Authors: Laura Landon
“He’d be proud of her, the
Abigail Rose
. She’s a beauty.”
“I know. I’d hoped he’d live long enough to see her. Owning a clipper was his lifelong dream.”
The broad-shouldered man nodded, and Ethan swore he saw a glimmer in his eyes, too.
“We’ll sail her just like he intended, Abby. Just like he would have himself.”
Abigail nodded.
Ethan stepped forward. His blood surged hot. A warning.
The captain just called her Abby.
“Mr. Cambridge,” she said, clearing her voice. “I’m pleased to introduce Captain James Fenimore Parker. Fenny, Mr. Ethan Cambridge.”
Ethan looked up at the tall, overpowering sea captain. He tried to disguise his shock, but knew he’d failed. The broad grin on Abigail’s face told him as much. He gave her his most ferocious frown.
She put a gloved hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “The look on your face, Mr. Cambridge, was worth the wait.”
Ethan took the man’s hand and shook it, then dropped his head back on his shoulders and laughed.
Meeting doddering old Fenny was indeed a hilarious surprise. He should be angry with her for teasing him, but he wasn’t. Instead, he wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her. And claim her as his own. And he knew the reason why.
Doddering old Fenny, who’d called her Abby in a most familiar way, was still holding her hand.
“She’s the only person to ever call me that and live to tell about it,” Captain James Parker said with a warning frown that made her laugh. “My mother had a fondness for anything written by the novelist James Fenimore Cooper and named me after him. Abby discovered my middle name when we were young and has used it to blackmail me ever since.”
“The two of you knew each other when you were young?”
Abigail heard a twinge of something akin to envy in Ethan’s voice. “We grew up together,” she said.
“Not exactly together,” Parker corrected. “My father captained one of Lord Langdon’s ships. His ship went down around the Cape during a monsoon. When my mother died of typhoid a year later, Lord Langdon found me a home with one of his captains. I spent my youth with the sailors here on the docks. The pest,” he said, casting a glance in Abigail’s direction, “came ’round with her father nearly every day. She was like a shadow no one could escape. She nearly drove us all mad.”
Abigail gave him a good-natured shove he accepted with a grin, which brightened his tanned face, a face Abigail had always considered handsome. The look in Ethan’s eyes hardened.
“Would you like to take a tour of the
Abigail Rose
,” James asked, taking note of where Ethan had placed his hand. “Or should we get down to the reason you’re here?”
“We’ll tour the ship first,” Ethan said, more as a command. “Miss Langdon has been dying to see her namesake.”
“And you haven’t?” she asked, giving him a smiling glance beneath lifted brows.
He relaxed. “I admit it. I have, too.”
“Then we’ll tour the
Abigail Rose
first,” Captain Parker said, then led the way to the door.
Abigail took Ethan’s proffered arm with a relaxed ease she found reassuring. They had this in common at least: the ships, and their love of the sea.
Ethan asked Fenny about every aspect of Langdon Shipping, while Abigail listened. He wanted to know about the goods they shipped, the ports where they were loaded, and the routes the ships took to get to and from London. He absorbed every detail with relentless tenacity, firing one question at Fenny after another, until the beautiful clipper ship with its three towering masts came into view before them.
He stopped to stare at the sight in awestruck wonder. So did she. “Your father would have been proud,” Fenny said.
“Yes, he would have,” she sighed.
“Has she been tested for speed?” Ethan asked. His look of admiration was plain.
“Not with a full load,” Fenny answered, “but she’ll average fifteen knots easy.”
Ethan stayed focused on the
Abigail Rose
as he put pressure on Abigail’s elbow to usher her toward the clipper. The moment they stepped aboard, a change came over her, a change more startling than she’d experienced any time before when she stepped aboard one of her father’s ships. She could barely contain the excitement that engulfed her.
Ethan’s eyes mirrored that same excitement, the vibrant exhilaration and powerful anticipation of what it would be like to feel such a magnificent vessel flying through the wind with the waves smashing beneath you.
