Mistress Below Deck (24 page)

Matthew nodded, accepting this. ‘How did Mason die?'

‘He was shot in a skirmish with a British naval vessel.'

Matthew became thoughtful. ‘And good riddance. It would seem I have done Mr Searle a grave injustice. With good reason I truly believed he was the one who shot me.'

‘He wasn't there. He had left to find the harbour master. You were right not to trust Jack Mason. He had every intention of inciting a mutiny and seizing the
Dolphin
for himself.' She leaned forward and took his hand. ‘Father, where is the
Rowena Jane
? I looked for her, but she wasn't at her moorings.'

‘No, I had a buyer.'

‘Who?'

‘Lord Tregowan. He—has been most generous.'

‘Then the money from the sale must go to Tobias Searle.'

Matthew nodded. ‘I am deeply indebted to him—in a way I can never repay.'

Rowena looked away, wondering what he would say if she were to tell him that the debt had been paid in full. ‘So we are no better off, which is all the more reason why I must marry Lord Tregowan—if he still wants me.'

Matthew looked at his daughter, holding her gaze. ‘You will see him?'

‘Yes. He has not withdrawn his offer of marriage?'

Matthew averted his eyes. ‘No—quite the opposite. He has been eager for your return. Tomorrow he will call on you.'

‘I am surprised he still wants me to be his wife. I am under no illusions, for, despite my legitimate reasons for going after Jane, my reputation will be tarnished. There will always be gossip and speculation about me.'

Matthew chuckled softly and chucked her under the chin as he used to do when she was a child, showing something of his old self. ‘And when did Rowena Golding ever give a damn about what others think? Never. Now go and get John to wheel me back inside. I feel a chill.'

Rowena was up early the next day. Feeling the need to set her eyes on the
Cymbeline
in the hope of seeing its master one last time before committing herself to another man, she went down to the harbour. Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked at the sea. Casually she scanned the wide expanse of water, looking at the ships at anchor and searching for the one she knew best, the one with a jaunty crimson-and-gold flag fluttering from its mast. But where was it? Panic set in and she became almost frantic. It had to be there—somewhere. Her feet took her towards the quay where she paused to ask a fisherman sitting on a cask smoking his clay pipe what had happened to the
Cymbeline
.

‘Gone,' he informed her with a gesture to the sea with his arm. ‘Sailed with the tide early morning.'

Feeling as if every drop of blood had left her brain, leaving her faint and sick, Rowena thanked him and began walking away from the harbour. Gone! Tobias had gone, and he had not even bothered to say goodbye. Oh, how could he do that—and how could she bear it?

Utterly dejected, she turned for home and her expected meeting with Lord Tregowan.

Everyone was on tenterhooks as they awaited Lord Tregowan's arrival. Rowena paced the hall, beset with apprehension, not knowing what to expect. When the moment finally arrived and the tall figure of Tobias appeared in the doorway, giving her his full attention, her shock was so great that her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

His face was shadowed, his eyes luminous. He seemed taller, bigger and more splendidly dressed, more magnificent than she had ever seen him. Wearing midnight-blue breeches and frockcoat, pristine white silk vest and a sky blue neckcloth at his throat, his black hair pulled back and tied at the nape, she was in awe of his lordly grandeur.

Her heart soared and beat with joy, for she truly believed he had sailed away. Why was he here? Had he missed her? Was he here to ask her to be his bride?

Tobias halted in front of her. Could this elegant young woman in her fetching periwinkle-blue gown, her hair elegantly coiffed, be the cabin boy he had come to know and love?

‘Hello, Rowena. Have you missed me?'

Rowena stared, barely able to absorb it. Her heart pounded. She felt something inside her breaking free of its shackles, a rightness, an audacity such as she had never possessed.

‘Tobias! Of course I've missed you. But—I was expecting Lord Tregowan.'

‘Then I hope I don't disappoint you.'

‘But—but what are you saying?' She could not form the question, though her mind raced frantically for a logical answer. ‘But Lord Tregowan is…'

‘What, Rowena? A doddering ancient?'

