A Gentleman By Any Other Name (18 page)

Julia turned in her chair, put a hand on the woman's arm. “Wait, please. I'd really like to know more about Chance, about his childhood. About the island.”

Odette smiled down at her. “Then ask him. The day he tells you, his heart is yours for the keeping. Do you want his heart?” The woman shook her head yet again. “No, say nothing. It is not yet time, I don't think.”

“But you came here,” Julia said as she lifted the
gad.
“You gave me this. Have…have you cast a
spell
on me? I mean, not that I believe such things, turning people into animals and such, but…have you?”

“I use my magic for good,” Odette said, gathering herself up to her full height, which was impressive. “Callie is a child and likes stories, so I amuse her. Black magic is for those whose souls live in the dark, those who embrace the bad
loa.
”

Julia nodded as if she understood, which she didn't. “Forgive me for questioning you, Odette.”

Odette grinned again, not a shadow in her eyes. “Questions make no never mind. Only be sure you wish to know the answers. I must be off.”

And, with no explanation as to why she must leave, Odette walked out, leaving Julia to sit alone in her chamber, to await Chance's arrival to, so he'd said,
discuss
the nuptials.

Well, the devil she would! If he wanted to speak with her, he could very well come find her, not expect her to be sitting there waiting for him. Besides, it was probably best to let him find her somewhere there was no bed in the room with her.

She went to the wardrobe to gather up her pelisse, then remembered she'd left it in the main salon. “Blast!” She pulled open drawers until she found the knitted shawl Mrs. Kester had made for her—to thank her for staying with her, holding her hand until the midwife had come and all through the birth of her son Henry—then headed for the back stairs.

This area of Becket Hall was new to her. She was fairly sure it would take three solid days to see it all, admire all the fine furnishings, but she did stop a few times to touch an exceedingly beautiful vase, to bend down to slide her hands over one of the silk carpets.

Eventually she made her way to a set of French doors in the music room and from there she was soon outside on the terrace and then making her way down to the shoreline.

The sun shone brightly, so that Julia wished she'd thought to bring her bonnet with her, and the breeze had stiffened, coming in from the Channel to ruffle her skirts and tease her hair around her head.

The wind coming in from the Channel on a fine day had always been considered invasion weather, and she wondered if Lieutenant Diamond and his men still believed a French invasion possible. What would it be like to look through one of the windows of Becket Hall and see a thousand small boats heading in toward the shore, the sunlight twinkling on ten thousand rifles, ten thousand bayonets?

Julia wrapped her arms around her as gulls circled overhead, and turned in the opposite direction of the stables and small village, minding her steps as the sand and shingle eventually turned mostly to sand. She then turned inland, as she'd heard the stories about the shifting sands of Romney Marsh and the dangers they presented the unwary.

Luckily there was a narrow path visible through the marsh grasses and the few hardy bushes that seemed to grow sideways, pointing her way inland. As she reached a small rise, it was as if all of the Marsh was displayed for her in its stark, mysterious beauty. Mostly flat land but with a myriad of towering church spires in the distance, visible to the horizon.

She smiled. Her father had told her he would like to think the abundance of churches reflected the deep faith of the inhabitants but knew, alas, that the church spires, rising up above the flat land, were often little more than navigational tools for the freetraders.

She looked back at Becket Hall rising majestically above a mostly flat land. No need of a church spire here, but only the lighted windows facing the sea, like so many beacons. So innocent, unless someone knew what she knew. Or what she thought she knew.

Julia saw the rider before she heard the hoofbeats and pressed the side of her hand against her brow to keep the sun out of her eyes as the huge red horse leisurely cantered toward her.

“Chance,” she said to herself. “I'd be no easier to find if they tied a bell around my neck.”

C
HANCE REINED IN
J
ACMEL
a good ten feet away from Julia and dismounted, tied the reins to the wrist-thick branch of a small, scrubby tree. “Thank God you turned inland, woman,” he said, taking hold of her upper arms. “Court and I were riding back after escorting the lieutenant and his men halfway to Dymchurch when I saw you. Nobody walks along the beach in this direction unless they know the way.”

Julia was shaking now, realizing she may have had a lucky escape. “So there are quicksands?”

Chance let go of her arms and stabbed his fingers through his hair. This woman was going to drive him straight out of his mind. “Why did I even bother thinking I might have to rescue you? How do I keep forgetting that you grew up learning about Romney Marsh?”

Julia considered the notion he'd been concerned for her, possibly even frightened. Either that or having her disappear would cause more trouble than anyone wanted, especially now that Lieutenant Diamond had seen her. She much preferred her first thought but couldn't dismiss the second.

So she pushed—just a little.

“For a dangerous area as this is, it's surprising that there would be such a well-worn path, isn't it? But as you say, for those who know the sands, it isn't treacherous at all. Only for those who don't. I'm sure someone has warned Lieutenant Diamond away, told him of the danger to his men if they were to patrol here.”

