Ransome's Crossing (33 page)

Charlotte had read somewhere, perhaps in the prayer book, a verse or proverb about fools.
The wise man’s eyes are in his head; but the fool walketh in darkness.
As Henry danced around Julia’s questions, causing her to ask each one in different ways several times, Charlotte’s darkness began to lift.

At fifteen years old, and besotted by the first attentions she had received, Henry’s patronizing ways seemed humorous, his way of teasing and flirting with her. Now that she had experienced more of life—and had lived for more than a month without being treated like a piece of fragile porcelain with fluff in her head rather than a capable, knowledgeable mind—Henry’s refusal to give Julia direct answers, to try to flirt his way out of imparting the information he held, and the way he looked to William when he did share a few specific details, Charlotte grew angry—with Henry and with herself.

No appellation fit her better than
fool
. She had been a fool to fall for Henry’s charms two years ago. She had been a fool to correspond with him—and to form a picture of him in her imagination built upon the nonsense in his letters. She had been a fool to agree to marry him, especially without her family’s knowledge and approval. And she had been a fool to endanger herself—and people she loved—by becoming Charles Lott.

She flicked her gaze at Ned, who sat to her left, facing Julia and William on the sofa. Though he tried to appear more interested in the tea and food, a slight smile played around his chiseled lips—and it grew each time Henry said something that frustrated Julia.

Charlotte had been the biggest fool not to recognize, from the first time she saw Ned, that she had met the man she would love for the rest of her life.

William finally put a stop to Julia’s questioning of Henry with the suggestion the ladies might like to rest before supper. Charlotte hopped up from her chair, eager to escape the uncomfortable setting.

Henry caught her before she entered the hall. “Might I entreat you to take a walk with me this evening after supper? The porch offers a delightful view of the cove.”

“Excuse me.” Ned inclined his head and brushed past Charlotte and continued down the hallway. She strained her neck to keep from turning to watch him walk away—or call after him to wait for her.

For better or worse, and for now, she was engaged to the man standing before her. She had to see if she could make things work or get him to agree to an amicable termination of their engagement.

“Yes, Henry. I will take a walk with you after supper.”

He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. Somehow, the amorous expression on his face was not reflected in his eyes. A chill climbed up her arm and settled in her chest. She bent her knees in curtsey, pulled her hand away, and did all within her power to walk, not run, down the hall.

In her bright, cheerful bedroom, Charlotte leaned against the closed
door a moment, trying to rid herself of the lingering effects of her encounter with Henry.

She had the perfect escape from the entanglement: William’s disapproval.

But she had never been one for doing things the easy way. Though it might take a little longer, she would find a way to convince Henry they should not marry.

An hour later, having worn herself out pacing and trying to formulate a plan, Charlotte had only one option left to her. She pulled a pillow off the chaise and tossed it to the floor in front of it. Then, mimicking the position she had assumed every Sunday her entire life, she knelt on the pillow, propped her elbows on the seat of the chaise, and clasped her hands together in what she assumed was a properly penitent position. She closed her eyes and knit her brow, the way William did when he prayed.

How did the prayers in the prayer book start?

“Almighty God in Heaven, our Father.” Yes, that was a good and proper beginning. Now what? “You are…mighty and…in heaven and…our Father.” No, that was not quite right. “Hallowed be Thy name.” Better.

There was something else about kingdoms and wills, but as Charlotte grew up knowing she’d never be part of the aristocracy, she had not paid much attention to that part of the prayers. “We—I…humbly beseech Thee to hear my prayer.”

She blew her breath out in a huff. This wasn’t working. “God, if You truly are there, as William and Julia seem to believe, I know You will hear my prayer without all the fancy words from the prayer book. I have been foolish. And I believe the Scriptures equate foolishness with wickedness. I do not want to be wicked. I want to be good, like William. He looks to You for guidance. I am not certain how to do that, but I know I can learn. And I promise I will. I will start learning right away. But I hope, I pray, in the meantime that You will help me figure out how to break my engagement with Henry. Because though my sin of foolishness is great, I believe it would be
a far greater sin for me to marry Henry when I am in love with Ned Cochrane.”

No plan immediately filled her mind. But William had said in his address to the crew last Sunday that God did not usually answer prayers the moment they were prayed, nor in a manner immediately recognizable as an answer, but that the truly penitent in heart could be assured that God would hear his—or her—prayer and answer it.

“Uh…that is all I want to say. So…Amen.”

She stood, replaced the pillow on the chaise, and bit her bottom lip as a smile overcame her.

Be patient, Ned. God is on our side now.

C
harlotte silently thanked Julia for stopping William’s protest before he could speak it when Henry asked his permission to take Charlotte for a stroll.

“We shall stay to the porches,” Henry explained.

Charlotte rose and took Henry’s arm before William could get his protest out, made a slight curtsey to her brother and sister-in-law, and practically dragged Henry from the room.

