Chapter One #2
Meridith waved a hand towards the number of people filling the yard. ‘I’m sure there are others who wouldn’t mind playing croquet.’
Janine grasped a hold of her hand and tugged it. ‘Peter sent me to find you, and you will play croquet.’
Of course I will play croquet, Meridith thought, because I don’t have a choice.
Just like I didn’t have a choice in my birth order.
Never mind that I’d rather be in the backyard, where there would be a hint of surprise and adventure in playing hide-and-seek in the hedges with the children, instead of sitting on the side porch, smiling at everyone who walks past or hitting a wooden ball with a wooden mallet through hoops stuck in the grass with people I don’t know.
Nor care to know. Especially whoever it might be that Peter was intent upon introducing me to—someone sure to be utterly boring.
‘Don’t forget your parasol,’ Janine said, now walking down the porch steps, having successfully pulled Meridith out of the wicker chair.
‘It will be difficult to play croquet while holding a parasol over my head,’ Meridith said, leaving the parasol leaning against the chair.
‘Didn’t you learn anything at finishing school?’
‘Yes.’ Meridith chose not to elaborate. Literature, languages, and geographics had been her favourites, but she’d also learned socially acceptable rules of behavior for young ladies, including that fondness for finery should be considered distasteful, whereas simplicity and neatness should be looked upon positively.
Glancing at her sister’s dress, an elaborate gown that was a golden-yellow color, almost the same shade as Janine’s hair, Meridith couldn’t help but think that the very people who had insisted that she learn the rules certainly didn’t abide by them themselves.
It only left Meridith more of an outsider. If one didn’t fit in with their own family, where could they?
Hence their determination to marry her off. Which, ironically, was one of the few times where Meridith was allowed to make her own choice: she could choose not to marry any one of the men they continued to parade past her.
If that was to be her only choice in life, then she wouldn’t relinquish it.
There were a hundred different places that Drake Taylor would rather be than at a garden party at the Duke of Chesterfield’s London townhouse.
Or any other garden party. He’d far rather be on the deck of a ship, sailing towards the horizon and his next destination, or be at that destination, seeing new sights, eating different foods, and seeing unique creatures and interesting people.
Fortunately, he would soon be doing all of that again. As soon as he found a partner to join him in running the Coastal Shipping Line, the shipping company that had been a part of the Taylor family for generations.
He wouldn’t need a partner if his cousin, Archibald, also known as the Duke of Rayburn, had an ounce of common sense. Then again, that would be like saying fish would be more useful if they had feet, because even if Archibald had common sense, he wouldn’t know how to use it.
‘Damn him.’ Drake quietly repeated the curse that came to mind every time he thought of his cousin.
His uncle Donald had been fully vested in the company.
All of the old wooden ships had been replaced with iron ships years ago, and he and Uncle Donald had spoken about the steel ships that were now being built, complete with steam engines.
How they would invest in them. Grow their shipping line.
Uncle Donald had to be rolling over in his grave at the decisions Archibald was making.
Archibald’s suggestion that they sell Coastal Shipping Line wasn’t the only one of his cousin’s business ideas that Drake didn’t agree with, but he had no say in any of the others.
He had merely been a nephew to the man who had raised him like a son.
Archibald was Donald’s true son, and therefore was now the Duke of Rayburn, which in truth, was a position Drake wouldn’t want to be in, any more than he wanted to be at a garden party.
But Drake was the rightful owner of Coastal Shipping Line, and he would continue following his uncle’s dream of growing the company. He shared that dream, unlike Archibald, who would have already shut down Coastal Shipping Line if it had been up to him alone. Thank goodness it hadn’t been.
Archibald had insisted that Drake had already made enough money, and that the sale of the business would let him live on one of the islands he always talked about visiting.
Drake wasn’t interested in selling anything, or in living on an island, or listening to any other suggestions from Archibald.
Instead, he’d told his cousin that he was going to take a couple of months to decide what he wanted to do.
What he truly wanted was for things to continue just as they had done for years, but that wasn’t possible.
Without his uncle overseeing the accounting and dock work, things were different.
