Authors: Marie Lavender
However, there was no harm in thinking.
“There are advantages and disadvantages to this kind of reflection,” she heard Eric observe.
She laughed, appalled that she had been silent that long. It wasn't often she had the time to reflect on anything. It was odd that she had felt free to do so aboard Grant's ship. “I'm sorry. I did not miss anything, did I?”
“Nothing important,
Mademoiselle
.”
“I am relieved to hear it. I do hope you are not disappointed.”
“Not at all.”
So it seemed he knew his place in several ways, yet still acted as more of a confidante to Grant Hill. It was a strange relationship. “How long have you been under the employ of your captain?”
He looked over at her, a wide-eyed look on his face. Then suddenly his lashes swept down, hiding whatever it was he wished her not to see. “It is a story that would most likely bore you,
Mademoiselle
.”
“I do not mind. I would like to know.” She knew little about Grant and clamored for more. It was also a widely known fact that most servants had a knack for tattling about their employers.
“I have worked for
Capitaine
Hill for many years, but I have been his friend for much longer.”
“Oh?” It wasn't often that a man chose a companion as his valet. “How did you meet then?”
“My master, at the time, was not the most honorable of men. He was a scoundrel to say the least. It is not as if I needed saving. I knew my way around the elements, but I served the man nonetheless. I knew my place. I was not supposed to question my master. The captain was in town often to trade and upon many occasions had called the man out about his treatment of us.
“You see, I wasn't the only one subjected to the man's wrath. There were women and children working under him as well. As you know, a man cannot be challenged based on his behavior toward his servants, but my master was not without his other vices. There was gambling and…” He stopped with a look of wariness as if suddenly aware of his audience.
“Yes?”
“Debauchery of the worst kind.
Capitaine
Hill used every means he could think of to expose my master's true nature, and before long my master left town, his reputation effectively destroyed. And of course, a man without money cannot afford to pay his servants so we were left behind.”
“So you were indebted to the captain for his interference.”
“Perhaps, but there was more. He kept coming back around to see if conditions improved. He kept telling me he would help. He promised he would. And he did.”
“What happened after your master left?”
“
Capitaine
Hill told me I could be a free man if I wished it. He could find a better position for me if I wanted it. I told him I had nothing to go back to. My family had all passed on years before and I couldn't see myself as a wealthy man, or apprenticing for a long period of time, or some such nonsense. I had no idea what I was suited for either. I had always served under someone. He said if I wished, I could shadow him for a while to see if anything caught my interest. There were many positions with the crew, or even in trade there were possibilities.
“On one occasion, the merchant we were dealing with tried to cheat us out of our share. He pulled a gun on Grant and would have killed him had I not intervened.
Capitaine
Hill would make me out to be the hero if he told it, but it was simple. He had become a good friend and I feared for his life. That's all.
“Afterward, he told me I'd earned all of his trust and respect and that I could leave if I truly wanted my freedom. For the first time in my life, I was allowed to choose for myself the kind of life I wished for. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I decided to stay though, and I don't regret it. I made my choice based on my own desires.
“When the captain gained greater status in society, he presented me with the option of being his valet. He said regrettably a gentleman must have an aide to do the things he'd rather do himself. Of course, a lot of things
Capitaine
Hill still does for himself. He defies society to a point always.”
She'd already noticed that about the man. “It is honorable that he allowed himself to befriend you as well.”
“There was more to it than it seems,
petite
. I like to think that fate had a hand in it, that destiny brought us to that point in time and forged the bond we now acknowledge as friendship, not unlike the same power that drew you and the captain to one another last night.”
“Oh, such idealism, Eric.
Capitaine
Hill was simply in the right place at the right time.”
He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “There are no accidents in life,
Mademoiselle
. Only fate.”
She did not reply, but part of her agreed with him. She had always believed in destiny, certain a stronger force existed that controlled the universe and its occurrences. Had something caused her to meet Grant Hill, or was it simply chance? She didn't know.
As the sun rose high, blessing her face with its splendor, she thought of the unbreakable bond of friendship she'd not only witnessed but heard Eric speak of in reference to his employer. What would it have been like if she had formed a true affinity with a servant in the same manner as Grant and Eric's?
Her relationship with Rosalie was the closest she had ever come to such a thing. Propriety and social awareness had prevented her from showing anything more.
She had felt more, much more for Rosalie. Indeed, she would describe it as something very akin to friendship, but she could not express such due to their different positions. Friends were made within the same social circles. That's how it was.
Deep down she knew otherwise. True emotions were not bound by social hierarchy but forged through connections. Eric and Grant had been lucky in forming such a bond. Custom might dictate that a person's title carry more importance than true and honest feelings. However, love -- either romantic or platonic -- wasn't subject to such custom. If love was real, it could not be broken. She'd always held out this hope for
herself that no matter what happened, despite the obstacles, she would find that affinity with another human being. Love would prevail because it was beyond status, or pride, or anything people might use to deny it.
However abstract, love was infinite and she would find it. Of that, she knew.
“
Mademoiselle
!” A boy rushed up to them. “A carriage has arrived. The driver says he is Pierre.”