Lord save him from intelligent, prying women! Chance grabbed her by the elbow and drew her along with him toward the horse. “We'll walk back,” he said tightly. “Just let me untie Jacmel. Did you enjoy your walk?”

“Most of it, yes. Jacmel,” Julia said, also suddenly eager to change the subject. She realized that she was always eager to change the subject, mostly because she had said something she should not have said. “What does the name mean?”

“Jacmel is the name of a town I knew in the islands,” Chance said dismissively, for although he would much rather not listen to more of Julia's stabbing remarks about the smugglers, he was likewise reluctant to discuss the islands. “Here,” he said, digging into his pocket, one hand holding Jacmel's reins. “The moment didn't seem right earlier, on the terrace. But you should have this.”

Julia automatically put out her hand, then goggled at the ring he'd laid in her palm. It was heavily engraved gold, with a huge green stone surrounded by tiny pearls. The sun winked off the stone, dazzling her, and she stumbled into speech. “I…I can't take this. I don't want to take this. Where did you get this?”

He'd known she'd ask that last question. Most women wouldn't have, of course, but Julia Carruthers had her own definition of how she should behave. “It isn't polite to ask such questions, Julia,” he said, because, oddly, he wanted to hear her reaction to his small reprimand.

“Probably not,” Julia said in what he was learning was her matter-of-fact bluntness, still staring at the ring. “Here, take it back.”

Very nearly the straightforward answer he'd expected, almost to the word, as he had been thinking she'd say
absolutely not.
Still, her meaning was clear. And he
was
beginning to understand her. Anything he wanted, she automatically rejected out of hand.

So being a little contrary himself, he asked, “Would you like another stone? I thought the emerald would complement your eyes. But if you want sapphires? Or diamonds?”

“I simply want you to take this back,” Julia said, all but shoving the thing in his face. “Or do you think I haven't figured out what you and Ainsley and Jacko and the others
did
in the islands? Why you're all so remarkably wealthy?”

“We were legitimate traders,” Chance said, unaware that a tic had begun in his left cheek. “Or are you looking at that ring and seeing me with a cutlass between my teeth as I board and plunder ships? Is that what you've conjured up now in that maddening mind of yours, Julia? That we're nothing more than a crew of bloodthirsty pirates? And here I thought we were smugglers. Make up your mind, Julia.”

She didn't know what to say and she definitely didn't know how to say it. Did she really believe she was residing with a retired crew of pirates?

No, of course not; that was unthinkable, unimaginable. But privateers? That possibility made perfect sense to her, as far as things went. And wasn't it odd that Chance had immediately said
pirates,
not
privateers?
Privateers were allowed, even sanctioned. But privateers commissioned by what country? England? America? Spain? Or even Napoleon's France? The possibilities remained frightening.

“I…I'm sorry,” she said at last, sighing. “I shouldn't speculate, should I? When…when you wish to tell me, if you ever wish to tell me about the islands or…or anything, it will be your decision.”

Chance smiled, feeling the moment over or at the very least postponed. “I don't wish to tell you.”

“Oh,” Julia said quietly, remembering Odette's words. He'd certainly put her in her place, hadn't he? “I…I see. But I still can't accept this ring. It's all about deception, and I could never look at it or your family without remembering why I was wearing it.”

Chance's smile faded. “You are the most headstrong, obstinate, difficult, disobedient—aren't you going to interrupt me, tell me I'm wrong?”

“No,” Julia said calmly, hoping he didn't know how exciting she found this moment and the man who was looking at her in such obvious frustration. “I was waiting for you to say something to which I might be moved to take exception. And you forgot
contrary.
My father always included
contrary.
Now take this blasted ring and get rid of it!”

Chance looked at her for a long time before he felt the corners of his mouth turn up and he gave in to laughter. “Well, if one of us is to be obedient, it might as well be me,” he said, taking the ring from her and tossing it over his shoulder. “There. That's settled.”

And she had just been thinking how dangerously
adorable
he looked as he smiled at her? Julia's mouth dropped open, and she pushed him aside on the path, looking into the knee-high marsh grass. “You—you
idiot!
Where did it go? Did you see it land? No, of course you didn't. You were much too busy grinning like an ape, weren't you. Of all the imbecilic, ridiculous gestures—you really do carry off the palm, don't you?”

Chance watched in amusement, his arms crossed over his chest, as Julia plunged into the high marsh grass. “I thought you didn't care for the thing? Really, Julia, it's difficult to please you when you keep changing your mind. Do you want to ask for my assistance?”

She turned to glare at him, and he was fairly certain stronger men than he would have flinched. “I imagine you do,” he said, walking into the grass, still holding on to Jacmel's reins.

“Be careful, you'll trample everything and we'll never find the dratted thing.”

“Don't concern yourself, Julia. I hereby vow to remain here until the
dratted thing
is found. Hours, days, weeks. But only if you promise you'll wear the ring once it is found. Otherwise? It
is
only a ring. Next time I'll toss it into the Channel. Goodness, that sounds almost romantic, doesn't it? The spurned lover and all of that.”