Bewildered she glanced about, unable to settle her misting gaze on any one thing while her mind flew in frenzy. ‘Well—I don't know. We've never met, but I assumed…'

Tobias chuckled. ‘My dear Rowena. You should never assume anything. Invariably you will be wrong. I am Lord Tregowan, and as you can see I am no ancient.' He reached out to take her hand.

‘Don't touch me,' she flared, stepping back, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. She was absolutely furious. The identity of Lord Tregowan was more surprising, more unnerving, than she had ever imagined or even tried to prepare herself for.

‘How could you? How could you do this to me? All this time you have let me believe you were someone else… You duped me—twice, for the first time I thought you were Mr Whelan. Next you duped me into believing I was to marry an old man. If you cared anything for me at all, you would have eased my fears and told
me.' Unable to look at him a moment longer, she turned and stalked towards the window.

Tobias sighed and bowed his head as a heavy guilt descended on him. He moved to stand behind her, his heart wrenching with pain when he saw her slender shoulders tremble with her silent weeping.

‘Rowena, my love…'

‘Don't call me that. I am not your love!' She spun round, and her tear-filled eyes blazed at him as she choked on her sobs. ‘You—you are a monster!' she cried, her voice ragged with emotion. ‘You tricked me. You tricked my father. When I think of the time I gave myself to you—how you held me in your arms—how I love you… Oh, how you must have laughed at me, at my stupidity, my gullibility.'

She was glaring at him as if she could do him harm, and her fine-boned profile was tilted obstinately to betray her mutinous thoughts. Tobias truly believed she did not realise what she had just said, and his heart almost burst with thankfulness. He could not help but wonder at the substance of this woman. He had known no one like her, and the disturbing fact was that she seemed capable of disrupting his whole life no matter what character she portrayed.

‘I never laughed at you. I wanted you, and I knew of no other way I could have you.'

‘But you should have told me.'

‘How could I? You hated me, remember? As did your father. Believing me guilty of almost killing him and refusing to listen to reason, he would never have allowed
me anywhere near you, so I resorted to subterfuge. I could not have won you any other way. Both you and your father would have scoffed at my proposal.'

Dashing the back of her hand across her cheeks to wipe away her tears, she stared at him wide eyed. ‘You mean—even then…'

‘I wanted you, Rowena, so please don't berate me for using my wits to obtain that which I desire. Mason's apprehending of the
Petrel
was like handing you to me on a plate. You came to me for help because there was no one else who could. When I refused to take you with me, I did so out of concern for you, and when your father accepted my offer of marriage to you—without being aware of my true identity—I knew you would be waiting when I returned.' He grinned. ‘How was I to know you had ideas of your own and would smuggle yourself aboard my ship in the guise of my cabin boy?'

Recollecting her father's attitude and suspecting something was not quite right, she said, ‘Is my father now aware of who you are—and that it is you who purchased the
Rowena Jane?'

‘Yes. She will work out of Bristol, along with my other ships. My lawyer explained everything to your father after we left Falmouth—about Mason and what really happened on Antigua, but he swore him to secrecy, insisting that I be the one to explain everything to you on our return.'

‘And—he didn't create a fuss?'

‘Apparently not. He was so relieved I had gone to
look for Mason—and Jane—that he would have sold his precious ship to the devil.'

‘But—your name—the Tobias Searle depicted on your flag?'

‘Not Tobias Searle, Rowena. The S is for Searle, but the T is for Tregowan. I am Tobias Tregowan by birth, and Tregowan Hall is my birthright. When I was a child I lived in Bristol with my parents. My father—George Tregowan, a successful shipping merchant—died when I was but a babe. My mother married again—to James Searle. He was a fine man—a shipping merchant like my father. The two companies merged—which explains the pennant. To simplify matters, my mother thought it best that I was addressed as Searle.'

‘But why did you not come to Tregowan Hall when Lord Julius died in the fire?'

