Chapter Two
D eclan arrived at The Integrity within the hour. Given the quiet and relative dark of his carriage, his mood had steadily improved. Nothing cheered him so much as being left alone. That ended, of course, the moment he stepped out into the teeming noise of the dock. And it was made worse as he struggled to find the ship itself.
By the time he strode up the gangplank he wanted nothing more than to get this task over with as quickly as possible. Which made the absolute absence of anyone on board a frustrating annoyance.
‘Hello?’ he called as he looked about.
He heard nothing. Or rather he heard a million voices around him, the cry of the gulls, and the splash of things hitting or being hit by water. Sadly, he could not identify any as coming from within the confines of this boat. Bloody hell—how did anyone understand anything amid this cacophony?
‘On deck!’ came a bellowing voice from below.
Declan jolted as he turned to see the muscular, moustachioed man climbing up from below deck. He was dressed casually, but his weathered face and the easy way he moved suggested he was at home on this ship. The command in his tone implied he was the captain. Declan was about to speak when he realised the man was squinting up into the sails as he shook his head.
‘Half monkey, half bird,’ he muttered—apparently to himself, because he seemed startled when he turned and saw Declan standing there. ‘What ho?’
‘Hello,’ Declan said, though his gaze was going up, up, up into the sails, where he could just make out a figure springing lightly through the mass of ropes. Half monkey, half bird was right. As he watched, the sailor took an impossible leap, caught a rope, then swung around before another long jump. It was breathtaking. And possibly life-taking if the man missed.
But he never did.
‘Good God,’ Declan muttered, envy in his tone.
Once upon a time he’d wanted to be a captain on the high seas, answerable to no one, free to challenge the elements however he wanted, and able to wander the world on his own whim. It had been a boy’s fantasy, of course. No future duke could risk himself that way, and only a child thought life aboard ship was easy. And yet watching the sailor fly through the riggings, he felt his heart soar. Such freedom!
‘Crazy,’ the captain muttered as he followed the sailor’s movements. ‘Some are born to this life; some find it. That one found it and has the devil’s own determination to make it fit.’
Declan had no idea what that meant, but he had no desire to dispel his private fantasy. In his mind, that sailor had no cares except to run the riggings for fun.
He pulled off his hat as he addressed the captain. ‘Good morning, sir. I’m looking for my cousin Cedric, Lord Domac. I was told—’
‘Yes, yes, he’s due. Said he’d be here an hour ago, but I knew better than to expect him.’
Wise. Cedric had never managed time well. Or money. What he did manage well were people. Something about Cedric’s sunny smile, bright hair, and the mischievous glint in his eyes had the most stiff-necked duchess softening. That put him in direct contrast to Declan, who had always been sober, restrained, and aloof. Thanks to the Byrning legacy, that was the only way for him to be without striking terror in his mother’s heart.
‘If you’re his cousin, then I’m guessing you’re the young Duke. Pleased to meet you, Your Grace. I’m Captain Banakos. Lord Domac asked me to show you around.’
‘You were expecting me?’
The man grinned. ‘I was, Your Grace, though I didn’t know it would be today. Lord Domac said you’d be coming to inspect things. Said you’d be determined to understand everything about the gal’s dowry.’
And now Declan began to understand. His cousin wasn’t marrying an unsuitable girl. He was trying to get the lady’s dowry.
‘Please, show me everything,’ he said.
And see it, he did. Every inch of the stripped-down, well-managed vessel. Everything was in place, everything was clean, and the hold was impressively full of cargo that had yet to be transported to a nearby warehouse.
Captain Banakos was a delightful guide, with several good stories to relay, and Declan forgot his sore head, forgot his irritating mother, and thoroughly enjoyed himself.
Indeed, he’d taken off his boots and was partway up the mainmast barefoot when his cousin finally made an appearance.
‘Aren’t you too old for that?’
Declan was looking up into the rigging, but paused when he recognised his cousin’s voice. He noted as well the rough burr in it that indicated someone else likely had a sore head.
‘Come on down, old man,’ Cedric continued. ‘It’s too early to play monkey.’
Declan finally looked down. ‘It’s after noon, and you were expected several hours ago. Also, I’m only three years older than you.’
‘That’s old. Now, come down. I’d like to talk without craning my neck.’
Declan sighed. The air up here was clearer, and he’d discovered the unexpected thrill of challenging the sky by climbing. He hadn’t got far, of course. Not yet. But he abruptly decided that he would someday. Unfortunately, now wasn’t the moment. He needed to speak with Cedric, so he narrowed his eyes, planned his angle, and jumped.
