Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) (48 page)

Sarah shrugged. “You know what I mean. I have to return to London after they start their race, and finish out the season. And I’ll do so, wishing the entire time I was racing with them.”

“As ladies our rewards are in the home—in caring for our families, friends and neighbors. Our legacy is the children we raise to carry on after we’re gone. I never thought of it that way until after I had Charlotte and needed to be a role model for her.” Her sister turned her gaze to her, and seemed to study Sarah’s face. “I think next season we should concentrate more intently on finding you a match. A man is what you need now that the social season holds no more charm for you. A family will settle that adventurous spirit of yours.”

The dinner bell rang and all the guests proceeded into the dining room, taking their seats. Sarah discovered her dinner companion to her right was Lucky’s partner, Mr. Ross. At first, having the handsome, seafaring adventurer beside her caused her pulse to race. But it wasn’t long before she knew it wasn’t that he’d sailed around the globe, but the man himself who stirred her senses.

The faint scent of cedar and citrus wafted from his direction and she inhaled a shaky breath before looking his way. She smiled.

“So Mr. Ross, you must be excited. Lucky was when we spoke just before your arrival. And it must feel good to return to your home. Even if it is for only a day.”

“I wish I had time to visit Baltimore but, in all honesty, there is no reason for me to return there yet.”

“Oh. Then you plan to eventually?”

“If we win this race, I will likely return to have my father’s friend build our two new clippers. There is no finer shipyard on the eastern seaboard.”

“You could have your ships build here. I’m sure His Grace can make the necessary introductions in Aberdeen. It’s where his import company was based before he bought out his cousins and moved operations to London. I’m certain we have relatives that likely know a shipbuilder or two.”

“That was one of the places we intended to query about building custom clippers.”

Footmen began serving the soup and Sarah listened as the men continued their pre-dinner discourse on the opportunities for trade and import now that the East India Company had lost its monopoly as sole importers of tea to Britain. Talk of finance, trade, and the importance of diversification floated about the table. Much to her surprise, some of the women participated as well.

But not Sarah. Her breast quivered under her skin in the presence of Lucky’s partner. Or was it the excitement of the race? She was unsure. She pushed her fork around the plate as she listened to their conversation, trying to hide her anticipation. Sarah wasn’t quite sure if her titillation came from her plan to stow aboard Lucky’s clipper, or her close proximity to this man who had a strange effect on her senses. Because of this, she tried to make certain not to bump her arm into his, especially when she noted he was left-handed. But when she dropped her napkin, she bumped his arm, causing him to spill the spoonful of soup on his cravat and waistcoat. When she lifted her head, she turned her gaze to his and was mortified, but at the same time wanted to drown in his gold-flecked brown eyes. Or lick the warm, creamy onion soup from his chest.

Where had that thought come from?

“I’m so sorry. I....” Her face burned at the images racing through her head, and the entirety of the table staring their way. She immediately took her napkin and began to dab at his waistcoat, until the footman hurried over to take care of it for her with a clean damp linen. Mr. Ross waved the man away, blotting what little remained of the soup on his waistcoat.

“There wasn’t much soup left, as I was nearly done.” He showed her the bowl. “See? All is well, my lady,” he said through a smile. “No harm done.”

“Thank goodness,” she whispered, “I’m not normally so clumsy, and I sincerely apologize.”

Conversation resumed around them, when Mr. Ross asked her, “Where you going to come out to the dockyards in the morning and watch the ships jockey for position at the starting line?”

Sarah kept her eyes cast downward, unwilling to have him see her excitement as she spooned her soup. She took a deep breath to collect her emotion, and replied, “Yes, Mr. Ross. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

Her dinner partner was turning out to be very charming for an American. She had to admit her earlier perception of him as cocksure and bit self-absorbed was wrong. He was gracious to everyone with whom he spoke.

“Your brother said you are very much alike in that you are as adventuresome as he.”

Sarah sighed, again regretting her gender. “Lucky is right. One would think we were true brother and sister, rather than joined by the marriage of our siblings.”

“I’m fortunate to have your brother as a friend and partner. I’ve never met a more honest, intelligent and unprejudiced man before. I consider myself honored to call him friend.”

Sarah smiled as she held another spoonful of the hearty onion broth in mid-air. “He can also be annoying and stubborn, but that’s coming from a sisterly perspective.”

“I never had a sibling to annoy, or I’m sure I would have been the same.”

“Don’t say so! It would ruin my image of you,” she teased.

“Oh?” Mr. Ross laughed, the sound warm and pleasing to her ears. “What image is that?”

“One of a kind gentleman who is understanding, and not as rigid and straight-laced as my older brother and Lucky.”

The next course was served, and the topic changed to the two schooners,
Revenge
and
Avenger
, and the remodeling done to the sister ships. Lucky and Ian were obviously proud of the modifications made to their boats, and felt they stood a solid chance of winning after sizing up most of their competition earlier that afternoon.

“On first glance,” Lucky said, “the
Ann McKim
looks to be the best boat in the race, but looks can be deceiving. She’s long and sleek all right. But without knowing how she carries her ballast, or the type of keel she has, there’s really no knowing how well she’ll do. She’s a brand new design, built in Baltimore, at Ian’s father’s very shipyard and while the American owner will captain her, my opinion is he doesn’t have half the experience necessary for an undertaking such as this.”

