Ransome's Honor (20 page)

The directness of his gaze didn’t make her task any easier. She stopped, staring at the flowering vine hanging from the branch over William’s head. “When I was a girl, I always looked forward to receiving letters from my father. His tales of life at sea intrigued me. Your name appeared quite often in those missives. I know how highly he regards you. He looks upon you almost as a son.” She’d gotten the words out without choking. This was so much harder than she’d imagined, and the setting was not helping matters any.
Business. Keep it strictly business.

“I hope you do not think I have in any way attempted to take the place of your brother.” William’s soft voice drew her gaze down. Her anxiety started to melt at the frown that creased his handsome face.

“No, no, I do not think that.” She tried to regulate her breathing. “You would be too polite to mention it, but I know you have noticed the tension between my aunt and me and that she desires me to marry—to marry Sir Drake Pembroke.”

As the moment drew nearer, she started pacing again. “I have learned she plans for the banns to be read Sunday announcing that I am engaged to Sir Drake. Even though my father will not have given his blessing, once the banns are read—” She stopped and hugged her arms around her waist.

“Your father would not be able to decline his permission without doing great harm to your reputation as well as his.” William rose and took up Julia’s pacing.

“Exactly.” She sank onto the bench, still warm where he’d occupied it. “That is why I wanted a private interview with you.”

The colored lantern-light sparkled off the buttons and braid of his uniform as he moved back and forth in front of her, hands clasped behind his back, head bent, brow furrowed.

Lord, give me
strength.
“I—I wish to enter a business arrangement with you, Captain Ransome.”

He turned on his heel to face her. “A business arrangement?”

Nodding, she tried to swallow the fear rising in the back of her throat. “Yes. My greatest desire is to return home-to Jamaica-and see to the running ofTierra Dulce. This is something I know Sir Drake will never allow should I marry him. Therefore, since my aunt insists on having my marriage banns published this week, I must find someone else to be my husband. That is why I wanted to speak to you tonight.”

“Me?” He blanched.

Oh dear, he wasn’t taking this well. “As I said, I wish to make this a business arrangement. You know that I will receive thirty thousand pounds upon my marriage. I am also my father’s sole heir. He will allow me to live on the Jamaica plantation for the rest of my life. I know you have no desire to marry me, but if you will—only for a year—we can then ask for an annulment and you can keep the dowry for yourself and remain my father’s legal heir.”

He stared at her.

She dropped her gaze to her hands. She’d made a mess of it. Rambled on and on. Given him cause to think she’d lost her mind.

“Julia!”

Her head snapped up at the shrill voice. Close on her aunt’s heels followed Sir Drake. Julia rose, regret clogging her throat. At least she’d tried coming up with an alternative solution. Tomorrow, she would send William a letter of apology for inconveniencing and embarrassing him.

“What do you think you are doing out here alone with him?” Lady Pembroke spat. “I should have known you weren’t to be trusted, sir. All sailors are just alike. Not caring the least for a woman’s reputation.”

William drew himself up. “I apologize, Madam, if there has been any impropriety in my actions toward your niece.”

Julia wasn’t sure she could survive a lifetime of being pawed by Sir Drake Pembroke—and worse, of knowing he was gambling away her father’s hard-earned fortune. Resigned, she rose and stepped forward.

“However,” William continued. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to Julia in such a tone.”

Her heart flipped. Had he meant to call her by her Christian name? She glanced up at him.

Lady Pembroke’s mouth dropped open. “Insolent puppy! I am her guardian, and I may speak to her however I please.”

“I am sorry, Lady Pembroke, but I cannot allow you to speak to my intended that way.”

Chapter Nineteen

W
illiam’s stomach sank faster than a hulled ship. What had he done?

“Your—intended?” Lady Pembroke gaped at him, an expression that shattered her carefully cultivated refinement.

Sir Drake grabbed Julia’s arm and yanked her toward him. “She is
my
intended.”

“Unhand her.” William stepped between Julia and the baronet, reaching for the hilt of his cutlass that wasn’t there. He fisted his hand instead. Oh, how he wanted Pembroke to refuse.

Sir Drake scowled, but Julia yanked her arm away from his grasp. William moved her directly behind him.

Drake did not back down. “You will remove yourself, sir. Julia is to marry me. Her father will sign the wedding articles when he returns from London.”

William resisted the urge to pound the man’s face to a pulp and to step away from the stench of alcohol on his breath. “Indeed? I find that fascinating, given the fact I have already received Admiral Witherington’s permission and blessing to marry Julia.” Sir Edward had given it twelve years ago when William asked for Julia’s hand. He assumed it still stood.

Pembroke’s expression turned smug. “But you are not yet legally wed. Banns must be read for three weeks before a marriage can take place. Objections can easily be raised.”

“And why do you assume we will not marry by special license?” William’s stomach churned. When he’d stepped between Julia and her cousin, he hadn’t thought through how complicated this “business arrangement” might become.