He landed with a thud, the feel of the wood on his bare feet making him grin. He hadn’t jumped like that since he was a boy. God, how he missed those days, when he hadn’t been constantly aware of his violent legacy. When running and jumping had been fun and not an indication of generations of past misdeeds.
Meanwhile, Cedric was gazing up at the sailor still running about the rigging.
‘Welcome back to England,’ Declan said as he mentally closed the door on his boyhood dreams.
‘Thanks. Isn’t it your birthday today?’ Cedric returned.
‘Yesterday. And instead of birthday greetings the Duchess has ordered me to speak with you.’
‘Has she?’ Cedric drawled, his expression carefully blanked.
The poor man bore the moniker of ‘The Inconsistent One’, thanks to Declan’s mother, so there was little love lost between the two. But rather than discuss that, he gestured around at the massive boat with a too-enthusiastic grin. ‘Isn’t she magnificent? Let me show you around.’
‘I have been all over this boat already,’ Declan said. ‘And she’s definitely seaworthy.’
It was the best compliment he could give to the efficient vessel. In truth, he liked it for being exactly what it needed to be, without luxuries, beautiful woodwork, or anything that would usually attract Cedric’s attention.
‘I know she’s not much to look at, but she’s exactly what she needs to be.’
Declan couldn’t agree more, though he was surprised Cedric had echoed his thoughts. ‘She’s a fine ship,’ he said in all honesty.
‘And she’s all mine.’
Had he married the girl already? Doubtful. His mother rarely got details like that wrong. What was more likely was that Cedric had yet to learn that wanting things and having things were entirely different. How like the young man to speak as if something were a fact when that was far from the truth.
‘Truly?’ he said.
Nothing more, but Cedric withered under Declan’s stare.
‘Um...well, it will be after the wedding.’
‘Ah,’ he said as Cedric ran his hand up and down the mainmast. ‘About that...’ he began.
But before he could go further, a voice interrupted from above.
‘Beware below!’
Declan looked up, but Cedric was faster. He grabbed his cousin’s arm and pulled him to the side rail. Then they watched in shock as the jumping sailor launched off the middle sail, flipped mid-air, then landed solidly on the deck. It was an impressive feat, and would have been a dangerous one if the ship had been full of people. Even relatively empty, the deck had coiled ropes and buckets all about. One slight miscalculation and the sailor would have a broken leg or worse.
Crazy! And yet Declan was impressed—especially as the leaper straightened up with an impish grin.
‘I never get to do that when we’re sailing,’ said the boy.
At least Declan assumed it was a boy, given the grin, the diminutive stature, and the Asian slant to his features. Though Declan had met precious few Chinamen in his life—exactly two—he’d thought they all looked young, with features as refined as their porcelain. Smooth skin accentuated by dark slashes for brows and long, elegant fingers. This boy had the addition of a ready smile, a softly formed nose, and dark hair swept up into his sailor’s cap.
‘You’re showing off!’ Cedric said with a grin.
The boy laughed with a surprisingly musical treble, but Cedric hadn’t finished.
‘Did you have any problems getting here?’
‘Took a hansom cab—as you suggested. But you’re late.’
Cedric shrugged. ‘You seem to have occupied yourself easily enough.’
‘There’s always something to do. I was checking the ropes. Rats are everywhere in London, and they’ll eat the ropes if they’re hungry.’
‘There’s too much good food in London,’ Cedric scoffed. ‘The rats will go for the better food and leave our boat alone.’
The sailor arched a brow but didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Even Declan, who had spent little time on board a ship, knew that there were hungry rats everywhere, even in as wealthy a city as London. Especially in London.
‘Very well,’ Cedric continued. ‘You can go back to it. We’ll talk more in a bit, after I show my cousin around.’
The sailor grinned, then ducked away to climb the mizzenmast. The two men watched for a moment, and Declan was impressed by the young man’s thoroughness as he ran his fingers over every inch of rope while clinging like a monkey to the rigging.
But, as fascinating as the boy was, Declan had a purpose here and it was time he got to it. He turned to his cousin, watching as Cedric continued to stare at the boy with a cat-with-the-cream smile.
‘Cedric...’ he began, but his cousin interrupted.
‘I’m not going to listen. I’ve found a course, and I like it.’
Damnation, this was not going to be easy.
‘You’ve found many courses over your life, and you have loved every single one.’
