Home Is the Sailor (29 page)

“Ambitious?”

“To be Countess, of course,” she said. “Surely you realize that you
will
be expected to marry.”

“Yes,” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation. “I do realize that. Father has already pointed out that it was a damned good thing—pardon the language, it was his, not mine—that I hadn’t tied myself to that damned actress when I was too damned young and stupid to think about my responsibility to The Family.”

She smiled, obviously recognizing the paternal style. “I thought he might have said something. I am sorry, Davy. Truly, I am. I used to envy your freedom to run off to sea, but we’re none of us free, are we?”

“Oh, we’re better off than most,” he said. “And I must not feel sorry for myself just because I have choices to make that most men would give their right arms for. After all, I suppose I
could
abandon my responsibilities and go off to sea—or to London, or anywhere else.” He shrugged. “But I can’t, you know. Even if I didn’t care twopence for any of you—and I do—the title would just follow me around like an albatross, and land on me sooner or later.”

“I’m sure Mr. Coleridge would be amazed to hear his poem used in such a context.”

“Well, follow me around like the Ancient Mariner, then. I sympathize with the old fellow—this is partly my own doing.”

“It was not—no more than it was mine. How could either of us allow Ronald to profit from murdering our brother? How long do you think it would have been before Father had an ‘accident’ of some sort?”

Put that way, he was able to accept her absolution. “I know.”

“Well then, what do you think of the idea?” she persisted. “I know it is unusual, but just consider our sister Mary. She wed Lord Crandall for rank and fortune, and made no secret of her ambition. He married her for her beauty and charm. If there is no great love between them, they are at least satisfied with the arrangement, and their children seem happy.”

“She is fond of him, I think,” Davy said, though he’d said much the same to Will long ago about Mary’s businesslike arrangement.

“And I think you and Jane are fond of one another. Friendship is a good basis for a marriage, is it not? For that matter, if things had been otherwise, I would have looked favorably upon Captain Marshall.”

“And he on you, I think— Oh, this is absurd, Lia. We could never make such an arrangement work.”

“Why not?” she asked.

He started to reply, but was unable to form a rebuttal. Her suggestion was, in fact, the first glimpse he had of a future that might include Will in a socially acceptable way, even if he were not willing to leave the sea and make his home in Devonshire. As long as they were building castles in the air, why not build a grand one? What if Will were to be given some sort of assignment that would allow him to stay in England—a position in the Admiralty, for instance? That wouldn’t hold the glory or chance of prize-money that he would get from regular service in the Navy, but if he were to marry Amelia, her marriage portion added to his prize money would provide a comfortable living. He would not need to buy a place for himself, either. This house was easily large enough for them all, particularly since there was likely to be a dearth of offspring.

Will would never consider such a thing, of course. Not only was Will averse to life ashore, he could be amazingly stubborn, and David had long suspected that he was actually afraid of women.

But Will did like Amelia, at least. That might be a start.

“I’ll speak to him,” he said.

Chapter Seventeen

“If this is a joke,” Marshall said, “I don’t think much of it.” He had thought that Davy merely wanted to get out of the house for awhile, when he suggested that they take a ride together, and he was happy to oblige. The day was overcast, but the sun was doing its best to break through the clouds. They had ridden to one of those lovely quiet places Amelia had mentioned, a narrow stream where they dismounted and sat on a few tumbled stones, watching the water run. Will had been content—until he was faced with this absurd proposition.

“You know I would never joke of such a thing, Will. But this could solve so many of our problems.”

“And create far more, I think!”

“How so? It would mean that this could be your home, too. You would not even have to go back to sea, if you chose to stay.”

“A year ago, you were urging me to go back to sea.” Will smiled at the memory, bittersweet though it was—he and Davy huddled together under the covers at Kit’s estate in Jamaica, waiting for the dawn that might part them forever. “You spoke of duty, and how I was needed.”

“Perhaps I’ve grown more selfish—or less willing to see you sacrificed. I suppose you will be needed. And, Will, if—no,
when
the call comes, I expect you will answer it.”

“It’s all I know how to do.” As the words left his mouth, he realized how true that was, and how much it meant to him—that there was something he could do, and do well.

Davy raised an eyebrow. “Are you speaking of the Navy, or commanding a ship?”

“They’re one and the same.”

Davy reached across the chasm that had opened between them—only a foot or so between them, but it seemed like miles—and put his hand on Will’s. “No, they’re not, not really. England is an island. All things come and go by water. What matters, I think, is where your ambition truly lies. I have a cousin whose family owns a fleet. If what you want is a ship, I know one could be found.”

“A merchantman?”

Davy smiled. “Well, yes—and your face tells me that you do
not
consider that the same thing.”

“I had never considered it at all. But would that not make me a hired hand, and ‘in trade,’ and less than a gentleman?”

“If you were the owner, or even part owner—no, hear me out, Will—a man who owns his ship can do as he likes with it, so long as you don’t mean to start smuggling.”

“I could never afford to run a ship.”

“
You
could not.
We
could, together. This estate has interest in some of the major trading companies. If you were to use some of your prize-money to buy interest in a ship, no one save our man of business need know what the division of shares might be.”

Will saw the problem with that immediately. “I have no head for business, either. Nor any experience—”

Davy waved a hand impatiently.  “Nor any need—what do you think a man of business is for? But if you must, go back to the Navy, or something like it. We might see if Sir Percy has enough influence to get you a post with the Sea Fencibles.”

“He couldn’t possibly. They were disbanded.”

“They’ll be re-formed quickly enough when the war resumes. Can you think of a better job for someone with intelligence experience than as a spy-catcher, intercepting smuggled gold and information? You would be the ideal man for a command in that service, and if you were stationed near Plymouth—”

“Impossible!”