Pembroke raked his glance up and down William’s uniform. “Because you are—”

“A post captain in the Royal Navy?” William scowled—an expression that made lower-ranked officers squirm.

Drake snorted with derision. “A man of obscure birth with no family name of consequence, no hereditary title, and no property.”

Julia gasped. “Aunt—have you nothing to say?”

“Drake, that is quite enough.” Lady Pembroke sounded anything but contrite. “Julia has apparently made her decision and we must capitulate to it. Come.” She tugged on his sleeve.

Pembroke gave William one last glare and turned to slither off behind her.

William swallowed. That had been the easy part. Now he had to face Julia. He tugged at the waist of his coat and turned.

Julia’s green eyes fixed on him in wide disbelief. “How can I ever thank you? When they came upon us—I—” She shook her head. “I was trying to reconcile myself to a life with
him.”
She nodded the direction Pembroke had disappeared. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, then looked up at him and tried to smile. “I promise I will not be a burden to you. I will stay to my quarters as much as I can—”

“Your quarters?” Of what could she be thinking?

“Yes. Aboard
Alexandra.
Remember? One of the reasons for our business arrangement is so I can travel with you to Jamaica.”

Lips pressed firmly together, he closed his eyes and expelled his breath. He’d forgotten about that part of the deal. A ship was no place for a woman.

Julia clasped her hands at her waist. “I know it has been a score of years, but you should remember I sail well. I don’t get sick, even in the worst of storms; I know the schedule and the bells; I’m handy with a needle; and I can help teach and mind the younger boys.”

“I don‘t—my cabin isn’t—” The two-day voyage from Yarmouth to Portsmouth with a commodore and his wife aboard had justified William’s policy of no women allowed on his ship. But if they were to marry, he couldn’t very well insist Julia find another means of transport to her island home. As a man of honor, he had to follow through on his tacit acceptance of the arrangement. “Would you be uncomfortable, being the only female aboard?”

“The only—” She clamped her mouth shut, then shook her head. “No. I am willing to sacrifice any comfort necessary to get back home.”

“I will write to your father and make the arrangements.” He cringed at the harsh edge to his voice. The poor woman had been through enough tonight; she didn’t need his acrimony as well. He offered his arm. “Shall we return to the house?”

She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and walked beside him in a silence that unsettled him. What would his men think? William was renowned throughout the fleet for his refusal to allow even a female cat aboard his vessel. Would his crew think him a hypocrite for marrying and bringing his wife aboard?

His wife. The word chilled him. Although Julia offered to request an annulment after one year, to William marriage was a lifetime commitment. He would be forever bound to her alone-his future in her emotional, illogical feminine hands.

Their meandering walk through the garden had taken them around the house and closest to the doors opening into the ballroom. He gave a curt bow to the couple they passed in the wide doorway. Then, like a sudden storm at sea, whispers swelled up and surrounded them as they entered the ballroom. Gossip of how the handsome, wealthy Captain Ransome had taken pity on poor Lady Pembroke’s
spinster
niece by order of the admiral. Expressions of sorrow for Lady Pembroke being saddled with such a headstrong, obstinate niece who had refused several perfectly good offers of marriage in Jamaica and had snubbed Sir Drake Pembroke in public two nights ago. All in that inconvenient tone of voice seemingly private but meant to be overheard by the object of the secret.

William pressed his free hand over Julia’s where it rested on his arm, and her fingers curled around his. She kept her eyes trained forward, her chin up, a pleasant expression on her attractive face. He admired her strength of character in ignoring the intentionally hurtful remarks. He could well imagine that the past nine months had been torture for a woman whose interest swayed more toward account books than the latest fashions.

Skirting the perimeter of the room to get back to the conservatory, he heard not only the whisperings about Julia but also speculations of his own wealth—most underestimated by half at least—and which rich young woman would capture his regard once he had fulfilled his duty to Admiral Witherington of attending Julia.

Several chaperones standing sentry nearby watched from behind their fans, no doubt waiting to see who would take pity on Julia and dance with her next.

As with a captured ship, he needed to run up his colors and claim his prize. He cleared his throat. “Julia, my dear,” he said, his voice louder than necessary, pulse pounding in his ears, “shall we rejoin the others in the conservatory and tell them our news?”

She glanced at him in surprise, then over her shoulder at the unmistakable gasps and buzz of voices behind her. The older women whirled around to pretend they hadn’t been listening.

Julia’s cheeks flamed, but amusement danced in her green eyes. “Why, yes, W-William.”

He nodded his approval and led her through the gaggle of intensely whispering women toward the music room.

The crowd ahead of them parted. “William, Miss Witherington—Susan has had me searching the house for you.” Collin’s smile came as a welcomed sight. “Come into the conservatory. Too stuffy out here.” His friend looked about the room with a sniff. “You have to save us, William. Admiral Glover has had us under siege with stories of the West Indies.”

“Is the admiral familiar with the Caribbean?” Julia asked, fatigue edging her voice. The bright candlelight gleamed in her emerald eyes.