She and Ethan walked in reverent admiration as Fenny gave them a detailed tour, covering every inch of the clipper from the captain’s stateroom, to the officers’ quarters, to the carpenter’s shop. From the galley to the lower deck and the hold where the chests of tea would be stored. There was even a pigpen and a chicken coop, for fresh meat and eggs, and a forward hatch, a booby hatch, and a main hatch that led below.
Abigail took in everything, rubbing her hand along the polished wood railings and the shiny brass trim. Her father would have been so proud.
She breathed a painful sigh and was thankful when Ethan stopped to examine the deck winch and Fenny was called aside by his first mate. She needed time to herself.
She leaned against the starboard railing and looked out to the open water. She didn’t know how long she’d been there before Ethan came up beside her.
“You love the sea, don’t you,” he said, catching her staring out at the endless strand of blue-gray water that would carry her ships to the open sea.
“Yes,” she whispered on a sigh. “My father’s legacy to me. It’s such a humbling yet powerful force. One moment the clouds roll by in such carefree abandon you feel you can reach out and touch them. The next, they gather like a rebellious crowd and stir the waves and whip the wind with vicious ferocity, striking out to destroy everything in their path. The sea’s power is frightening, yet awesome.”
“And yet you love it?” he asked, smiling up at the clouds floating by, as if he understood exactly what she meant.
“I could be content to spend my life living where the sea met me at my back door.”
“The plantation I own is like that. It’s a paradise, surrounded by water and untouched by crowds. A place where the days are magnificent, the nights enchanting. It promises a life as perfect as anywhere on earth.”
“How could you leave it to come here?”
He tightened his grip around the polished wood railing. “I had little choice. I received a letter from Sydney Craddock I couldn’t ignore. It seems a number of Stephen’s creditors had been holding off foreclosure because of his promised marriage to you. When he absconded without your dowry, they panicked. Stephen was about to lose everything.”
Ethan turned to look at her. “I received a report this morning from one of the runners I have looking for Stephen, a Mr. Walker. He is on his way home with news concerning Stephen. News too confidential to put in writing.”
He had to reach out to steady her. Her knees buckled beneath her while the blood rushed from her head, spinning the world around her.
“Abby?” He kept his arm fastened around her waist. “Take a deep breath.”
She took in several, but it didn’t help. It would only be a matter of weeks before Ethan would know the truth.
Terror consumed her. A fear she struggled to control. Someone knew. Someone knew Stephen was dead. Perhaps they even knew she had killed him.
She braced her shoulders and took a step away from him. “Did this Mr. Walker say any more?”
“No. Only that he would inform me of everything when he returned to England. He evidently found Stephen and knows his whereabouts. Perhaps he will bring him home with him.”
There is nothing to bring home
, she thought, fighting the wave of panic that made her gasp for air.
“Once Stephen returns, everything will be back to normal. In a few weeks, you and I will be married and can go to my island. I would like for you to see my plantation before I must set sail for Australia.”
A cold dread fell over her. “No. You cannot expect me to go with you. The purpose for marrying you is to keep Fallen Oaks. Not to leave it.”
“You will keep Fallen Oaks. That is why we are marrying, so I can use the profits from the shipments of tea and wool to keep your estate.”
She shook her head. “I have no intention of leaving.”
“It won’t be forever. Only for a while. Then we’ll return.”
The more he said, the less in control she felt. She needed the deed to Fallen Oaks in her hands. She needed to go home where she would be safe, and hold little Mary Rose in her arms. She needed to get ready for when Mr. Walker returned and Ethan found out what she’d done.
Abigail’s legs trembled beneath her. She’d never been so frightened in her life. Not since…
“I am going home, back to Fallen Oaks,” she said, struggling to keep her composure.
“We will soon.”
“No. You may stay in London if you like, but I’m going home.”
“We will speak of this later.”
“Abby?” Captain Parker’s voice echoed from behind them.
Abby turned her head and found herself staring into the murderous look of a friend bent on protecting her from a man he wasn’t sure he should trust. Ethan stiffened when he saw the look on Fenny’s face.
“Are you all right?” His lips pursed into a tight line, his jaw clenched in angry concern.
