Chapter Twenty-Four
KEEPING HER EXCITEMENT TO HERSELF had never been more imperative. She pressed her lips into a firm line against her demand that he first explain what he meant by his suggestion of “more.” He hefted the baskets, and she, following suit, kept her eyes on the road leading into the sleepy village of Draybridge. The stone church stood at the bottom of the hill, with the vicarage directly behind it. She slowed her steps, hoping he wouldn’t notice too much. There was no way on the Lord’s green earth she was going to allow them to reach the village until he had explained himself. Thoroughly.
“I have been at sea for many a year. As you know, I started as a cabin boy aboard Captain Ingram’s vessel.”
At his long pause, she prompted, “He was captain of a merchant vessel, the Twilight Lady. Yes? I read about it.”
“Of a sort …” He cleared his throat. “She was a merchant ship, most of the time. But not all the time. The records do not necessarily carry the full history … nor the true name of the vessel. I was not long under his leadership before I learned he carried a letter of marque from the Crown.”
“A privateer?” If she hadn’t been holding two baskets full of baked goods, her hand would have flown to her throat. “Is that how Sir Alexander gained his fortune and knighthood?” And as soon as the question was released, her next thought was to wonder if it was how Erik had made his fortune as well before being named the earl. But why would he need to pursue a fortune if he was heir to a title and a castle?
“Aye. When we were about to reach port in England, he would lower me over the stern to paint Lady over Treader.” The true ship’s name held such weight to it that the baskets tottered in her hold. He set aside his and grasped hers, setting them beside the road. He gently took hold of her arms and led her to the shade of a beech tree. “Ariel?”
“The Twilight Treader?” She fanned herself with her hand, a memory flickering to life. A news sheet with a sketch of the famed privateering vessel. “Then Sir Alexander was prone to—to—” She clamped back a moan. She could hardly release her question, but she had to know. “Was he prone to violent boardings? Or did he inherit the vessel as you did?”
“Not all privateers are like pirates,” he answered slowly. “And during those days I think Ingram sometimes wanted out of the privateering game. He wanted to be a merchant, plain and simple. Nonetheless, he was a privateer.”
“Was he violent?”
“I was but a lad and was kept below decks during the boardings.” He swallowed. “On more than one occasion, I was put to work scrubbing blood from the decks.”
She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Dear Lord in heaven. And you call this man your mentor? Your friend? As does my stepfather? Does my stepfather know that he was dealing with the captain of the infamous Twilight Treader?”
“I doubt your stepfather knows of Ingram’s past.” Erik rested his hand on her shoulder, offering her his strength. “But Sir Alexander was my first captain and a man who was like a father to me when I had none. As you know, I worked for him as his cabin boy from the age of eight to sixteen, when my uncle summoned me home to learn under him. Captain Ingram continued privateering sporadically until the war began two years later. Rather than join the Royal Navy, he executed his service to the Crown by making himself into the most effective privateer in British history. By this time, I longed to return to sea, and as Ingram was now further legitimized by the war, my uncle agreed at last to allow me to return. However, my uncle did not know of the man’s privateering … no one outside of Ingram’s inner circle knew the truth.
“I became second-in-command aboard Captain Ingram’s vessel in the throes of the battle with France. Our mission was to peacefully board as many French merchant ships as we encountered to help blockade the flow of goods between France and its allies. I worked alongside Ingram for five years, attempting to minimize any violence, until he was injured in the line of duty by a masked smuggler. He was knighted for his services. Ingram named me his successor to his vessel and his name at the age of three and twenty.”
She swallowed. “You are the captain of a privateering vessel?”
“Yes.”
“You mentioned inheriting his name. What name?” she whispered, her heart fearing the answer. If the Twilight Treader was under Erik’s command …
“Captain Warrick.”
No.Her heart stuttered. “Captain Warrick? He is known for his brutality!” She took a step back, unable to make sense of the man before her and the reputation of Warrick.
He lifted his hand to cease her panic. “I understand how it sounds. Under my leadership, there has not been a single death related to boarding. I was further recruited by the Crown to specifically chase down weapons smugglers who were thought to be passing messages back and forth between French sympathizers and Napoleon himself. These messages were discovered quite by chance. After seizing a ship two years ago, I opened a crate taken from the enemy vessel and found a message hidden inside a brick of tea leaves. I’ve caught quite a few of the messengers and their letters since then, but never the leader. Only recently did I discover his nom de guerre, Requin. I even boarded the very ship he was on and realized he was the same man who had injured Captain Ingram. We battled.” He gestured to his arm. “I was injured, and he escaped.”
“Then you saw the smuggler! Perhaps someone might create a sketch of Requin and send it to every port in England. Baron Deverell might be able to help you distribute them or be on the lookout for Requin. He frequents many ports as the owner of a merchant fleet, which I’m sure you know.”
“I didn’t see his face. Requin was masked. He did not become the leader through carelessness.” He swallowed. “There’s more.”
“Oh?”
“The reason I was so adamant about protecting you was …”
Because you love me?“Yes?” she prompted, her heart pounding out of her chest.
“Was because I received a threat against you from Requin himself … multiple threats actually.”
She paused to collect herself. “So I was correct that you were the reason. But why would Requin threaten me?”
“One of his many spies must have followed me and spotted us together. In my desire to befriend you, Requin’s spies decided to use you as the leverage they needed to force me to permanently set aside my mission to take Requin and his shiver down.”
Trying not to focus on his comment of befriending her, she asked, “His shiver?”
“Requin is French for “shark,” and a shiver is a group of sharks.” He grasped her hands in his.
She swayed and his arms at once wrapped about her. “And the warning on the flags? Will you heed it, Erik?”
“I could not live with myself if something happened to you on my account. I brought you here to keep you safe, and in saving you, I lost myself forever. Even if Requin had not requested I cede my position as Warrick, I would have done so still if it meant protecting you.”
She closed her eyes against the spinning.
“I know most in society despise our kind because privateering is essentially legalized piracy. I vow to you, I have never killed anyone in the pursuit of fame or fortune, which is why Sir Alexander wishes to have me replaced. He thinks I am weakening the name of Warrick because I refuse to follow his advice and his example. I beg of you to tell me that you do not despise me for being a privateer.”
She ached to lift her hand to his cheek, to reassure him that she felt nothing but the deepest respect for him. “I’d never—”
“Miss Beau, what a wonder I should find you during my morning constitutional.” Baron Deverell gripped his beaver hat and trotted up to them, grinning. “I see you have a bounty of baked goods. May I offer my service?”
“Well, Lord Draycott and I—”
He snatched Erik’s baskets from the ground. “As your guest, allow me, my lord. Where are you taking these?”
“It’s no burden, I assure you.” Erik’s jaw clenched.
She swallowed back her retort for Deverell to let them be. “We are taking them to the vicarage to donate for the war widows.”
Baron Deverell grinned at Erik. “Our Miss Beau has quite the kind heart.”
“Indeed.” Erik offered her his hand, the question between them weighing in the air.