Ransome's Crossing (5 page)

Why would he not want her when awake, yet want to hold her in his sleep?

Julia needed her mother. The lump of emotion grew, and she set the teacup down before her hands started shaking. She wanted Mama to talk to, to ask questions of, to receive assurances from. She couldn’t talk to Susan or Mrs. Ransome—they would not understand. They would believe William had made a poor choice in a wife who complained about him and questioned his intentions to his mother and best friend’s wife only a few days after the wedding. But without being able to go to them, she had no one in whom to confide. No one else whom she trusted to keep her concerns and questions confidential.

“Mrs. Ransome, my dear, are you unwell?” Lady Fairfax’s concern broke through Julia’s emotional turmoil.

“Pardon? Oh, yes. I do apologize, my lady. It would seem my mind is much occupied this afternoon.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Lady Fairfax simpered and smirked. “’Tis always so with the newly married. When Lord F and I were just wed, I could not carry on a serious conversation for months.”

The idea of Lady Fairfax having ever possessed the ability to carry on a
serious
conversation forced a smiled through Julia’s worries.

“And you have the added distraction of preparing for your removal to the West Indies. Why, the very idea of returning to that pestilential place must have you all in a tizzy when you must have thought yourself finally settled at home.”

“But Jamaica is my home, Lady Fairfax. I long to see the plantation again, to spend time with lifelong friends I had to leave behind.” To discover if the missing ten thousand pounds from the new steward’s ledgers was a mistake or treachery.

Yes. That must be her focus now. Worrying about William’s whims of will availed her naught except grief and a headache. She must keep in mind why she married him in the first place: to return to Tierra Dulce and protect her home.

“Well.” Lady Fairfax fairly snorted the word. “If that isn’t the queerest thing I’ve ever heard. Home in Jamaica indeed.” Her eyes took on a glint. “But of course you are teasing me. No one would prefer that godforsaken place to England.”

Julia answered only with a tight smile. She would never be able to convince the baroness Jamaica was her idea of heaven on earth.

“Tell me about your sister.”

Julia blinked, trying to hide her confusion, certain the baroness knew about Michael. “I have no sister, only a brother who was lost at sea fifteen years ago.”

“Miss Charlotte Ransome, goose.” Lady Fairfax tapped Julia’s wrist with her fan. “My children are much taken with her. Percy speaks of her constantly.”

Ah, yes.
That
sister. The one hiding the letter Julia had accidentally seen in which a man declared his love for Charlotte and asked her to marry him. “Charlotte is a wonderful young woman. Very accomplished. But…I believe Commodore Ransome and his mother think
her far too young to entertain any idea of a serious attachment. She is not yet eighteen.”

Lady Fairfax laughed. “I know it is no longer the thing amongst this generation to marry young, but in my day, if a woman were not engaged by her eighteenth birthday, she was considered on the shelf. And is it not true that you yourself would have married at Miss Ransome’s age if a certain handsome lieutenant would have but asked?”

Julia conceded the point by inclining her head.

“I understand Commodore Ransome has settled a small fortune on his sister. Ten thousand, is it not?”

Julia hated discussing financial matters in public. Mama had taught her it was vulgar and done only by shallow, vain people. But over the past year, she’d learned it was not only accepted, but expected amongst society. “Yes, ma’am. Commodore Ransome and his brothers settled that amount on her.”

“I am certain, then, that at her ball tomorrow all the gentlemen will be buzzing around her. It is good you shall be there to help her determine who is of an appropriate social position to pay his addresses to her. No one should be burdened by marrying outside of her station.”

And with that, Julia understood Lady Fairfax’s position clearly. Her son could be seen to flirt with a young woman with a ten-thousand-pound legacy, but the Fairfaxes would never tolerate his marrying the daughter of a common sailor, no matter her wealth or that of her brothers.

“Yes. I feel my duty in helping Charlotte find a suitable husband as a grave undertaking.” And her duty in warning Charlotte about forming any attachment to Percy Fairfax. Not that Julia suspected she had, but young women could be unpredictable, and she did not know Charlotte all that well.

