Unconquered (18 page)

He accepted the little velvet bag and knew from its weight that she was being quite generous. “We’ll be anchored in your bay by dawn, Miranda. You may begin bringing your supplies aboard then.

“Miranda, I must ask one thing of you. My crew are not gentlemen. In fact, they are quite rough. You will have to confine yourselves pretty much to your cabins during the crossing, and when you do walk out for exercise I ask that your dress be quite modest and that your hair be covered as well. A woman’s long hair blowing carelessly in the sea breeze can be quite tantalizing.”

Miranda felt a chill of fear. “Are you saying, Kit, that your crew are dangerous?”

“My dear, I thought you understood that. His Majesty’s Navy has taken every decent sailor available. What’s left for the privately owned ships, the blockade runners like myself, are the dregs of the waterfront. I have a first and second officer, and a bosun I rely on, and Charlie, my cabin boy. We keep the rest of the crew in check by fear, by intimidation, and the promise of riches at the end of the voyage. Even so, we officers are outnumbered. The least incident could set off a mutiny. That is why I must ask that you be discreet at all times.”

Suddenly Miranda realized the possible consequences of her reckless actions. Jared had not been unreasonable. It was dangerous. Yet, if they did not go with Kit, Amanda could lose Adrian. I want her to be happy, as I am, thought Miranda, and then she realized what she’d said.
I am happy!
Yes, I am! Perhaps Mistress Latham is right. Perhaps I do love Jared. It was the first time she’d ever considered such a thing, but she did not shy away from the idea.

Still, she must do this for Mandy. Amanda must have her chance at happiness, too.

“We will be most discreet, Kit, but because of what you’ve told me I want you to anchor in Big North Bay instead of the little bay below the manor house. My people will guide you to Hidden Pond and Hill Brook to fill your water casks. Bring your ship around Tom’s Point at sunset, and our luggage and supplies will be loaded just before we come aboard, under cover of darkness. We will not be visible to your crew if we do it that way.”

“Excellent! You’ve a good head on your shoulders for a woman. Wouldn’t have expected it!” He rose. “My thanks for your hospitality, Miranda. I’ll look forward to seeing you aboard
Seahorse.
”

As Kit Edmund returned to his ship he mused over the last hour. Miss Amanda Dunham was an adorable young woman without a doubt, but a man would be foolish to overlook Mistress Miranda. There was a young woman with beauty and character, and he promised himself that he would get to know her better during their voyage. He suspected that she could talk to a man about things that would interest him, and that she did not engage in the silly prattle that, with most females, passed for conversation.

Miranda had seen Kit to the door, and then returned to the
parlor to snuff the candles. Seating herself in a wing chair before the crackling fire, she listened to the rising wind in the bare oak trees outside. They were always late to leaf, and always late to lose their leaves. The willows and the maples were already greening. She would miss spring on Wyndsong, but as soon as Amanda was safely wed she’d be on the first ship back she could get. By late summer she’d be safely home on Wyndsong, safe with Jared. Never again would she leave him or Wyndsong.

She wished she had realized sooner that all those strange and conflicting feelings she had felt were the beginnings of her love for him. Did he really love her, as Rachel Latham believed. She closed her sea-green eyes, and pictured him, remembering his green eyes growing dark with lust, his tanned, hawklike visage, the thin, sensuous lips bending over her. Her face grew warm; and she could almost hear his deep voice saying, “
You will love me, Miranda, because I will it, and I am not a man to be denied.
” She shivered. Why had he said that? Was it because he loved her? Or was it only his pride demanding she love him? Could it have been only that?

“Damn!” she swore softly. She wished she knew the answer. Standing up, she paced back and forth in the dark for a few minutes before lighting a chimney lamp, setting it on the desk, and sitting down to write to him. Drawing a sheet of cream-colored vellum from a drawer, she picked up the quill.

The wind howled mournfully in the tall oaks, and long dark clouds skipped across the sky playing hide and seek with the quarter moon. A log snapped loudly, and crashed into the grate in a shower of sparks. She jumped, the pen slipping from her hand. Then as the tension began to drain from her, she laughed. Picking up the quill again, she began writing swiftly with sure, clear strokes.

    Chapter 6    

My dear husband, I love you, and because I do, it makes it hard to write what I must write. As you read this, Amanda, Mama, and I are a quarter of the way across the ocean to England. We have sailed from Wyndsong this tenth day of April aboard
Seahorse
, an English vessel owned and captained by Christopher Edmund, the Marquis of Wye, who is the brother of one of Mandy’s discarded suitors. I could not let my sister lose Adrian Swynford, for she loves him deeply. As I now understand what love is and how she feels, I could not bear to see her unhappy. I am unhappy for her. I ache for her. And I am afraid, too—afraid that having finally found you, I shall lose you. Please don’t be angry with me. I shall hurry home immediately after the wedding, I promise you. Wait for me.

Your loving wife, Miranda

With a smothered curse Jared Dunham crumpled the letter and glared at Jed. “Couldn’t you have gotten here sooner?” he demanded.

“Two and a half days from Wyndsong to Plymouth ain’t poor time, Master Jared.”

