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Authors: Julianne Maclean

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Chapter 20

S
quinting through the driving wind and rain, Martin approached the foundering
Endeavor
and acted quickly. He tied a rope around his waist and tethered himself to a jack line, then continued on a close-hauled course, pushing
Orpheus
to her limits.

“Evelyn!” he called out, circling around the wreckage. He hurried along the weather rails with the life ring in his hands and desperately searched the stormy waters. Where was she? She couldn’t have gone under. She had to be holding on to something.

God help him,
it was too familiar, all of this. It was making him sick. He couldn’t bear it…

“Martin!”

He heard her frantic cry over the roar of the waves and spotted her, then flung the ring with all his might. It landed a few feet from her, and she swam to reach it.

Bracing both feet against the rails, he pulled the rope, hand over hand, using every muscle he possessed to drag her through the swells until he could reach down and grab hold of her. He didn’t think. He didn’t feel. All he did was pull her forcefully onto the deck. She crouched on hands and knees, sputtering and coughing up water.

Martin shouted over the storm. “You have to go below!”

“What about the others?”

“I’ll find them!”

With the rain and waves driving across the deck, Evelyn crawled to the companionway and slid down. Martin shut the hatch behind her, then went to the wheel to turn the boat around and circle again.

He spotted the Radleys treading water together. Working hard not to lose sight of them, he called out, “Don’t try to swim! I’ll come to you!” But he wasn’t sure they could hear him over the noise of the sea.

When he was close enough, he threw the life ring out again, then dropped the jib halyard and eased the main to stop the boat. He pulled them
aboard, one at a time, until his body was shaking with exhaustion.

Lord Radley crawled to his wife and hugged her desperately. “Are you all right? My darling, oh my darling. If I ever lost you!”

By this time, the
Endeavor
was completely gone, swallowed up by the sea, and all that remained as evidence of her existence was some scattered debris—a captain’s hat, some cans and bottles.

“Have you seen the others?” Martin shouted, kneeling on one knee beside Lord Radley, wiping the stinging water from his eyes.

“We saw Hatfield!” the baron replied. “I don’t know about Breckinridge.”

Martin simply nodded. “Go below.”

“I can help,” Radley said.

Martin glanced quickly at the man’ wife, who was barely able to get to her feet. “Take her below, then come back up.”

Radley nodded and obeyed, while Martin looked over the side, searching the water for the others.
“Hatfield! Breckinridge!”

He walked up and down along the weather rails, then heard a voice. He went to the wheel and steered the boat around again, then spotted Hatfield and tossed the life ring out. Radley appeared beside him at that moment, still soaking wet, and Martin was never so relieved to have assistance. “Help me pull him in!”

They worked together tugging the rope, but when they brought Hatfield up alongside, he slipped through the ring and disappeared.

“He went under!” Radley shouted, dropping to his hands and knees at the rail.

In the flash of a second, Martin untied the rope around his waist and handed it to Radley. “Tie this around yourself and steer the boat in a circle, and don’t let us out of your sight!”

He turned and dove over the side.

 

In the cabin below, Evelyn finally managed to stop shivering. She took off her wet skirts and made sure Lady Radley was calm, then climbed back up the companionway wearing her bodice and drawers. She left the cabin and slammed the hatch door shut behind her, and saw Lord Radley at the wheel.

“Where’s Martin?”

“He dove in to get Hatfield!”

Stark terror lit through her veins, and she dashed to the side to look for him.
“Where? Where are they?”

She couldn’t see them. She looked everywhere. The swells were enormous. Then she pointed.
“There! Over there!”

Martin was swimming, holding Hatfield’s head out of the water, and it looked as if he were trying to make it to the life ring.

“We’re coming!” she shouted.

Martin reached the ring and placed it over Hatfield’s head.

Evelyn began to pull on the rope, but it took all her might. “Help me!” she cried to Lord Radley, who quickly came to pull, too. Soon, Martin and Hatfield were at the side of the boat. Hatfield appeared to be unconscious.

