Chapter Six #2
A ball had formed in her throat and she coughed before she could speak. “Since you seem so keen to know, what would you suggest?”
The smug look on his face had her regretting the question as soon as it left her lips. She already knew the answer—to get right back on a boat and go back to Tortuga.
A voice interrupted them before he could tell her so. “Isaac, there you are.”
Josephine spun to find a tall man approaching. Dark wavy hair blew in every direction in the breeze. Green eyes locked on her and widened slightly before he passed her and pulled the lieutenant into a rough hug.
“You made good time.”
“Did you expect otherwise?” Fondness shone through Lieutenant Caldwell’s grin, and Josephine couldn’t help her own smile at the camaraderie. This must be the friend he had risked his life to save.
“I see you’ve brought a visitor.” The man’s sharp gaze settled back on Josephine.
“This is Miss Montclair, daughter of the governor of Tortuga. She’ll be staying with you.”
Was he insinuating…? Her cheeks burned. “I told you I could find my own lodging.”
“I would feel much better knowing you were safe with friends. They have plenty of room. Right, Christian?”
His friend’s eyes twinkled. “Of course. Welcome to Savannah, Miss Montclair.” He bowed. “Christian Thompson, at your service. My wife, Samantha, will be glad to have a guest.”
Josephine took a steadying breath. Samantha. His wife. All thoughts of illicit intentions faded and she glanced between the two men. Maybe this would work in her favor. Surely, staying with the lieutenant’s closest friend would give her much better odds of seeing him again.
“I…”
Mr. Thompson grinned. “I can’t wait to hear how you got Isaac to let you on board his ship.”
Josephine dropped her eyes to the deck, careful to avoid the lieutenant’s reaction to the statement. “Thank you for the offer.”
He clapped his hands together. “Alright, where’s your trunk?”
She kept her gaze low. “I don’t have one.”
“Well, whatever your belongings are packed in, I’ll carry to the wagon.”
“No need.” The lieutenant’s dry voice interrupted her response.
Josephine crossed her arms and glanced between the men. “I’ve but one small bag. I can carry it.”
Mr. Thompson gave her a puzzled look but nodded. “Very well, but make it quick. Our cook will need to know about the extra guest tonight before he gets started on dinner.”
She spun and hurried back to the cabin, heart racing. With trembling fingers, she pulled on her boots and laced them. She snatched up her satchel and plucked Lola from the chair, carefully setting the bird on her shoulder.
“You stay put. Don’t embarrass me by flying off somewhere.”
With one last look around the cabin, Josephine headed back outside.
When Mr. Thompson saw her, he let loose a good-natured laugh. “A parrot? Isaac, you failed to mention your guest is a pirate.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a pirate.”
He took her bag from her with a wide grin. “I have a feeling you and Samantha will get along real well.”
The lieutenant cleared his throat. “I’ve got many things to do before the day is over. Miss Montclair, you will be in excellent hands with Christian and Samantha.”
He turned without even saying a proper goodbye. Josephine blew out a breath as he descended the stairs. He definitely hadn’t forgiven her yet.
Mr. Thompson cocked his head. “Usually, he has better manners than that.” He strode to the railing and shouted at the lieutenant’s retreating back. “Don’t forget, five o’clock. Samantha will come fetch you herself if you’re late.”
Lieutenant Caldwell gave a haphazard wave of his hand and disappeared below deck. Mr. Thompson chuckled. “Wonder what’s got him all riled up?” He winked at Josephine and started down the stairs.
She followed him off the ship, trying to take in all the activity on the docks. As she craned her neck this way and that, a cart full of crates rumbled past, missing her by inches.
“Keep a sharp eye. It’s all business down here, with little regard to safety.” Mr. Thompson offered his arm and guided her up a steep set of stairs between two warehouses.
At the top, she came to a stop. The warehouses along the waterfront had hidden the view of the street and the city itself. Horse drawn wagons and carriages clattered past, and men and women hurried by, arms laden with packages and parasols. Block upon block of buildings seemed to never end.
Savannah was huge.
Josephine’s ears began to ring and she took a small step back, but Mr. Thompson set his hand over hers. “A far cry from the Caribbean, isn’t it?”
She could only nod.
He led her to a wagon and helped her up. Once settled beside her, he gave the reins a slap and they bumped along over the cobblestone street, a huge difference from the dusty dirt roads of Tortuga.
Each turn they took seemed to offer a new scene. Between mansions with manicured gardens, pretty squares with picnicking families, and tall church towers, Josephine’s mouth kept gaping.
She finally turned to Mr. Thompson. “Is Savannah truly a small city?”
He grinned. “For us Northerners, yes, Savannah pales in size. It’s not even a tenth the size of Philadelphia or New York. But in the south, it’s a respectable city.”
They left the city and traded buildings for cotton and tobacco fields with sprawling estates.
Eventually, Mr. Thompson turned down a long drive lined by massive oaks, their mossy branches creating a green tunnel.
When the house came into view, Josephine couldn’t help a tiny gasp.
The gray brick manor stretched to both sides of a whitewashed fountain, with wide, stately windows reflecting the sunlight.
A broad verandah, supported by large columns, wrapped around the front.
They came to a stop and she stared at the wide double doors at the top of the steps.
“This is your home?”
Mr. Thompson nodded.
“It’s…” She trailed off, unable to find words.
“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” He swung to the ground. “Trust me, I’d much prefer to call a ship home.”
Her eyes tried to take it all in. Never had she seen a home like this. Even her distant memories of France held no recollection of something so grand. He cleared his throat and she startled. He’d walked over to her side and stood with his hand outstretched, her satchel slung over his shoulder.
She set her hand in his and stepped down. “I think it’s lovely.”
“Christian, have you brought a guest?”
One of the most beautiful women Josephine had ever seen descended the steps. Red hair flowed behind her like flames, and bright blue eyes sparkled in the sun. She wore a beautiful periwinkle muslin dress, its high waistline and fitted bodice accentuating her curves.
Mr. Thompson’s eyes filled with affection and his face softened as she approached. “Samantha, my dear, I’d like you to meet Miss Montclair, daughter of the governor of Tortuga. She’s going to be staying with us for a short visit.”
“Oh, how lovely. We’re happy to have you.” His wife’s smile flashed wide and welcoming.
Josephine’s throat had gone dry. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson.”
“Oh goodness. Please, call me Samantha. Mrs. sounds so old. Who’s this?” She reached a slender hand toward Josephine’s shoulder and Lola shuffled over, climbing onto a fair-skinned wrist.
“Lola.” Josephine couldn’t help but smile. “She doesn’t usually like strangers.”
Samantha stroked shiny green feathers and glanced up at her husband. “Why didn’t I ever think of getting a parrot?”
He harrumphed. “Don’t get any ideas.”
With a grin, she took hold of Josephine’s arm. “Let’s go inside and get you ready for dinner.”
Josephine looked down. “I am ready.”
Samantha laughed. “You just spent days on a ship. At the very least, you should take a bath and change into some fresh clothes.”
“I didn’t bring much else.” The words came out quiet, laced with shame, and Josphine wished more than ever she’d found a way to fit her day dress in her bag.
“Never mind. You can wear something of mine. We’re practically the same size.”
Mr. Thompson chuckled. “I hope you like the color blue.”
Samantha gave him a playful swat on his shoulder and took the satchel from him. “You will find, Miss Montclair, that Americans spend almost as much time socializing as their European counterparts. You best brace yourself for an onslaught of dinners, parties, and house calls. Starting tonight.”