“We would like to play our part.” The baroness leaned forward. “Charlotte is such a dear girl, quite a friend to Penelope. We would like to invite her to go with us to the country next week. Pen and Percy always have friends come in for a few weeks—parties and balls every night, practically. It would be a wonderful introduction to a larger society for her, to prepare her for a London Season next year.”

While Julia hoped Charlotte would accept the invitation to join the Fairfaxes at their country estate, she knew William and Mrs. Ransome would never agree to exposing Charlotte to the garish, soul-snuffing madness that marked a Season in Town.

“A formal invitation shall be sent, but I hope you might work on her mother tonight.”

“If I see her this evening, I will certainly inform her of your intention.” To Julia’s relief, the mantel clock chimed the quarter hour. “Gracious, I did not realize I had been here so long. I wish I could stay longer…” She let her voice trail off.

“I am certain you have many other visits to make, so I’ll not be greedy and keep you to myself. But we will see you again at Lady Dalrymple’s ball, if not before.”

Julia curtseyed in farewell and finally escaped. In the carriage on the way back to her father’s house, she imagined Charlotte interacting with the Fairfaxes’ acquaintances. The Fairfax family had been nothing but kind to Charlotte, and the opportunity they offered her to expand her social circle was something that the Ransomes had probably never dreamed of for her. They would be foolish to refuse the invitation. But with the Fairfaxes’ penchant for caring about nothing other than gossip and fashion and London, Julia hoped Charlotte’s character was strong enough to resist being altered from the innocent, unpretentious girl she now was.

William had told her to think on the prospect of bringing a woman companion on the voyage. What would he say if she suggested Charlotte?

N
ed hated the way the high, stiff collar of his dress uniform chafed his jaw and earlobes. But he wouldn’t have missed this night for anything…it might be his last chance to see Miss Charlotte Ransome, and he intended to make the most of it. He had been unable to clear his mind of thoughts of her since her visit to
Alexandra
two days ago. He decided he’d best let his infatuation run its natural course than to try to quell it. Soon enough an ocean would be separating them, making it much easier to forget her.

The jolly boat scraped to a stop at the quay, and Ned and the rest of
Alexandra’s
lieutenants disembarked with much straightening of waistcoats and jackets. As Commodore Ransome had indicated, two carriages waited to convey them to Brampton Park.

In Ned’s carriage, Lieutenants O’Rourke and Campbell wondered aloud if certain young ladies of their acquaintance might be in attendance.

“Of course, Ned will be the most honored man there tonight.” O’Rourke’s brogue broke through Ned’s thoughts.

“Whatever are you on about?” Ned asked, adjusting his perfectly fitted gloves.

“You…and Miss Charlotte Ransome. She fancies you, I have no doubt. She’d give you her hand for every dance, were you to ask.”

Ned’s hope kindled briefly, but he doused it in haste. “Once again, you’ve allowed your Irish imagination to run wild. She would no sooner
look on me as worthy of her affection than the night watchman at the city gate.” No matter how much he wished it otherwise.

O’Rourke and Campbell exchanged a look that Ned pointedly ignored.

“Has the commodore said aught else about a traveling companion for Mrs. Ransome?” Campbell asked, turning the tide.

“No. Not to me, at any rate. Why? Do you have someone in mind?”

“Nay. Just wondering if we would be getting a double shot of superstitious nonsense from the crew.”

Because she was the daughter of their admiral and a well-respected woman in naval circles, the crew had not raised much of a complaint when Commodore Ransome had announced that his new bride would be sailing with them across the Atlantic.

“What about the wife of one of the warrant officers?” Campbell suggested. “An older woman who isn’t going to cause any…disruption to the men below decks.”

“How do you suggest the commodore choose which man brings his wife when none of the rest are allowed?” Ned asked.

“Not all of them would want to bring their wives.” O’Rourke’s brown eyes twinkled. “Eliminate them straight off.”

“Hold a lottery for the rest. Whoever’s name is drawn becomes Mrs. Commodore’s traveling companion.” Campbell nodded, the issue apparently settled in his mind.

