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Authors: Lynn Collum

BOOK: The Captain
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He sat up straighter in the chair when a second truth dawned on him. He didn't know if there was someone else in Jacinda's life, but he had the impression not. There was certainly no one in his, nor had been since Mariah. But his father had the right idea. If Drew married Jacinda, he would become her heir and there would no longer be a reason for her to die. She would no longer be in danger. Not to mention, it might help assuage some of his guilt. He still had a sense that his father and Blanchett might have triggered the murder with the proposed marriage.
Drew nodded at his father. He knew their reasons for the wedding to take place at once weren't the same, but that didn't matter. “I shall wed her as soon as a license can be procured.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The following day dawned bright and sunny over Somerset. Drew rose early, hoping to catch Jacinda before she started her chores to tell her what decision he'd made about her. As he strolled though the gardens he wondered what she would look like fashionably dressed with her hair properly done. The face was too delicate for a boy, but would it be pretty as a woman? He was surprised at how anxious he was to see her properly attired. But no matter how she looked, he fully intended to do his duty.
He scanned the gardens but there was no sign of her at work. He made his way to the small cottage in the woods. There he discovered Ben lacing his boots on the front bench.
“Good morning, lad, where is Miss Blanchett?”
There was little welcome in Ben young face. He angrily scanned the area to make certain they were alone. “Don't call her that, sir. Someone might hear.”
“Very well, where is Jack?” Drew settled on the bench beside the boy.
“Gone to have Seth sharpen the scythes for the lads coming on Monday.” Ben went back to tying his brogans, ignoring the captain.
Drew understood that in the boy's mind he'd suddenly gone from benefactor to dangerous meddler, so he set about trying to mend the relationship. “Ben, I'm still your friend and as such I want to help. You know Jack shouldn't be here working as my gardener. She's a gently bred female.”
The boy jumped to his feet, facing Drew. “You're not going to send her back over there with someone wanting to do her in, are you? Besides, she can take care of herself. She's not one of those namby-pamby misses that has to be sheltered from everything.”
“I know she has weathered her life on the run better than most would, but don't you think she deserves what is rightfully hers? To live at Chettwood, go to parties, and have a normal life. I have a plan that will take her out of harm's way.”
The boy was scarcely more than a child, but more mature than most of his age. “She does deserve to go home. What have you in mind?”
Drew was struck by how Jacinda's influence had bettered young Ben. If what Drew suspected was true, he was a highwayman's son. Yet, the lad could read and speak as if he had grown up in one of the large houses in this neighborhood. He wouldn't fully understand how much she'd done for him until he was grown. For the lad, it wasn't about her fortune—he loved her for herself.
“You know that Miss, er—that the lady and I are betrothed. It was arranged by our fathers years ago. I'm convinced that was what brought about Blanchett's death and the danger to Jacinda. Someone wants her fortune before she can wed and have a family.”
“Aye, Aunt Trudy always said as much.”
“Well, if I marry her, then by law what is hers becomes mine and there is no reason for anyone to murder her.”
The lad stared out at the trees a moment, then faced Drew with troubled eyes. “But she still loses her fortune in that plan.”
Drew shook his head. “It's not like that, lad. I'll have her solicitor make arrangements for her to keep control of everything that's hers. No one need know.”
Ben searched the captain's face a moment as if he could find evidence of the truth there. “You'll let her keep what's hers?”
Drew nodded.
“It's a sound plan, Captain, but there's one problem.”
“If you think I would harm her, lad—”
“That's not the problem, sir. I've acquitted you of being involved in anything bad to do with this. It's only that Jack is pretty stubborn. If she gets it in her head she doesn't want to marry you there's nothing you or I or even the likes of the Prince of Wales could do to change her mind.”
Such romantic nonsense might prove to be a problem. Drew had been so busy planning her future he'd given little thought to
her
wishes. “Has she taken me in aversion?” Somehow he didn't want to think he'd done anything that offended her. As Jack he'd liked her drive and determination, so surely he'd admire her as a female.