He would need someone here in England to oversee the cargo contracts and other day-to-day aspects, all the things he couldn’t do from the sea.
He had no desire to stop travelling, but without a partner, the right partner, it would be inevitable.
Rather than sailing ships to far and foreign lands, he’d be stuck in London scheduling shipments, dealing with customers, and a plethora of other needed tasks.
Another position he definitely didn’t want.
Hence the need for a partner. And when a man needed a partner, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.
He pushed off the edge of the outdoor table that he’d been leaning against. Peter Downs, the Duke of Chesterfield and the owner of another large shipping company, was walking across the manicured lawn towards him.
Chesterfield had taken over his father’s interests about six years or so ago, and had grown the Downs family’s company,
Chesterfield would be the ideal partner. He could easily incorporate more ships with those he already oversaw. Furthermore, Drake’s number one priority was maintaining Coastal’s excellent reputation, and the Downs’s shipping company was one of the few held in similarly high esteem.
Most of the dealings he’d had with the Downses had been with one of the younger brothers, Webster Downs. He’d claimed that the Duke was interested in what Drake had to offer and had set up today’s meeting. Drake just hadn’t realised that said meeting would be taking place at a garden party.
He would have preferred something more private, not only because they could have done some actual work, but because there wouldn’t be any need for pretence.
That was what happened at garden parties and other such social gatherings: everyone pretended to have a good time.
Fortunately, Drake had learned how to do that long ago.
‘Drake,’ the duke said, stopping before him. He had a young woman in tow.
‘Chesterfield,’ Drake replied with a nod, trying not to glance at the young woman, despite her attractiveness.
The other thing he’d learned long ago was how to keep his distance from socialites.
Especially those who wanted marriage, the sooner the better.
Usually, his reputation as a rake kept him safe from such advances.
It was a title he’d given himself, for precisely that reason, but one that people were all too quick to believe.
Sea captains were known to seek out the companionship of a woman immediately upon setting their feet on land, wherever that land might be, for only one purpose.
Drake had simply encouraged people to believe that he was the same.
That tactic alone had kept him from having to attend events such as this one for years and would do so again—as soon as he had a partner.
‘So pleased you could join us today,’ Chesterfield said. ‘Allow me to present my youngest sister, Lady Meridith. I don’t believe you’ve met her in the past.’
At one time or another Drake had met other members of the Downs family, including Chesterfield’s two sisters, but this third one didn’t look like either of them.
They were blonde, tall, and willowy, with sharp features, just like their oldest brother.
This girl was petite, with brown hair, a round face, and eyes as blue as the waters in the Caribbean.
She also had a smile plastered on her face that was as false as the one Drake had been wearing since arriving.
‘No, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,’ he replied. ‘Lady Meridith.’
‘Meridith, this is Captain Drake Taylor.’ Chesterfield completed the introduction.
‘Mr Taylor,’ she greeted, in a soft voice that held no enjoyment.
Someone as pretty as her should be smiling. Most young women enjoyed parties. Giving her a slight bow, Drake said, ‘Please, my lady, you have my permission to address me as Drake.’
She gave a slight nod.
‘Meridith spent several years in Bath, attending school,’ Chesterfield said, smiling at his sister. ‘We are happy to have her back in London.’
‘I can imagine so,’ Drake replied.
‘She’s agreed to be your partner for a round of croquet.’ Chesterfield gestured to where the game was set up along the edge of the garden, away from the tables where people were conversing or playing cards. ‘The duchess and I will play against you. It’ll give us an opportunity to talk.’
Drake enjoyed croquet as much as he did lawn parties, yet he replied, ‘Excellent.’
They crossed the lawn with Lady Meridith between them, which limited the opportunity for business conversation. Drake couldn’t say for sure, but he assumed that Meridith was as eager to play croquet as he was. She hadn’t cracked a smile, nor glanced his way or at her brother, either.
She was cute, though. Actually, he’d call her pretty, because she was definitely a lady of good breeding. It was clear from the way she carried herself, head up, and without so much as a curl out of place. He could smell the light scent of her perfume, too.
Rose water.