Once alone with him, though, uncertainty settled over her. She hardly knew this man, and what she had seen of him today did not dissuade her from the decision to try to end their engagement.

“I cannot help but be pleased—and flattered—that you traveled so far to come to me, Charlotte.”

Hearing her Christian name on his lips annoyed her—as much as it thrilled her whenever Ned said it. “I wanted…I needed to…find out if we still had a chance at a future together. And I could not do that from England when you were here. When my brother married Julia Witherington, I knew I had to take the chance and come here, even before I knew you worked for my sister, to see you again.”

The lights glowing from inside the house made it difficult to see much beyond the edge of the porch, so dark was the night. But once they moved beyond the windows of the great room, and past the darkened bedrooms, her eyes adjusted. Beyond the dark mass of the sugarcane fields, the sea stretched out like silver glass. Yes, she could definitely become accustomed to living here.

At the corner just outside her bedroom, Henry stopped and, placing his hands on her shoulders, turned her to face him. “How could you doubt we are still destined to be together? Did you not read my letters? I meant every word I said, every promise I made. For the past year, all I have been able to think of is you and our future.”

“
Two
years, Henry. It has been two years.” She caught the inside of her cheek between her teeth. If he wished to try to convince her he remembered more than he did, she would play this game with him. “You say you meant every word, every promise you made. So when you wrote me to say that you wished me to have the freedom to call off the engagement if I had a change of heart, you meant it?”

“I…well…when I wrote that…” He released her shoulders and waved his hands between them as he struggled for words. “That was when… when I did not know…” He stopped gesticulating. “You have not had a change of heart, have you?”

Ah. So he did not remember much of the drivel he had written to her over the years. “Henry, I was barely fifteen years old when we first knew each other—a girl still at school. What I have learned in the past two years, about myself and about the world around me, has changed me, has changed everything about me. I am no longer that naive, impressionable schoolgirl. I have studied, I have learned, I have been through difficulties you cannot begin to imagine”—because she did not intend to tell him about her misadventures aboard
Audacious
—“and I have gained wisdom that has taught me to reconsider many things I used to hold as truths.”

A slow smile spread across his face, but it was not a comforting expression. “There is one thing you are forgetting.”

“What is that?”

“This.” He grabbed her about the waist, hauled her up against him, and smashed his mouth down on hers.

Charlotte struggled, pushing against his chest, but he was stronger than she expected. Anger overrode her fear. She stopped struggling, and as soon as she did so he relaxed his hold. She stomped the heel of her shoe down on his toe and sent her fist into his gut.

Sputtering, he staggered back, arms around his stomach, hopping on one foot. “What did you do that for?”

She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “For taking liberties that are not yours to take.”

“Is everything all right here?”

Charlotte’s heart leapt when Ned appeared out of the shadows. Though she could not see his eyes clearly, from the hint of amusement in his voice she imagined them twinkling.

“Aye—yes, Captain Cochrane. Mr. Winchester and I were clearing up a little misunderstanding.” She stepped forward, feeling no guilt for pretending Henry had given her the promise of release. “Mr. Winchester, I am going to take you up on your promise to release me from our engagement. I have had a change of heart.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ned. “In fact, I love someone else and wish to marry him.”

Henry stopped groaning and hopping. He dropped all pretense at flirtation and looked between Charlotte and Ned. “We shall see about that. You agreed to marry me, Miss Ransome. Which means your legacy is mine for the claiming.”

She rubbed her lips together and then cocked her head. “You are more than welcome to take your case to my brother. It is he who controls my dowry, and it is he who never had knowledge of or gave permission for our ill-advised engagement. I am certain he will be happy to come to terms with you. But pray, do not plague me with your attentions any longer. I know you do not love me. I know you want only my money. Therefore, we have nothing further to say to each other.”

Henry gave her one more malevolent look and then stalked off into the darkness.

“Now I understand.” Ned leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed. The glow of light coming from the other end of the porch gave limited definition to the side of his face and showed his smile.

“Understand what?” Charlotte moved closer, needing to pull comfort and strength from his presence.

“How you made an enemy of Kent and lived to tell the tale.” He shook his head and stood. “Have you
no
common sense? Do you not know better than to taunt a hungry shark?”

She settled her hands on her hips. “It is the shark who should not taunt
me.
Have I not proven I am capable of surviving anything that comes my way? Have I not shown that I can do what a man can do as well as a man can do it? Have I not demonstrated—”

His lips pressed against hers in a kiss so gentle and sweet, the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. She grabbed the lapels of his coat to keep from melting into a puddle on the floor. With one hand, he pressed the small of her back, with the other, he pulled off her mobcap and caressed the back of her head.

The kiss ended, and Charlotte settled into his embrace, not minding the scratchy wool of his coat under her cheek.

“Aye, you have proven all those things.”