“Oh, nothing like that. It's only she's female and they have the oddest notions about love and marriage. I heard her tell Lili that one would be a fool to marry without loving one's partner.”
If the boy was right, Drew would have to handle matters carefully. Without careful handling, he would frighten her into running away and if he'd learned anything about Jack, it was that she was fully capable of doing just that. But what could he do? If only there were someone to encourage her to do as he asked. Someone whom she trusted ... Then it dawned on him. Who was the one person she'd kept informed of her well-being these eight years past? Her father's solicitor, Thomas Wilkins. That was the one person whose support Drew must enlist.
He promised Ben he'd come up with a solution and the boy headed out towards the stables, leaving Drew on the bench to ponder how he would handle Jacinda. He had to get her to agree to return to London. His mind was so busy with plans that it was several minutes before he realized he was no longer alone.
A footfall brought him from his thoughts. Drew looked up to see Jacinda standing in the clearing in front of him, the scythes over her shoulder. He rose and bowed. She hesitated a moment, then greeted him as she lowered the tools to the ground. “Is there a problem, Captain?”
“No, but I told you I needed to think about what best to do about your situation. I'm still uncomfortable about your position here.” She began to protest, but he held up his hand. “Please hear me out. I think we should return to London and speak with your father's solicitor.”
Jacinda frowned. “Why?”
“There are several reasons. First and foremost is that he has been the one investigating your father's death. He would know best where we should focus our attention. It would be fruitless to waste weeks asking questions about someone who has already been proven to be innocent. Also, I think it important that you establish your claim before you are one-and-twenty. It seems some of your relatives want you declared dead.” It bothered Drew that Mrs. Devere had offhandedly suggested such at tea, urging him not to have false hope. She'd even gone so far as to remind him that he was now wealthy and didn't need to dangle after an heiress.
Drew watched the uncertainty play on Jacinda's face. He didn't want to give her the other reason he wanted to see Wilkins. He needed the solicitor's support before he informed the lady of his intentions. At last, she seemed to come to some decision.
“I do think I should speak with Mr. Wilkins. I should like to make arrangements for Ben to have a separate income in case something were to happen—”
Drew's hand closed over her shoulder. “I won't let anything happen. I promise.”
Their eyes locked and Drew once again marveled at the length of her lashes. How had he not seen that “Jack” was a woman? Because he'd been too taken up with his own problems.
She broke into his musing when she asked, “When will we depart?”
Relief washed over Drew and his hand dropped from her. “I shall be interviewing bailiffs today, and tomorrow is Sunday. Why not leave after the workers arrive on Monday? That way you can instruct them as to what still needs to be done. There is plenty to keep them busy. Hopefully we shall return by Friday at the latest.”
“Very well, and may Ben go with us?”
“He is most welcome.” With the boy in London, Drew would have one more voice supporting the plan for them to wed.
 
 
“Miss Blanchett and Captain Andrew Morrow to see you, sir!”
Thomas Wilkins blinked his eyes twice as his clerk's words sank into his busy brain. The summer heat in the upstairs office had left his face damp and pink but the news just imparted made his cheeks flush red. He looked closely at his clerk thinking perhaps his young employee had taken to tippling at his desk. “I am not amused, Harwick. No one has seen either one of those poor children in eight years. If you have taken to drink ...”
Harwick swallowed hard. His employer was not a cruel man, but he certainly had little sense of humor and if the pair in the front office were playing a prank, it would be his post. “I swear, sir, I've not had a drop. The gentleman gave me his card, albeit his companion don't look like a Miss Blanchett to me, but a lad.” A trembling hand came out and dropped the rectangular cream vellum on the solicitor's desk.
