Chapter Six
August 19, 1817
At noon, Elizabeth walked about the fountain in the town square. The simple sculpture of a Greek goddess dumping out an urn of water couldn’t hold her attention, for the whole of her being strained for the first glimpse of Brand.
Yesterday had been one of the best days of her life. She’d finally had the opportunity to sail upon the River Orwell. It had been everything she’d dreamed it might and more. The sensation of gliding upon the water in Brand’s ship still managed to tickle her stomach. She’d stumbled perhaps a few times before she grew what he’d called her “sea legs.” After that, she walked the deck despite the occasional pitching as if she’d been borne to it. He’d given her a brief tour, even of the cramped but cozy quarters in a cabin below that featured two narrow bunks, a low table, two polished wooden chairs and several cabinets she assumed contained bedclothes and other essentials that made life on the sea comfortable.
To say nothing of the joy she’d reaped of watching him manipulate the sails and navigate through the water as if it were as easy as cutting butter. The way what he’d called “the boom” swept over the deck when he changed directions and the sound of the wind filling the sail fabric had been one of the more exciting things she’d known. Beyond that, the views seen only from the water made her breathless and anxious to travel. Her body yearned to go farther where the river joined with the North Sea, to put the horizon before her and see only vast expanses of water.
Would he take her?
“Hello, Elizabeth.” His rich tenor never failed to send gooseflesh over her skin and send delight skittering down her spine. “I trust you passed a good night?”
She spun about so fast the skirts of her navy dress flared slightly. He’d sneaked up on her from behind; of course he did. The clever man. “I did.” Dear heavens, he was as well turned out today as he’d been every other time she’d seen him. Her heartbeat accelerated, for she hadn’t become accustomed to his presence, and it was a tad exciting knowing he’d come merely to spend the afternoon with her. “I slept so well that I was late in rising this morning, much to my brother’s annoyance.”
A slow grin curved the perfection of Brand’s lips, and she gave into a shiver. More than ever, she wanted a kiss from him. Yes, he’d stolen one yesterday on his sloop, but it had been all too brief to satisfy her curiosity. “If I may offer the truth, William can go hang. He has no right to keep you a veritable prisoner. You have a life to live.”
Oh, he was charming to a fault, but truth shone in his eye, and that endeared him to her all more. “Thank you. I’m becoming rather addicted to these brief periods of freedoms.” The faint tinkle of the water in the fountain behind her provided an idyllic backdrop. While villagers busily went about their errands through the town square, none of them paid her much mind. “Uh, what had you planned for this afternoon? There’s a quaint tea shop not far from here if you wish for a repast.”
I can’t very well beg him to spirit me off to a shadowy doorway and have his wicked way with me, can I?How sinful that would be. But oh, she was exceedingly curious, for each time he touched her, caressed her skin like he’d done yesterday, gave her teasing gentle kisses, the need for more built within her.
Brand took her gloved hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed her middle knuckle before threading their fingers together. “I thought to stroll past the shops. If something should catch your eye, we’ll investigate it.”
“Oh? You don’t mind doing something so… pedestrian?” She’d assumed a man used to action and adventure wouldn’t deign wasting his time in such a manner.
“Unless I’ve missed my guess, it’s what you enjoy doing, yes?” When she nodded, he continued. “Then it’s what I’ll enjoy doing, for I’ll be with you.” He tugged her away from the fountain and toward one side of the shop-lined cobblestone street. “Where do you wish to start?”
Her heart fluttered at his dedication. “There are a few seamstresses that have businesses along this stretch. Across the street is a milliner I particularly like. She makes wonderfully feminine creations. Next to her is a shop for gloves and fans, any accessories really, for both men and women.” She smiled and looked into his face. His expression was intense as it always was, but no trace of boredom was detected. “I like to spend time ogling the goods in the windows and dreaming, for none of those items will ever be mine.”
“Whyever not? Isn’t that what ladies live for?” They reached the first shop and he paused, peering into the display window with her at the most stunning dress she’d ever seen.
Obviously, a gown intended for a high society event, the gold satin gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. A delicate overskirt of golden netting twinkled with tiny spangles. Puffed sleeves were trimmed with white tulle as was the scooped bodice that shimmered with the same spangles as the overskirt.
“Oh, my, isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?” she breathed, temporarily forgetting Brand’s presence. Elizabeth touched her gloved hand to the glass. “I can’t imagine the lady this gown was meant for or what function she might wear it to.” Those things were well beyond her ken.
Brand squeezed her fingers. “A ball or some other fancy dinner party. Perhaps even connected to the ton.” He, too, stared at the gown. “It would look splendid on you, Lizzy,” he said in a soft voice.
She snorted. “And where would I have to wear it? William only receives invitations to a few dinners and includes me out of pity. They’re never anywhere with people high on the instep, though I’m sure he’d adore the chance to minister to the wealthy citizens of England.” She shrugged. “I’m never more than an afterthought. Besides, my brother would never let me wear something that pretty.”
A growl escaped the captain. Brand tightened his hold on her hand. “You are not an afterthought.” He tapped the glass with a knuckle. “William is not your keeper, and if you wish to wear a gown like that, you should.”
“To do what? Read to the poor children of Ipswich or bring baskets of bread to the indigent along the shore?” She shook her head. “No, Captain, such a life is not for me. To say nothing of the expense this gown would incur.”
“It could be.”
“How? You’ve seen the context of my existence.”
“Perhaps you’ll marry a man with connections.” Emotions she couldn’t identify graveled his voice, but he kept his attention on the shop window, so she only saw his face in profile, the eye patch prominent—another mystery.
“That assumes I’ll meet such a man. The only one I know who is of the ton is you.”
He grunted. “My best friend John is a baron’s son.”
A touch of mischief ran through her veins. “Perhaps you should introduce us.”
“Not likely.” The words blended with another growl. Why was he upset? Brand took her arm and moved her toward the next window. “Tell me about your childhood,” he said, and this time his voice was more pleasantly modulated.
“Oh, there’s not much to tell.” She peeked into the window. Reticules and slippers were on display. The fancy embroidery work made her mind spin. “My parents were missionaries. Their favorite places to work were in Africa. I can only image what life there was like. William was a young child at the time. I hadn’t been born.”