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Jessie had not confided the details of her experience backstage in the Keenen’s dressing room with the dowager. She had merely said the actress had not been feeling well, and they had not visited with her for long. Her great-aunt had questioned her about her blue-devils, and she had said only she was tired of routing about London and that society galled on her. Now, she realized she would have to tell the dowager something more.
“Ah, well, Pauly was supposed to visit with a mutual friend. He writes to tell me he will be here tomorrow. I suppose he didn’t wish to spring himself upon us at the last minute. His business in town has been settled, and he means to stay with us for as long as we will have him.” She turned away from the dowager so she wouldn’t have to face her aunt with more lies. “That, er, that is why he didn’t accompany us down here. I dare say we shall all leave for Brighton together. You will like that, Auntie.”
“Yes, indeed, I adore Pauly. I must say I have noticed you and Pauly, that is, you two might, just might, make a match of it yet. You get on so well.”
Jessie was about to scoff, but instinct held her silent. Instead, she dropped a perfunctory kiss upon her aunt’s cheek and bade her goodnight.
Once alone in her room, thankful she had sent her maid off to bed hours ago, Jessie lit an additional branch of candles at her nightstand and produced the letter again to read.
Jess!
What a muddle we have made. Rodrigo is on his yacht in Southampton Harbor, not far from you. Don’t let him leave. I will explain when I arrive tomorrow evening. I am leaving now and will be on the road a good part of the night, and then rest my horse and leave early in the morning. I am sending this off now.
Pauly
Jessie looked up from the letter and asked out loud, “What does he mean?”
Dawning sent fear through her entire body. Rodrigo was on his yacht! Rodrigo was leaving! She would never see him again...never. How could she bear it? She had been determined to despise him...determined, and yet here she was already pining.
Southampton Harbor was no more than a twenty minutes’ ride on horseback. Pauly wanted her to keep him from leaving, she couldn’t imagine why Pauly had asked that of her, but he had. She didn’t even know the name of his yacht.
As she changed her clothes and made ready for bed, she took a moment to put a brush through her long hair. She attempted to calm herself. It would have a Spanish name...she could ask someone, as the yacht had been there for a very long time, and someone was bound to know. But once there, how could she stop him from leaving?
What if he had already embarked on his voyage? No, she wasn’t ready to believe that. Think, she told herself. Fiend seize it all. What was she doing? Rodrigo had proven himself a cad by treating the Keenen woman the way he had. If he left, perhaps it would be easier to forget him?
His dark eyes swam before her own and etched emotion into her heart. She would ride out first thing...very early. She would leave a note for the dowager, who was used to her great-niece riding early. Od’s life...how could she stop him, and should she?
* * * * *
Quietly, Jessie slipped out of the house. She had piled her long, red hair on top of her head and plopped a servant’s wool cap over it. She wore boy’s britches and an old buckskin riding jacket that fit too tightly to conceal her womanly figure.
The morning sun gleamed on her face as she hurried out of the house and made her way to the stables. There, she hushed the sleepy groom with a finger to her cherry lips and told him not to fret, that she had left a note for her aunt and would return by luncheon.
He helped her saddle her bay gelding, and some moments later, she was mounted and trotting down the long, winding drive to the main road. She patted her horse’s neck and put her into a collected canter as they made their way to the docks.
The road was empty, for it wanted some twenty minutes to seven, and even the local farmers were still in their barns feeding their livestock.
She reached the pike and took the fingerpost to the village docks, where she met some light traffic and one or two curious eyes. An inquiry directed at a passing seaman set her off farther into the quay’s mainstream. The question making her anxious was—what if Rodrigo had already set sail?
* * * * *
The heavens offered a wondrous morning. A sailor’s dream with wind enough to fill a sail and a sea softly promising to be kind.
Don Rodrigo snapped out orders as he worked with his men and put all thoughts of Jessica away. It was early still, just a little past seven, and there was much to do if they were to disembark on schedule.
A milkmaid passing at that moment stopped to tuck the hem of her skirt into her waistband when the form of a tall, athletic man in an open-necked shirt caught her eye and her breath.
She stood staring, her mouth open as she looked him over. His black silk waves of hair blew around his handsome face, and that face—coo, she breathed, chiseled and with a mouth made to make a girl melt for a kiss. A shiver went through her, for at that moment, he was climbing down from the rigging, and he looked her way. His dark eyes lit with amusement, and he jumped to his deck to make her a bow.
That made her giggle, and she turned quickly to call to a friend as she hurried off down the road, pleased enough he had noticed her.
Rodrigo smiled to himself. Maybe that was all he needed, a pretty woman to make him forget Jessie. He turned his attention to his ship. His nine-man crew was in high spirits, for they were all eager to set sail for home. England and its weather did not suit them.
Belowdecks, his cook worked, giving orders to the young steward at his disposal. Rodrigo’s first mate was dockside, seeing to the delivery of some last-minute purchases for their journey.
A frown etched itself across Rodrigo’s brow. A need to see Jessie...to touch her...to take her into his arms and never let her go flitted through his blood. How could he leave without her? He had to. He had no choice. Better to remember her the way she was than to marry and claw at one another as so many couples seemed to do.
Even so, he felt empty inside, as though there was a hole in his gut he couldn’t fill. He couldn’t shake the feeling he would never be whole ever again.
