Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Graham
“Mr. Everett!”
I returned Morton’s waving hand. He was usually among those who fished late, so I hadn’t expected to see him here so early. I stole a sideways glance at Anna, whose eyes were still puffy and red.
Devil take that man Lennox. I had half a mind to call him out for exposing such a delicate situation and hurting everyone involved. I hated myself for my part in Mr. Lane’s secret, but most of all I hated how brave Anna had to be to face this mess, and so soon.
“Morton.” I tipped my hat as he approached, bringing with him a strong scent of fish and the sea. His dirty hands were stained, scarred, and weatherworn, my own paling in comparison, and his shirt had been torn in several places. “Heading out early for the catch?” I asked.
He grinned. “Soon, yes.” He took off his cap and scratched his greasy head, then wiped the sweat from his tanned, crinkled forehead. “I’ve a celebration for my eldest daughter this evening, and I’m in need of a dozen or so fresh fish before I set out with the big boats.”
The man knew fish, I had no doubt he’d find success despite the hour. “I hope good fortune finds you, then.”
“What brings you down to the markets? In want of fish? Or perhaps something pretty to win over your lady here.”
Anna smiled and took him in with grace, though I wondered—admittedly with a little humor—what a man like Morton did to her sensibilities.
“Mr. Everett would need a heap of good fortune in that case.” She grinned, clearly pleased with her own teasing.
I pursed my lips and raised both brows. Something so very like Anna to say, and yet, knowing her better, the barb did not sting at all. “Miss Lane, this is Nathaniel Morton. He’s a local fisherman.”
“Best fish in all Brighton.” He grinned widely.
“Lovely to meet you,” Anna said with a nod, and I felt a rush of pride, of near possessiveness, to have her at my side. A high-bred lady who was perfectly comfortable conversing with a common fisherman.
“She is Mr. Lane’s daughter, of London.”
Morton widened his stance, arms folded across his chest. “I see. Is this your first trip to Brighton?”
“It is. We’ve just come from the shore. We saw the Marine Pavilion and walked the Steine.”
“Well, then. You’ve been around, haven’t you? Taken her to the baths yet?” he asked me.
“She’s not keen,” I responded, and Anna pinched my arm.
Morton watched with a gleam in his eye. “Been on the water?”
“We have limited time to see all that Brighton offers, unfortunately. And Miss Lane prefers a tame experience.”
“I beg your pardon?” Anna placed her delicate hands on her hips. I shouldn’t have said it with a challenge in my voice, but there it was. Her flame, ignited. I grinned.
“Which part, exactly, of our trip so far has been tame?” she asked. The gravelly sound of sorrow in her voice was dissipating. She was distracted, and I longed to keep her so.
“Well, in that case, why not an excursion?” Morton asked. “The sea is what brought people here in the first place. She’s a fishing town at her heart, Brighton.”
“What sort of excursion?” Anna asked.
“A boat ride, out on the sea. Some get lucky and see a dolphin. Others pull in a fish or rest their worries for a time and bask in the sunset. Very popular among you tourists, the sunsets.”
Anna raised her brows at me expectantly.
“Youwouldn’t like it.” I shook my head. “The waters look steady from here, but out there”—I pointed farther out, knowingly—“a small boat will rock and rage, and you’ll feel like the whole world is spinning.”
Anna looked out at the sea, which, admittedly did not seem all that rowdy at present.
She turned back. “It cannot be worse than a carriage ride down the Brighton Road.”
“Brave girl,” Morton declared, winking at her.
And she thought I tried to sway her on matters of business.
“Doyou take tourists?” Anna asked him.
Morton situated his cap back atop his head. “Occasionally. I prefer the fish as company. I only offer rides to select visitors such as yourselves. I’d take you, but tonight I have fish to catch.”
Morton looked sideways at me, then down at his hands, flexing his fist as if examining the dirt under his nails. I took his look for what it was—could I make it worth his while? He knew me to be a frugal man. Taking us on a boat ride would mean both fish for his celebration and a sure purse, so I had little doubt he’d oblige us. But Anna had already endured enough hardship this evening.
“I do not think Miss Lane would fare well on the sea.”
Morton crossed his arms and turned to Anna for her reaction.
Anna did not miss a beat. “I should like to go and watch you fish.”
I lowered my voice. “You realize he’s talking about taking you out on a boat, in the middle of the sea.”
She narrowed her eyes. Yes, apparently, she did.
I continued, “As entertaining as Morton is, it’s a rough start and a new feeling for some. I can’t promise you’ll enjoy it. I’m not even certain your father would allow it.”
Oof. The look she gave me at the mention of her father could have killed an army.
“Do you have a weak stomach, Mr. Everett?” she asked. “Perhaps I should fetch your sisters instead.”