Mr. Wilkins snatched it up and pushed his glasses up on his nose, the better to see the plain lettering. Could it possibly be true? Excitement coursed through his veins. Could his search for the child be at an end? He stood and gestured at Harwick even as he reached for his jacket that hung on the back of his chair. “Show them in at once, man.”
Within minutes a tall, neatly dressed gentleman and what appeared to be a young lad of fifteen or sixteen stepped into the large office. Wilkins gaze roved over the lad's heart-shaped face. He scarcely recognized young Jacinda. If not for the tiny mole at the corner of her mouth, he would not have known her, for in most other ways she was much changed. His strongest memories were of a delicate little girl who used to come in and beg her father to override Cousin Millie's orders to stay indoors. Gone was the plain child who was so fragile that a puff of wind would have knocked her over. In her stead was a young woman with an attractive face, and maturity and confidence in her hazel eyes. He suspected a hint of stubbornness, as well, for this was no bashful miss as she met his gaze squarely. His only complaint was that she was dressed as a boy instead of as the proper lady she'd been raised.
He scarcely paid attention to the young gentleman since he'd never met the baron's son. The solicitor hurried from behind the desk to take the young lady's hand. “Miss Blanchett, welcome. And may I say you are looking fit.”
Jacinda extended her hand to the gentleman who was a bit grayer and perhaps a bit heavier but still had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. “Mr. Wilkins, how are you?”
“Much better now that I see you with my own eyes and know that you are well and safe.” The solicitor put out his hand to Captain Morrow. “I'm not certain how the two of you came to be together, but you, sir, seem to have made good use of the years, Captain, is it? Do sit down and tell me all, both of you.”
Jacinda and Drew sat in the seats to which the old gentleman gestured. Jacinda waited until he'd gone back behind the desk and settled himself. He offered them tea but both declined.
“I'm all ears, child. Your letters told me only that you were safe. Where have you been all this time?”
It took some twenty minutes for her to tell her story. Mr. Wilkins didn't say a word, but when she told him of Trudy's death, he made a noise of sympathy and shook his head. When she got to the part about meeting Captain Morrow, that gentleman took over and briefly explained he'd only learned about Mr. Blanchett's death on his return from India. He told of his unfortunate encounter with the Press Gang and being rescued by “Jack” and Ben Trudeau. Lastly, he told of discovering Jacinda's true identity only after he'd hired her to work as gardener at his father's estate in Somerset.
Astonished, Wilkins face turned a bit ashen. “Miss Jacinda, have you already been home?”
“I have been to the captain's home. Do not think that my relatives have learned of my whereabouts, for I assure you they have not.”
The solicitor slumped back in his chair in silence for a moment. “You've both had your own adventures. Unfortunately, despite Bow Street's best efforts we still don't know who killed your father. And you are certain they tried to harm you?”
“They searched the rocks for me and left only when a carriage could be heard coming.”
The old gentleman's brows moved lower. “Well, then, my dear, you could be in as grave a danger today as you were eight years ago.”
“Mr. Wilkins,” Captain Morrow asked, “who would inherit after Miss Blanchett died?”
“That is what has me puzzled, Captain. I wrote the codicil to Blanchett's will when Jacinda was five. Besides her, there is no heir at present.” On seeing the puzzled looks on his visitors faces, he continued. “Your father arranged that if for any reason you should die without issue before you reached your majority or before you marry, his funds and estate should be held in trust for the offspring of his brother Matthew's children. Mr. Claude Blanchett, who is unmarried, and his sister, Mrs. Jane Iverson, who is two years married, are both childless.”
Drew Morrow rose and went to stand behind Jacinda. “Then perhaps there was some other reason for the attempt on her life.”
The solicitor pressed his lips primly together a moment and his face flushed. “This is a rather difficult matter to discuss, my dear. Your father was ...” he hesitated.
“My father was a philanderer.” She said it, but it was difficult for her to fathom. She had loved him dearly but it was only after she was older that she understood the hurt he had inflicted on her mother.

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