Cedric grimaced. ‘That’s part of being young.’ He turned to frown at Declan. ‘Weren’t you the one always climbing trees, exploring caves, talking about sailing away to fame and fortune?’
‘I was a boy.’
‘And now we’re both men who can choose our own paths. I’ve found a taste for sailing.’
‘What if this passion burns out like all the others?’
Cedric looked him in the eye, straightening his shoulders as he faced Declan. It was the most adult expression he’d seen on his younger cousin’s face.
‘I have listened and learned. I’m not sailing the ship myself. I’m hiring people to do that.’
‘You’re the financial backing,’ Declan said.
And though it wasn’t a question, Cedric answered it anyway.
‘Yes. And it will be profitable. I swear it.’
‘But not with your own money. With your wife’s money.’
Cedric waved that way. ‘After the wedding, it will be mine.’
That was true enough, but the words still grated. What a poor lot for the woman who was attached like a barnacle to the real asset of her dowry.
‘There are other ways to get money than trapping a young woman.’
His cousin snorted. ‘Will you loan me the money?’
‘How much?’
‘Ten thousand pounds.’
Now it was Declan’s turn to snort. ‘Absolutely not.’
At least not without a great deal more study.
‘Then she is the only way. My father has burned through everything else.’
Declan grimaced. Whereas Declan’s father had been a violent drunk, Cedric’s father was a vicious gambler. It was just another manifestation of the Byrning legacy. And, as with all gamblers, he won for a time, and then he didn’t. At last reckoning the Earl had lost everything that wasn’t entailed. Which had left Cedric to find a way to finance his own life and his sisters’ dowries.
It wasn’t the worst idea to marry for money. Just a cruel one.
‘Who is this woman?’ Declan pressed. ‘The Duchess said she’s illegitimate.’
Cedric scrunched his face up in a mockery of Declan’s expression. ‘She’s been claimed by her father. More important, she has a lovely dowry. Recall, please, that I’m an adult and can marry the woman of my choice.’
‘Within reason.’
Cedric was a future earl. He might not have as many restrictions as a duke, but he couldn’t marry willy-nilly either.
‘Marrying a by-blow for her dowry isn’t reasonable.’
‘On the contrary. It’s exactly what my father did when he married my mother. And my grandfather. And his father before that. It’s our family legacy as much as the gambling, and you know it.’
He did know it. He also knew that Cedric had once sworn never to marry for any reason except love. The man was a romantic. He’d fallen head over heels in love at least three times before he was sixteen. And yet here he was, openly admitting to being a fortune-hunter.
‘You’re the grandson of a duke, the son of an earl,’ Declan said. ‘There are scores of wealthy women you could marry. It need not be this woman. Your mother will be all too happy to introduce you to—’
‘Empty-headed misses who bore me?’
‘Do you love her? Is that it? You know that love is a fleeting indulgence—’
‘I’m not a child, longing for a woman’s touch.’ Cedric gripped the rail, his expression unreadable. ‘I need ten thousand pounds to buy this ship and a cargo. If you will not loan me the money...’ He slanted a look at Declan.
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Then I shall get it through her.’
Declan crossed his arms, doing his best to understand his cousin’s bizarre actions. ‘Are you sure of her dowry?’
‘Yes. It is being proffered by her father, Lord Wenshire.’
Declan frowned. He’d never heard of Lord Wenshire.
‘He’s Lord Whitley’s youngest brother.’
‘The eccentric?’
‘The explorer. He made his fortune through the East India Company.’
Now he remembered—but he’d never heard of a daughter. ‘And this woman is his child?’
‘Yes.’
Declan leaned back against the railing, his gaze naturally going to where the boy continued to inspect the ropes. It was merely a way to stall as he thought through the information.
‘You’re not infatuated with her? You are marrying her completely for her money?’
‘I like her well enough.’
Society marriages had been built on less.
Declan started listing the facts, trying to sort through the issue. ‘She is Lord Wenshire’s daughter and dowered with ten thousand pounds.’
‘She’s dowered with this boat.’
Ah, now he understood. Still, he continued listing off her attributes. ‘She was born illegitimate, but her father has acknowledged her and made her an heiress.’
‘Yes.’
So why had the Duchess called the woman unsuitable?
‘Our mothers think she’s unacceptable. Is it really because she’s a by-blow?’
Being born on the wrong side of the blanket was a black mark, but it wasn’t an insurmountable one. Especially with a dowry worth ten thousand pounds.
‘I cannot fathom their thought processes. I refuse to even try.’