“I—” A patient breath escaped me. We stared at each other for a long, tenuous moment. She wouldn’t like it, but she needed a distraction, and if she wanted to try ...
“Are you in the hogboat tonight?” I asked Morton. A nice fishing boat, large enough, but flat and uncomfortable. It wouldn’t do for a seaside excursion.
“Just the jolly. But she’s got room enough for three. And she cuts smooth through the waters.” Then he muttered, “An hour or so for a shilling.” He sniffed, then looked about, having made his offer.
“You have yourself a deal,” Anna declared, reaching into her reticule. “You can come with us, Mr. Everett, or you can stay on the beach and watch.”
“Oh, he’ll come,” Morton said with another show of his teeth. “I happen to know Mr. Everett loves to fish. We’ve had an excursion or two of our own, haven’t we?”
I silenced him with a look. We had fished together before, but that was because I was of different upbringing than Anna. This would not end well. I stopped Anna’s searching, reaching in my jacket for my coin pouch to pay him. I’d hadn’t spent so much money in one week since we’d remodeled Highcliffe House. But this was business: encouraging, obliging, gifting, showering prospects with everything to suit the lifestyle of the ton. Or, as was my current goal, attempting to court a woman as fine as Anna Lane.
A worthy investment.
Morton led us closer to shore where his jolly boat awaited us. The craft was of a smaller size, with forward, middle, and back thwarts. He’d already stocked the boat with fishing supplies for his catch but asked us to wait a moment while he ran into a nearby bathing house. A few moments later, he returned with blankets in hand and a brown paper sack. He’d done this before, I had no doubt, and he knew as well as I how to exceed someone’s expectations. How to leave them wanting more.
Morton laid the blanket out on the front thwart of the jolly boat, where Anna would sit, then he called us over.
Anna’s face was unreadable, her shoulders stiff, determined.
“Are you nervous?” I asked her.
“No.” Her voice sounded unusually tight, small.
Had I ever seen her nervous before? Uncomfortable, sure. But Anna always had something to say. She seemed to have recovered some after Lennox, but I wasn’t entirely sure she was thinking with a sound mind.
Morton stood with one leg in the water and the other inside the boat as he offered her his hand and hoisted her up, then over the side. The boat rocked, and Anna sucked in a breath, swaying on her feet, eyes as wide as saucers. Morton’s strong hold kept her steady.
“Take a seat there at the front, Miss Lane,” he said, holding fast to her hand while she settled.
Once seated, Anna’s knuckles were white, holding fast to one side of the boat and the bench as though she’d instantly regretted her decision. The muscles in her neck were taut, jaw set, eyes still round with worry she refused to voice.
“Should I take the back thwart, or—” I started.
“No.” She did not budge an inch, frozen as she was. “I’d like you here, please.”
The bench was so small, I’d barely fit in the narrow space beside her, but those simple words, and the weakness in her otherwise steady voice and demeanor, did something to me. A compulsion to simply be near her. Unexplainable. Unavoidable. Urgent. The very fact that she’d forgiven me, trusted me still, set my feet in motion. I braced myself on the other side of the boat, threw a leg over and hopped in, but the subsequent rocking motion seemed to turn Anna’s worry into terror.
I sat down beside her, my leg brushing hers, and I placed my arm along the trim of the boat. Her shoulders relaxed a touch, and I realized how tight my own chest had become. With every breath she took, my muscles relaxed. My senses softened. Like we were connected.
“Are you sure about this?” I whispered. Then, more teasingly, “We could abandon ship.”
Anna would not meet my gaze. Staying was so obviously not what she wanted to do. “You’ve already paid Morton.”
That she even considered my money meant more to me than a wasted excursion. “Don’t worry about that. We paid for an experience, and however long that lasts, it is well worth it to me.”
She looked up then, a worried crease between her brows, as though she measured my sincerity.
I gave her an encouraging smile. Whatever she wanted, I’d give her. Whatever made her happy.
She considered for a moment while Morton heaved a wooden bucket over the back end of the jolly, whistling some seaman’s tune. When her eyes met mine again, they’d eased, as did her hold on the side. “I’d like to see this side of Brighton.”
Morton hopped out of the boat with the nimbleness of a man half his age, and said, “Best be on our way, then. Fish to be caught before the crowds rush in.”
With that, he shoved hard on the boat’s stern. Rocks groaned beneath our weight until the water’s edge pulled us into the sea. Just as the boat started to sway, Morton splashed in the water, heaving himself back in and over the center thwart. His weight tipped the boat to the right, and Anna went rigid. Her arms flailed out, and I caught her with a laugh, pulling her closer on instinct.
“I have you,” I said through my humor. “I won’t let you fall in.”
“But we might both fall in, and I shall drown.”
