“Now see here, you’re talking like you’ve a damaged rudder. I have no reason to forgive you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I admire Mrs. O’Donovan. If things had been different back then, I might have courted her myself. It wouldn’t have worked, as her heart belonged to Gareth. Let’s get you back up to the house. I’m sure the earl will be anxious over your disappearance.” He hurried to the door and shouted down the corridor for his first mate.
Jinx arrived in seconds, recognizing Jack’s growl as being a matter that required immediate response. “Captain, what’s the order?”
“See the old man gets back to the house.” Jack closed the door a little to block Barnaby’s view and waved his hand about his ear to signify the old fellow’s confusion.
Jinks nodded in acknowledgement.
Leaning forward as he hung on the doorjamb, Jack whispered in his first mate’s ear, “Make certain Lord Greystowe is made aware the old gent has been in the habit of ‘wandering about’—both physically and in his upper chambers. Tell his lordship precisely that, from me.”
Jinx nodded and Jack turned back to his guest.
Mr. Barnaby smiled at him in such a pleasant manner it was nothing short of disturbing.
Chapter Six
Chloe embraced her dearest friend as they stood on the deck.
They were muttering careful little phrases of affection.
For the first time, Chloe’s heart knew a moment of panic. Was she making a mistake, casting away her place with this loving family to chase after the unknown? Was she mad to long for a better life with her true kin?
“All these tears won’t prevent the tide, my dears,” the count reminded them. “Captain Rawlings is anxious to weigh anchor.”
Elizabeth released Chloe from her bruising embrace. The sight of Elizabeth’s pale face wet with tears made Chloe’s heart plummet.
“Promise you’ll come back to us, one day?” Elizabeth pleaded. “If ever you need us, you’ve only to send word. Isn’t that right, Donovan?” She glanced up at her imposing spouse.
“Yes.” Count Rochembeau gazed down at Chloe with seriousness. He stepped forward to wrap gentle arms about her in a farewell hug. “Dear Aunt Chloe,” he murmured, his deep voice dripping with kindness as he kissed her forehead beneath her bonnet. “If you need us you’ve only to send word through my shipping offices in London or Portsmouth. We will arrange your passage here.”
“Perhaps you’ll come to visit me in Spain? My uncle would surely welcome you.”
The count nodded solemnly and did not comment. Why did she feel as if he didn’t believe a wealthy family in Spain was waiting to welcome her into their fold?
“I will tell my family that you took such gentle care of me after my husband died,” she said brightly, hoping one last time to impress him.
His lordship advised her to tell her family only that her husband had been his relative and part owner of the plantation, not that he was a bastard of mixed racial blood. The count had written a letter introducing Chloe as the widow of the honorable Gareth R. O’Donovan and as the daughter of Juan Renaldo Ramirez.
The Spanish were staunch traditionalists, the count had cautioned her severely. Spanish nobles would not welcome a woman of questionable background into their family. It was unfortunate, but as Chloe was traveling to the Old World, he insisted she be aware of the lingering prejudices to be well armed in her quest. Chloe was not troubled about hiding her origins in her new life. Living on a small island where people knew too much about her and despised her for it was the precise reason she wished to leave her childhood home.
She hugged Elizabeth one last time. The count escorted his lady across the deck and down the plank to the wharf. Chloe brushed at her tears with her handkerchief and went to stand at the rail so she could wave goodbye.
The Beaumont family stood below, the count with his dark black
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia