Victoria And James

Chapter 1 London, 1816 The boards beneath her were slippery and seemed to be covered with some sort of slimy substance which she decided not to investigate. Who would have thought the ship would have places like this with its spotless deck, she thought, slightly disgusted. The only reason she was there was because she had a good view of the captain’s cabin and would be able to get in quickly once he left, grab the deed and leave. Captain James Ardsley was about to get a very nasty shock, she thought wryly as she moved about to relieve the cramp in her leg. If only he would hurry up, she could leave and get out of this rat hole. As though in response to her thoughts, something scurried across the floor and she felt a shiver of revulsion. She was starting to consider abandoning her quest when the captain’s door finally opened and out walked James Ardsley. In dark brown breeches that stretched around his well muscled thighs and a white cotton shirt opened to reveal dark curling hairs, he almost looked like a commoner. But even if Victoria hadn’t known of his noble lineage, she would never have mistaken him for merely a commoner. He was tall, six feet three at the least and with his height he carried with him an aura of strength and command. His raven locks were windswept and gave him a rakish and yet boyish charm. There was nothing boyish about his face though. Even now when he was so obviously relaxed, the hard lines that defined his face told of a stern man with an insuperable character. He walked with an easy gait that oddly reminded her of a lion on the prowl. She shook the thought away, however, waited till he was out of sight then crept out of her hiding place, wincing slightly at the pain in her legs. She had hardly taken two steps when she felt a vise-like grip clamp painfully on her arm. She turned reluctantly and found herself face-to-face with the arrogant unsmiling face of Captain Ardsley. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here.” She asked, trying in vain to smile even as his gray eyes bored through her. His eyes are like pools of melted steel. “The thought did cross my mind.” His voice was low and menacing and Victoria felt a chill run up her spine. “It’s actually a very boring story…very long too.” “I have a penchant for long and boring stories.” “Well then…if you would just let go of me, I would be happy to tell you. It’s very uncomfortable, you see as I’m not used to the attentions of the stronger sex…being an innocent…” She had been trying to pull herself away from him while she said this but, at the look of amusement and the supercilious eyebrow he had raised at the suggestion that she was an innocent, she stopped. There was no way this man was going to be swayed by her coy words so she might as well try another tactic. Raising her knee she kicked him right between the legs. He released her instantly and she bolted, not bothering to check if

he had doubled over in pain or if he was right behind her. She ran down the gangplank, onto the dock and disappeared among the throng of people milling around. xx She found herself in a narrow alley when she stopped to catch her breath. Pulling out a pocket watch she grimaced; Dixon was going to furious. She could just imagine him telling people his fiancée was indisposed so she could not attend her own soiree but wished for everyone to enjoy themselves in her absence. Well something like that anyhow. She smiled at the thought, already inventing an excuse he would readily accept. Why on earth had she decided to do this for Angela? Damn and Blast! She hadn’t even retrieved the stupid thing she thought, angrily. It was all that oafs’ fault; why did he have to stop her midway? Thinking of him reminded her of the unexpected thrill she’d felt when he had held her. She felt her face heat up and mentally shook herself, taking in calming breaths of air. Ardsley out of her mind, her thoughts turned to her current position. And what was she supposed to do now? She thought, angry at herself for doing something so very reckless, even by her standards, as journeying unaccompanied into the depths of London. Calm down, Vi, you’ve been in worse situations. Asking yourself these questions isn’t going to help matters. When in trouble, she was wont to talk to herself as a mother would a child. As always, it made her worries seem easy to deal with and as always a plan immediately began to form in her mind. She examined her surroundings, absently turning the watch in her hands, and wondered if any carriages were likely to come by. Deciding in the negative, she moved out of the alley and began walking toward a tavern where she hoped to find someone who would tell her where to get a carriage to Cavendish Square. She stood at the tavern door and braced herself even as she was glad it was still daytime and the place was quiet. It was a dismal place to be sure but there were still a few people scattered among the chairs and tables. She went straight to a pleasantly plump woman who was cleaning the inside of a glass with a rag. Trying not to focus on the glass which was steadily getting dirtier, Victoria sat at the bar and asked for a shot of watered down whiskey. Saying nothing, the woman retrieved a thankfully clean glass and turning, did something with a barrel behind her. When she turned back, she placed the glass, now filled with an amber liquid, on the table. Victoria reached for the glass but the woman stopped her. “Money first; I’m not running a soup kitchen.” Victoria felt the blush rise up her cheeks but reached into the pocket of her dress and retrieved what she thought was a suitable amount for the drink. Thankful she had thought to bring some money, she handed the currency to the woman who returned more than half of it and went back to the glass she was cleaning. As Victoria put the glass to her lips and sipped the slightly searing liquid, she wondered, idly, whether the glass cleaning was a ploy to be able to watch customers without seeming to. Putting the glass down, she asked lightly, “Do you know where I can find a carriage?” The woman didn’t answer and Vi, unsure if she had heard her, asked again a little louder.

“Not here you won’t.” Glad to have finally been answered, Victoria ignored the fact that this answer was hardly relevant. “Well do you know where I can find one?” Raising her voice, the woman yelled to a young man lounging in a chair near the empty fireplace. “Charlie! This lady here wants a carriage. Take her where she can find one and mind you don’t hang about on the way back.” She turned back to Victoria and said, “Go with him, he’ll take you to the place.” “Thank you so much.” Victoria said and, leaving her glass half finished, jumped off the stool and followed the gangly lad who couldn’t have been more than fourteen. He walked without saying anything to her but at a pace she could follow. “I’m sorry to have to bother you like this but I really must get home.” He grunted in reply so she decided not to say anything else. xx Victoria, curled up in her bed with the covers surrounding her, wrote furiously in her journal. Feelings of anger, hurt and some guilt jostled within her as she poured the events of the day into the book. In all her life she had not felt such a hatred for the male population as she did now. x When she arrived at the house, it was deathly quiet and she felt the first tendrils of fear and guilt coil themselves into cold snakes and lie in her stomach. She didn’t bother to go to her room and change the servants’ clothes which she had borrowed that morning but went straight to the drawing room where Gilbert, the ageing but stoic butler, had said her father was. She hadn’t expected Dixon to still be there but there he was, pacing furiously across the plush carpet. He spun angrily to face her, his lank hair flopping wildly and demanded. “Where have you been?!” She ignored Dixon who looked apoplectic and went to her father who was seated beside the fireplace. Kissing him on the cheek, she said, “Good evening, father. I trust you weren’t too worried about me today.” “Victoria dear where have you been?” Her father asked quietly as though he had resigned himself to her brand of madness. A sad smile graced his features and she knew he wasn’t truly angry only worried.

“And why are you dressed like a servant?” Dixon’s voice was like metal on concrete to her ears. She sighed, still looking at her father. His blue eyes which she had inherited told her to get Dixon to leave. She gave him a comprehending look in return and turned to Dixon. She put on her sweetest smile and walked right up to him. “My lord, I truly am sorry for distressing you…” “Are you really, Victoria or are you merely trying to ruin my reputation?” He asked in a low, malevolent voice. His reputation was what he was worried about. He wouldn’t want his name associated with any scandal she might bring, she thought, disgusted. “I’m dreadfully sorry then. Your reputation must be protected.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice as she said this and watched him turn purple then stark white. His hands were clenched into fists and Victoria knew he only restrained himself because of her father. “When we are married, Victoria, I shall curb that unruly tongue of yours.” With that he turned and stomped out of the room. Victoria stood there for awhile and came to the decision that she could never marry Dixon. His pale, lean countenance twisted in anger repulsed her and the very thought of committing herself to him was ludicrous. He had seemed so…so quiet and…she admitted guiltily that Dixon had indeed seemed quite easy to control. She would not have a husband who would keep her under his thumb. She turned back to her father trying to forget Dixon. “Come sit by me Victoria and tell me of your day.” She went, sat in the seat opposite him but said nothing as they both watched the dancing flames in the marble fire place. “If I told you where I’ve been, you would only worry yourself. It was an interesting adventure but I would rather not recount the events of today.” “As long as you’re safe, darling.” x Victoria closed the journal with a smile; only her father would not press for answers. She’d come up after they had talked of other things including the party she had missed and had felt light-hearted until she got back into her room and remembered Dixon. Her anger had returned and then so had the sudden memory of a man she only now realized she had been comparing him to: Captain James Ardsley.

Chapter 2 Almacks, London, 1816 Lady Victoria Eden sat with the other debutantes and only a strong sense of propriety kept her from yawning. The only reason, in fact, that she was among the tittering ladies was her need to avoid Dixon. All through yesterday, he had attempted to see her but she had always been either indisposed or resting her exhausted self. She held an untouched glass of lemonade at the stem and listened passively to the conversation going on around her. It was mostly nonsense about some lord who, rumor had it, was in search of a wife or something along those lines. Talk of scandal, never actually far from the ears of the debutantes, was left to the mamas of the ton. It was perhaps the sudden silence that brought Victoria back to the room. The silence was followed by shocked whispers which all defeated their purpose. Following the gaze of a dazed debutante beside her, Victoria found herself looking at the man who had been occupying her thoughts since the day before last. She felt a jolt of something unfamiliar run through her when she took in the handsomely urbane image he presented in his black evening dress. His ruffled shirt and cravat were pristine against the black and even from the distance she spied the twinkling of what was unmistakably a diamond in the white folds at his neck. Hoping he had not noticed her as he scanned the hall from the wide staircase, she let herself be led by the throng of young ladies who were headed for the powder rooms. Talk in the powder room was all of Lord James Ardsley, Earl of Thornton, Viscount Berkley, Viscount Scarborough and Baron of Oakridge who for unknown reasons was suddenly in Almacks. “Do you think he’s looking for a wife?” cried one eager debutante. “I think he’s an irrepressible rake.” “Then why are you here primping yourself.” “I’m only here because my mother would have been sure to try to introduce me to him and I couldn’t have been able to resist throwing a glass of wine in his face.” “You wouldn’t! You’d be more likely to swoon at his feet.” “I would not!” “He’s probably gone. With all of you in here.” These last words were Victoria’s and the response was instantaneous as all the debutantes tried to leave at the same time. Only Victoria and Ellen Birmingham the one debutante who had spoken against the Earl were left in the room. “I simply can not stand him.” She said vehemently. “What do they see in the arrogant cad?”

He’s outrageously handsome, wealthy and titled. Victoria thought but did not voice her opinion as she herself wondered how Lord Ardsley had suddenly become synonymous with handsome in her mind. “Please don’t tell me you too are affected by him.” Victoria looked at the girl for a moment then stood up. “Of course not; I’m engaged.” With that she left the powder room but avoided the ball room and opted for the garden instead. The cool evening air was exhilarating and she stood unmoving for a while to enjoy the sheer beauty of it. Unbeknownst to her, she was being observed by a dark clad, gray eyed earl. James Ardsley watched Victoria and battled the desire to reveal himself. She was exquisite and in the light from the house, surrounded by flowers, she looked like a goddess. Her ebony hair floated down her back in curling rivulets and in the night, her skin was like porcelain. Her gown, a midnight blue that accentuated her eyes, hugged her voluptuous curves and turned her from angel to sprite and back again. His body responded and he struggled to control himself as he stood. “Good Evening.” She jerked back as though stung then gasped as she realized who her watcher was. “Good evening, Lord Ardsley. I trust you suffered no side effects from our last encounter.” She was glad her dry humor had remainded and was efficacious in hiding the teeming emotions within her. A slow, breathtaking smile crept across his face as he acknowledged the joke. “I shall live. I still wonder, though, what a lady should be doing on my ship.” His words and close proximity reminded her that this man was dangerous. Not only to her senses but truly dangerous to her person. “I really should return to the ballroom…my father might be wondering where I am.” “Not,” he said taking her arm, even as she protested, and leading her into the depths of the garden. “Until you tell me why you were on my ship. I’m not a fool, despite what you might think and you’d be sorely mistaken if you think for a second I intend to let you go before I get answers.”

“Let go of me!” She whispered angrily, trying to tug herself free of his grip. She looked around anxiously, hoping no one would think to enjoy the night air as she had. “Do you realize my reputation would be damaged if anyone were to see us here?” He didn’t stop walking though and threw his answer over his shoulder. “I have serious doubts as to whether a lady such as yourself would have much of a reputation to be damaged.” “How dare you! You of all people have no right to question my character.” He spun around then and Victoria almost wished he had kept walking. “And why, pray tell, is that? In case you’ve forgotten, I am the wronged person here. I could always take this up with your father if you refuse to give me the answers I want.” “He would never believe you.” “Are you so sure of that?” The implication of his words hit her; he would turn this into a scandal that would touch not only her but her father. Her father…why had he put such emphasis on the word? She dismissed it in lieu of her predicament. “You are no gentleman.” “I never claimed to be one. I only want to know why you were on my ship.” She sighed and looked down at the hand that enveloped hers. “If you…if you let go of me, I’ll tell you.” He looked at her for a long moment then slowly let her hand drop from his. Inwardly cursing herself she turned immediately and bolted, not bothering, once again, to see if he followed. James watched her run, slender ankles flashing as she raised the hem of her gown, then walked away in the opposite direction. His chaise was waiting for him at the front of the building and he entered it, making some indistinct sound in reply to the driver’s annoyingly cheery ‘good evening, my lord’. The horses set off at a brisk trot and James listened to the sound not really hearing it. He looked at his hand that tingled slightly and wondered, vaguely, why he had let her go. He’d known she would run but it had been almost painful to hold her hand and do naught else. He shook himself mentally; he hadn’t been with a woman for a while. That was the problem. The chit had nothing to do with it. He’d as soon strangle her than…no, that wasn’t entirely true. She was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. Then again she could be a thief or else have some extremely odd habits. No lady he knew would do what she had. She was doubtless some lord’s mistress. Her father indeed!

He leaned forward and told the driver to go to Ernsfield, the home of his current mistress, Louisa Marie Kolinsky. She was more than capable of satisfying his needs and now it seemed he had been neglecting her. It would be a going away present…for both of them. Now that he had left his investments in the capable hands of Edward Leicester, Viscount Fairfax, he could leave for the West Indies comfortable that he would not return bankrupt. He would tie up a few loose ends and cut some others off in the islands then he could return to England and…settle down? Perhaps he would find a wife and give his mother the grandchildren she craved. The thought of a wife forced a pair of aquamarine eyes in front of him and suddenly Louisa held little appeal. He wasn’t about to turn around though and leaned back into the comfortable dark green squabs of the seat with a sigh. xx “You’re distracted tonight. I can tell.” Louisa murmured in his ear as she played carelessly with his hair. “What’s wrong?” He raised his head and a quizzical eyebrow at her question. “Maybe you’d rather we talked?” She said nothing for a while but moved her finger toward his brow and attempted to smoothen it out. He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, sucking gently on her throbbing pulse. He let his tongue slide up her arm, over her shoulder. She leaned down into him as his mouth got closer to her breast. He was but an inch from that delectable endowment when he stopped and gently but firmly pushed her off him. He sat up and inwardly cursed. She was about to touch his back but he got up, walked over to a chair where his clothes were and began to throw them on jerkily. “What’s wrong, James?” She sighed with a practiced pout. He didn’t reply but walked up to the bed and placed a velvet box beside her foot. “It’s a going away present.” The words mocked him now. “Are you angry with me?” “No Louisa. I am not angry with you. I merely have to leave now.” His shirt buttoned, he grabbed his cravat, not bothering to tie it. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Goodbye love.” Straightening, he turned and walked briskly out the door not looking back once. A lucky thing perhaps for he might have seen her golden eyes fill with tears then overflow onto the pearl necklace he had given her. He’d never before left a woman unhappy. xx

James rummaged through the drawers in his study searching for the bottle of whiskey he kept solely for occasions such as these when he felt the need to imbibe. Self disgust and unsated desire urged him to drown out the world. Particularly if the world was populated by blue-eyed minxes with black hair that fell like waves…No! He needed to stop this madness. “Yes!” He found the bottle, covered by a document he had been perusing the night before. Not bothering with a glass, he threw himself into a chair and placed his legs on the table, one solid pillar on top of the other. He opened the bottle, downed a sizable amount then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He had never before come back from a visit to Louisa like this. It had been like drinking water without actually quenching his thirst. The fact that Louisa no longer satisfied his needs was neither here nor there; he would settle her handsomely. The burning question was why. He pushed away the one thought that kept surfacing in his mind as an answer and took another swig. Why did the brattling affect him so? And why, he thought angrily, wasn’t he getting so drunk he wouldn’t care either way? The fates were playing a cruel joke on him, surely. He wanted her. It was unadulterated lust. He could not have her. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He took a small sip of the drink and let it lie in his mouth for a second before swallowing. He was going to be three months at sea. This should be interesting, he thought, wryly, and then downed the rest of the bottle. His last conscious thought was of how much he would regret this night on the morrow. Chapter 3 Cavendish Square, London. 1816. Victoria sat in the morning room with a cup of tea in her hand. She didn’t feel the least bit thirsty and yet it was something to do. She wondered how she would tell Angela she hadn’t gotten the deed. She had known Angela Reed since she had been conscious enough to have friends and as they had grown, their friendship had strengthened. Angela was the daughter of a maid but when Victoria’s mother had died giving birth to her, her maid and equally close friend, Angela’s mother had undertaken the care of the motherless babe. Care which, no matter how hard he tried, her father could not truly give. He loved his daughter, though, and saw the benefits in her having a friend in her age group despite the oddness of such a relationship. The village children in Daubling, although constantly trying to seem friendly to Victoria, were too obviously riddled with jealousy for his and her comfort. Thus Angela had become Victoria’s only true friend. Victoria thought this over and tried to consider how her friend would react to the fact that she hadn’t been able to retrieve the deed. It was the deed to Angela’s mother’s house and had apparently been seized by ‘officials’ who worked for the Earl of Thornton. Angela, a grief-stricken Angela, who had only recently lost her mother, had poured the tale out to Victoria. The men had come asking for the rent and saying that it hadn’t been paid for the past eight months. This obvious lie had been their excuse to bodily remove Angela from her home. She’d said she had tried

to plead her case at the Earl’s mansion but had been unsuccessful in that she was turned away every time. Without the deed, she could not even prove the house belonged to her family and she certainly couldn’t get into the house. After offering her a place in the house which she gratefully accepted, Victoria recalled and voiced the fact that she knew of the Earl. That she knew he was the captain of a fleet of ships and that she knew he had recently been on a voyage. From the servants, she learnt that he often stayed on his ship for a prolonged period even after he docked and that documents of a delicate nature were brought to him there. The deed, evidence of the true ownership of the house, counted as being of a delicate nature to Victoria. The selfish, mendacious man would no doubt try to sell the building. But why would he do that? He had enough money to buy the Thames she’d heard. Perhaps his lands were mortgaged… no she’d asked her father about him and her father never divulged specific details about others unless they were completely true. She’d had to sound reasonably bored with his reply or he would doubtless have wanted to know why she cared. Mere curiosity from her never went quite well with him, she thought with a smile. Did the Earl have something against Angela? Her mother? It didn’t seem likely but what other reason did he have besides pure spite. And for whatever reason he’d done it he was, of course, going to go scott free. People like Angela, non-gentry, were hardly ever paid any attention by the courts and without the deed the poor girl had no proof. No. She would find a way to help her friend. Now it seemed silly that she had attempted something like that in broad daylight. It was her only mistake. All she had managed to do was get herself caught and her reputation nearly tarnished. Angela’s entrance brought her out of the morass that was her thoughts. Angela came in and as usual her shy demeanor was deceiving. With her long flaxen locks, now tucked under a starched white bonnet and her pretty blue eyes she had led astray many a stable boy and even some of the older hands. One might not notice it but Angela had a wild streak. She ran towards Victoria, who had stood up, with her face eager. “Did you get it?” “Now is that any way to talk to your mistress?” She said it playfully and put on a brilliant smile but she often wondered if Angela ought to act the way she did to her. Not that she minded but if any of the other servants thought Angela could get away with anything because she was the mistress’ friend, she might lose the respect she held among the staff and Angela might be treated with little more than contempt at being unable to get a position any other way. It was hard getting this message across to her friend, though and she had long since given up hope of achieving anything significant. “Stop hedging, Vi.” “Let’s sit down first. Would you like some tea?” “Victoria...”

“Fine. But sit down first.” Angela acquiesced but she looked impatient which had Victoria, oddly, feeling slightly angry. “I didn’t get it but it’s only because I was caught in the middle of my…Angela this is not anything to cry over. At least not now…I haven’t actually looked for it. I could still get it.” “It’s just that…I thought…I thought you would…be able to help.” The sentence, punctuated by sniffs, tore at Victoria’s heart. “I promised you I would do everything in my power to get it and I will. I’ll be sure to get it if I’m especially careful. Here, take this.” She handed her a handkerchief and watched Angela dab her eyes delicately. They both got up reluctantly, as though unwilling to end the moment of peace, and embraced. It was an awkward action that was a far cry from the familiar hugs of their younger years but it served as a reminder of their friendship and urged Victoria to give one last comforting ‘it will be alright’. When Angela left, Victoria didn’t return to her window seat but paced the floor thinking hard. What had she gotten herself into? Did she really intend to risk her life on that ship again? Why was it that she was always jumping into such absurd things? Why was she asking herself these questions when she ought to be planning how to get on and off the ship, this time unseen? Why was she so hesitant to help her best friend? Her only true friend…? But if she was found again there would be no telling the consequences. James Ardsley was one man she had no intention of crossing paths with again. You would only be doing the right thing. She wanted to both embrace that voice and push it away. Victoria, you reckless little fool, when will you learn to stay within your capabilities? xx James wasn’t sure how he had gotten to his bedroom but his pounding head made him appreciate the luxury of a comfortable bed. He had to get up soon, though, if he was to pay a visit to his mother, go over the accounts of the estate with his secretary and supervise the transfer of his personal items onto the Charleston. He sat up in his bed, wincing slightly just as Hanford, his valet, came in with a tray laden with tea things. "Good morning, my lord." James muttered darkly and indicated with a motion of his hand that the curtains should remain drawn. Turning from them, Hanford approached the bed with the tea. He set the tray on a bedside table and poured the dark liquid into the finely crafted china. James accepted the cup and took a scalding sip. "How's your mother, Hanford? I hope the winter went well with her." "Very well, my lord. She thanks you for your kindness in sending the logs."

"Tell her not to worry over that." He said with a wave of his hand. "Mothers are such wonderful creatures, are they not?" "Yes, sir. Quite. How does yours fare?" "Very well indeed. I'm going to see her today so could you set out something gray or dark blue. She's been asking me to visit for a while. I suppose I should acquiesce." "Yes, my lord, I suppose you should." "Hanford, I know you've told me this before so you needn't try to make me feel guilty now." "I wouldn't dream of it, my lord." "Yes I’m sure you wouldn't." "Give her my regards, my lord." “Of course, Hanford. Oh and have the chaise without the crest ready. I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention today.” He called this to Hanford who had disappeared into his wardrobe. “Very good, my lord.” He emerged with a dark blue suit and at James’ nod left the room only to return a second later. “Will you be dining here, my lord?” “Yes. I plan to leave for my mother’s around noon. That is, of course, if I get out of this bed anytime soon.” He finished the tea, placed the cup on the tray and swung himself out of the bed. “Yes I suppose I will be leaving at noon.” “Very good, my lord.” Hanford watched him with a ghost of a smile. “You know, Hanford, there are times when I truly wish you wouldn’t be so polite. Then I wouldn’t feel the least bit guilty wiping that smirk off your face.” “Of course, my lord.” He left the room still smiling but stopped to glare at a dawdling maid who scurried away. James looked back at the bed and resisted the urge to fall back down on it. He’d only gotten out because he knew Hanford would worry over him the whole day if he showed even the slightest sign of fatigue. He sat down instead and stretched his neck, wincing as the satisfying cracks were magnified in his still pounding head.

Perhaps he would spend the night on the Charleston; he always felt relaxed on his ships but the Charleston more than all of them. If only Billings didn’t have those damned cats on board. They’d been crawling all over the place the last time he’d been there. As well as other things, he thought with narrowed eyes.

Chapter 4 15 Upper Brook Street. “Good day Mother, Lady Forsyth.” James’ mother, Lady Amelia Ardsley, an elderly woman who still bore traces of the beauty of her youth, sat at a divan and sipped her tea, giving no indication that she was aware of her son’s presence. Instead she continued her conversation with Henrietta Forsyth, Countess of Haversham and the unusually young friend of Lady Ardsley. “In any case she cannot possibly be serious about the man, can she, Etta?” Lady Forsyth looked mildly uncomfortable and tried to recall the subject about which they had been discussing. She opened and closed her mouth for several seconds before regaining her composure. At which point she turned to look up at the earl who stood, legs apart with his arms crossed over his chest and seemed to be trying to control some emotion. “Good day, Lord Ardsley.” She said with a smile. Lady Ardsley, in response to this, placed her teacup and saucer, very loudly, on the table beside her. Causing Lady Forsyth to jump and look at her quizzically. “Honestly Etta, how on earth do you expect me to ignore this aggravating son of mine if you, who I am speaking to insist on initiating a conversation with him?” At this James burst laughing and walked over to his mother intending to kiss her on the cheek. She slapped him away with an almost petulant expression which only made him laugh harder. “Oh mother you are precious.” “Yes, I’m glad you think so. Now would you stop that noise; you might disillusion Lady Forsyth about your austere disposition.” “Of course. I would hate to do that.” He said, still smiling, then winked at Lady Forsyth who blushed and hid a smile behind her teacup at her friends admonishing frown.

“Where have you been, James?” He seated himself in the settee opposite them and slipped off his gloves before answering. “On the Charleston, of course.” He helped himself to a cucumber sandwich and smiled at his mother who was still frowning. “Living vicariously, no doubt.” “I wouldn’t want to sully the ears of dear Lady Forsyth here, mother so why don’t we change the subject.” “Although Lady Forsyth looks very much as though she would like her ears sullied.” He added with a knowing smile. His mother hadn’t missed the warning tone in his voice earlier but still being slightly angry, she merely sniffed and took another sip of her tea. Henrietta waved him away, looking flustered. Their mother’s having been good friends, James and herself had always been like brother and sister. “How’s your mother, Henrietta? I trust she finds Bath to her liking.” “Very fine, indeed.” Amelia had answered for her and drew her son’s attention to herself. “Your private life may be you business but one would think you would be more considerate and, at least, answer your mother’s summons.” “For that I am truly sorry and I offer you my most sincere apologies. But I do recall having sent you a missive before I took to sea.” “That little note was supposed to act in place for my only son? ‘I’m sorry, James isn’t available in London now but I do have a note from him. Would you like to see it?’” “I’ll be sure to write a longer one this time.” He said dryly as he helped himself to another sandwich. “This time? You mean you’re leaving again.” “Yes, I did mean that. These are delicious by the way.” “Don’t make light of this, James! I assumed you would be staying in London longer. I had plans for… oh never mind.” She furiously took another sip of tea, glaring at him over the rim of her cup. “I won’t be gone very long; you won’t even notice. What plans did you mean?”

“Oh nothing; it doesn’t matter now.” She looked mildly disconcerted and her cheeks colored slightly. “Humor me.” “I only wanted you to meet someone…a very nice girl…very accomplished, you see.” She said this between sips of tea and watched her son’s expression. Or lack thereof. Henrietta made a sound akin to a laugh but turned it into a cough as both sets of gray eyes turned towards her. “Well I’m sure she won’t be too disappointed.” Was his only remark as he finished his sandwich, dusted off his hands and slipped on his immaculate gloves. He rose, approached his mother and bent once again to kiss her cheek. “You really should stop trying to marry me off.” “I will when you actually let me do it or, even better, find someone yourself.” He kissed her, then said, “You’re a darling mother. I’ll be sure to come by once I get back.” He turned to Lady Forsyth, took her hand and kissed it. “Good day Henrietta, mother.” He gave a ghost of a bow and turned to leave when his mother stopped him. “I heard you were in Almacks Wednesday night, James. I wouldn’t believe it until I heard from you.” “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, mother.” “Yes, I know that.” She said impatiently, “But were you there or weren’t you?” He shook his head with a smile and strode towards the door. “Goodbye, mother.” “I’d like to have some grandchildren, James, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” “I’ll see what I can do.” xx Midnight, Livingston’s Dock. London, 1816.

Victoria scratched at the cloth wrapped around her waist; it was most irritating to have to scratch incessantly but perhaps it would add to her disguise. She hoped she looked enough like the cabin boy, Henry, to get on the ship. It was too bad the Charleston would have to do without one on this voyage. She shook away any guilt she felt at encouraging Henry to pursue his ‘won tru luv’. He would have abandoned the crew anyway; she had only sped up the process. Besides, why should she care if some pampered, arrogant earl, who apparently didn’t care for anyone beneath him, didn’t have one more person to spoil him. She stood at the foot of the gang plank remembering her descent the last time she had been here. Bracing herself she started up it, pulling the cap on her head lower to shield more of her face. “That you, Henry?” She grunted what she hoped sounded like a ‘yes’ and maneuvered around the man who looked at her curiously then shrugged and went back to a game of what seemed like a cross between cards and knife throwing. They were lost in their game and didn’t see the shadowy figure move towards the captain’s cabin, nor did they hear the door open or close. Victoria let out her breath slowly, not having realized she’d been holding it but not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. She looked around the room, mildly curious. A lamp burned low in the middle of a finely crafted table in the center of the room and lit the cabin with a soft yellow light the bounced off the polished walls. She moved towards the table and ran her finger tips across its top while she examined the equally ornate chairs. The earl had good taste, she thought reluctantly. If, of course, he had actually chosen these himself. She straightened abruptly at a sound and glanced through the open door of another room. Inside she could see the outline of a bed and rumpled sheets and was strangely drawn towards them. Shaking these thoughts out of her head she reminded herself why she was there. She had to search the cabin and she had to do it in the next five or four hours. It would be no simple task but perhaps luck was on her side and she would have this room all to herself with the earl fast asleep in the other. I wonder if he sleeps in the nude. She blushed furiously at the thought, took a few moments to regain her composure and walked towards a large desk that was more like two corner pieces and a desk joined together. It covered nearly the entire wall opposite the door and had several compartments. She decided to start her search there. Opening a drawer, she found, immediately, a file labeled ‘private’ and began a careful inspection of its contents. I wonder if he even knows any of his tenants. This was as she looked over several papers concerning the payment of rent. Why do you care, you nitwit? He’s just another arrogant lord. He does have beautiful eyes, though. No not beautiful…curious eyes, eyes one might want to study. Perhaps study how very attractive they are? No they’re not attractive. Not in the least. In fact one might say they were the color of …of… smashed

worms. Smashed worms, Vi? Really. Even you could have come up with something better than that. “What is wrong with me?!” she slammed the file down on the desk, belatedly remembering the need for silence. She bit her lip and held her breath, waiting for any sign that the earl had awakened. She heard nothing and after waiting a few more seconds, resumed her search. She couldn’t, however, get over the gnawing feeling of someone watching her. She could almost feel the person behind her. She turned around to reassure herself and breathed a sigh of relief when there was no one behind. There is no one in this room besides you, Victoria. Stop being such a twit and get back to what you came here for. She glanced, once more, into the room where she was sure Lord Ardsley was fast asleep. Well it wouldn’t hurt to close the door; if the earl did awaken, he would have to open the door first and she would have at least a few more seconds to hide somewhere. It seemed an adequate solution to her problems but when she did walk over to the door, she realized she should have stayed at the other end of the cabin and bore the uneasiness. In the dim lighting, she could make out James Ardsley’s profile; he looked innocent in sleep, almost soft. Her eyes moved of their own volition down his neck and then…she felt the heat rise up her face; he wore no shirt and his chiseled muscles in the blue-white moonlight shining through the window were like those of the Greek statues her father had had placed in the garden. No man could be like that, surely? But there he was in front of her. He moved and the sheets moved lower down, revealing even more of his chest. Her pulse sped up as she recalled her earlier thoughts on his sleeping habits and, with considerable effort, she left the room and leaned against the door post, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. More than anything she longed to go back in there and see him up close; she had never seen a man without all the frills and laces of their clothing. Of course this was perfectly normal but with one lying there fast asleep, practically begging her to ogle at him…well she’d never been one to ignore opportunities. And if he wakes? You never thought of that, Victoria, did you? Do you realize that your one look could well be the ruin of your reputation? And think of your father. This man’s already threatened to ruin you so why would you want to jeopardize your future anymore? “Because I’m the biggest fool in all of Christendom.” She said as she practically ran into the room. She slowed as she got closer to the large four poster bed and approached it cautiously. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm that she soon began to mimic. She longed to run her fingers over the crafted, taut ridges but didn’t dare. That brand of foolishness was beyond even her. Surely it was. A crisp lock of hair had fallen over his left eye and without thinking she reached out to brush it away. Then stopped as he moved once more, turning, this time, so his back was visible to her. The expanse of smooth, lightly-tanned skin had her entranced but she refused to do anything more foolish and turned to leave when a noise from above made

her jump. It was perhaps a lucky thing that James Ardsley was turned away from her because he sat up, alert, at the noise and looked up, a quizzical expression on his face. Victoria ducked immediately and slid herself under the bed. She held her breath and cursed, in her mind, the curs who had woken the earl and who had indirectly put her in this predicament. Up till then none of the noise from the outside had filtered into the room, even though, the men outside had been getting louder even as she had entered the cabin. The Captains cabin was obviously well insulated as he probably slept on board before every voyage. She saw a pair of feet touch the carpet and feel about for a pair of slippers. Then what looked to be a dressing coat came down around the ankles in front of her. So he did sleep in the nude. Oh what does that matter, you silly dolt; how the devil are you going to get out of here now? The feet moved away from the bed and after a long while she heard the door leading out of the cabin open. She considered getting out and finding someplace to hide in the outer room but the earl didn’t spend more than a few seconds outside before he returned. She noticed the silence outside when he closed the door and wondered if, when he finally fell asleep and she left the cabin, the men would sill be there. He stayed in the front room for a while and when he returned to is bedroom, bore the lamp which now shined brightly and threw light around the room. She heard him place it on something, and then felt him get on the bed above her. She wondered why he’d brought the light with him until she heard the next sound and felt her stomach plummet. It was the unmistakable rustle of paper; the earl was going to read. Chapter 5 Victoria felt something cold and soft touch her nose and she turned over, still more than half asleep. A sharp tug at her hair brought her eyes open and, leaning on her left elbow she pushed herself up…or attempted to. She didn’t get more than halfway up before her head collided with something hard. Her eyes swam and she lowered herself cautiously, turning so she was lying on her stomach. She faced a ginger-haired kitten that could have fit perfectly in her palm. The little thing playfully swatted at her nose then retreated as though it were waiting for her to do something. Ignoring the feline she looked down then above her as a sickening feeling engulfed her. She felt her chest constrict painfully and began telling herself very slowly and very carefully that she still dreaming, that she had not left for the dock at all, that she was still lying in her bed at home. Regret like cold, raw meat, settled in her stomach and she longed to get rid of it because if she had to regret anything, then she was really on a ship that, assuming all had gone according to schedule, had sailed a good many hours before. She could tell that it was most probably sometime around noon judging by the sunlight that flooded the room or at least the area of the floor that she could see. She felt thoroughly sickened with herself. So sick she could vomit…Oh dear God, she really felt like throwing up. She scrambled out from under the bed and stood shakily. The room danced before her eyes as she felt the bile rise up in her throat. The room was empty but she wasn’t quite sure she would have cared very much right then if the earl had still been

sitting in there. Putting her hand to her mouth she scanned the place for a chamber pot. Spying something that looked very much like one at the other end of the room, much closer to the door, the ran or rather, stumbled towards it. She was right in front of the door when it swung open and she faced the Lord Ardsley. For a moment they both stood, frozen. “What the devil.” It dawned on her that he must recognize her. No doubt because at some point under the bed her cap had come off and her hair now hung in soft waves about her. If her innards had not been waging war to empty themselves, she might have laughed at the ridiculous situation and perhaps even more so at the stunned look on Ardsley’s face. As it were she swayed slightly and made a valiant effort towards the chamber pot. Nausea, apparently, was a better warrior than she’d anticipated and she felt herself falling. She didn’t hit the floor, though, as warm, certainly strong hands, caught her and half carried; half dragged her to the pot. She only had time to see the vessel and appreciate that it was empty before she lost control of her squirming bowels. The floor felt hard beneath her knees and then the surrounding warmth drew away. The foolish – or perhaps not so foolish – thought that he was most probably disgusted and had left her to her disgrace sprinted around her mind until a cool cloth touched her brow and strangely comforting hands steadied her. The heaving stopped – it had to of course – and the end was welcomed with stomach felt relief. A slightly warm cloth then wiped her already damp face – and none too gently – until, perhaps, the earl was sure no bodily fluids remained. She was then lifted up and carried to… The bed did prodigious wonders to her aching muscles and she instinctively curled up in it. She closed her eye knowing she probably wasn’t going to be left to sleep but wanting to enjoy what she knew to be Ardsley’s scent. She blamed her light-headedness for that foolish notion and decided to chance a look at the ear. Perhaps he still stood above her. He was gone. She sat up, cautiously as her stomach still churned. She looked about the room, taking in its comfortable and yet so obviously expensive furniture. The mahogany canopy bed being the center piece, everything from the bedside table to the ornately carved mirror that stood, majestic, beside a door Victoria assumed led to the bathroom. The chamber pot was gone and she was just supposing that the earl had undertaken the task of emptying it when the person in question walked briskly in. He held a glass filled with some amber liquid. “Here, drink this.” He offered the glass and she responded deferentially to his brusque tone without thinking afore hand. She took a sip and then fought to push it down as her eyes stung. Looking up at him sharply she intended to ask him what was in the drink but

seeing the almost challenging look in his silver eyes, decided against it and swallowed a larger gulp. She couldn’t bring herself to take another so, under the pretext of examining the glass, through the golden stuff, she examined the earl. He stood with his arms crossed and wore what seemed his favorite: plain black breeches and a white cotton shirt. In fact he looked very much as he had when she’d seen him last on this ship. At the cuffs of his shirt though, the finest diamonds glimmered and at his ear, a single diamond shone. He looked positively rakish, she thought, and once again blamed the nonsensical thought on her indisposition. Her eyes moved to his face and caught his eyes, frosted orbs of haughty condescension. One of his delicate brows rose and his question was laced with a biting yet controlled anger. “Are you quite done yet?” She blushed furiously, not because she had been caught staring for that she knew was obvious but because of the turn her thoughts had taken while she took him in. In her discomfiture she hurriedly gulped down the remainder of the glass and then sorely wished she hadn’t. The burning, bitter taste was jarring to taste buds and she couldn’t resist screwing up her face in disgust. “What is this swill?” He merely took the glass from her, deposited it on the bedside table and turned back to her. Compared to his heated gaze the rest of his face was impassive so his next words brought her up short. “You ought to be whipped.” “Surely you don’t mean to undertake that task.” “No. Sadly the right doesn’t lie with me. What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing here!?” The last was thrown in rather savagely as though he could hardly believe the situation himself. She heaved a lugubrious sigh and looked down at her finely manicured finger nails. “I’m beginning to wonder that myself.” “Exactly what do you mean by that?” “I mean Lord Ardsley that as I would normally rather be dead than in a situation such as this, I’m quite surprised at myself.” She knew her words were heated but, none the less, she glared at him furiously until his own powerful gaze forced her to drop hers. She

chewed at her lip, a childish habit she never seemed to have divested with and took to glaring at the midnight blue covers. “Who are you?” “What?” She looked up, a little surprised at the question even as it was perfectly reasonable. “You heard my question.” His voice was soft and almost dangerous. “I’m afraid I can’t very well tell you that.” “Then I’m afraid I will just have to assume you for a thief.” He said smoothly. “You insult me, sir.” She bit out the words coldly and raised baleful eyes to meet his own. “You insult yourself.” He shot back, easily, “I ask you again: Who are you?” “Is it of any importance?” She adopted a coaxing tone. “You know I am not merely some girl from the streets. You saw me yourself at Almack’s.” “I saw you in the gardens.” Was his answer. “Surely you don’t believe…?” “It wouldn’t have mattered very much what I believed then and what I believe now if I had never laid eyes on you again. Yet here you are. On my bed. On my ship. And refusing to tell me your name. Does that in itself not strike you as odd?” She expelled a short breath and closed her eyes as though gathering his thoughts. “My name is Victoria.” “Victoria. Well that’s a start. Do you have a last name or are you some lord’s bastard.” He raised a hand at her scandalized look. “No don’t answer that. Why are you here?” “You contemptible monster. You dare question my birth. If your father even knew your mother …” She didn’t finish the sentence as the back of his cracked across her face. She fell in an ungainly heap back on the bed. “Lesson one, Victoria.” He practically spat out her name. “I don’t take kindly to insults to my mother.”

Chapter 6 The room lay silent for a while before he spoke again. He observed her with what could only be termed mild curiosity then, sighing, said, “I suppose that was a bit much. I’m not in the habit of striking women but my mother does hold precedence to any policies. You’re not crying, are you?” “If that is what you consider an apology then I suggest you save your breath.” She rose and met his arrogant gaze defiantly. “No, I am not crying. Why should I? One must make allowances when one is dealing with animals.” “Touché. Though I wasn’t apologizing, I do applaud your courage... Victoria but I assure you it is sorely misplaced. You see, I am not a man to be trifled with and I happen to be one of those odd people who will not tolerate insults to their person. I understand your anger...slightly. It was hardly fair of me to do that knowing that you could hardly retaliate...” He didn’t finish as she dealt him the hardest slap she could muster across the face. “You are quite wrong, sir. I am almost unnaturally proficient in the art of retaliation.” She didn’t hide her triumphant smile as his face colored where her hand had struck and merely moved a safe distance away from him, though still on the bed. He let a breath of air rush out of him then leveled his gaze on her. “Let me remind you that as of this moment you are entirely within my power. Let me also remind you that, as before, normal modus operandi is of no significance to me. In other words I will not hesitate to exact punishment in whatever way I see fit.” She blanched slightly then sniffed imperiously, her eyes mutinous and proud. “I am not afraid of you, despite what you might think. My father’s influence alone will have you thrown in Newgate if anything were to happen to my person. I merely ask that you turn this ship around and return me to England.” “No. In fact that is entirely out of the question so do not ask me again.” “Why the devil not? Look here, I don’t intend to accompany you on your entire journey. My father will be distraught!” “Perhaps those might have been important considerations to make before you decided to do this.” He said this in an offhand way that infuriated her and had her itching to slap him again. That would involve moving closer to him though and the thought didn’t appeal to her. “Who is your father anyway? If you insist on dropping his name at every opportunity you might as well tell me who he is.”

“I’m afraid I...Well I suppose it wouldn’t do any more harm.” “No I don’t suppose it would.” His voice mocked her and she bristled then said with a voice fraught with superciliousness. “Lord Adrian Eden, Viscount Fourding.” “Interesting. I’m acquainted with the Viscount. If you are his daughter, what, pray tell, are you doing here?” She heaved a weary sigh and began. “If you must know...” “Yes, I really must.” “You will probably think me a fool.” “I think I will reserve judgment until after I’ve heard what you have to say.” She searched her mind wildly but came up with nothing but the truth. She started cautiously, hoping she might come up with something believable as she went along. “I am on a...er... mission of sorts.” “You are a spy then?” She considered that but the skeptical look on his face told her she would be steering in the wrong direction. She shook her head emphatically, almost exasperatedly. “Of course not. I’m here because of a friend to...er...acquire...some nautical artifacts. You see we, my friend and myself, were engaged in a quarrel of sorts and we decided to settle a score by...er...playing a game of...piquet with the loser having to admit to being wrong and having to board a ship, any ship and collect an object which would be returned at a later date. With a full apology to the owner of the ship of course.” His face was once more impassive then he burst into a hearty laugh. “You truly expect me to believe that? That is the most ridiculous story I have ever been fortunate enough to hear.” “I realize it sounds incredible but it is the truth. It was merely a joke and it does explain my being on your ship like this and before.” “Yes it does explain quite a lot.” He rubbed his clean shaven chin contemplatively. “So you are a thief...of sorts.” So they had returned to that. “You really are a most odious man.” “Yes. I suppose so.”

He looked at her for a long enough time that, despite her best efforts, she felt herself squirm slightly. “I suppose now I’m somewhat responsible for you, Lady Eden.” “You needn’t be responsible for me, if you would only see sense and return me to England.” “I won’t dignify that ridiculous comment with an answer.” He said, shortly and made for the door. “I’ll be back shortly. It appears we have much to talk about.” “I’d rather talk to the one stirring this ship, if it’s all the same to you.” “It isn’t. And I would advice you to be as little trouble to me as possible because I am neither patient nor forgiving person. Particularly to stowaways.” He left the room. No doubt waiting for her, Victoria thought. Do you see, Victoria, what happens to particularly stupid members of society? This! They end up as stowaways. A stowaway, Victoria. That’s what you’ve become. And how coincidental it is that you’re trussed up with the most vile of creatures. The earl could not have been fat with deteriorating health or even gout. Oh no. He couldn’t have been mild mannered or particularly daft. No. That wouldn’t have been enough. He had to be the most domineering, arrogant, beast that ever crossed the earth. He had to be a recalcitrant fool too. The very idea! Refusing to take her back to England. Any other peer of the realm would have done it. They would have seen it as an obligation to her person. Any other person would have been considerate enough to consider her position. But not Ardsley. Not that bounder who himself said he was unforgiving and impatient. Such sterling qualities! You should get along with him just fine, Victoria. Angela, wherever you are, you’d best appreciate what I’m doing here. You’d best appreciate the abuse I’ve had to go through. She fingered her cheek lightly. I’ve never been struck before. Not even by father. I suppose I could chalk it up as a…a new experience. Lady Victoria Eden, Viscountess Warburton, treated like a wayward child. Yes, this is a most interesting, new, experience. She sank into the bed and hugged her knees to her chest. She would not succumb to tears because for one thing she had never been one to break down under pressure and for another she refused, in her own stubborn way, to give in to the earl. Domineering beast. Rocking herself back and forth, she thought of her mother. What would she think of you, Victoria? She certainly wouldn’t be too proud but she would probably want you to…to face this form of adversity as you always have. Head on. Of course if I face the earl head on, I’ll probably be knocked off my feet. Oh what a dreadful mess this is! Even Dixon

would be much better than this. No that isn’t true. I must be quite distraught to even think that. A thump on the bed behind her, made her turn around. The ginger kitten, with her cap in its mouth, looked up at her. “You are a darling thing, aren’t you?” She’d always been partial to cats but her father couldn’t abide animals in the house so she’d given up the idea of having one long ago. The kitten came towards her without the normal caution one would expect and, dropping the cap, rubbed itself against her. She picked up the little ball of fur and rubbed it against her cheek. She turned it on its back in her lap, noted that it was female and tickled its snow white belly. She, the cat, purred and swatted playfully at her hands. It then righted herself and, with little difficulty, clawed up her sleeve and on top of her head. Its tail tickled her ear and she giggled, loving the creature at once. A paw came between her eyes, jerked back and then came down again. She quite forgot where she was until she heard the earl’s voice. “You don’t mean to say he’s gone.” “Well that’s the thing, my lord. He did board the ship yesterday but now he’s gone.” “Well perhaps you haven’t looked for him properly, Mister Redburn. He can’t have vanished now, can he?” “No, of course not, my lord.” “Then I suggest you look for him.” Ardsley said shortly, ending the discussion and closing the door to the cabin. He leaned against the door for a while, and then smiled, his eyes twinkling. He pushed himself off the door and strode into the bedroom. Victoria still sat on the bed but she didn’t acknowledge his presence until he was right in front of her. “Where is Henry?” “Who?” She looked mildly irritated and her fists were clenched on her lap. “You know you really must dispense with this habit you have of making me repeat myself. You heard what I asked so where is he?” “Well I would imagine he’s in England.” She said it nonchalantly, somewhat enjoying her paltry victory. “You got on this ship in his stead?” “Not in his stead…well to an extent, yes.”

“I suppose you were going to leave me without a cabin boy when you left here. Was that on your own whim or was it, too, a stipulation in your agreement with your friend?” “I didn’t think you would require a cabin boy with your already extensive crew.” “Then perhaps we might stop that sentence at ‘think’ because the job position wouldn’t have been created if there were no need for it. In any case, since you have been so good as to force your presence on my ship, I think it would be fitting if you replaced Henry. Not only would it be an educating experience but I’m sure that by the time we reach the islands, you’ll better appreciate the need for cabin boys.” She rose swiftly to better meet his, now laughing, eyes but he pushed her down unceremoniously. “Sit down and, please don’t attempt to get up again. I’m not quite finished, you see.” “You arrogant cur, you surely cannot be serious.” “Oh but I am very serious. But do let me finish. You may continue in your disguise but you will be Henry’s replacement, Victor.” “I am not going to serve you in any way. I refuse to do that.” “I was quite sure you would but I’m not asking you, I am merely telling you.” “So you intend to force me to do this? What will you do your lordship?” “Well I don’t think there’s call for anything drastic. I will simply ensure that every member of the ton is aware of this voyage when we return to England. Don’t look so shocked now. I don’t intend to do that unless you refuse my request.” “Your request or your order? Can’t you see that I won’t do this? Or perhaps you don’t understand me. Je ne veux pas le faire! You are worse than vile to threaten to destroy my reputation but then what could I have expected from a pampered, insensible cad such as yourself.” “Yes, what could you have expected? Did you expect something, Miss Eden? I would imagine you picked out my ship not knowing who I was.” He smiled at the slightly apprehensive look that came into her eyes then died a second later. “I’ve heard of you, Ardsley. The ton does talk, you know.” “Yes, but I’m sure an innocent debutante, such as yourself would only hear the brighter aspects of my life. And even if you did hear of my rakehell ways, that isn’t what you’re accusing me of now, is it? No, don’t answer that.”

“I didn’t intend to.” She said, coldly. He raised one supercilious eyebrow and observed her. “You might consider changing your attitude. I don’t normally allow Henry to insult me and I don’t intend to allow you that privilege.” “Did you not understand me when I said I would not do it?” “You might think differently when we return to England and your father is drawn into this scandal.” “You’re despicable.” “No, I only know how to bend people to my will. The more spoilt and rash they are, the easier it is.” He turned and was at the door before she called out that she would do what he asked. He turned back and smiled. “I thought you might soon change your mind. Mister Redburn is even now looking for you. And another thing, Victoria, or should I say Victor, he isn’t the most patient of men either.” Chapter 7 Victoria watched his retreating back as sheer rage boiled within her. Could looks kill, the earl would have been dead ere he stepped out of the room but as they could not, Victoria’s glare was wasted and died soon after Lord Ardsley’s departure. She stood up, somewhat shaky, and picked the kitten out of her hair. It attacked her cap next and she half-heartedly wrested it from the feline’s miniscule teeth. Placing it on her head, she walked over to the mirror to check her appearance. If she tilted the cap forward to shield her eyes, she could pass for a twelve or thirteen year-old boy, be it a somewhat girlishlooking one. She gave herself an unenthusiastic smile and tried to stand a little straighter before she turned and practically marched to the door of the cabin. Ardsley was gone but she still took one look around to be sure of the room’s emptiness, then taking one long breath and letting it out, she opened the door and walked out. The sun hit her first, with a blinding ferocity and then, while she was still blinking, something else hit her; the side of her head exploded with pain and the only reason she didn’t fall over was because she fell back and slammed into the cabin door behind her. “Do you know I’ve spent my entire morning looking for you, you young whelp?!” The voice was largely uncouth and rang in her stinging ear. She was about to reply in slight kind when, from nowhere, apparently, she heard Ardsley’s voice, smooth and perhaps slightly more dangerous. “If this is how you treated Henry, I’m not surprised he’s gone.”

“My lord!” Startled, he thought over what the earl had just said. “This…this isn’t Henry...my lord?” “No, I’m not Henry. I’m Victor Burton and I demand an apology this instant.” Victoria hissed at him from beneath her cap. She had thought she had been angry at the earl before but now all she wanted to do was gouge this man’s eyes out with her fingernails. His stupefied look fueled her anger and she only stopped short of actually slapping him at Ardsley’s pointed look. “Doubtless,” He stressed the word and gave her a more pointed look which she chose to ignore. “The lad is somewhat disorientated but I would advice you to tread carefully around my cabin boy because I don’t think I could afford to lose him in the islands.” He turned from Redburn and then, to Victoria, “Victor, I’d like a word with you.” Reluctantly turning from the now glaring shipmate, she caught up with him as he climbed the stairs up to the deck. “If you think, for one second, that that show of Sir Galahad-like kindness is going to work on me, then you’ve…” “I assure you the thought never crossed my mind but that isn’t what I wanted to discuss.” “Of course it isn’t! Why discuss it when we can just sweep it under the carpet? You know I never thought I’d ever meet such a contemptible creature as yourself.” “Will you just shut up? Damnation! You could talk the hind leg off a donkey! I’m sorry about what happened there as it wasn’t your fault…” “And it’s yours.” “However,” He went on as though she had not spoken. “I would not act like the spoilt brat that you doubtless are dressed like this because not only will no one take you seriously as a lady but, as a cabin boy, plenty will.” “How dare you call me a spoilt brat!? I didn’t think you would add hypocrisy to your sterling qualities but there you are.” He stared down at her with one raised eyebrow then said slowly as though he were controlling a very strong emotion. “I won’t defend myself to you because I don’t need to. I would offer you my most sincere apologies about Redburn if I thought you would accept them but nonetheless I will have him with a prayer book for the rest of the voyage if it will somewhat mollify you.” “I don’t need to be mollified! I need to get back to England! Oh what’s the point?” His eyes softened slightly and she turned away from him, angry at herself for breaking down like that.

This is a disaster. I was a fool to come up with this farce. You don’t have to do any of this…” “You monster!” She turned back to him, her eyes blazing. “Do you really think I’m going to discard this disguise now, after every rapscallion in England has seen me? Thank you, my lord! I’m sincerely grateful for your charitable reconsideration!” His eyes hardened as he gazed down at her furious eyes. “And then you go and prove me wrong.” “Prove you wrong? I would hate to do anything of the sort. Especially if it involves your being a fool.” “Will you lower your voice? If you haven’t noticed, you are regarded as a cabin boy on this ship and unless you care to correct that situation anytime soon, you ought to refrain from insulting my person. You see, cabin boys generally don’t do that.” He hissed. “I will do, Ardsley, exactly what I wish.” “I see there is still some misunderstanding.” He said, coldly. “I myself will treat you exactly as I would an impertinent cabin boy.” “Is that a threat sir?” “No. It is a promise. You are a cabin boy as long as you are not within my cabin.” Turning from her, he continued up the stairs, throwing over his shoulder, “Is that not just the perfect irony. You will receive instructions from Mr. Willis…he’s the fellow with the red hair.” Victoria stood for a moment, trying to control her anger then an odd thought floated into her head. You are a cabin boy as long as you are not within my cabin. What the devil had he meant by that? Surely he didn’t have some worse design in mind than this. She rubbed her left ear, tenderly and felt her anger renew. He wasn’t even largely penitent! Whenever I get off this ship I truly intend to throw the blackguard in Newgate. “Are ye alrigh’ lad? Dat Redbern’s a brute. If the capn’ dinna forbid fighn’ ’board ship, Ai’d be da firs’ ta take ’im on. De names’ Willis by da way. Ian Willis. Come now les ’ave a look at ye.” She found herself being turned around and looked up to face a veritable giant.

Chapter 8

“Yer a small ‘un. Ye canna be more’n twelve if yer dat e’en.” Victoria stared at his chest, feeling him studying her and wondering if she was meant to reply. He gave no indication of this so she remained silent. “Well lad wat do dey call ye?” “Victor…” She stopped, having forgotten her extemporaneous surname. “Dat hit in da head did some damage.” The Scot asked with a grin that belied his mildly concerned expression. She looked up at him quizzically, affecting an expression she had found exasperating only moments ago when it was worn by a certain captain. The man stepped back in mild surprise and then burst into loud and rumbling laughter which only had her looking more puzzled. When his laughter did subside it was only to be replaced by a coughing fit. Unsure of what to do Victoria made an attempt to bang him on the back but she was sure she wasn’t helping at all until he stopped abruptly and looked at her curiously. Instinctively she pulled her cap down over her eyes and swallowed before she asked, “Are you alright?” This seemed to distract him as he gave a short chuckle and Victoria asked, hastily, “You’re not going to start laughing again, are you?” “Nae lad. D’ya know dat right den ye could ‘ave been a monarch, wit dat expression on yer face. Ah jes remembered ma Ellie used ta do dat. An’ she used ta dress in men’s kilts.” He had a nostalgic expression on his face but at Victoria’s look of horror, which was actually because of the uncanny coincidence between his story and her situation, he immediately looked repentant. “Ah wasna laughing at ye lad so dinna take offense. Come on now…an’ be free wi’ me; Ah hear Ah’m a good friend ta ‘ave.” Victoria belatedly remembered that as a boy she should have taken offense to being compared to a girl but was already turning away, telling her he’d give her layout of the ship. She followed him, pulling down her cap and wondering how many mishaps like that could occur before someone noticed anything odd about her. xx “I have always wondered what marvels lurked at the very bottom of the ocean. Hiding and waiting for the unsuspecting fool who would dive into the comforts of their home.” The earl turned to glance at his first mate, Devlin Worth, and then turned back to face the churning waters, a small smile creeping across his face. “What condescension you have for those who would discover what you merely wonder about.” He said simply. “How glibly you support those who merely seek progression for the sake of progress.” “What reason other than that does one need to consider progress?”

“I would point to necessity but one who does not know need would surely not comprehend such a thing.” “How hypocritical of you to allude to my wealth as a reason for inherent ignorance. But then hypocrisy is what often sparks these unnecessary disputes.” “Unnecessary they may be but you cannot deny that they do provide some entertainment. Despite your inferior intellect you do alleviate the burden of boredom that always seems to weigh upon me for the duration of these journeys.” “I wonder sometimes why I do not toss you overboard while on these ‘boring’ journeys. Accidents have been known to happen.” His friend smiled, indeed he looked ready to burst out laughing, and then said, “Why because you would have to jump in after me soon afterwards, when you have been forced to bear one day on this ship without my superior wit.” “You count yourself too dearly; Ravenswood and Burleson are only two of many who would provide interesting conversation. Besides that, this journey happens to come with its own entertainment. All in one delectable package.” “I’ll forget the fact that you just insulted me if you would be so good as to explain that little bit of information.” “I apologize if the truth offends you, dear Devlin.” James said, with an amused look in his eyes that belied the sincerity of his statement. “As to being so good as to explain myself…well I don’t believe I have ever been so good, as you should know, and I’m not quite sure I wish to start now. Particularly not with one who considers me of inferior intellect.” “What the devil do you mean by that?” “I need a hammock or something of the sort in my cabin. I would say another bed but I’m not feeling particularly kind at the moment and it should prove entertaining.” “What should prove entertaining? And why the bloody hell do you need a bed or hammock in your cabin?” “For my cabin boy, of course.” “Of course. And I must say hope that sounds to you perfectly normal since I find it perfectly ridiculous. I’ve known you to be almost unnecessarily kind to your cabin boy but, in the hope that I don’t sound overly curious, whence this sudden need for him to sleep in your cabin?”

“Well I would, under normal circumstances, agree with you but I doubt very much even she would have the constitution to sleep with my crew.” The earl could feel his friend staring at him but he maintained his composure, merely watching, with an affectation of boredom, the sun sink, slowly, into the horizon. “I could have sworn that I misheard you had you not stressed that word but, for the sake of clarification, could you repeat that?” “What part, the fact that I would agree with you under normal circumstances or the fact that my cabin boy would not appreciate sleeping with my crew.” “The part, James,” Worth said, through clenched teeth, “About your cabin boy being female.” “Oh that. It came as a surprise to me too.” He glanced at Devlin, who looked ready to burst with questions or with more appropriate names for his friend, smiled slightly, and then turned back to the water only to burst into long held back laughter. “Don’t look at me like that, Devlin, old boy.” He said, recovering himself. “You look like you’re about to go into a fit. She isn’t really my cabin boy…girl…whatever. She’s apparently here by accident. Which means, of course, that some how I’m going to have to be the gentleman and protect her honor and see that she is returned home safely and whatever nonsense.” “You didn’t kidnap some lord’s wife, did you?” Devlin said, slowly. “No, of course not. First of all, that isn’t my style at all, more your line of work.” To this, Worth looked mildly sheepish. “And in any case I had no idea she was here until this morning.” “You were drunk when you brought her?” “Are you daft? I didn’t bring her. She sneaked in here dressed in some borrowed garb and I found her in my cabin.” “So she was drunk?” “No she wasn’t…no, I don’t bloody know if she was drunk. Look, I only told you this because I want you to keep an eye on her. Not like that, you half wit.” He said the last in response to the speculative gleam that suddenly sparked in Devlin’s eyes. “I honestly don’t mean for her to do any work, any real work, apparently she’s a lady of some sort and I doubt seriously if she would know the right end of a bucket, but I don’t want to be particularly kind either. For all I know, she could be a common thief.”

“So I’m to be the lowly henchman. Not so sure if I like that job but then again this could prove a most interesting opportunity.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, a grin plastered on his face that only got wider at James look of disgust. “I don’t know how I stand you, Devlin. Accidents have been known to happen.” “Yes, indeed they have. But then again, you did promise my brother.” “Mores the pity. Another thing. Redburn seems to have an excess of time on his hands. See that he spends it with a prayerbook.” “Any particular reason? Not that I mind but it would seem rather odd coming from nowhere.” Slapping him on the back, James said with a smile, “Oh I’m sure you can find a reason. With your superior intellect, that should be quite easy.” Turning from the older man, Worth walked away grumbling, “And I suppose him hating me isn’t a problem.” “It comes with the job, Worth, my boy, it comes with the job.” James laughed at his retreating back. xx “Did I mention the fact that this vessel is obscenely large? I haven’t been so lucky as to grace the decks of many ships but even with my limited knowledge of crafts I can surmise that this is a particularly large one. That being said I see no reason, no good reason why anyone would consider walking up, down and around it. Mr. Willis would have to show me everything from the kitchens to the bathing facilities – I would be more likely to dive into the ocean than use what I will politely refer to as a communal bathing house. My feet were more than ready to give way! I suppose I was meant to ‘get the lay of her’ but since I spent half the time shielding my face and the other half looking away as curious sailors tried to get a look at me, I am more than likely to get lost here tomorrow than anything. And there he is laughing.” She cast a baleful look at the captain who seemed in conversation with a man slightly shorter than he was and certainly much younger. He wore his charcoal locks long, in what Victoria assumed was an imitation of the captain’s and, from what she could see; he had the same aristocratic tilt to his nose. He could have been the earl’s brother, they were quite similar in visage, but his green eyes and the almost mischievous expression he sported made him look quite tropical and very much the budding rake. “He would be enjoying this, wouldn’t he?” She continued to herself, slipping through a somewhat narrow passage way to the port side of the ship; where she allowed herself a moment of solitude even as she didn’t quite enjoy the pale purple hues of the sky as the sun set.

“He couldn’t let me go. He just had to be an arrogant strutting peacock. Stubborn mules! That’s what they all are.” “Do you always talk to yourself or is this a particularly special moment?”

Chapter 9 “So you’ve come to gloat. I would have thought that beneath even you but then I should by now be prepared to expect the worst.” She didn’t turn as she said this. Instead she let out a long breath and continued staring at the speck of land she was almost sure was England. “I would hope that in the very short time I’ve known you, I wouldn’t have done anything to give you such a bad opinion of me. If I have I must offer my most sincere apologies.” She turned sharply to the man beside her and, although after he’d spoken the second time, she’d heard the slight, almost imperceptible, difference between his voice and Ardsley’s, she was still surprised to find the he was not the earl. “You both sound uncannily alike.” She remarked slowly as she examined him more closely. She had to tilt her head back to do it and she wondered irritably if all the men of the ship were a foot taller than herself. In a, by then, practiced motion, she pulled her cap down almost over her eyes as she did this. “You needn’t try to disguise yourself with me. And I’m sure there will be time aplenty to determine if Thornton and I are related. It’s Devlin, by the way. Devlin Worth.” She started to apologize for her rudeness in staring; heaven knew she’d been doing that too much as it were, before his first statement caught her attention. “That goat.” She said, wishing she had the earl on a rack. “Goat?” Devlin asked, curious. “I assume he told you who I was.” She spat. “That acrimonious rake.” “Well he did tell me you weren’t what one would expect the usual cabin boy to be.” He was grinning but, at her murderous expression, quickly continued, his grin dying. “Though I don’t think he did it out of spite. After all he wanted me to…ensure that you didn’t get into any…you’re not his mistress by any chance?” “Is this experience to be one insult after another? No don’t answer that. I doubt seriously that you could to my satisfaction. No, I am not Ardsley’s mistress and I am not a whore, if that was your second thought. I will thank you to remember that if you forget

everything else I might ever tell you. So he sent you to ensure I didn’t somehow poison his food while taking it to him? I’ve just been informed that that is one of the duties I will be performing. Did he also tell you where I would be sleeping? Or will I be joining his unctuous crew?” Devlin stood staring at her for a moment, feeling remarkably as if he was back in the schoolroom with one of his tutors scolding him for some offense. He opened and shut his mouth trying to remember what he’d been about to tell her. She sighed then, her shoulders drooping, a somewhat sheepish expression on her face. “I’m sorry,” She began. “I shouldn’t have gone at you like that. None of this is your fault. And I suppose these men are not so awful; they were actually…quite…friendly. I just…” Her throat constricted painfully and she blinked rapidly, trying to stop her eyes from leaking. Devlin watched her uncomfortably. He’d at first thought he wanted nothing to do with her, whoever she was. A small part of him still felt it would be best if she were kept at arms length – that tongue of hers could cut through steel – but he also felt a strong urge to comfort her. She looked so damnably small and beaten right then. He fished around in his pocket and, finding a handkerchief, handed it to her. She took it without comment and blew loudly. He couldn’t help chuckling at that. She joined him after a few more snorts. Soon they were both laughing, a helpless relieved sort of laughter. She stopped first. “I really am sorry for acting like a shrew. I assure you it was an act; I’m not usually like that. I think the sea air has something to do with it.” She ended this with a rueful smile and then extended her hand to him. “I don’t know if I should kiss your hand or shake it.” He said accepting her gesture. She solved that problem by taking his hand which held hers and pumping it up and down. “Friends then?” He asked, his eyes growing oddly darker and making her uncomfortably aware that he might mean something more than that. “Yes. Friends.” She said, firmly. “Despite these strange circumstances.” She made an attempt to pull her hand out of his and he let go, startled, as though he hadn’t realized he’d been holding on. “Would you care for something to eat?” He asked, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it earlier. That you may not have eaten, I mean.” “Oh don’t worry yourself. I actually had a very rousing meal with some of the crew. It was rather large. And,” She added, with the exaggerated tone of one sharing a secret, in

an attempt to establish a light atmosphere. “I fear I overindulged and really can't eat anything more.” “Of course. Then perhaps you’d like something to drink. James has…” “Ardsley! Oh dear. I didn’t notice it had gotten so dark. I’m supposed to take dinner to the awful cad. Which way is the Kitchen?” “You needn’t…” “I don’t know what he’s told you but I am really not a guest here and I must keep my end…well never mind. Could you just tell me where the kitchen is?” She looked about her trying vainly to remember the large and bustling place Willis had shown her. “I’ll take you there. And I will deal with his lordship’s dinner. You needn’t worry yourself about it. I’ll see that it’s done without your having to carry any trays around.” He looked to be deep in thought and was already walking towards what Victoria hoped was the kitchen. “That really isn’t necessary,” She began tentatively. How does one refuse such a generous offer? “You see, I have to do this…it’s a matter of obligation.” He didn’t seem to have heard her and kept walking looking around as though in search of something. Victoria had the sinking feeling he didn’t know where the kitchen was and faltered in her step. He noticed that and turned to her impatiently. “What?” He asked, as he noted her mulish expression and her crossed arms. “Do you know where you’re going or are you hoping to find the place by accident?” Amusement glinted in her eyes as he seemed to consider her question. His answer surprised her, though. “Well I wasn’t quite sure but I felt perhaps that you wouldn’t mind to Thornton having a late dinner.” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh at that statement. She saw the mischief in his eyes and thought that he must have been serious. She opened her mouth to tell him that although she didn’t care too much if Ardsley ate at all, she could well imagine that his reaction to that would not be too pleasant, but he stopped her with a raised hand. “I only jested. It’s right here around the corner with the…” “…coil of rope.” She finished for him. “Yes, now I remember Mr. Willis telling me that.” “I’ll get his meal. No, don’t start; Cook will doubtless be having a fit by now and will more than likely do you bodily harm if you just walk in there.” He smiled good-naturedly and walked briskly towards the kitchen letting her follow him or not. She dogged his footsteps, shaking her head and wondering whether she would have to wrestle with him for the tray.

It turned out to be two trays, heavily laden with dishes of covered food. She watched, incredulous, as Devlin came out, one tray in each hand. “I realized as I dodged Cooks pans to retrieve these that I don’t even know your name. Care to enlighten me?” “Victoria…Burke.” She said, impatient with his nonchalance. “You really don’t have to do this.” “Yes, I really must. First, I really don’t think the earl intended you to do any hauling about. Second, I couldn’t live with myself if I let you carry these things. In any case I doubt seriously that you could even lift one of them. He’s dining with Marlowe I believe…and myself, though he might not be so eager to see me soon.” “It isn’t your fault his stomach will have to wait a little longer.” She said, lengthening her stride to keep up with him as they neared the captain’s cabin. “And you are not going in there with those.” She added coming to stand in front of him. “I’ll carry the damned things in one by one if I have to.” “You don’t have to…” “Devlin. Please. You’ve helped so much and I cannot thank you enough but this is something I must do.” He looked as if he would refuse but after sighing he bent and placed both trays on the floor. “I’ll go in and you can come in a few seconds after.” “Thank you.” The last thing I need is for that odious man to say I’m not keeping my end of this agreement. Standing to the side of the door, she watched him enter and sent him a reassuring smile. He left the door slightly ajar, of which Victoria was glad, and she stood there a while as she eyed the trays. Unless she pushed them in, she would have to take the dishes in singly. Bracing herself she picked one up that she hoped would not be too heavy. It was heavier than she expected but she could lift it with some dignity. Pushing the door open with her elbow, she entered the cabin. Six or seven candles in golden holders were lit and their flickering lights danced around the room. The three men sat silently and Victoria didn’t doubt their eyes were on her but she stared straight ahead and, reaching the table, placed the dish on it without a word. She turned and left the room for one more. James watched her speculatively. He thought, surely that no one could think she was a boy. Those hips, swaying gently made him want to groan. Like a queen, she’d come in and bestowed upon their poor selves the dish. Marlowe looked ready to jump out of his chair, he thought with some amusement. The girl had nerve, he’d have to give her that. It might, however, get her into some trouble with his men. He frowned, remembering Redburn. His hands had positively itched to break the man’s nose. He’d been no better,

his conscience put in. He shouldn’t have struck her; he’d never reacted with violence to any woman before. But then no woman had ever called his mother a whore. Indirectly or otherwise. She entered again and this time their eyes met. He’d thought she’d pull her gaze away but Victoria, no coward, held his eyes with challenge vivid in her cobalt blue orbs. He would dearly like to see her with desire in those eyes. The same that was doubtless in his. He looked from her to the dish she’d placed on the table. He really should not be reacting so strongly to this chit, he thought, irritated with himself. He glanced at Devlin and felt an unwarranted surge of anger as he saw the younger man watching what he had found so tempting moments before. This voyage was not turning out as he’d planned.

Chapter 10 Victoria had carried in each plate and, leaving them to sort out the mess of covered dishes, had left without a word. A small victory. And an even smaller one, she thought, her elation over her perfect equanimity dying as she realized she would have to do that for the rest of the voyage. “Months.” She muttered, glaring at the restless ocean. After leaving the captain’s cabin, Victoria had returned the trays to the somewhat mollified cook and had escaped before he could begin a lecture on punctuality she could see he was dying to give. Te rest of the crew had dipped lavishly into the ship’s supply of rum; apparently their previous night’s celebration had been cut short and they were most eager to continue the orgy. Slipping away to the portside – she was lost as to what she would do had she been invited to join them – she’d settled into a coil of rope, resting her elbows on the ship’s side. She refused to think of the earl enjoying his dinner in the company of his friends. No doubt laughing over a bad joke. Probably telling a joke. A terrible one. “I hope he chokes on a bone.” She said aloud, glancing back in the general direction of his cabin. She stared dispassionately at the ruffling water. Father will be distraught by morning. I’ve never been out this long before. He must have people looking for me. Angela could tell him where I’ve gone. But what difference would it make? The bounder could be headed for China for all I know. No! No, she would not go that far. It would take years to there from what she’d heard. Years… She could be over twenty by the time she got back to England. Her eyes clouded despite her resistance to tears and she felt the now almost familiar lump rising in her throat. She leaned forward and watched as a drop fell and disappeared into the black waves. xx

James stared at the sleeping figure he had just spent the better part of twenty minutes searching for. He leaned against wall behind him, his arms crossed and wondered how best to wake her. She was curled into a small ball in a coil of rope and presented such an endearingly pathetic picture that he felt a tug at his heart. It was a clod night; she shouldn’t have been sleeping out. Pushing himself of the wall, he moved to stand over her. He felt his loins tighten as her full lips formed a pout. He cursed at the ease with which she was drawing these feelings from him and leaned over to shake her awake. As his hand touched her shoulder, her hand cracked across his face he jerked back and she jerked awake. “Oh dear!” She exclaimed. “I will assume that that was an accident.” James said, dryly a curious look in his eyes. “I was having a dream…perhaps a nightmare…It doesn’t matter. What are you doing here anyway?” She snapped the last. “Well my cabin boy can hardly sleep out here. You might not be able to haul in the buckets for my bath tomorrow morning.” Turning he added over his shoulder. “There’s nothing like a warm bath in the mornings. Come on, we wouldn’t want you to get lost now would we?” Getting, stiffly out of the rope, she wished she had something to throw at the man’s head. She’d only been half asleep when she’d hit him but then her dream had disconcertingly centered on him and that was a nightmare enough. She smiled, wryly as she remembered his shock. She dogged his long strides reluctantly admiring his perfectly contoured back and the hard muscles of his thighs that were shown to advantage in his molding breeches. And his… She blushed furiously and stared resolutely at the back of his head until they’d reached his cabin. She attempted a stretch and winced at her aching muscles. Where the devil am I going to sleep anyway? Surely not with him… She let her eyes rove over the cabin and she espied a hammock. A hammock? Well at least it wasn’t the floor, she thought, her anger rising. The earl had said nothing to her but had gone into his bedroom and closed the door. Well what did you expect, Victoria? You didn’t expect a pillow did you? Or a blanket“Ugh! I really hate that man!” She glared at the door for some time before it opened again and the earl stepped out in a silk burgundy dressing gown. His feet were ensconced in matching kid slippers and he held a bundle of blankets and she spied a pillow in the pile. Still saying nothing to her, he walked to the hammock and dropped the load on it before turning to her.

“There’s a bath in there which I don’t intend to use, if you’d like it.” She blinked. He was offering her a bath? A warm bath? “I…thank you.” “You have thirty minutes to make use of it before I go to bed.” He added gruffly. “Of course! Thank you!” She practically ran into the bedroom and into the bathroom where she was met with a steaming tub of mildly scented water. His scent? She ignored the thought and proceeded to disrobe, eager to use her thirty minutes wisely. She sunk into the tub and let the warm water soak her. Closing her eyes she began to reconsider her opinion of the earl. What sort of man would first treat her with such hostility and then offer her a warm bath obviously prepared for him. It crossed her mind briefly that someone else had lugged the water here for him. A warm bath. It was so relaxing. She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep. xx James read the same sentence for the seventeenth time before he tossed the book on the table and glared at the ceiling. She was just taking a bath. A bath. It doesn’t matter if she’d have to take of those clothes to do it. People don’t usually bathe in their clothes, dolt! He clenched and unclenched his fists at the thought of her without a stitch of clothing on. No! Dammit no! Perhaps he should leave the cabin. But he couldn’t do that. She was undressed in his bedroom and he could not bring himself to leave. He rose and paced the room, reciting some Latin text he’d learnt as a boy in his head in an attempt to cool his ardor. He couldn’t go to sleep like this. And why the devil was she taking so long? Grabbing a pocket watch on the table he glanced at the time. Thirty-three minutes. He’d told her thirty. He was justified in going in there. So why the hell did he feel like some perverted hedonist! He marched into the room and entered the bathroom. She sat there, bubbles that she’d probably conjured some time ago her only scant covering. His body reacted painfully and his mouth went dry. Her head rested on the rim of the tub and her hair floated about in the water brushing twin peaks that teased the surface of the water. He wasn’t sure when he’d moved but he was soon standing over her. She moaned, a pathetic cry that diminished his passion slightly. She was probably in the throes of some dream. Or nightmare. He inwardly cursed and left the room. “Victoria!” He knew he sounded sharp but he didn’t particularly care. An answering splash assured him that she was awake. “I do plan to go to sleep so I trust you’ll leave soon.” She said nothing but he heard the water slosh and assumed she was getting out of the tub. He felt himself harden again at

the thought of her standing there, dripping. Cursing, he doused the lights and threw himself into his bed. Some minutes later he heard her leave the room and heard a soft but unmistakable “Good night.” He didn’t fall asleep until sometime in the morning. A/N: Ummm…sorry for the long wait but I had college stuff to deal with. Still not done but I couldn’t stay way for too long. Nehoot. Hope you liked. Cheers! Starox.

Chapter 11 She hit the floor with a painful thud and groaned, mentally damning Ardsley to regions of extreme temperatures and wondering with no small amount of incredulity, why she could have supposed him some kind, perhaps benevolent gentleman whose gruff exterior concealed some minute amount of goodness. How, in the name of all that was good, could she have allowed even the most infinitesimal amount of gratitude to creep into her mind regarding that man? Rolling, rising and disentangling herself from the sheets she’d hoped would have made such an incident that had just occurred more bearable, she stomped across the room and flung the earl’s door open. My lord had, in actuality, found sleep some mere moments before and far from appreciated the sudden noise of a door slamming into a wall that precipitated Victoria’s entrance. “The devil!” Was his reply to the sudden intrusion. “You sir, are the most monstrous of creatures!” The vixen spat, inches from the large four-poster where Ardsley hastily dragged the bedclothes at his feet over himself. Victoria colored brilliantly and only just held her apology in check; she refused to be deterred from her purpose by the unnerving reminder that the earl cast off clothing at night. She did refuse. “You’d best explain this madness, madam. And quickly.” My lord said softly. Unconsciously swallowing under his narrowed gaze, Victoria sent him a baleful look.

“I refuse to pass the rest of the night on that contrivance.” She said, in the manner of one giving an ultimatum, nodding towards the room she’d recently vacated where the possessed cotton arrangement lay in wait for her return. My lord was silent for several seconds before raising one quizzical eyebrow. “I may not be on this ship as your guest but, if you are gentleman enough to keep your word, I am to only remain your—a cabin boy outside of this cabin.” She had gritted her teeth on the ignominious words that described her position. A fact not lost to my lord who was tempted but resisted the temptation to tell his unwanted visitor to get out. So he wasn’t a gentleman? It passed bounds, her temerity. She stood now glaring at him, possibly daring him to prove her right and act ungentlemanly. Well hell and the devil, she deserved whatever side of him she got. “Exactly what where you hoping I would do, Miss Eden?” He asked, irritation at his conscience’s reaction to this callousness making him sound even more belligerent. Victoria blinked. What did she expect him to do? Well she should have thought that obvious. She expected him to…to…Leave his bed and engineer the arrival of a cot? Ha! His royal pomposity was unlikely to stir for any purpose other than to throw her out. What did she expect…no what did she hope he would do? The dreadful man. Well fine then. She was obviously not going to be begging him for any favors. After this prolonged period staring at his inscrutable features, she turned stiffly away and started for the door. But not before muttering, and of course with the thought that he would hear, “I was hoping you would act like a human being.” My lord heard – how could he not – and could not but observe the rigidity in her step which was an honest result of his own pettiness in requesting the hammock. He cursed under his breath before leaping out of the bed, bed clothes swathed around him and following her out of the room. She stood in front of the ‘contrivance,’ no doubt wondering how best to settle herself in its perilous hold. He was tempted to observe her efforts but, dreading another fall, put an end to her study. “You needn’t spend the night in the hammock,” He began, stiffly, when she turned at his cough. “You may have my bed.” He’d shocked himself but was loath to admit it or take his words back. Something shone in her eyes and she flushed, in anger, he guessed from her next words. “I will not sleep with you, Ardsley.” “I didn’t think you would.”

“So you may take yourself away while I attempt to end this night in one unbroken piece.” Victoria couldn’t resist the pouting tone in view of his lordship’s sudden discovery of conscience. “I will take the ‘contrivance;’ I’ve spent more than one night in such. In any case you wouldn’t be much use as a cabin boy with broken bones.” Victoria winced at the thought and, while she felt she ought to demure a bit, perhaps discount the severity of her injury, he might well take the offer back, tyrant that he was. Besides, he did claim some experience with the accursed…hammock, he’d called it. Though she did doubt it… “Why thank you, Ardsley,” She said before her conscience contrived to oust her from a comfortable bed. “You have quite outdone yourself with generosity tonight.” Now why could she not have kept that bit to herself? My lord stiffened but said nothing waiting for Victoria to vacate the room. She did but now felt the tyrant of the night. Closing his door behind her, she stood in the room itching to hit her head with something. How could you have been so petty, Victoria? He gave you his bed, for heavens sake. For that ridiculous hammock! Well the hammock was most likely his idea…That doesn’t excuse your words! You know better than that, Victoria. Yes, I know I know better than that; I didn’t intend to sound so ungrateful. Wait! Here I am being grateful. I should not be grateful! But he did part with his bed and he really needn’t have done that. But the hammock? Oh devil the man, I don’t know what to make of him. A thud on the other side of the door brought her out of her thoughts and caused a horrified laugh to burst from her. Well he’s obviously not too acquainted with that thing. Yes, I know that! She glared at the large bed for some time before going to it and allowing herself to sink for the second time into its softness. Her last thought was on a delightful scent that was part of the mattress. xx The kitten, observing my lord on the floor, decided an exploration that was long due must be conducted. Approaching with caution lest the large thing should stir, the ball of fur, gently tapped Ardsley’s nose. Fascinated by the twitching response its actions were causing, the kitten continued until Ardsley was forced awake and glared the feline into stillness. He rose, stiffly, and stretched; he had abandoned the hammock and had made a bed of the floor which, while not comfortable, was at least steady. He still blinked from the light pouring through the portholes when his bedroom door opened. Victoria looked nothing the male and my lord wondered how it came that none could fathom this with the ease with which he saw it. In rumpled breeches and a worse shirt, which opened, tantalizingly, to ivory skin and her dark hair curling about her in a sleep-styled haphazard fashion, she looked endearing and my lord was not immune.