Julia, bent over as she spread the grass and looked down, mumbled something she hoped he wouldn't hear and kept searching, feeling the damp penetrating her fabric half boots.

“Shame on you, if I heard what I thought I heard. And I really would rather not visit Hades, let alone live there. I, for one, consider this to be a grand adventure of sorts,” Chance said, pushing deeper into the grass, as he had a fairly good idea of how far he'd thrown the ring. As he stepped forward, he thought he saw something glinting in the sunlight.

And he had. He bent down and picked up a brass button much like that worn by Lieutenant Diamond when he'd visited Becket Hall. Now what could he suppose the dragoons were doing there, on Becket land? Court had told him that the beaches there weren't used by the smugglers he and the crew protected.

Still, the track, as Julia had said, was obviously in use. “Damn it, Court, don't you know well enough never to soil your own nest,” he muttered angrily.

“What did you say? Did you find it?”

Chance closed his hand around the button. “No, I'm afraid not, Julia. Wouldn't it be interesting if one of those gulls spied it from the sky, then swooped down and carried it off?”

Julia pulled a face at him and went back to poking through the grasses.
Foolishness.
That's what Odette had called it when she'd spoken about Chance's ridiculous behavior. “I'll have to tell Odette I was wrong to question her choice of words,” she grumbled, using a thin dead branch she'd found to poke her way.

This was useless, impossible. On a par with finding a needle in a haystack. And the ring was gorgeous. How she'd itched to slip it on, see how it looked on her hand. She'd done the right thing to refuse it, she knew that. But she could at least have tried it on….

“Got it!”

Julia stood up straight, a hand going to the small of her back, as she'd been bending down for longer than she thought, and looked toward Chance, who was holding up the ring so that it glinted in the sun…and looking odiously pleased with himself. “And I presume you're now feeling quite proud of yourself?”

“You know, as a matter of fact, I am. But did you know you're speaking to me without really opening your clenched teeth? It seems to me that only females can do that.”

Julia did her best not to throw the stick at him, then shot back, “Possibly, just as it's only males who can make perfect asses of themselves without growing a tail.”

“Touché.” Chance made his way toward her, Jacmel following, then escorted her back onto the path. “Your hem is damp, and I'm fairly certain your feet are wet. But if you don't mind, I'd like to linger here a little longer.”

“Until I take either a chill or the ring,” Julia said, then sighed. “Oh, very well. As long as we both agree that I'm only taking it to placate your family and that once this is over—whatever is going on here—that I will not hold you to the betrothal and once we leave here, the ring goes back to you. Oh, and that
you
explain everything to Alice.”

Chance frowned. “Alice? Oh, Christ. My list of sins with that child just grows and grows. Well that settles it. Now we'll simply have to marry.”

Julia went so far as to give him a push in the chest. “You're impossible! We'll…we'll figure out some hum to tell her once this charade is over. That I must go care for an ailing aunt or something. Once I'm gone and she's happy here, you can come to visit and tell her we just didn't suit or something. Tell her…tell her I've run off with my aunt's butcher for all I care. For now just…just give me that dratted ring and let's be done with this nonsense.”

“The butcher, is it? How lowering for me. Would you consider the local squire? I mean, I do have my reputation to think of here.”

When Julia sort of
growled,
he hurried on, “Very well, very well. Agreed.” He then handed over the ring, inwardly believing himself to be quite brilliant, for it would appear that he'd truly unsettled Julia. Which only seemed fair, as she certainly unsettled
him
with that talk about his daughter. “Although you may want to wash the thing before slipping it on your finger. It's rather sandy at the moment.”

He wasn't even going to put it on her finger? Julia felt her heart plummet to her feet as she slipped the ring into the pocket of her gown, a reaction she didn't prefer to study. “And you agree to my terms. Just like that?”

“That is what you want, isn't it, Julia?”

“Well…yes, but—but what about that nonsense you were spouting about compromising me?”

Chance was enjoying himself again, probably too much. Seeing Miss Julia Carruthers flustered was a sight to remember, hug close to his heart. “Yes, I remember, but you already said you wouldn't hold me to it. I believe you mentioned love and not wishing to marry without it. Or did I misunderstand you?”

“No,” Julia said quietly. “You didn't misunderstand me.”

“So it's settled. Because you see too much, you know too much and have unfortunately
said
too much and because you couldn't safely leave here unless you were under my protection and I'm, alas, not going anywhere for a while, we are now betrothed.”

“But you won't…you won't come to my bedchamber again, will you?” Had she sounded at all sad about that? She sincerely hoped she hadn't sounded in the least disappointed. Certainly he hadn't sounded in the least romantic. Which was what she wanted. Really. Maybe…

“I'm not a monster, Julia. I won't be invading your bedchamber unless I'm invited.”