“Pull him up!” Martin shouted. “Then throw me another line!”

Lord Radley leaned over the side and grabbed hold of Hatfield under the arms, while Evelyn threw another rope to Martin. He seized it in his hands and held on.

“Hurry!”
Evelyn screamed. It took both of them to pull Hatfield up on deck. If the boat hadn’t been heeled so far over to their advantage, they never would have succeeded.

Lord Radley reached for Martin, and they locked arms. The baron groaned as he pulled Martin up onto the deck. They collapsed on their backs, sucking in air.

“Are you all right?” Evelyn asked, while she held Mr. Hatfield’s head on her lap.

“Yes.” He rolled over onto his hands and knees. “What about him?”

“He’s alive,” she said. “But we have to get him warm.”

Just then, the mainsail began to flap wildly as the boat bobbed up and down like a toy on the waves.

Martin rose to his feet. “Take care of him!”

“What about Lord Breckinridge?” Lord Radley asked.

“Keep looking and calling his name!”

Radley did just that, while Martin leaned into the driving spray to release the mainsheet. He ran back to the wheel and turned it hard over, then pushed on the boom. The boat began to move backward, then he quickly trimmed the sails and steered them straight, bringing the
Orpheus
around again to continue searching for Breckinridge.

 

No one said much of anything on the rough journey back to Cowes. The women remained below with Mr. Hatfield, who had regained consciousness but was still too weak to do anything but lie still, while Martin and Lord Radley remained at the helm, sailing them back to safety.

Breckinridge was not with them.

Wrapped in a wool blanket, Evelyn rose from her seat at the table and went to look in on Mr. Hatfield, who was resting in the forward berth. She was relieved to see he was no longer shivering, but wished his color would return.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked, holding on to the bulkhead to keep her balance as the boat pitched and rolled over the rough seas.

He was lying on his side and did not turn to look at her. “No.”

She understood he was weak and did not wish
to talk, so she simply said, “If you change your mind, let me know.”

He made no reply. Evelyn returned to the table and sat down again.

“It’s a miracle we’re alive,” Lady Radley said.

Evelyn shivered and pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders. “Yes, there was a moment I thought we were all done for.”

The boat heaved over a monstrous wave, and they both grabbed hold of the table. Lady Radley’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry,” Evelyn assured her. “Lord Martin knows what he’s doing.”

“That’s very clear.” They both sat in prolonged silence, contemplating what they had just been through, then Lady Radley said, “We were lucky he came along when he did, but what was he doing there? When we passed them earlier, they were on their way back in, and he was alone when he reached us. He must have turned around and followed.”

Evelyn felt so strangely cold and numb inside, she couldn’t make sense of any of it. “Perhaps he knew we were heading into bad weather and had come to warn us.”

“But why wouldn’t he have brought his crew?”

Evelyn pondered that. “Maybe he wanted to test himself against the
Endeavor
for the race.”

“Do you really think so? Or do you think perhaps he was coming after you?”

Evelyn stared into Lady Radley’s eyes. She could not bring herself to think of it, not after everything that had just happened. They had all nearly perished on the sea. Breckinridge was gone, Mr. Hatfield was ill, and they still had to make their way back through this storm to Cowes. She could not think of her affair with Martin or her broken heart over the loss of him. Life could be so very cruel sometimes. She was too afraid to hope.

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” she said, and held on tight as the boat heaved to and fro over the wild, angry sea.

 

It was dusk and still raining when Martin sailed the
Orpheus
right up to the Squadron steps and secured her. Lord Radley began to assist everyone off the boat, and Spence came running down from the club house. “Thank God you’re back! I’ve been watching for you for hours.”

He tried to assist Evelyn, who was still wrapped in the blanket, but she held up a hand. “I’m fine, Lord Spencer, thank you. But Lady Radley is very weak, and Mr. Hatfield will need help, too. He was in the water the longest of any of us.”

Spence moved to take Lady Radley’s arm. “Thank you so much,” she said. “You’re a very helpful young man.”

