“I think so. George just saw supplies laid on yesterday in preparation for deploying it for the shipping outfit’s maiden run.”
“Good.” Brand nodded. “I need to borrow it.”
“It’s yours anyway.”
“No.” He shook his head. “It belongs to the four of us, to the business, but first I’ll have use of it.”
“Why?” Astonishment lit John’s face. “I thought you were going after Miss Hayhurst.”
“I am. I’ll need a decent ship to carry the woman I love to London to marry her, won’t I? She’ll need to meet my family before that occurs.” Shock took hold as soon as the words left his mouth. Yes, it was time to make amends with his family. “Then I shall take her on a wedding trip worthy of her dreams.” His confidence soared. He would win his lady back, of that he had no doubts. This time, it was a matter of being himself.
“Aye, sounds like a worthy endeavor.” John heaved a sigh. “I’ll go with you, not as your first mate.” He held up a hand. “Unless you want me to. However, while you’re tarrying in London, I might as well have a visit with my father. You know, if I’m there anyway to stand up with you at your wedding.”
Brand’s mouth worked but no sound came forth. Finally, he nodded. His eyes misted with moisture. “Thank you.” Without the help of his best friend, he wouldn’t be here today. “I owe you so much.”
“Ha!” John shook his head. “Seeing you wed and happy is payment enough.”
“Then, let us not tarry any longer.” This time he didn’t turn away when emotion overcame him. He let his friend see it with no shame. Feeling things were what made him human, and a broken one at that, but it didn’t mean he was weak. “I have a life to begin.”
“Aye, Captain. It’s good to have a purpose again.”
It took nigh unto an hour to catch up with the HMS Bright Hope. Since the schooner was much lighter and smaller, it cut through the water like a knife to butter and made better time. Overhead, the sun was nearing its spot directly overhead that would proclaim the noon hour.
Brand wiped the sweat on his brow with a jacket sleeve. It’d be devilishly warm by teatime. “Bring her abreast of the Bright Hope as close as you can. I’m going to swim for it.”
At the wheel, John nodded. “Do you wish me to drop anchor and wait?”
“Or you could circle about. We should know soon enough if she’ll take me back.” He drifted to the port side railing. “Wish me luck, John.”
“You’ll have that and more, Captain.”
With a quick nod, Brand dove over the side. Seconds later, the familiar coolness of the North Sea closed over him. He pushed himself to the surface and then swam for all he was worth until he reached the hull of the Bright Hope. Thank goodness the ship was much like the one he used to captain in the Navy, for there was an iron ladder bolted to the side. It took next to no time to grab hold of one of the rungs and then pull himself upward until he reached the railing.
Dripping wet, he hoisted himself over the side and plopped ignobly onto the decking. Three sailors darted forward with shouts of alarm. One had a pistol drawn, another a saber, while the third had his fists raised and ready to defend the ship. As soon as Brand found his footing, he raised his hands, palms up. “Easy, boys. I’m not here as a threat.”
“On your knees!” The man without a weapon ordered. From his uniform, he was a midshipman, not an officer, but the one wielding the pistol was.
“If you’ll but listen.” Slowly, Brand kneeled but kept one hand up. “I need to speak with one of your passengers.”
The officer, a lieutenant, leveled the nose of his pistol on Brand’s head. “Now is not the time for social calls. And this is hardly the place. You’re a threat to this crew and its passengers. Why are you here?”
“The time is as perfect as any, and as I told you before, I’m here to speak to one of your passengers.” A trace of annoyance wove through his words. “Please, let me explain.” If his words were rather breathless, it was to be expected. This was what felt like the pinnacle of his life, and it all depended on the grace of this young pup of an officer. He stared at the man, refusing to give quarter. His presence here was too important.
“Fine.” The officer lowered his pistol but gestured to the man with the saber. “Locate Captain Bingham, post haste.”
“Right away, sir.” As the man ran off on his mission, Brand slowly rose to his feet.
There was nothing for his appearance—the image he’d wished to make for her destroyed by the sea—but perhaps that was in his favor. Elizabeth often adored it when he looked a mess. He glanced at a burly man who hadn’t lowered his fists. The man glared. Brand blinked at him with a faint grin. How well he remembered those heady first days of sailing when he’d do anything to defend King and country.
A commotion broke out once the man he assumed was the captain came onto deck. Various men about saluted, but the man sent them back to their positions with a nod and a soft set of orders. He was a tall man with a regal bearing and clean-shaven face. Blond hair gleamed beneath his hat. As he approached his position, he clasped his hands behind his back, but his hazel gaze never left Brand’s face.
“Good morning. I’m Captain Gregory Bingham. Now then, what’s this?” His tone was cultured and spoke to breeding. “Lieutenant Summerford said you wished to speak with a passenger on my ship.”
“I do.” Brand glanced at the young lieutenant as he belatedly rejoined the party.
“This is highly improper.”
He snorted. “Captain, everything I’ve done in my life up until now has been that, but now I believe I’m ready to walk the straight and narrow.”