William drew in a deep breath and tried to calm his heart, racing at the thought of telling his mother and friends of their engagement. “Aye, he claims to have been around the world three times.”

“And loves to talk about it whenever he has a captive audience.” Collin grimaced.

They followed Collin over to join Susan, who eyed them suspiciously.

“And where have you two been?”

Julia flushed and dropped her hand from William’s arm. “For a turn about the garden.”

“You have been gone quite some time.”

“Where is my mother?” William looked around the room. She should be the first to hear of the engagement.

“Here I am, behind you, son.” She excused herself from Mrs. Hinds and joined them. William steered his mother and friends to an unoccupied corner of the large room.

“Mother, Collin, Susan.” He took a fortifying breath. “Miss Witherington and I have this evening entered into an engagement.”

Tears sprang into Susan’s eyes, and she threw her arms around Julia. Collin regarded William for a moment, shrugged, and then grinned and offered his hand. “Mason owes me twenty quid. What interest I could charge after twelve years!”

William shook Collin’s hand and leaned over to accept his mother’s kiss and congratulations. The warmth in her eyes expressed her genuine happiness for him more than words would ever convey.

Collin disengaged Julia from his wife, took Julia’s hands, and kissed her cheeks. “Will you stay in Portsmouth, Miss Witherington? Susan will be so happy to have another captain’s wife to keep company with.”

“No, Captain Yates. I’ll—” She turned an uncertain gaze upon William.

He shifted his weight and clasped his hands behind his back. “Julia will return to Jamaica to oversee her father’s sugar plantation.”

“Jamaica? The same destination as our convoy?” Collin let out a low whistle. “After all these years—”

“Ah, Miss Witherington, there you are.” Lord Fairfax bustled through the crowd of sailors. “My daughter was just telling me she had the privilege of hearing you play at the Windemeres’ card party earlier this week. Might you entertain us with a number?”

He took Julia’s hand and led her to the cabinet piano on the opposite side of the room, brooking no opposition.

Not knowing what her aunt or Sir Drake might try, William followed, uneasy with the idea of letting Julia out of his sight.

Collin ambled after them. “I know I told you twelve years ago that I understood why you did not propose to Miss Witherington. I’m happy your feelings about marriage have changed.” He shook his head. “But you should be court-martialed for making her wait all this time.”

William shot his friend a withering look and took up sentry beside the instrument as Julia took her place at it. Collin stood beside him.

“My feelings on marriage have not changed,” William whispered. However, having the questions of when and to whom settled did make him view it as a little less reprehensible.

“Then why?” Collin asked, standing below a wall sconce. He jumped when candle wax dripped onto his head.

“Because she asked.” Oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

“She asked?” Collin stifled his laughter. “Mason will—”

“Mason will say nothing because you will say nothing.” William resisted the urge to rake his fingers through his hair.

“Mrs. Yates, will you play with me?” Julia handed a piece of music to Susan and nodded toward the harp standing nearby.

Susan blushed becomingly, accepted the music, and sat down at the instrument. What followed was the most divine music William had ever heard. Susan strummed the harp like an angel, accompanied by Julia on the pianoforte. That she could play the instrument was no doubt owing to her mother’s concern with Julia’s being a fashionable lady of society, even in the wilds of Jamaica.

He closed his eyes. The harmonious sound comforted him as much as a ship’s deck rolling under his feet. The moment the song ended, everyone in the room applauded and begged for more.

Lord Fairfax set a brown case in front of Julia. She opened it and, eyes sparkling, withdrew a violin. Her cheeks pink with anticipation, she tuned it and crossed to the harp to pick out the next piece. Susan laid the sheet music on her stand, and Julia drew the bow across the strings. The object had been wrought by the hands of man, but the sound issuing forth came only from the grace of God.

William clasped his hands behind his back and relaxed. All eyes in the room rested upon the two women. A sense of pride swelled in his chest. His intended, his soon-to-be wife, commanded the room with her talent more easily than he commanded his crew. Her hair shone copper with threads of gold under the massive chandelier, ringlets bouncing and swaying at her temples and neck as she worked the bow over the strings. Her gown—ivory silk and dark blue velvet with gold thread—seemed to have been chosen for this room, for this company.

For him.

“Miss Ransome, might I interest you in taking a turn about the music room?” Percy Fairfax’s eyes glittered.

Smiling, she rested her hand atop his arm. “I do believe I would enjoy that, Mr. Fairfax.” She turned to invite Miss Fairfax to join them, but the lady’s attention had been captured by one of Percy’s friends.

The music that greeted Charlotte upon entry in the blue and gold wallpapered room was like nothing she had ever heard. Susan Yates sat at the harp, and beside her, Julia Witherington played the violin. William stood nearby, his expression wary and yet at the same time peaceful.

“Charlotte.” Her mother appeared at her side. “Come, your brother has something he needs to say to you.”

“Please excuse me, Mr. Fairfax.”

The baron’s son bowed. “Thank you for your company, Miss Ransome. Perhaps we might have another dance later.”