“It’s no trouble, madam.” He glanced over his shoulder at Martin. “The
Endeavor
?”

“Gone,” he flatly replied.

Spence stared as the rain struck his face. “And Breckinridge?”

Martin shook his head.

Spence digested the news in grave silence, then they all headed up to the club, except for Evelyn. She remained on the dock, waiting for Martin.

“Can you untie that line and toss it aboard?” he asked without looking at her. He was moving around the boat, busying himself, coiling ropes and testing knots.

“Why?” she asked. “Where are you going?”

“I have to take the
Orpheus
back to her mooring.”

She recognized the detachment in his voice, devoid of warmth or feeling, and any hopes she had begun to entertain that he might have changed his mind about ending their affair were dashed instantly by his obvious need to be away from her. “Is that really necessary right now?”

He stopped what he was doing. The rain was coming down hard and fast at an angle, but he hardly seemed to notice it drizzling down his face. “Could you just throw the line please?”

Evelyn’s heart squeezed with anguish. He did not want to deal with her. He was withdrawing in every sense of the word from the intimacy they had shared. He wanted only to be alone. But why? Because of what had happened? Was he merely exhausted, or was it something more? Was he an
gry with her for going sailing with Breckinridge in the first place?

Reminding herself that they had just been through a terrible ordeal, she did not let herself question too much or argue. Instead, she bent to pick up the line and tossed it onto the deck, and said simply, “You know where to find me if you want to talk.”

He barely looked at her as he nodded. The boat eased away.

She continued to stand on the dock in the pelting rain, clutching the blanket around her shoulders—her heart aching with confusion and despair as she watched him sail away.

Chapter 21

T
hree hours later, Martin woke in the dark, forward berth of the cabin and sat up. Something had knocked against the side of his boat. He heard footsteps tapping along the deck, and the light from a lantern swung past one of the skylights. He didn’t move, however. All he could do was lie there and wait, because he felt like he’d been hit by a train.

The cabin hatch swung open, and Martin squinted at the sudden light in his eyes. Two shiny boots stepped into view in the companionway and descended. Martin flopped back down onto the mattress.

“You’re not dead, are you?” Spence asked, crossing the cabin, holding the lantern up to shine in on Martin’s face.

He lifted a hand to shade his eyes. “Regrettably no.”

Leaning a shoulder against the bulkhead, Spence studied him for a moment. “I brought you a sandwich.”

“Did you bring whiskey?”

“Yes,” he replied, “but by the look of things, I probably shouldn’t have. I have half a mind to toss it over the side.”

Martin sat up again to lean on one elbow. “Why? Are you afraid I might drown myself in it?”

Spence took a seat at the table. “I know you’re at least going to try.”

The boat rocked gently on the water, which had calmed substantially in the past hour. Spence set the lamp on the table and turned the key to lift the wick and brighten the cabin. He looked around at Martin’s jacket strewn on the bench, his boots on their sides in the middle of the floor.

“I’ll take that sandwich now,” Martin said. “If you don’t mind tossing it into my dark pit of despair.” He shut his eyes and listened to Spence digging into a bag, then a sandwich wrapped in cheesecloth hit him in the face and dropped. Without flinching, he felt around the berth, found it, and took a bite.

Spence stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “They’ve canceled the race, obviously.”

“I assumed they would. How are the Radleys and Hatfield?”

“They’re all fine. But aren’t you going to ask about the widow?” Martin merely shrugged, causing Spence to lean back with frustration and throw his hands up in the air. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Bugger off, Spence. I didn’t ask because I already know she’s all right.”

“And how do you know that?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I just do, all right?”

Spence sat forward again. “So what happened? You got there, and the boat was going down, and you saved the day. But did you tell her why you were there in the first place?”

“Of course not,” Martin replied. “Not after everything that happened.”

“But did you talk to her at all?” Spence persisted. “Did you at least tell her you were glad she was alive?”