An uneasy quiet came over the table, when everyone realized that in an endeavor such as this, not everyone survived. “Unfortunately,” Ren said, “there will be lives lost during this race. But I have every confidence in the two of you. In fact, were I twenty years younger, I might have entered myself. Not for the purse so much as the thrill of the adventure.”

Sarah pushed the vegetables around on the plate and kept her eyes downcast, for that was the very reason she planned to stow away aboard Lucky’s boat.

S
arah shoved the packed canvas bag she’d brought with her from London under her bed. She was going to be on that boat when it sailed in the morning. There was no way she was going to allow Lucky to have this adventure without her. She was tired of reading about everyone else’s voyages and missing out on the ones right before her!

She’d spent the last five years the embodiment of a well-mannered young lady because that was what was expected of her, the sister of a duke. And, for the past four seasons, she’d smiled and swallowed her envy as Lucky lived the adventures of which she could only dream. First he and his partner sailed to America to buy the two American-made schooners they required for their newly chartered import company. Then last spring she forced herself to feign interest in the upcoming social season while Lucky sailed to China to make their first tea run now that he and Ian were officially in business. She smiled and wished him well, all the while wishing she were with them.

Well, the balls, musicales, dinner parties, morning calls, and rides through Hyde Park would still be there when she returned. She was not going to sit in her room and cry as he sailed away. Not this time. This was the chance of a lifetime—and she wasn’t letting it pass her by.

By tomorrow night, she would feel the salty spray of the ocean on her face and the motion of the vessel under her feet. For some inexplicable reason she just knew her heart would soar as she heard the snapping of the sailcloth in the wind and the shouts of the men as they performed the tasks ordered by their captain. It would be just as Ren described when he told her of the adventures he had when she was a babe. Sarah smiled as she remembered forcing her brother to repeat each voyage every evening he was home.

When she was older, she read the journals and ship logs that lined the shelves of her brother’s office, finding these far more stimulating reading than the historical or scientific tomes or romantic novels in the library. These were log books with descriptions written in the hand of her relatives, who had seen and witnessed each act and event she’d read.

It was those tales of adventure, and the uncertainty of success that started this desire within her to travel and see the world. They were food to her adventurer’s mind and soul.

Yes, without a doubt, Lucky would be angry with her when he discovered she’d stowed away, but he’d soon get over his anger when he realized he couldn’t very well return her to dry land. Her older brother would be furious as well once he realized what she’d done. But by the time anyone noticed her missing, she’d already be somewhere in the Atlantic and there’d be nothing they could do about it. She’d write a note to Ren explaining what she’d done and leave it on the
secretaire.
They’d find it when they looked through her room for clues, though they should know she’d seize the opportunity to sail the Atlantic and see New York City when it presented itself. After all, she talked about her desire to see the Americas her entire life.

The devil take her, but she’d happily face Ren’s anger upon her return for an adventure such as this!

A soft knock on her door preceded her maid, who’d come to help her undress for bed. While Trudy braided her thick mass of unruly waves, Sarah contemplated the timing of her escape. She had to leave well before breakfast and do so without setting up an alarm. Darkness was her ally. With the mound of pillows on the bed, she would fashion a suitable form under the covers that hopefully upon first glance would appear human, thus intimating to her maid she still slept. Then once at the docks, she’d need someone to take her out to the boat. That was why she’d thrown her coin purse in the satchel. She didn’t doubt that she’d find someone to take her. In her experience, when you offered someone enough coin, they’d willingly do just about anything.

Like the summer she was ten years old, when she mapped the entire estate over a period of five weeks while the rest of the family enjoyed their season in London. She had been studying geography at the time and Ren had joked about her mapping the American continents one too many times. Sarah had wanted to prove her map drawing skill to her brother and set out alone to accomplish the task.

Of course she was found out before she’d gone one hundred yards from the stables. Theo the stable lad had discovered what she was up to as she led her pony, loaded with all her supplies, plus a rolled napkin with some pilfered crusty bread and fruit. At first, he refused to keep quiet about her expedition. Until she offered him her collection of Roman coins she’d dug up near the old church ruins.

On her brother’s birthday, she proudly presented him with a rolled, charted map of Haldenwood, current up to that date, with boundaries and elevation changes. When asked how she’d accomplished the task, she proudly regaled to the entire family of her solo adventures in mapping.

Sarah waited until her maid had gone, then opened the drawer to her desk and took out a sheet of vellum, quill and ink.

My dearest family,

First, please do not be upset. Rest assured, I am safe with Lucky. And please, for pity’s sake, do NOT interrupt the race because of my desire to not have another adventure pass me by!

I have decided that since it is highly doubtful that I shall ever marry, there are a few things I would like to do before I settle into my spinsterhood. One is seeing if the ocean really is as clear and blue as I’ve always heard; and another is to see America.

Also, please do not fault Lucky in this. He knew nothing of my plans.

Love, and etc.,

Your Sister,

Sarah

With the note written, she placed it inside the old ship’s journal she’d been reading. The only thing she waited for now was for the house to go quiet for the night.

S
lipping past the fire boy as he slept in the kitchen proved easier than she’d expected and once outside she made her way to the street, keeping to the shadows alongside the house as much as possible. She walked briskly and with intent toward the port a short distance away. She entered the area cordoned off for the morning ceremonies and began to look for someone to ferry her out to
Avenger
. Pulling the gray coarse-knit cap down lower over her brow, she took on a stooped posture and with the bag slung over her shoulder she looked very much like any other young sailor. She raised the collar of her coat, hiding her face and any trace of the waist-length braid tucked inside.