Fara's stomach sank. “He works for my uncle. It seems he wishes my return. Eric, it is time you tell your captain I must leave.”
He nodded and left to find his master.
Fara shook her head desolately. This, too, was predictable. Things would return to normal as soon as she entered the house. Her uncle would not be happy with her absence either. It was not proper. It was very tiresome to always be so careful.
“I hear you're leaving us.”
She turned to see Grant approach her. “Yes, my uncle has sent transportation.”
“It's a pity. I would have kept you longer.”
“Oh?” Alarm ran along the back of her neck and raised the hairs in some kind of strange anticipation. What did he mean by that?
“
Oui
. I'm sorry I was away so long. The business of being a captain has its moments of tedium.”
“That's all right. Every position has its disadvantages.”
He then took her by the hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you,
Mademoiselle
.”
“Likewise,
Capitaine
.”
“Your carriage awaits, my lady.” He gestured to the vehicle waiting down below at the dock.
She nodded, barely glancing at her uncle's property, and looked up at him. His face relaxed into an expression of contentment, and she wondered if her departure was the source of it. Had she given him cause to want to be rid of her? The prospect didn't seem fair for she'd never been anything more than herself. Hadn't he just expressed otherwise?
Fara chastised herself. He was a captain of a ship. His opinion should not matter to her at all -- but strangely it did, and she couldn't find a reason for it.
She cleared her throat to cease the silence. “I regret to say I never quite thanked you for your most timely interference last night.”
He grinned. “I think your show of gratitude this morning was quite enough. I require no more,
Mademoiselle
.”
She flushed scarlet beneath his captivating gaze. No doubt he referred to that morning, when she awakened in his arms. Like a lady, she should have apologized profusely and probably should still for acting so familiar with a man, but she was certain he would not accept it.
“Nevertheless,
Capitaine
, I am grateful for you truly spared me humiliation, if you understand my meaning.”
He nodded. “I do. But, I suggest you forget the ordeal. They were rogues intent on doing any manner of harm possible, and it is just fortunate you got away.”
“You are too humble,
Capitaine
.”
He shook his head. “Now, Fara, I am sure you must attend to your duties as I must to mine.” He grasped for her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Perhaps we will meet again,
Mademoiselle
...”
Like a perfect gentleman, she thought, and was grateful he hadn't done something impulsive.
“
Oui
,
Monsieur
. Perhaps we will. I bid you farewell,
Capitaine
Hill.”
He released her hand, and she turned to go, but with a sudden tight grasp of her wrist, he reeled her back. Crushing her against the wall of his chest, Grant covered her lips with his. It was too late to pull away for he held her against him and Fara was lost in the sensation of his kiss.
Lord, if she'd found the man aesthetically pleasing, his kiss was so much more. She parted her lips on a sigh as he burned her, igniting a fire deep inside in her body.
She had no time to respond to him completely though. Before she knew it, he'd set her away from him. Gasping for breath, she searched his eyes, expecting to see something akin to triumph. There was only brightness. The deep and dark charcoal she'd witnessed before turned soft and subtle, appearing as the land when the sun comes up and light spills to the ground, staining every surface and contour.
Fara cleared her throat again, aware that propriety should have mandated she slap him, but she couldn't muster the will to do it. “Goodbye, Grant,” she whispered as she made her way down the gangway to the ground below. Pierre assisted her into the carriage and she turned to stare up at the tall figure of Grant Hill. She wondered if he really was pleased to see her go. Certainly a kiss like that could only mean the opposite.
* * * *
Grant frowned. He hadn't been able to resist kissing her, but the main reason for doing so was to see if he could rouse her to anger in a way that repulsed her to the degree she never wanted to look at him again. She had not been angry, only shocked.
He grinned to himself. It seemed she was a lady, for passion was a new feeling for her. He also knew she couldn't deny their physical attraction for one another. For all her cutting words due to her wounded pride, the woman wanted him regardless of what society might say. The look in her eyes and the way she responded to his kiss told him everything.
He wondered how her uncle would respond to what had happened to his niece the previous night. From time to time he participated in higher social circles, and he'd heard stories there. Michel
de
Bellamont was not a man many people could win over. He was harsh and very serious with his acquaintances and business partners, and Grant could only assume that carried over into his relationship with Fara. Being a blood relative made no difference.
Though France was mainly Catholic in its beliefs, it was a country where people from many backgrounds merged, exchanging ideas and entertaining new forms of thought. At least, for the most part.
On the other hand, Michel de Bellamont's position, he had heard, stemmed from his harsh Catholic background and his deep social awareness. He was an impenetrable kind of man; Grant's sources had given him that much information.
From what he knew of Michel de Bellamont, the man reminded him much of his own father.
He’d come from a mixed background. His father, an Englishman, had met his mother, a young French woman straight from the convent, while on a tour of duty as a lieutenant for the British army.
His family lived in England until, at a tender age, he lost both parents to a bout of cholera. Up
to that point in his life, he had been partial to his mother for she had doted on him immensely. His father seemed indifferent, viewing his son as a hindrance to his lifestyle with the military and his social position.
Unfortunately, he was too young when his parents died and could not take over his family's title or estate.