Martin took another bite of the sandwich. He really didn’t want to do this now.

Spence’s tone took on a hint of resignation. “I didn’t think so.”

“It wasn’t the right time,” Martin explained.

“And I have a feeling it is never going to be the
right time after what happened today. You’re going to bow out, aren’t you? You’re just going to pack up and go home.”

Martin suddenly wasn’t in the mood to eat. He set the sandwich down and waved a hand through the air at his friend. “
Jesus,
Spence! I’ve just been through hell. Someone died, and for a few unspeakable moments, I thought they had all been lost, Evelyn included, and you know my history in that regard. Can’t you understand that and ease off a bit for once?”

Spence lowered his head and shook it. For a long time he just sat there, then he leaned an elbow on the table and cupped his forehead in a hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I apologize.”

They sat in silence until Spence dug into the bag again. Martin had been lying with his eyes closed, but when he heard the sound of a cork popping and liquid gushing into a glass, he sat up.

Spence stood and handed him some whiskey, then poured a glass for himself.

“I thought you said you were going to toss it over the side,” Martin said.

“I changed my mind.” Spence raised his glass. “What else is there to do after a boat goes down but open a bottle?”

Martin raised his glass, too, and sighed. “It’s been a wretched day, Spence. Thank you for the whiskey and thank you for understanding. Bottoms up.”

 

The next morning, the starting cannons fired, but not for the race. They went off in memory of Lord Breckinridge and to acknowledge the tragic end of the ill-fated
Endeavor
.

There was a gathering at the Royal Yacht Squadron, and for this day alone the ladies were permitted inside. Evelyn arrived with Lady Radley and accepted a glass of sherry, then made her way around the crowded room.

She thanked those who offered sympathies and condolences, and she and the Radleys repeated the details of the accident more than once—about how the squall had come upon them very suddenly and snapped the mast.

There were also a few questions about how the boat had been handled, and Evelyn explained that she did not know, for she had been belowdecks when the mast broke, and everything had happened very quickly after that.

“Of course, of course,” was always the sympathetic reply. All the while, she waited for Martin, wishing he would come. She was worried about him, for he had not returned to his room since the accident. He’d spent the night on board the
Orpheus.

A short time later, she approached Mr. Hatfield, who was feeling better, though he was still pale and weak.

“It never should have happened,” he said.

“You’re very right,” she replied. “It was a terrible tragedy, and I doubt any of us will ever get over it completely.”

“Lord Breckinridge should not have been lost.”

Recognizing the regret in Mr. Hatfield’s voice, she touched his arm and worded her response with great care. “We did everything we could to save him.”

His eyes narrowed critically. “Do you really think so? I confess I’m not so sure.”

Evelyn blinked and stared wordlessly at him. “Of course we did.”

He scoffed.

Her brows drew together with anger and dismay. “I would like to know what you are insinuating, sir.”

“I think you are already quite aware.”

She faced him squarely. Her voice hardened. “I do
not
know. You are going to have to say it, and I warn you, sir, be very careful what accusations you make.”

Eyeing her somewhat warily, he leaned closer. “Don’t you think it’s a strange coincidence that out of all of us, Martin left Breckinridge for last? The very day before the race? The same day the earl proposed marriage to you?”

She could barely contemplate what she was hearing. Mr. Hatfield was suggesting that Martin had let Breckinridge drown on purpose? “He did
everything he possibly could, and I am shocked you could even suggest such a thing.”

He shrugged a shoulder.

She became filled with sickening revulsion for this man. “Might I remind you that he risked his life to save yours?”

“Only because he didn’t want to dive in after the earl. And aren’t you curious what happened to the mast? Don’t you find it suspicious that it could snap like that? Perhaps it was tampered with.”

What ever remained of Evelyn’s previous compassion for Hatfield’s grief and weakened state vanished instantly and turned to blistering rage. “That is the most ludicrous thing I have ever heard, and I swear, if you speak a word of this idiocy to others, I will tell everyone that when the mast broke, you were at the wheel, filling your belly with champagne. If anyone is to blame for the earl’s death, sir, it is
you
.”