Morton cast me a humored glance. He practically lived on these waters. “If we both fall in,” I said, loosening my hold on her as the boat evened out, “Morton here can swim us both on his back.”
“I’ve wrestled sharks in these waters, miss,” he called over his shoulder, and I rolled my eyes. “Three at a time, and I only lost the tip of my right little finger.” He held it up, wiggling it for effect. Likely a tale he told his children. He uncovered two long, heavy oars at the center, secured them on the boat, then, his back to us, dipped them into the water.
The jolly boat rocked as Morton paddled one side, then another, humming a new, hoarse tune that carried on the wind.
“There are sharks in these waters?” Anna breathed.
“None that you will see.” I gripped the boat along her back, leaning halfway into the corner of my side of the bench, my knees angled slightly toward her. “Though perhaps we’ll watch Morton reel in something substantial.”
“That would be exciting,” Anna admitted, looking up at me through her lashes.
A gush of wind blew past us, followed by unsteady waters. The boat rocked hard, and Anna gasped. She leaned into her corner, gripping the side, the bench, anything, like a cat bracing over a bucket of water.
She paled, muttering something about “Still alive” and perhaps a few choice words she shouldn’t’ve. The waters would not relent. In truth, she needed a distraction until Morton found a good place to fish.
Her face scrunched, gaze aimed at her feet. I tried to think of a witty remark, but nothing came. I should’ve insisted we stayed on land. Should’ve bought her one of those ridiculous shell trinkets from a tent shop and gone home. The boat hit an even rougher current, rolling from one side to the other, and Anna struggled to stay upright. I shifted in my corner, an attempt to keep an appropriate distance, but accidently knocked her shoe with mine.
I started to draw back, but she followed, moving a mere measure on the bench. The toe of her shoe met my heel as though that little contact could ease her suffering.
I stopped breathing, focused entirely as I was on Anna. What should a man in my position do? I was her guardian, but I was also a man who very much wanted more than a host should. My mind reached for something to say. Conversation was the safest option.
A tremor jolted through her.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
“N-no, not exactly,” she said on a breath. “This ride is rougher than I imagined.”
Another high wave knocked her sideways, nearer to me, but this time, neither of us tried to avoid the shifting of the boat. I let it pull me right, then felt her thigh align with mine.
My breath hitched, but I tried not to move. I sat still, my hand gripping the frame of the boat, afraid to move. Afraid to scare her off. My heart pounded like a drum against my chest, sounding wildly in my ears, as the boat rocked once more. Anna must’ve lost all strength, for her side brushed mine, and she stayed.
“Anna?”
“Forgive me.” She forced a self-conscious laugh. “You must think me some fragile thing.”
I shouldn’t allow her nearness. Not when it made my mind so hazy. But she needed me. And she felt so soft, so enticing. Like a warm cup of chocolate after a snowstorm, pooling low in my belly.
I let my fingers gently graze her arm. “I think you are delicate. There’s a difference.”
She pinched my side and made me jerk upright. “I think you are delicate.”
“A weak retort,” I teased, settling back. “You must be very ill.”
“I’m afraid I am very much that.” The waters roiled, and she braced herself, leaning her weight into my side. Jasmine filled my senses.
“It’s all right,” I whispered into her hair as I rubbed her arm. “We are almost far enough out. Things will settle.”
“My stomach feels odd.”
I hated the pain in her voice so much that I wanted to slice it into quarters and wring it out with my bare hands. “Lay your head on my shoulder.”
She pulled back, pale as porcelain, almost more afraid than before. “That would be so improper, Graham, and I’m already—”
“Anna. I do not mind,” I assured her. “We’ve known each other for years.”
“But there are others out, and Morton—”
“—knows I am your host at present. You’ll feel better. Lay your head on me and let yourself acclimate to the sea.”
With a little huff, she swallowed hard, then settled back at my side. The waters were unforgiving, but at last she relented, nestling into my neck with a sigh.
The sound unwound something in me. Holding Anna compelled me to be a stronger, more capable man. A man she’d turn to in times of uncertainty. A man she could trust with her safety, her thoughts, her dreams. I wanted to be all that and more, but only for her.
I held her close.
No one would ever hurt her again. Not even her father.
“Ho! Did you see that jumper, Everett?” Morton called from the center. He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of us together, then smirked so wide his missing teeth showed. “Don’t s’pose you did, eh? Almost there, Miss Lane, love. The winds are heavy this evening.”
She sighed again into my neck, her warm breath tickling my skin, and holding her felt so natural, so right, I leaned in and brushed my lips to her hair.
Lud! I brushed my lips to her hair. I froze, my mind reeling.
But Anna laced her arm through mine, drawing me even closer. Lands, she smelled good. So, so good. Her warmth at my side was a siren calling to me. Reeling me in. Squeezing my heart to bursting.