“Two and a half days!” Jonathan Dunham whistled admiringly. “Damn, man! Did you fly?”

The weathered stableman grinned. “Thought I was flyin’ at times, ’stead of sailin’. Came closer to being seasick than I’ve ever been in m’life. Had a helluva south wind pushing us right along. I rode overland from Buzzards Bay. You owe Barnabas
Horton five dollars for bringing me up, Master Jared. Figured you’d want me to take
Sprite
back to Wyndsong, ’cause you’ll be goin’ after Miss Miranda in a bigger ship.”

“You’re damned right I will!” roared Jared, and Jonathan chuckled despite his brother’s outraged glower. “Did my wife give you this note?”

“Nope. Miss Dorothea sent me to tell you they’d gone. Jemima give me the note. Said you ought to hear yer lady’s explanation, and then maybe you wouldn’t beat her too bad when you caught up with her.”

Jonathan whooped with laughter, only to be silenced by a look from Jared.

“I’ll need a ship, Jon, and a crew willing to run that damned blockade. She may get to England safely, but getting back to Wyndsong’s another matter.”

“
Dream Witch
is finished in dry dock, Jared. A few touches, and we could rig her out to look like a private, seagoing yacht. There are a number of seamen here in Plymouth who would be more than willing to sail with you as crew.”

“Anyone sailing with me will be well paid, Jon. I want
Dream Witch
ready in twenty-four hours. With luck I can make England just before that headstrong vixen I married.” He turned to Jed. “Go to the kitchen and get Martha to feed you, then get a night’s rest. There are extra rooms above the stable. I’ll have a letter of instruction for Captain Browne in the morning. Go along now.”

“Yes, sir.” Jed left the room.

“Is your business finished here, brother Jared?” asked Jonathan softly.

“I thought it was, Jon. I had told them that, now that I was a married man, I could no longer work for them as I had in the past. They wanted me to make one more trip to Europe, and I said no. But I’ve changed my mind. I shall go back to them tonight and say that I will. If a war between England and America can be prevented, I will feel it work well done. Despite what President Madison feels, Napoleon means us no good. He has been badly advised in this matter. All those young, ill-educated congressmen from the Western territories are so eager for a war. To them, another war with England is no more than a good barroom brawl, and they’re spoiling for a fight. How glamorous it seems in retrospect! Little David challenging and defeating
Goliath. God, how sick I am of wars, big and small! If this country is to grow and thrive we must build a strong economy, and war only wastes lives.” Then he laughed at himself. “Jon, you got me going again.”

“You should run for Congress yourself, Jared. I’ve said it before.”

“Perhaps I will someday, but at the moment I seem to have little control over my own home,” he answered ruefully.

“It was not a mistake, then? You really do love her?”

“God, yes! So much that she can drive me to anger as quickly as she can to passion. You know, brother, in the four months we’ve been married she has never admitted to the slightest affection for me, but the first three words of her letter are ‘I love you.’ Does she mean it, or does she mock me? I intend to find out, and as quickly as possible.” Again, his fist tightened around her letter.

His temper had not improved when, several weeks later, he stood on the West India Company docks in London and watched
Seahorse
being made fast. He had left Plymouth on the fourteenth of April and, by a combination of favorable winds, expert sailing, and the fact that his
Dream Witch
was sleeker and built for speed, managed to arrive in London three days ahead of his quarry. Roger Bramwell had been quite surprised to see him, but with his usual efficiency had gotten Jared’s London house running smoothly.

“M’lord, it is good to see you,” the secretary had greeted him. “I didn’t expect you back for some time.”

“My ward’s wedding to Lord Swynford draws me, Bramwell. And why the ‘m’lord’?”

“Your title, sir, ‘lord of the manor,’ was a royal grant. You are entitled to use it here in England. I suggest that in the interest of your business and your social position you do use it. As to Miss Amanda Dunham’s wedding, the gossip, thanks to the dowager Lady Swynford, has it that the match is off. Lord Adrian is going about with a very long face, and the mamas of several eligible heiresses have been seen at Almack’s in deep conversation with Lady S. Everyone assumed the political troubles between England and America would prevent your coming.”

“It might have, Bramwell, were my wife not so stubborn. Send a note around to Lord Swynford asking him to dine with me
tonight. Say that my ward is en route to England now. Best to put him out of his misery quickly. Be sure the note is delivered to Lord Swynford personally and not to anyone else.”

Miranda had been correct, Jared mused, and had she not taken the initiative her sister might indeed have lost young Swynford.

The wind blew the stench of the river at him, and Jared lifted a scented handkerchief to his nose. Adrian Swynford had arrived promptly at seven o’clock that evening, and never had Jared seen such an eager young man. He smiled at the recollection. Lord Swynford was of medium height and build. His eyes were cornflower blue, his hair a dark blond, clipped short in the back, a deep wavy curl falling across his high forehead. He had a fair English complexion with ruddy cheeks that bespoke his good health. His eyes were intelligent. He had a straight nose, well-shaped mouth, and firm chin. It was a pleasing face.