“I have to if I’m to convince Nick that I’m worth havin’.”
“It will not be easy, but you stand to win a great deal—the respect of your crew, the admiration of the man you love, and perhaps some new friends to support you.”
Alexandra looked lost and little. “Ye’d do that? For me? After what I’ve put ye through?” Looking at Darcy, she asked, “After keelhaulin’ ye and cheatin’ ye out of a win ye deserved?”
Begrudgingly, he answered, “If Elizabeth extends her friendship to you, then I shall too.” He lowered his chin and narrowed his eyes, adding, “However, if you abuse her friendship in any way—if you put her in any more danger—I shall cut you off forever.”
“I’d expect nothing less from ye,” Alexandra said, looking as though she wished it were otherwise. Pounding her fist against the table, she groaned, “Blast the mizzenmast. Bothersome barnacles. How’m I supposed to learn how to be a lady Nick’ll fall in love with when I have to let ye go?”
Calling Jaffa, who was always nearby, she ordered, “Tell Nuñez to chart a course for Weymouth. We’re goin’ ashore.”
She sounded so miserable, so hopeless and vulnerable, Elizabeth knew that her instinct to befriend Alexandra was the kindest course of action. “Your decision to take us ashore proves you are further along in your progress than you suppose.”
They were going to shore. Their freedom was guaranteed.
Fitzwilliam shook his head at her, a lopsided grin spreading over his face and his eyes wide with wonder.
Mrs. Finchley admiredthe fine houses at Mayfair. Her own address, carefully selected so as not to draw attention to her wealth, was the price she paid to keep her activities hidden. Nobody questioned an old woman living in a rundown house. They pitied her. And she despised them behind a mask of benevolence.
The carriage stopped in front of the address on Colonel Fitzwilliam’s card, and she took in the bay windows, swept pavement, and manicured rose bushes on either side of the door, the bitterness rising in her bosom making her hands shake on her cane. If Lady Anne had called for her services, she would not have died in childbirth bringing another brat into the world. It served her right.
Clambering out of the carriage, makingcertain to lean against the footman and walk feebly, she walked to the door.
The butler saw her immediately into the parlor, where Lady Matlock sat like a queen with her princesses … and—Who was that? Amelia’s heart fluttered.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had been useful to her after all!
CHAPTER 24
Aheavy fog settled over them, so dense Darcy could not see beyond his wrist when he stretched his arm out in front of him. Navigating without the help of the stars was impossible and slowed their progress to shore considerably. However, Alex did not waver in her decision, and by the end of the second day en route to Weymouth Harbor, Darcy’s humor was completely restored. He even—miraculously—found himself feeling much more forgiving toward the captain.
Beckett and Nuñez assured Darcy they would gain the harbor the following morning. He could almost see the lantern lights along the wharves.
The men were in a merry mood. They had enough spices in the hold to pass for a merchant vessel, and along with the fresh food and water they would bringaboard, they would have their turn taking leave on land.
Darcy had helped roll up the last of the sails and clear the deck of loose lines, and most of the men, too excited for the morrow, gathered on the main deck with fifes, whistles, and even a fiddle.
The clouds had lifted enough to see their position and continue in their plotted course.
Darcy left the crew for the quarterdeck, where Alex stood at the helm. Elizabeth beside her, her long hair braided down her back, ruffled shirt billowing gently in the soft breeze. She smiled when he neared.
“Alex wishes to know how proper ladies and gents court when our interactions are limited. What do you say, Fitzwilliam? What do you recommend to encourage affection?”
He grinned, remembering one of their previous conversations. “Dancing,” he quoted, “even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”
She laughed as he had hoped she would.
“Beckett!” called Alex.
The wiry man appeared seconds later, quiet as a cat.
“I aim to join the men in their merriment,” she announced, leaving the helm in his capable hands. Grabbing Darcy and Elizabeth’s hands, she pulled them along. “Come with me. Ye can show me how proper folks dance.”
The deck was a stage, with men performing a jig of motley origins, blending Irish footwork with thesweeping arms of the Scottish highlanders. With Elizabeth’s twinkling eyes in his mind and the sound of her laughter in his ears, Darcy joined them, stomping and bounding and swooping to the encouraging cries of the crewmen.
A guitar strummed, and the deck cleared. Nuñez’s fingers moved quickly over the strings, and several men stamped their feet and clapped their hands to his varying rhythm, at one moment flowing, then next a dry staccato. He played as well as any performer Darcy had ever heard.
Alex stood in the center, waving for Elizabeth to join her. She started slowly, showing Elizabeth how to sway her hips and stamp her feet to the music.