“Thank heavens you’re awake, I wasn’t sure if I should wake and then I thought that I ought but I couldn’t…” She stopped, brightening, and James guessed what her quandary had been. So he bothered her as much as she did him? It was useful to know. “Good morning.” Victoria grinned easily at that remark; he was undoubtedly happy to be past the night. He responded in kind without thought and she found herself blushing once more and turned from him to hide it. His grin widened. So my little tiger, he thought, amused, we finally show some female tendencies. “I forgot my hat,” She said briskly, walking back into his room. She emerged with the crumpled fixture and pulled it on over her eyes not sparing him one more glance and heading for the door. She stopped, with her hand on the handle, and said, “Thank you for your bed, Ardsley.” Before she left his cabin. Thank you for your bed, Ardsley…now why did that sound familiar? He grinned as he made his way into his bedroom, the little tiger was proving more interesting than he’d expected. And that ‘thank you’ had been worth his bruising night. How hard had it been for her to say the words? He was still grinning as he sank into his bed. xx Mr. Devlin Worth was a most entertaining personage whom Victoria soon longed to be divested of. The young man’s intellect was praiseworthy and he seemed to enjoy her discourse as well. He was in fact the perfect candidate for an excellent friend on board the ship. And she would have had it so but the gentleman seemed pressed upon to make love to her at every opportune moment. Her eyes were incomparable. Her features, goddess-like. Her hair, ‘waves of lush ebony.’ That last had almost unstopped her mirth. She had hoped to escape by actually doing some of her ‘cabin boy’ duties but Worth wouldn’t hear of it and kept her away from all of the crew for near half the day. She contemplated slipping away while he continued his comparison of her eyes to the ocean, ‘rich with knowledge and yet staggeringly beautiful.’ Now that perhaps was a worthy effort but it was so undeserved that she felt she must laugh ere she burst. She could not slink away though; that would be inexcusably rude. “Mr. Worth.” “Please, ‘Devlin.’” “Devlin…I must ask you to stop this foolery. I am unsure from whence it came but it does you no credit when you can hardly say honestly that you are in earnest. Now, come, stop this and let us be friends.” She looked at him hopefully and he smiled a rather rueful smile. “You needn’t explain this business. In fact let us not speak of it.”

“You will not believe that I am in earnest?” He asked. “No, I am afraid not,” She said, relieved that his question held all the symptoms of halfheartedness. “Well then, friends it must be.” He acquiesced, with a smile. She returned it and continued, “And now you must spare my company for the captain’s likely declared me lost. And cook as well.” She escaped swiftly lest he had more to say on that. Devlin stood at the starboard and watched her amble – in what she no doubt thought was a solid imitation of a youth’s walk – towards the kitchens. So she was unmoved by words. Well that was unusual. He would simply try harder. A/N: Sorry everyone for the long wait but I’ve honestly had an unbelievable amount of work to do. Really. Nehoot, I’m hoping you all liked this chapter. Cheers! Starox. Hmmm...I'm thinking there's something wrong with this chapter...does James seem different? Well Cheers! Chapter 12 M. Bedeau, the Charleston’s cook, proved a surprisingly amiable host to what seemed to Victoria the greater part of the crew. She had seated herself, after her unobtrusive entrance, on one of the many barrels in the corner of the room and was observing their animated conversation, noting, after a while, that the men were all French. Émigrés? But so many on an English ship so soon after Napoleon’s banishment? She listened, her curiosity aroused, to each man recounting a tale of his home which, to her growing surprise, did not involve a daring escape from the over-turned country but were rather nostalgically recited stories of France in its ‘jours glorieux.’ In fact, judging from the impatient interruption made soon after one man had begun a tale from his childhood; these stories had been recycled several times before. A quarrel between both men seemed inevitable but the injured party, as well as everyone else, was soon quieted by some word the man in cynosure used. It was not French, Victoria’s was flawless but it seemed to hold a great significance for every man. “Caldoux” or something it had been but she couldn’t be sure she’d heard it correctly. “Etes-vous sûr? Qui a dit si?”

Bedeau had asked the questions and the man looked about to answer when someone gave a loud cough and directed them all to her person. She almost fell off the barrel in shock belatedly realizing that she shouldn’t have understood a word that had been said as a blush crept up her face. “Ne pas l'a des objections, Jacques; il ne peut pas comprendre.” She hoped Jacques would accept that and stop looking at her so damned suspiciously. “Bien je ne prendrai pas l'hasard. Should you not be attending the captain, boy?” It took her several moments to answer and when she did it was a stammered high pitched unintelligible thing that came out. She scrambled off the barrel to a rumbling of laughter from the Frenchmen. Stop acting so damnably nervous, Vi! They don’t know you understood a thing they said. “The captain wished for some solitude.” Solitude? What cabin boy says ‘solitude?’ Well I haven’t met many cabin boys thank you very much. She resisted the impulse to shake her head in an attempt to banish the voice refusing to give Jacques more reason for the frown that now seemed to be growing darker on his tanned face. “But I should go and see if he wants anything.” She said as she quickly made her way to the door. “Be sure to come down for his dinner this time.” Bedeau’s words were said as she was leaving and she made a sound of assent before closing the door behind her. She started to leave, ensuring that her steps would be heard by anyone who chose to listen for them and stopped only as she rounded a corner. As she expected, a head poked out of the door and checked the corridor before retreating. She could feel her heart beating wildly as she, as quietly as she could manage, made her way back to the door. It’s foolishness, you know. But it’s so very exciting! Yes, of course, the excitement. The reason you’re here? I came to help Angela. Yes, yes, you did. I really, really need to stop these conversations. She had reached the door and now leaned towards it slightly, not touching it but staying close enough to hear much of what was said within. She heard nothing of “Caldoux” but they seemed to be talking about the ships direction. Perhaps “Caldoux” is a place? “Now why, I wonder, does it bother me that my cabin boy has a tendency to be exactly where he shouldn’t?” She stifled a cry as her arm was gripped in a biting hold and she found herself being led away from the kitchen. “Why is that, Victor lad?”

The hold seemed to tighten and she wondered if he expected an answer. She glared at his inscrutable face and tried to tug herself free of his grip. “Let go of my arm, Ardsley.” She gritted out. “No. I don’t think I’m going to do that. You see, you and I are going to have long overdue conversation and I’ve never been fond of running after cabin boys.” “I won’t run.” She found it surprisingly hard to suppress a bubble of laughter at his words. Particularly as his eyes were glinting with that ferocious light they’d had on their first meeting on this ship. “I’m glad to hear it.” He was pulling her along at this point so she thought it wiser to concentrate on not tripping over something than to continue a strained argument. His cabin reached, he shoved her inside and locked the door behind him. “Sit.” He was already walking towards a chair at the table. “I’d prefer – “And I still don’t give a damn what you prefer, Miss Eden. Sit!” She bristled involuntarily at his tone but acquiesced, glaring at him from across the table top. His face remained blank but his eyes were piercing and she had to force herself to hold his gaze. He crossed his arms, leaned back in the chair and asked, “Who are you, Miss Eden?” “Well first of all, it isn’t Miss Eden! I am Lady Victoria Aurelia Eden, Viscountess Ryding.” “So you’re married.” It wasn’t a question. “No, I’m not married; the title comes from my grandmother on my mother’s side who refused to have it fall to any of the males in her family. She had a very low opinion of them. In any case the title was to fall to only the female members of her family. Of course, being male and unable to fathom this decision,” She continued with a marked degree of scorn, “They wouldn’t let her do it until she allowed that the land would be held by the eldest male relation until the female who held the title was to marry. Then it would be passed on to her husband. I suspect the only reason she compromised was because it was only their characters and not their business sense that she held in contempt. If that hadn’t been the case, I would never have to marry at all.” “The bane of your existence, I presume.” Far from taking offence at her condemnation of his entire sex, he found her tirade amusing and oddly endearing. Her cheeks had become flushed and her eyes sparkled.

“I didn’t think you would understand, sir, but I thank you to keep your amusement to yourself.” She snapped, daring him with her eyes to laugh. He wouldn’t; he had just discounted the unsettling possibility that she was who he’d been searching for and was now prepared to discover at his leisure what lay beneath that diminutive figure. “And why, Viscountess Ryding, are you here?” She stared hard at him before looking down into her lap. She was biting at her lower lip, unconsciously, he supposed and seemed to be puzzling over the question. That unsettling notion crept back but he refused to give it credit and waited. He would give her a chance to answer. That was, of course, if she intended to answer. A minute passed in silence before he prompted. “Victoria?” She didn’t look up but uttered some faint something. And then she sniffed and then a tear. A blasted tear fell into her lap. He swore under his breath; he never could deal well with tears. Steeling himself, he said, “I didn’t quite catch that.” She raised a tear stained, glaring face and all but shouted, “I said, I don’t know! I don’t know why I’m here. It was…it was…it’s all so stupid. And now I’m here, going God knows where and no one knows I’m here and it…and it is all so horrible!” She buried her face in her hands which rested on the table and shook. She had hiccupped several times during the speech and waved her arms about and looked so utterly desolate that he felt a painful tug in his chest. She was either the best damn actress ever to leave Drury Lane or was completely serious. Either way, his instinct was to comfort her and against better judgment, he rose and came beside her, made her rise and taking the chair, pulled her down into his lap. She only rebelled against this handling for a while before letting him hold her. And then she didn’t hold back her tears, they soaked his shirt front before she was reduced to sniffling. But even though at the moment she was very much like a child in his arms he could not suppress the stirrings her movements on him were causing. She’d stopped crying for several minutes now but still had her face buried in his shirt. He could feel her warm breath on his chest and stiffened. As if sensing the change in him, Victoria looked up. And she was staring at his mouth. Why the devil was she staring at him like that? It compelled him to do stupid things. Like bending his head and taking her lips in his. He tasted them as well as the soft tang of her tears. He kissed her softly, almost pulling her up to meet him; she met his lips in their soft yet persistent sucking, reaching up to keep him from moving away. Her hands caressed his hair and urged him to continue his assault. His tongue thrust into her mouth and sought hers. She seemed to hesitate for a second before engaging in the battle he looked for. And then the kiss lost its softness and became a demanding force that assaulted her senses making her heart beat faster against his chest and causing a strange but exquisite discomfort to grow between her legs.

xx Lord Adrian Eden, Viscount Fourding stared at the letter in bewildered anger; Victoria had really gone too far this time. She had left London? And for Chester? With only her maid as a chaperone?! It passed bounds! That she had tired of Dixon’s attentions was no excuse for such reckless behavior. What if her aunt was not at home when she arrived? What if her coach experienced an accident and she was stranded on the road? And why Chester for heavens sake!? But Victoria was not stupid, she no doubt planned this trip. That was it! She had planned it and Dixon offered the perfect excuse! But what did she want so far from England. There wasn’t a village for ten miles around that old house. And he hadn’t spoken to Augusta in years. Had Tory been corresponding? She was fond of the place. But why couldn’t she have told him? He had never been unreasonable. That was what annoyed him the most; that she had sneaked off as though he would have forced her to stay had she but explained her desire to leave town. It really wasn’t like Tory to leave like this… well perhaps it was…but that was one time in eighteen years that she hadn’t told him what she was up to. The letter was most certainly hers…but why would she leave like this? His mind went around the question several times before he decided he would write a letter expressing very seriously his wish that she return to London. Then it occurred to him that Chester was perhaps so far removed from everything that post might be an impossibility. He would go to Chester himself. He hadn’t seen Augusta in years after all. He would go to Chester and say some very serious things to his daughter before bringing her back to London. A/N:) Ahem…ok so I know I haven’t updated in…a very long time but thank you all for the reviews and you may expect reviews for my other stories very soon. Love! Starox. P.S: Please tell me what you think of the kiss. :)