‘When my education was complete, on the death of my stepfather I took over the business, coming to Tregowan Hall only seldom to ensure the estate was being well run.'

‘And now?'

‘Now I have decided to live there permanently.'

‘But the
Cymbeline?
I looked for it…'

‘Its captain is taking it to Bristol. This is where I shall remain. It's high time I had a wife to give me ease and comfort and to bear my children in due course. I shall employ others to run the business—though I shall keep my finger on the pulse from here—and I shall visit Bristol often.'

‘And my father's debt to you?'

‘Will be cancelled on the day you become my wife.'

‘What about the compensation owed to those men who were injured?'

‘They will be taken care of. I accept Jack Mason was solely responsible for what happened, and no longer blame your father.' Moving closer, he cupped her chin in his hand with a soft beguiling smile. ‘Marry me, Rowena. Don't hesitate. Know that I love you.'

She tilted her head to one side, a mischievous smile tempting her lips. ‘And you're sure of that, are you, Tobias?'

‘I have never been more sure of anything in my life.'

‘But—in Gibraltar, you said you wouldn't marry me.'

‘Not exactly. What I said was that I would not make you Mrs Searle. When we wed, you will become Lady Tregowan.' He grinned. ‘You're the most stubborn, unconventional, argumentative woman I have ever met and I am sure I shall have a great deal of trouble with you, but it seems that I do love you—and I know you love me.'

‘You do?'

‘You've just told me.'

Her smile widened when she realised she had. ‘So I did.'

‘What do you say, Rowena?'

‘Well, it's a strange offer, Tobias. If my memory of the time we spent in Gibraltar is correct, it shouldn't take you long to convince me that it's an offer I can't refuse.'

‘No, you can't.' He cocked a sleek black brow and a crooked smile curved his lips. ‘Our bargain is not complete.'

Surprise widened her eyes. ‘It isn't?'

‘You owe me one more night. When I offered to pay your sister's ransom, we agreed that payment would be made in kind—remember?'

Laughter bubbled to her lips. ‘And I thought it must have slipped your mind.'

‘I never forget what is owed, my love.'

‘Then I suppose I shall have to settle my debt. When?'

‘When you become my wife.'

They were married four weeks later on a warm and sunny October day. The bridegroom insisted on it and the whole of Falmouth and beyond was buzzing with it when it became known. A proud Matthew Golding—who had made his peace with his future son-in-law—was wheeled to the church to witness the union of his eldest daughter to Lord Tregowan. Jane looked radiant, the glow in her eyes enhanced because of the attentive presence of Edward Tennant, who had lost no time in calling at Mellin House when he heard she had returned.

Rowena and Tobias exchanged their vows in a church packed to the rafters with guests. The love they felt for each other and the strength of that love was there for all to see. It was a love that filled Rowena with wonder, which was often violent and passionate. It glowed and flamed with a fervour that stole their breath in its sudden spontaneity.

Afterwards the celebrations and toasts at Tregowan Hall went on into the night. Tobias danced his bride of several hours off the packed dance floor into the privacy
of an alcove. Rowena smiled up at him. He looked positively dazzling in black velvet knee breeches and frock-coat, delicate lace cascading from his throat and spilling over his wrists.

Cupping her face in his hands, he placed his mouth carefully on hers and breathed her name and said something so quietly only she could hear.

‘My darling bride, my love for you is endless. You are the most precious thing in my life—my treasure.'

Her laughter was so light and joyous it touched his heart. ‘And you, my lord, are beginning to sound like a poet. Are you always so eloquent when you are in love?'

‘How would I know that? I have never been in love before. Would you like another dance, my lady?'

‘Have we not danced enough?'

His eyes narrowed and shone with a wicked gleam. ‘Not the dance I like to do best—with its own music and its own rhythm. Shall we go upstairs?'

She placed her hand on his proffered arm. ‘The guests?'

‘Won't even know we're gone.'

Alone in their room his mouth covered hers, and they danced until dawn.