She tried to smile. “Yes, Fenny. I’m fine. I was just a little overwrought for a moment. It is not as easy as I supposed to come aboard the ship Father dreamed for so long of sailing and realize he never will.”
Fenny relaxed, and he released a deep breath. “Ah, Abby. I’m sorry. I should have known how hard this would be for you.”
“As should I,” Ethan said. “Perhaps we should finish our business and go.”
“Yes, please,” she agreed.
Ethan led her toward the gangplank, and they made their way back to the office.
“Why don’t you wait for me in the carriage,” Ethan suggested, motioning for Bundy to come for her. “I have some details to discuss with Captain Parker. It won’t take us but a moment.”
Abigail nodded, then walked with Bundy to the waiting carriage. Every muscle in her body trembled with indecision and fear. She’d been such a fool, such a thickheaded idiot. How could she have thought what she had done would not catch up with her? She should have known agreeing to marry Ethan would not protect Mary Rose, but would increase the risk of losing her.
Her breath caught in her throat. Once he discovered all she’d done, the list of reasons for him to hate her would be too numerous to count. Even the ships would not be reason enough to want her.
Her steps faltered, and Bundy held out his hand to steady her. She should have done what she’d planned from the start. She should have demanded he accept her offer of the ships in exchange for Fallen Oaks. But he’d given her no choice. He’d threatened to take her away from Fallen Oaks that very day. How could she have left without taking Mary Rose with her?
Abigail leaned back against the soft leather seat of the carriage and cursed her father for writing the letter that had brought Ethan to her.
And she cursed her traitorous body for wanting something she could never have.
. . .
Ethan closed the door to the Langdon Shipping office and turned to face Captain Parker. The dark look in the captain’s eyes hinted at a temper that smoldered beneath the surface. His hard countenance established him as a formidable opponent.
“I intend to speak openly and frankly, Captain Parker. I expect you to do the same.”
James Parker walked to a heavily marred wooden cabinet in the corner of the room and opened a small door at the side to pull out a half-full bottle of whisky. “Very well,” he said, pouring a generous amount into two glasses and handing one to Ethan. “Then perhaps you would begin by explaining your intentions toward Miss Langdon.” He sat down behind his desk and leveled Ethan with a glare as hard as the tone of his voice.
“I’m going to marry her.”
Parker’s glass halted midway to his mouth. “Does Miss Langdon know this?”
“Yes.”
“And she agreed?”
“Reluctantly, but yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I possess the deed to Fallen Oaks.”
“You bastard.”
“Perhaps. The marriage was not originally what I intended. Her father left her Langdon Shipping, as you are well aware, and a cousin she had never met inherited Fallen Oaks. I acquired it. The easiest solution would have been an exchange of properties, which is what Abigail wanted. But Fallen Oaks can never support itself. In a year—two at the most—Abigail would be forced to sell off small portions of the property to keep out of debt. In time, she would become destitute without a home in which to live. Marriage is a solution which benefits us both.”
“So now, upon your marriage, you will not only have Langdon Shipping and Fallen Oaks, but a beautiful bride in the bargain.”
“Yes. I will have it all.”
“And what will Abigail have?”
“She will have a husband who will always care for her, a life where she will want for nothing, plus the assurance that Fallen Oaks will always remain hers.” Ethan leaned back in his chair and took a long swallow of the excellent whiskey. “And now, Captain Parker, I would like to ask you a question. Just what is your relationship with Miss Langdon? Unless I’m mistaken, your feelings for her are stronger than those of mere friendship.”
“I love Abby. I always have. But she doesn’t love me. We’ve been friends too long for her to consider me as anything more.”
Ethan looked at the honesty in Captain Parker’s eyes. And the loss. To love, knowing that affection would only be returned as a deep friendship, was a torture all its own.
The captain took a swallow of his whiskey, then set the glass down before him on the desk. “I won’t let you hurt her, Cambridge. Your brother did enough of that to last a lifetime.”
Ethan’s grip tightened around the glass in his hand. “What do you know of the night Stephen left?”
Captain Parker didn’t flinch, but kept his hardened eyes riveted on Ethan’s face. “Only Abigail knows the answer to that question.”