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“We can delay one more day for such an invitation,” Crestwood volunteered.
“Now see here,” Dashlane interrupted.
“What?” Craven asked, his voice dropping dangerously low.
Chase looked back at Juliet. The woman was mad and he’d like to throttle her, but instead he’d have to protect her from these men. Because somewhere between that broken bridge and right now, he’d made a decision. He’d marry Ophelia. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching her. Later he’d worry about what a disappointment he was likely to be as a husband.
* * *
“We’ll make it for the second half of the debauchery,” Crestwood said to his companions.
Ophelia sucked in a sharp breath. Debauchery? What did that mean? She looked at Chase whose jaw had tightened to the point of appearing as though it might shatter. But a whole new series of questions had started thrumming through her thoughts. Was he also planning debauchery at this party? Was that his intent with her as well?
She took a half step away from him but he pulled his arm tighter to his body.
“That’s enough, Crestwood.” But it wasn’t Chase who spoke but Craven. “There are ladies present.” Craven’s gaze settled on Juliet, who blushed furiously.
Crestwood looked back at them, his mouth tightening as he gave a quick bow. “Apologies, ladies.”
“Let’s find your father,” Chase said as he started leading her down the street. “Juliet, if you’d kindly take my other arm.”
Her sister dutifully stepped up next to Chase, though she gave a long look back at Craven. Ophelia understood that Chase didn’t want Juliet being escorted by one of those other men but she was beginning to wonder if he was any better.
She wasn’t saving this man from anything. Her instinct to run had been much more apt. They walked down toward the docks, and she turned to the left. Her father had a small office in one of the buildings located on the shore. He could watch all the ships coming in and out and captains could easily report to him.
The building was painted a fun shade of dark red with large black-trimmed, multi-paned windows. A bell hung above the door and its cheerful call had given her and her sisters hours of entertainment as children.
Seabridge Gate was technically a peninsula between two rivers. But the mainland of England jutted out just beyond Seabridge Gate’s shore on both sides, providing a uniquely protected harbor and her father a booming business providing them all with a wonderful life. She entered the shop to find her father’s clerk behind his desk. “Hello, Mr. Burton,” she said as the entire group filed into the office.
Mr. Burton looked up, surprise lighting his gaze. “Ophelia, Juliet. Good to see you. To what do I owe this…” He glanced at the four men. “Surprise?”
Ophelia gave Chase a hesitant glance before she looked back to her father’s old clerk. “His Grace was a guest of ours last evening.”
“Interesting,” Crestwood muttered behind her.
Ophelia continued as though he hadn’t spoken. Weary as she was of Chase, she knew she was relatively safe in his company and she’d stay close to him while with Crestwood. “These other lords are trapped in town because the bridge to the north was damaged in the storm. They were hoping to speak with Papa about passage and the use of the cottage on Mayfair Street.”
Mr. Burton nodded. “I’m sure you know your father is currently making the rounds. But I can give you the key to the cottage and Mr. Moorish will most certainly visit the gentlemen there on his way home.”
“Thank you, Mr. Burton,” Ophelia answered. “That is an excellent plan.”
Chase leaned down close to her ear. “I’ll see both you and Juliet home.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that wasn’t necessary but a quick glance back over her shoulder, and she swallowed the words, giving a terse nod instead. With the wolf Crestwood just behind her, it seemed prudent to accept his offer.
They made their way back out of the shop and down the coastal street and then took a right onto Mayfair. Though the cottage was empty currently, it was used by captains who were in Seabridge Gate on longer stopovers and so it was kept clean and well-stocked. “You’ll find everything you need in the cottage,” she said to the men. “There is food as well but you’ll likely enjoy dinner out at the tavern.”
The three men said little as she stopped in front of the house and unlocked the door. Stepping inside, she motioned for the other members of the party to follow. The cottage was cheerfully decorated in a nautical theme. Ophelia had done a great deal of the work herself.
“When you said unoccupied cottage…” Dashlane started. “I thought you meant unused and untouched. This is…”
“Far better than the last four inns we stayed in,” Craven finished. “By a magnitude of ten.”
“Thank you,” she answered. “I think.” She tapped her chin. “I’ve never actually stayed in an inn so I don’t know how good or bad they actually are. But we use this cottage regularly to give our captains a homier place to stay if they are in port for more than a night or two.”
Chase looked at her then. “You’ve never stayed in an inn?”
She shook her head. “My father’s work demands his constant attention and with my mother gone…”