“And if Mrs. Ransome and the officer’s wife don’t get on with each other? Then you have two women aboard ship who want to be anywhere
but
in the other’s company. And since neither of you has sisters, I will tell you that when my sister and mother row, no one around them is happy or productive.” Ned held in his smile at Campbell’s crestfallen expression. “Let’s allow Mrs. Ransome to choose her own companion if she so desires, shall we?”

O’Rourke and Campbell lapsed into silence, for which Ned was grateful. The carriage rattled on over roads—dirt now they’d left the confines of Portsmouth—rougher than a jolly boat on a stormy sea.

“D’you suppose now the captain’s been promoted to commodore that he’ll promote you to captain when we make Kingston station, Ned?” Campbell never had been able to tolerate silence for long.

Ned’s stomach turned. “I try not to speculate. I am content to consider myself blessed to remain in the service and leave it at that.”

“Do you not want your own command?” O’Rourke gazed at Ned as if appraising his worthiness for promotion.

Did he? Horrible screams and the phantom stench of fire whirled around in his head. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“Of course he wants a command, just as we all do. Right, Ned?”

“Right, Angus.” Yet he couldn’t help but pray God would never bring that circumstance to pass.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the enormous manor house. Ned climbed out first—privilege of rank—and adjusted his high-domed, black beaver-pelt hat on his head. Just a few more paces and he would be in the same room as the lovely and intriguing Miss Charlotte Ransome once more.

Leaving his hat in the cloakroom, Ned forced himself into the crush of black evening suits and white gowns pressing toward the ballroom. He’d overheard whispers at the commodore’s wedding breakfast that Lady Dalrymple’s home was one of the few private homes near Portsmouth to boast a room designated solely for dancing.

If Charlotte Ransome was now swimming in such an ocean of wealth and influence, she would never give it up for his mere puddle of a life. Not that he would be asking her to.

He spotted his commanding officer and detoured that direction to report their arrival and the state of the ship when he’d left her half an hour ago. He stopped a few paces from the commodore and was going to salute, but then he remembered the absence of his hat. He snapped into a more sociable bow instead.

“Mrs. Ransome,” Commodore Ransome’s voice hitched on the epithet for his wife, “may I present Lieutenant Cochrane?”

Ned bent in another bow to hide his smile. “Mrs. Ransome, it is a great pleasure to see you again.”

Her lovely green eyes twinkled with amusement. “Lieutenant Cochrane.”

William turned to the uniformed man beside him. “And Admiral Witherington, you will recall, of course, my first lieutenant.”

Heat climbed into Ned’s cheeks. He hadn’t thought about the possibility of William’s new father-in-law—and their flag officer—being here. “Admiral Sir Edward.”

“Lieutenant. And have you brought your fellows with you?” The admiral’s voice came across as gruff, but a hint of humor danced in his eyes—eyes the same color green as his daughter’s.

“Aye, sir.
Alexandra
is well represented by her officers.”

The admiral nodded and then turned his attention to another vying officer. Ned turned back to William and gave his report, remaining at all times aware of the admiral’s presence and occasional attention. Most officers of Ned’s experience would have jumped at the chance to be brought to the notice of a high-ranking officer like Admiral Sir Edward Witherington. Ned wished he were anywhere but here.

If he had any other talents or skills, he would have quitted the Royal Navy at the onset of the Peace. But having signed on to his first ship at age ten as a volunteer, he knew no other trade by which to earn his living. And he did enjoy naval life, for the most part. He just wished his career could continue on its current heading: as first officer under the command of William Ransome, the man he trusted above all others, the man for whom he would walk through fire or swim through shark-infested waters.

“Thank you for your report, Ned. Now, go and enjoy yourself.”

“I believe Charlotte—and most of the young people—are in the conservatory, Lieutenant.” The tilt of Julia Ransome’s lips brought renewed heat to Ned’s face. He inclined his head to her and took his leave.

Charlotte ducked back into the overcrowded conservatory as Ned
Cochrane parted company with William and Julia. Her traitorous heart gave a leap when she noted he was headed in her direction.

Try as she might, she could not conjure up an image of Henry, her betrothed, while Ned Cochrane, a stranger, was just a few feet away and getting closer.