Declan couldn’t blame him for that. But what he couldn’t understand was why his cousin had chosen a woman despised by his mother when there were so many others with good dowries?
‘Out with it, Cedric. Why this girl? Surely there are dozens of well-dowered women your mother would celebrate. You can buy a boat then. Maybe not this one, but there are many others.’
His cousin arched a brow. ‘You think so? Thanks to your mother, I have been dubbed “The Inconsistent One”, and no wealthy woman wants that in a husband.’ He crossed his arms. ‘So, unless the family wants to loan me the money, I shall have to marry the girl I have chosen.’
‘A by-blow foreigner?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are the son of an earl—’
‘And the grandson of a duke. I know.’
‘Why make things difficult? For her, if not for yourself. Do you know how hard it will be for any woman to go up against our mothers?’
His cousin tilted his head back as he looked up the mizzenmast. ‘I require ten thousand pounds, Declan. If you care so much for the family name, then find me another way of getting the funds I require.’
He heard the finality in his cousin’s voice. Or perhaps it wasn’t finality as much as something a great deal darker. Blackmail.
‘You are using this woman as a threat.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘You will marry an unsuitable girl unless we pay to stop you.’
Cedric arched his brows in challenge. ‘What is the family name worth? Surely ten thousand pounds—’
‘Is a ridiculous sum. You cannot think we have that kind of cash simply sitting around.’
‘She does. Or rather her father.’
‘Don’t be a fool. I will not give in to blackmail, and you are a cad to use a woman so cavalierly.’ He shook his head. ‘Cedric, what has happened to you? You are not a man to use a woman this cruelly. In fact, you once swore you would marry only for love.’
His cousin rounded on him, the movement quick. It wasn’t violent, though Declan tensed at it, but the words certainly carried a threat.
‘And when was that, dear cousin? When did we last know each other?’ Venom dripped from every word.
Declan frowned. ‘At school—’
‘Yes. Ten years ago. When my father still had my sisters’ dowries. When the most difficult thing we had to do was spend our winnings at cards.’
Cedric had gambled at cards. Declan had been too afraid of the Byrning legacy to pick up the habit.
‘Then you disappeared to play in Italy.’ Cedric spat the words.
‘It was my Grand Tour,’ Declan shot back.
And it certainly hadn’t been fun. Not at the end.
‘I don’t care! You disappeared. My family money disappeared. And there I was, all alone, trying to find an answer.’ He gestured expansively at the boat. ‘And here it is. My answer.’
Declan shook his head, wondering where he had gone wrong with his cousin. How had that romantic boy turned into this angry, bitter man?
‘I will not give you ten thousand pounds.’
‘Maybe not,’ Cedric said, with a too-casual shrug. ‘Or maybe you will change your tune after tea this afternoon.’
Declan narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you planning?’
Cedric smiled in a way altogether too calculating to be charming. ‘Obviously you have met the lady early, but I shall introduce her to the rest of the family this afternoon.’
‘I have met no one,’ Declan snapped.
‘My apologies,’ his cousin said. ‘Pray let me introduce you properly—but don’t mention anything about our nuptials, will you? I haven’t proposed yet.’
Well, that was something. The lady need not know she was a ploy being used to blackmail Cedric’s family.
‘You can be sure she won’t learn it from me.’
He was here to stop the wedding, not push the relationship.
Cedric nodded, then put his fingers to his lips and let out a loud whistle. The boy who was now up on the middle sails looked towards them.
‘Come here!’ Cedric bellowed as he gestured.
The boy understood. He immediately began scrambling down the rigging, pausing at much too high a height before doing another one of those acrobatic flips to the deck. It made Declan’s heart leap to his throat—half in envy, half in fear—but the sailor landed with natural grace before rushing over.
‘Yes?’
Cedric laughed. ‘Take off your cap. Let me introduce you properly.’
Shock was already rolling through Declan’s system. His mind kept saying, No, it isn’t possible . And yet, with his cousin, of course this was possible. And, indeed, things proceeded with horrifying clarity.
He saw Cedric grin as the boy whipped off his cap and a short crop of straight black hair tumbled down, held back by a crude tie. The boy—who wasn’t a boy at all—smiled at him. Declan noted straight white teeth and a healthy glow after the exertion. He saw laughing eyes that might well be mocking his shock.
And he saw a beautiful woman in boy’s clothes with bare feet and trim ankles.
‘Declan, please allow me to introduce Grace Richards, Lord Wenshire’s daughter.’