“I was a good midshipman, was I not?” Though she tried to sound confident, insecurity tinged her voice.

His laugh vibrated through his chest. “Yes. One of the best I have ever had the pleasure to serve with. But it makes me worry.”

She pushed back far enough to look into his eyes. “Worry?”

“Aye. Will you be content to give up your prospects for further promotion in the navy to become merely the wife of an officer?”

Joy knotted her throat, and she swallowed hard against it. “Aye, sir. It would make me most content to be the wife of Captain Ned Cochrane.”

The light breeze ruffled Julia’s hair. The sound of the waves kissing the beach warmed her—as did the feel of William’s hand clasped around hers. At first, he had not been convinced of the wisdom to take the long walk down to the cove. But once he had seen it…

“Are you certain we should have let her walk out with Winchester? I do not trust him.” William stopped and looked back up at the house.

Julia sighed and turned with him. Her home was barely visible in the dark, moonless night—a small glow atop the rise that provided its majestic view of the cove lapping softly against the sand behind them.

“She lived as a midshipman for a month. Before that, she proved her resilience by fending off the unwanted advances of Lord Rotheram. Henry Winchester knows none of these things. Do you believe he will be able to do anything she cannot handle? And if he does try anything, Jeremiah is only a few feet away. As is Ned.”

“Ned?”

“You think he is going to leave her alone with Winchester?” Julia harrumphed.

“Ned?” William finally turned his attention away from the house and to her again. “Ned Cochrane? And my sister? I suspected, but once I learned of her attachment to Winchester—”

“Ned Cochrane and your sister.” She reached up and ran her thumb across the creases in his brow, trying to soothe them, but he would not be deterred.

“Ned Cochrane…and Charlotte.” He stared out at the water a long moment and then shrugged. “I would wish him wealthier, but he is a good man. So you believe it to be serious?”

“She loves him. And I believe he loves her.”

“They have known each other too short a time to know if they are in love.” William’s mouth settled into a tight line.

Julia squeezed his hand until he looked at her. “I knew the first—or perhaps the second—time I clapped eyes on you that I loved you. ’Twas you who made me wait twenty years.”

The absurdity of her statement finally dragged him out of his worry, and he pulled her into his arms. “Aye, I can well imagine what your father’s reaction would have been if I had gone to him as a midshipman and told him I was in love with his ten-year-old daughter. There would not have been a Lieutenant Ransome to disappoint you seven years later. Though, I suppose you could have proven your love for me by weeping for me at my burial.”

She slid her arms around his waist. “Yes, I would have made such
a show of my love for you, the likes of which not even Shakespeare could compose. But as the Bard would say, all’s well that ends well.”

He cupped her jaw in his hand and lifted her face for a kiss. “But, my dear, we are only at the beginning.”

“I will not weep for you when you leave me.”

“I would hope not.”

“Nor when you return from sea.”

“I expect nothing more than calm disdain at my comings and goings.” He squeezed her tightly and then released the embrace. Taking her hand again, he started up the beach toward the road leading back to the house.

“I will not pine for you when you are away.”

“Nay. You will have too much to occupy your mind between running the plantation and tending to our children.”

Her skin tingled. “You will not be disappointed if children do not come immediately?”

“Children will come when God decides it is time, and not before.” He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side. “Will you be disappointed if more promotions do not come and I am stuck at the rank of post captain, with the posting of commodore, for the rest of my life?”

She smiled, even though she knew he could not see it in the darkness. “Promotion will come when God decides it is time, and not before.” Of course, to gain promotion, he needed to be at sea, making his name more widely known amongst the Admiralty. She wrapped her arms around his waist, almost throwing both of them off balance. “You will be cautious. You will come home to me more often than you go to sea.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Aye, Mrs. Ransome. I will always come home to you, even though I must live with the knowledge that you will not weep upon my return.”

His gentle humor staved off her melancholy…for now.

The breeze whistled through the thick grass blades at the tops of the cane stalks, the white, frilly seed fronds whispering together as Julia and William passed quietly under them.

“I can see now why you love this place so intensely,” William whispered.

“I hope you will come to love it too. It is your home now—”

William shoved her against the wall of sugarcane.

“What—?”

“Quiet.” He stilled, eyes fixed on the road before them. “I heard something.”

Julia heard nothing but her pounding heart. “You are unfamiliar with Tierra Dulce. It is probably nothing.”

“I will take no chances.”

She slowed her breathing and strained her ears. There—a rustling that did not come from the cane. An animal? Or something more sinister?

When nothing happened after several moments, William stepped back onto the road. “Stay behind me.”

She grabbed hold of the back of his coat with trembling hands and followed him the remaining few yards until the corridor opened onto the lawn.

“Who goes there?” A figure carrying a lantern bobbed down from the porch and moved swiftly toward them.

“Commodore William Ransome. Identify yourself.”