She’d wanted to save the first set for Ned, to lead off the ball on his arm…but she denied herself that pleasure out of an innate sense of loyalty to her fiancé. And she could not be too cautious in limiting her exposure to him, even if they would be serving on separate ships.

A man stepped out in front of her, halting her progress through the room. “Miss Ransome, I have been looking high and low for you.”

She snapped open her fan and fanned her face in what she hoped was a coquettish manner as she returned his bow with a quick curtsey. “Mr. Fairfax. What a pleasure to see you again.”

“Mother and I were talking just today about you.”

Charlotte’s heart quickened. “Oh?”

“Yes. You know we are readying to leave Portsmouth for the country. Mother suggested, and I agreed, that it would be a capital idea to invite you to come for a long stay.”

Her throat tightened. When Julia had mentioned to her and Mama that the Fairfaxes would be extending an invitation for Charlotte to go on holiday with them in the country, she had been thrilled at the compliment to herself. But then the logistics of the situation settled in her mind. She could not accept the invitation—the Fairfaxes had already put it about that they intended to leave Portsmouth the very morning Charlotte was to report for duty aboard
Audacious.
Yet how could she decline such an invitation without a reasonable explanation? “I…I shall have to speak with my mother about it.”

Mr. Fairfax’s brown curls bobbed with his emphatic nod. “Yes, of course you will. We shan’t be leaving until Thursday morning, so there is ample time to make all the arrangements.”

An idea started to form in Charlotte’s mind. Because the Fairfaxes were to leave Portsmouth on Thursday, the same day Charles Lott
was to report for duty, Charlotte might be able to use the invitation to her advantage.

“Now, on to other orders of business.” Fairfax grabbed the hem of his waistcoat and gave it a tug. “Miss Ransome, I believe I have the honor of your hand for the first set.” He extended his arm toward her.

With a grin, Charlotte rested her hand atop his sleeve. “No, Mr. Fairfax, the honor is all mine.”

The crowd already gathered in the middle of the ballroom parted before Charlotte and Percy, making her feel, even just for the tiniest moment, what Princess Charlotte Augusta must feel whenever she walked into a room. But unlike the Prince Regent’s only child, Charlotte Ransome would, after tonight, return to being just a common sailor’s daughter.

She caught a giggle in the back of her throat. Actually, not too much longer after tonight, she’d become just a common midshipman. Her gaze darted about the room from her position of honor to lead off the dance.

So many naval officers here tonight—ah, there by the door to the conservatory. Ned Cochrane carried on a lively conversation with another officer. The other man turned, and Charlotte gasped. Avoiding Ned tonight would be important; avoiding Lieutenant Howe, first officer of
Audacious,
would be vital.

The music started. Percy’s bow caught her attention, and Charlotte dropped into a curtsey just in time and then reached out to place her hand in his.

Though distracted by a constant awareness of Ned Cochrane’s presence, and the idea he might be watching her, Charlotte acquitted herself quite well in the intricate steps…and in receiving Percy Fairfax’s flirtatious remarks.

After the first dance ended and Charlotte once again took her place opposite Mr. Fairfax for the second dance of the set, a flutter amongst the other dancers made her look around again. At the other end of the columns of men and women, William and Julia took their places.

“I see Mrs. William Ransome gets to participate tonight instead of being relegated to providing accompaniment.”

“She is an accomplished pianist.” Charlotte stepped toward Percy, curtseyed, stepped back again, and then started a circuit around him. “But she is also a lovely dancer. Better than I.”

“A woman dancing with her beloved is the most graceful creature in the world.”

Charlotte snapped her gaze to Percy. Surely he did not think…but he still looked in William and Julia’s direction. She hoped Percy would not be foolish enough to develop feelings for her.

“My mother told me something interesting today concerning your brother and sister.” Percy looked down at Charlotte as they wove around the dancers currently standing in lines, awaiting their turn.

“What? Do tell.”

But no sooner had she spoken than the figures of the dance separated them—sending them to now stand several feet apart, facing each other, unable to talk as others danced around them.

Charlotte had a weakness for gossip, which made the Fairfaxes perfect companions, as they always knew the latest. They never passed it along in malice, but only in fun to make good conversation.