He drew back in surprise, then his gaze went stone cold. “You’re just trying to protect Lord Martin because he is your lover.”

She felt bile rise in her throat. “And you are trying to ruin him because you are jealous of his success and are afraid the accusations of incompetence are going to be directed at
you
. I have nothing else to say to you, sir. Good day.”

Disturbed and shaken, she turned and shouldered her way through the crowd to find Sir
Lyndon Wadsworth, commodore of the club, who was on the other side of the room. “Sir Lyndon, may I speak with you?”

He recognized her obvious distress and excused himself from the others. They went to a quiet corner. “Mr. Hatfield has just made an appalling accusation. He has suggested that Lord Martin might have tampered with the mast on the
Endeavor,
and that he let Breckinridge drown intentionally, and I am here to assure you that that was absolutely not the case. Lord Radley was there, too. He will attest to the fact that the storm broke the mast, and Lord Martin did everything he could to save all of us. He made no mistakes.”

Sir Lyndon was leaning forward, listening to every word until she finished, then he straightened and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I am aware of the situation, Mrs. Wheaton. There have been a few others who have voiced their uncertainties about what happened. There will have to be an investigation.”

“An investigation!” Her mouth fell open in shock. “Have you lost your mind? The man deserves a medal!”

He glanced across the room at Hatfield. “I promise it will be a fair investigation. You know I admire Lord Martin and believe him to be a great sailor and a gentleman as well, but questions must be asked, because the two men were rivals.”

Evelyn’s gut wrenched with sickening disbelief.

Just then, Martin and Spence arrived, and a hush fell over the room. She knew at that moment that Hatfield had already planted seeds of doubt in the minds of some people.

The vile snake walked past them without a word and left the club, slamming the door behind him.

Sir Lyndon was quick to go and greet them. “Thank you for coming, gentlemen. I apologize for that.”

He took them aside, and Evelyn watched as he explained the situation and quietly described what was afoot. The three of them discussed it at length.

She watched Martin turn and shake hands with some of the other gentlemen, and was relieved to see that they did not all shun him. Some seemed to believe the truth—perhaps those who knew what kind of man Hatfield was.

But oh, her heart ached for Martin. He looked so very weary.

For the next half hour, he was thanked by many club members, but not everyone. Some people turned their backs on him or walked out the door in a huff. Eventually, he met her gaze across the room and held it for a moment. He nodded at her, then returned to his conversation.

It was as if they had never known intimacy
together, she thought, feeling a pain beneath her breastbone at the loss of it. But she could not concern herself with such selfish thoughts, not after everything that had occurred.

Soon, he made his way around the room to where she was standing with a group of women. “Mrs. Wheaton,” he politely said, taking her hand and clasping it in both of his. “You’re feeling better today, I hope.”

“I am,” she replied, “thanks to you.”

It was all very proper and somber, and the others soon engaged him with their own gratitude and appreciation. She was pleased these women seemed to believe the truth.

“I did what any man would have done in the same circumstances,” he said with enormous modesty. “I was lucky to have come upon them when I did.”

“Indeed,” one of the ladies said. “And rest assured, Lord Martin, none of us are listening to a word from that detestable Mr. Hatfield. He has no right to spread such rubbish around, and Sir Lyndon will make sure everyone knows it, I’m sure.”

Evelyn had to fight hard against tears as she watched Martin bow his head with dutiful gratitude, when she sensed he didn’t even care what anyone thought. It was as if he had given up the fight, which was not at all like him.

Her temper flared anew. He did not deserve
this. He was a hero. She and the others would be lying at the bottom of the sea right now if he had not come to their rescue.

Bowing slightly, he excused himself from their group and turned away. Evelyn knew at that moment that she loved him with every inch of her soul and always would. He meant everything to her, and she owed him for her life in more ways than one.

She would not let him go down for this.

BOOK: Surrender To A Scoundrel
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