Chapter Two #3
Michael’s mouth opened to respond in kind, but he found it reasonably difficult, for he was immediately distracted by the woman’s face.
And what a face.
Small, and round, with large, green eyes and pert lips that were pressed together. Her brow was furrowed, but that could not detract from the beauty of her jaw, nor the way that her face was encircled by fiery-red hair pinned back severely.
She was, in short, exquisite.
“My dear lady,” Michael said before he could think of anything else to say.
The woman glowered. “I’m not your lady.”
“Not yet,” he quipped, unable to help himself.
Well, he was a Chance, wasn’t he? He could run to the other side of the world, immigrate, and never see a British shore again, but there were some things that one could not outrun.
The Chance charm was one of them.
The Chance charm did not appear to have worked. The woman, whoever she was, rolled her eyes and stepped around Michael as though he were nothing more than an annoyance, still picking up the papers she had flung about.
“Go away,” she said curtly. “I’m busy.”
“Let me help you.”
“I didn’t ask for your help!” the woman said sharply.
Michael shrugged as he picked up three pieces of paper and held them out to her. “I know. Here you are.”
She was clearly in two minds about whether or not to take the pages from his hand, which afforded him a few moments to read the lettering on the page.
It looked awfully formal, the sort of thing a solicitor would write, and it was covered in numbers more than words. Percentages and charts, the sort of thing his Aunt Dodo would have adored.
But there were a few words, and Michael caught sight of Captain Seaton more than once.
“These are contracts?” he said lightly. “For Captain Seaton?”
The woman glared. “So?”
“So I would imagine the captain will want all of these sheets of paper back,” said Michael, remembering that a woman probably wouldn’t understand such things and would therefore need it explained to her.
“I imagine the contract will be worthless without all the pages, and then won’t this captain be annoyed? ”
“Captain Seaton most certainly would be,” said the woman archly. “And thanks to you, I’ve missed the Dreamer. It’s gone.”
Michael blinked. “‘Gone’? ‘Dreamer’?”
“Name of the ship. And it’s gone,” repeated the woman with a sigh, snatching the pages from his hand and turning around to pick up a few more from the ground. “And I was supposed to be on it, too.”
“‘On it’?”
But of course, yes—Michael had heard about this. Many ships had a woman on board to… Well. To see to the men.
Strange. She did not look like a harlot, though Michael had admittedly much less experience in such matters than many gentlemen of Society. When he had taken a woman to bed, it was usually a widow in need of a release and not much more. He hadn’t ever felt the need to purchase a woman.
The woman laughed darkly as she picked up the last few pages from the ground and stuffed them under her arm. “Yes, on it—but she’s only gone to Edinburgh. She’ll be back in a few days.”
“‘She’?” All too late, Michael remembered. Of course, all ships were she. “Oh, right. The Dreamer, you say?”
“She’s an excellent ship, and I should have been on her,” the woman said with a sigh as she turned away from him. “Oh, well.”
And with that, she started to walk away from him toward the docks.
‘Oh, well’? Was that it?
Quite against his better judgment, Michael followed her.
To the docks, he told himself firmly, his entire body stiffening as the woman stepped into the light. To the…
Dear God, but she was beautiful.
She was now standing in the sunlight, and it was astonishing just how brilliantly bright her hair was. Her glossy waves were pinned back, but no amount of pins could hide the beautiful color, nor the way her eye—
Her glaring eye. “Are you following me?”
“I’m going to the docks,” Michael said quickly. “Will your captain be upset with you?”
“My captain?”
“This Captain Seaton, the one whose papers you have,” he explained patiently.
Lord, but it was a shame there was beauty here but no brains.
“Captains are important people, you see. They cannot wait around for their paperwork—though I hope it won’t get you in trouble.
I’m sure your captain will be accommodating if you… Well. Ask nicely.”
And Michael found to his surprise, as he walked beside the hurrying woman, that he did hope so. This woman, whoever she was, was clearly not very bright; why she had been trusted to wander about with Captain Seaton’s paperwork—and not even in her satchel—he did not know.
But she was very beautiful.
As they walked, Michael gave into temptation and reached out to touch her arm. “I am sure if you explain things, miss, your Captain Seaton won’t be too angry with you. They are very important people, after all, aren’t they? Captains, I mean.”
The woman halted, turning toward him with a sardonic smile that Michael rather liked.
What he did not like were the words that came from her mouth. “I know captains are very important people,” she said sweetly, her eyes glittering. “I am Captain Phylis Seaton.”