Free Becoming Lady Lockwood by Jennifer Moore Page B

.”
    “Certainly not. I shall be one and twenty on the twenty-ninth of this month, though I confess that I’ve quite lost track of how many days we have been at sea and am not exactly sure of today’s date.”
    “Ah, September 29, the feast of Michaelmas. You’ve a lucky natal day to be sure.”
    Amelia smiled. “When I was young, I believed the feast in the governor’s mansion was held each year to celebrate my birthday.”
    Tobias chuckled. “My Anna just turned nineteen this past spring. Bright girl, inquisitive, a hard worker. You remind me of her, you know.”
    Amelia was surprised how much such a simple statement touched her. “And tell me, sir. Does Anna live in London?”
    “Aye. She works as a chambermaid in a grand house in the West End—for a Miss Regina Foster.”
    “She’ll be glad to have you home for a visit, no doubt.”
    “This is my last voyage, miss. I’ve not been back to London for over a year. I plan to retire and take care of my Anna. And my old bones.”
    Amelia laughed. “You seem quite healthy to me. But returning to your family will be a welcome reprieve after such a long time away, I’m sure.”
    “And what of you, Miss Amelia? Do you journey toward family?”
    “My father lives in London, and he sent for me to join him.” Even as she said the words, she knew she was not destined for a loving reunion. Her father didn’t desire her company. He would not greet her arrival with open arms. She was a nuisance to him that had to be borne for the sake of a business arrangement with the Lockwood estate. But she had long since finished shedding tears over the lack of affection between them. She could only hope their business would be conducted promptly and she could return home to Jamaica.
    Once she had finished the seam she was working on, she decided to stroll around the edges of the deck and enjoy the warm breeze before supper. Thinking about Tobias and his undoubtedly loving relationship with his granddaughter produced an uncomfortable ache that she hadn’t felt for a long time. Since her mother and grandfather had died, she had been quite alone in a house of servants who treated her well but weren’t her family. She stopped and absently held on to a rope of rigging as she looked across the waves.
    Perhaps it was being so far from home in an unfamiliar environment that had dredged up old memories and left her feeling off-kilter. She wondered what awaited her in London. Her father would no doubt ignore her most of the time she was there—except for an occasional battery of words when he’d had too much to drink. What would it be like to return home to a father like Tobias, who was warm and loving and whose eyes saw only good in her? Her own father was cold and criticized her at every opportunity. She swallowed against the obstruction in her throat and swiped at the moisture in her eyes.
    Turning, she nearly walked into Captain Drake, who had approached without her notice.
    “Miss Becket. Pardon me, but are you well?” His brow was furrowed, and the concern she saw in his eyes only served to increase her bout of tears.
    “I am well, sir.” She attempted to laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “Just a spell of homesickness. Please excuse me.” Turning back toward the gunwale, she chided herself and tried to get her emotions under control.
    Captain Drake stepped next to her and offered his handkerchief.
    She took it and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Captain. I am behaving ridiculously.” She folded the handkerchief and handed it back to him.
    He looked down and took the handkerchief from her. His gaze moved to her face and back to her hand as he lifted it, leaned closer, then reached for her other hand. “Miss Becket, what has happened here?”
    She attempted to pull away, but his grip on her wrists was firm as he examined the blistered palms and swelling, punctured fingers, as well as one particularly large slash where her needle had slipped and dug into her