The Captain of All Pleasures (Sutherland Brothers #1)(27)
Author: Kresley Cole

“As soon as I get out, I’ll take you somewhere nice,” Lassiter, bless his heart, promised her. “Maybe we could go to Connecticut? Stay in Mystic—check out the old neighborhood?”

“We only lived there for a few months. The Bella Nicola is my old neighborhood.”

He exhaled loudly. “Just be patient, Nic. Only a few more days at your grandmother’s—I promise.”

He didn’t know how right he was about that.

“The solicitor thinks I’ll be out of here in a week,” he said in an optimistic tone.

“Why hasn’t he filed any complaints?”

Again, silence.

“Why, Father?”

“Because the reason for the fight could get out.” He continued over her disbelieving look, “It’s only a week more.”

He was staying in here for her. Oh, Papa .

“It isn’t a big concern, really. And it’s not as though I’m without comforts.” He waved a hand around the space.

The room truly didn’t look bad. Like a bird, she’d feathered it with blankets, pillows, and rugs purloined from Atworth House, browbeating the guard to allow it, until her father’s surroundings looked ridiculously lavish. He had cards, pen and ink, and she’d arranged for her grandmother’s cook to send him food three times a day until he was released. She’d ensured that he’d be fine.

Even after she sailed.

When she said good-bye, she acted as though everything was normal, though her hug was longer than usual. Later in her grandmother’s soft, crested carriage, Nicole reviewed her decision.

After this, she might be able to live on her memories when she was obliged to settle down according to the dowager’s wishes. To marry a man she chose for her. To live a lie. The woman never let an hour go by without reminding Nicole that she had attempted to help her father with bail and had had a solicitor sent around. She would be recompensed .

Her father, of course, would have an apoplectic fit once he found out where she’d gone. Right after her grandmother did. But this was for a good cause. She reminded herself that she did this as much for her father and the crew as for herself. They expected her to stay at Atworth House, a picture of docility, while Dennis—a nice sailor, a great helmsman, but a weak navigator—was in charge of guiding the Bella Nicola?

Which was silly, since she’d never done what was expected of her.

She would tell her grandmother she was going to the Continent to visit friends from school and begin buying her wardrobe for the upcoming season. With work, Nicole believed she could get the dowager to commit to some type of token watch over her father while she was away.

Then there was Chancey .

When she took a carriage from Atworth House the morning of the race, sea chests in tow, she dealt with only a little uncertainty and possibly a tiny bit of guilt for what she planned to do. She’d written a letter telling Lassiter that if he followed her after his release, she would always know he didn’t believe in her—that he didn’t trust her to get the job done. The letter had been true, even if over-wrought. Any time she heard from her conscience, she vowed he would have something to thank her for in the end.

“Good morning, Chancey,” she called out to his squared back as she strolled aboard the Bella Nicola . His shoulders stiffened before he turned around slowly to face her.

“Tell me I’m not seein’ Nicole on this deck.”

“Can’t do that, I’m afraid, because I’m here,” she said, tapping her finger to the tip of her nose and then pointing at him in a cavalier manner. “And I’m staying, so let’s get my trunks on board and make way.”

He looked at her as if horns grew among the curls on her head. “Ye’re touched in the brain if ye think I’m lettin’ ye sail. Now, get ye gone back to yer gram’s.”

She walked closer and raised her face to catch his gaze. “Chancey, if you kick me off this ship, then I’m walking straight over to the Southern Cross and sailing with Sutherland. You know he’ll take me on.” She gave him a sly look.

“Bloody hell! Yer father’ll have a stroke, ye just see if he won’t. And he’ll be comin’ after ye.”

“No, he won’t—I wrote him a letter. He’ll be fine,” she said blithely, though she doubted her pleading letter would in fact keep him idle in London. “One way or another, I’m sailing this race. Since you need me, I might as well sail with you.”

When he still looked unconvinced, she said, “You’re always telling me to follow my gut—listen to my instincts. Well, right now my instinct’s telling me that I need to be a part of this race.”

Chancey looked as though that idea affected him, but then he smirked. “I’ll just stay here till Sutherland sails. Then where will ye be?”

She smirked back. “If you go by his ship, you’ll see that he’s not sailing today, and rumor has it that he’s not going to sail for a couple more days. Who knows, Chancey, he might be waiting to find me,” she said. She didn’t believe that, but this line of argument appeared to be wearing the man down. “I’ll just go let him know where I am.” She turned on her heel, astonishing even herself with how scheming she could be. But this was an exception—shehad to sail.

She’d just made it to the gangway when he reeled off a curse. His voice gruff, he called out, “I hope all those dancin’ lessons didn’t make ye forget yer dead reckonin’ and numbers.”

Several hundred ships upriver from Nicole, Derek sat for a good part of the afternoon nursing a bottle of brandy. The race would be starting soon, so he left his cabin to climb up on deck. He took a deep breath of air, fresher because of the high tide, and scanned the port crowded with the world’s fastest moonrakers, their masts towering into the clouds. He could hear the lively music carrying over the water as an official band played. All along the Thames, shopkeepers filled the quayside with their colorful stalls, and the national flags of all the entries dotted the patchwork scene. It was a huge celebration, one he and his men should be a part of. But he couldn’t think of that now.

He’d expected that the sight of his better rivals with their spotless vessels in full regalia would make him feel like a complete fool for choosing to stay in port. He’d watched and jotted down his customary observations about the ships, but he hadn’t come to regret his decision. For some reason that he didn’t understand, he had to find Nicole before he sailed. An urgency gripped him that he couldn’t explain to himself, much less to his disgusted brother or disgruntled crew.

Remembering the astonished faces of his sailors when he’d told them his decision made his lips twitch. He hadn’t missed the quick exchange of coins as bets were paid. Well, they could laugh all they wanted. The decision to find her was right.

His semidrunken musings were interrupted when he noticed the Bella Nicola taking her place among the other ships. He knew Lassiter was still in jail, and that he hadn’t even attempted the surely futile search for another captain. So who in the hell was taking the ship on?