I’m sure I would have been the same.”

“Don’t say so! It would ruin my image of you,” she teased.

“Oh?” Mr. Ross-Mackeever laughed, the sound warm and pleasing. “What image is that?”

“One of a kind gentleman who is understanding and not as rigid and straight-laced as my older brother and Lucky.”

They laughed and compared upbringings, and soon the next course was served and the topic changed to the two schooners,
Revenge
and
Avenger.
Mr. Ross-Mackeever described the remodeling done to the sister ships. It reaffirmed to Sarah that he and Lucky were obviously proud of the modifications made to their boats and felt they stood a solid chance of winning the race after sizing up most of their competition earlier that afternoon.

“On first glance,” Lucky said, “the
Ann McKim
looks to be the best boat in the race, but looks can be deceiving. She’s long and sleek all right. But without knowing how she carries her ballast, or the type of keel she has, there’s really no knowing how well she’ll do. She’s a brand new design, built in Baltimore, at the very shipyard Ian’s father helped found, and while the American owner will captain her, my opinion is he doesn’t have half the experience necessary for an undertaking such as this.”

An uneasy quiet came over the table as everyone realized that in such an endeavor as this not everyone survived. “Unfortunately,” Ren said, “lives will be lost during this race. But I have every confidence in the two of you. In fact, were I twenty years younger, I might have entered myself. Not for the purse so much as the thrill of the adventure.”

Sarah pushed the vegetables around on her plate and kept her eyes downcast, for that was the very reason she planned to stow away aboard Lucky’s boat.

S
arah shoved the packed canvas bag she’d brought with her from London under her bed. She was going to be on that boat when it sailed in the morning. There was no way she was going to allow Lucky to have this adventure without her. She was tired of reading about everyone else’s voyages and missing out on ones right before her.

She’d spent the last five years as the embodiment of a well-mannered young lady because that was what was expected of the sister of a duke. And for the past three seasons, she’d smiled and swallowed her envy as Lucky lived the adventures of which she could only dream. First he and his partner sailed to America to buy the two American-made schooners they required for their newly chartered import company. Then last year she forced herself to feign interest in the social season while Lucky prepared to sail to China on their tea run. And late last summer, she smiled and wished him well as he sailed away again, all the while wishing she were with them.

Well, the balls, musicales, dinner parties, morning calls, and rides through Hyde Park would still be there when she returned. She was not going to sit in her room and cry as he sailed away. Not this time. This was the chance of a lifetime, and she wasn’t letting it pass her by.

By tomorrow night, she would feel the salty spray of the ocean on her face and the motion of the vessel under her feet. For some inexplicable reason she just knew her heart would soar as she heard the snapping of the sailcloth in the wind and the shouts of the men as they performed the tasks ordered by their captain. It would be just as Ren described when he’d told her of the adventures he had when she was a girl. Sarah smiled as she remembered forcing her brother to repeat each voyage every evening he was home.

When she was older, she read the journals and ship logs that lined the shelves of her brother’s office, finding these far more stimulating reading than the historical or scientific tomes or romantic novels in the library. These were log books with descriptions written in the hand of her relatives, who had seen and witnessed each act and event she’d read.

It was those tales of adventure and the uncertainty of success that sparked this desire within her to travel and see the world. They were food to her adventurer’s mind and soul.

Yes, without a doubt, Lucky would be angry with her when he discovered she’d stowed away, but he’d soon get over his anger when he realized he couldn’t very well return her to dry land. Her older brother would be furious as well once he realized what she’d done. But by the time anyone noticed her missing, she’d already be somewhere in the Atlantic and there’d be nothing they could do. She’d write a note to Ren explaining what she’d done and leave it on the
secretaire.
They’d find it when they looked through her room for clues, though they should know she’d seize the opportunity to sail the Atlantic and see New York City when it presented itself. After all, she’d talked about her desire to see the Americas her entire life.

The devil take her, but she’d happily face Ren’s anger upon her return for an adventure such as this!

A soft knock on her door preceded her maid, who’d come to help her undress for bed. While Trudy braided her thick mass of unruly waves, Sarah contemplated the timing of her escape. She had to leave well before breakfast and do so without calling attention to herself or setting up an alarm. Darkness was her ally.

With the mound of pillows on the bed, she would fashion a suitable form under the covers that hopefully upon first glance would appear human, thus indicating to her maid she still slept. Then once at the docks, she’d need someone to take her out to the boat. That was why she’d filled her coin purse and tossed it in the satchel. She didn’t doubt that she’d find someone to take her. In her experience, when you offered someone enough money, they’d willingly do just about anything.

The summer she was ten years old, she’d mapped the entire estate over a period of five weeks while the rest of the family enjoyed their season in London. She had been studying geography at the time, and Ren had joked about her mapping the American continents one too many times. Sarah had wanted to prove her map-drawing skill to her brother and set out alone to accomplish the task.

Of course she was found out before she’d gone one hundred yards from the stables. Theo, the stable lad, had discovered what she was up to as she led her pony, loaded with all of her supplies, plus a rolled napkin with some pilfered crusty bread, fruit, and cheese from the kitchens. At first, he refused to keep quiet about her expedition, until she offered him her collection of Roman coins she’d dug up near the old church ruins.

And on her brother’s birthday, she proudly presented him with a rolled, charted map of Haldenwood, current up to that date, with boundaries and crude elevation changes. When asked how she’d accomplished the task, much to their appalled dismay, she proudly regaled to the entire family, her solo adventures in mapping.

She spent the next week writing a different essay each day on her irresponsible actions that could have led to her injury with no one knowing for hours that she was missing and the search for her that could have taken weeks on an estate the size of Haldenwood. Each essay had to be new and different. No duplicating what she’d written the day before.

Sarah waited until her maid had gone and smiled as she then opened the drawer to her desk and took out a sheet of vellum, quill, and ink.