“Will, I don’t mean to cause you distress. I am only trying to discover some way that we may at least see one another from time to time. God knows I did my best, but you set me ashore—” He raised a hand, forestalling Will’s protest. “I do not blame you, I should probably feel the same in your place. In any case, my duty lies here now. I could not go with you now, even if you would have me.”

Will cursed his own weakness. “It’s not that I don’t want you—”

“I know, Will.” Davy held Will’s eyes in that contact more intimate than a kiss, then looked away. “I know.  And yet here we are, where neither of us wants to be.”

He released Will’s hand, stood and walked to the edge of the water. “Perhaps I’m only playing make-believe in thinking there is any hope for us at all. I look out at this land, this beautiful place, and I see an army of people, all counting on me to care for them. More than that—they count on me to marry and raise a child who will see to it that the place is looked after when I’m gone. There is an
oblige
that goes with
noblesse
, when all’s said and done.”

“Other officers leave their wives to manage,” Will said. “Look at Lady Pellew. Sir Edward has no qualms—”

“That situation is entirely different,” Davy replied. “My mother would never attempt to take the reins here, even if she were able. And no matter how fond he may be of Amelia, there is no way my father would allow his daughter to step into his shoes in managing the estate, even though I am sure she could do it. But you forget our original dilemma. As I said long ago, if I were to stay in the Navy it would only be if I were to serve with you. Are you saying that you have had a change of heart on that subject?”

Will shook his head. “I wish that I could, but even so—”

“Yes. Even so, everything has changed. I care about my home. I care, despite myself. I had not expected to feel such an obligation, but even before I suspected Ronald, the thought of watching him loot Grenbrook to support his own vices...I thank God we were able to stop him. I’ll never be the man Mark was, but I mean to do my best.”

“I know you will,” Will said. It should have been easy to be angry with Davy for his ridiculous proposition, but he found it impossible. With their dream of a life together already foundered, it was no surprise that his lover might snatch at this improbable scheme. “It’s simply...Davy, I know you used to joke about my marrying your sister, but—I think she likes me, but I know she does not love me. Why in the world would she even suggest such a thing?”

“Because she has no real desire for a husband,” Davy said.

Will blinked stupidly. “Would you care to explain what you mean by that?”

“Will, I would like to. In fact, that is why I brought you out here, away from everyone. I must ask you not to shout, or get excited.” He came back, sat close, and lowered his voice. “Please try to be calm.”

“I am— “ He caught himself and took a deep breath. “Very well. I am calm.”

“You’re not, but thank you for making the effort. Now, do you remember how Barrow discerned the precise nature of our friendship, and decided to keep it secret out of regard for us?”

“Yes. What has that—”

“It’s much the same thing. Amelia has also discerned—”

“Oh, no,” Will said. “Your sister? Davy, what would a maiden lady know about—”

“Love?” Davy’s smile was ironic. “Will, she
is
my sister. Until I met you, she was the one person in the world with whom I could be myself, though of course I never told her of all the years I was smitten with you. She and I were speaking of the changes in my situation, particularly the fact that I am now expected to marry and beget an heir—something I recall you once urged me to do, in no uncertain terms.”

“Yes, but—”

“She suggested that we might all help one another. You could marry her with no obligation to give her a child, though that is something you might both reconsider at some point; it would not distress me in the least. I could marry Cousin Jane, and provided we were all extremely discreet—”

“Davy, that might do very well for us, but it hardly seems fair to the ladies. And what’s so funny?”

Davy’s eyes were dancing. “My dear Captain Marshall, the ladies have their own arrangement. Why do you think they wished to set up a spinster establishment together?”

That was a notion that Will’s mind could not encompass. He could feel his ears turning red.

“Try not to dwell on it,” Davy advised kindly. “I hardly imagine they reflect too much on the particulars of what we do when we are private together. At least, I hope to God they don’t!”

Will closed his eyes. It didn’t help. But since he knew next to nothing about women, his imagination soon ran blessedly dry.

“Will?” Davy prodded his shoulder. “Speak to me, sir!”

“I would if I could think of anything to say. It sounds mad.”

Davy smiled, relaxing a little. “It does, I agree. And there’s the matter of an heir, which Jane is apparently willing to provide if I wish—and Lord knows, she’d have the worst of the bargain. I am…undecided on that aspect of the question. But that isn’t a dire necessity, since we’d also have the unentailed property. Even if Grenbrook were to go to some cousin or other, the ladies would be left with a handsome living after you and I are gone. Assuming we go first, of course.”

“It all seems rather cold-blooded,” Will said. “Less so, perhaps, than if you were to marry some stranger for the sake of an heir—”

“Not cold-blooded at all,” Davy objected. “If you want
sangfroid
at its chilliest, look at Ronald’s alliance with poor Lenore. He married her to get his hands on her inheritance, and, I’m certain, did away with her as soon as possible after her grandparents died. This would be a matter of four people who care about one another forming a family for mutual support and protection. When you look at it, Will, isn’t that what a family is meant to be?”

Will felt backed into a corner. “Mr. Archer, I hardly know these ladies! I met them barely a fortnight ago, and you are suggesting that I—”

That, finally, stopped Davy’s campaign. His face fell. “My God, you’re right. I apologize, Will. I’ve known them all my life, and I feel I’ve known you at least that long, so it seemed...Forgive me. Let us speak no more of it.”

“I am not refusing to consider the idea,” Will amended. “Rationally, I can see the merit in it. But your sister may change her mind. She is young, after all—”