Caution to the Wind (32 page)

“Have him join me, if you please.”

“Aye, sir.” Bull disappeared through the hatch.

Across the narrow deck, Amanda and her father strolled arm in arm. They were so busy chattering that he feared for their safety as they neared a pile of rope someone had left coiled in their path.

“Oy! Careful there, Miss!” Martin called out, just in time to allow Amanda and her father to skirt the obstruction before they lost themselves in conversation once again.

Will gave a soft snort. Surely they had covered the two years of missing time by now.

What would Neil’s reaction be when he learned his father had returned? Being an adopted son didn’t mean the bond would be any weaker. Still, somehow he couldn’t picture the headstrong, intelligent boy forming a close tie to this amiable but somewhat vacuous old man.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Neil asked, climbing through the hatch and stepping on deck.

His gaze flitted to his sister, scanned Blakely, then settled on Will. Recognition dawned in Neil’s eyes, but dimmed so suddenly that Will wondered if he had misread the boy’s expression. Waiting to hear his captain’s orders, Neil kept his gaze fixed on Will, his lips set in a thin line.

“Neil?” Blakely called.

Neil dragged his gaze from Will to his father.

“It is you, boy!” Blakely grasped Neil about the shoulders and pulled him into an embrace that was not returned. Releasing him, he tousled the boy’s hair. “I would never have recognized you. You’ve grown so much.”

“It has been several years.” Neil’s voice held no recrimination, just a simple statement of fact.

Will had thought to invite Neil to dine with them that evening, but instinct told him the boy wouldn’t welcome the invitation. To say he was not overcome with the same joy as his sister would be an understatement.

He dismissed Neil, sensing his relief, and ushered Amanda and her father below.

****

With Amanda’s father commanding her attention, the task of preparing supper fell to Cookie. He had improved significantly under her tutelage and the meal, although rather bland, was at least edible. Not that Amanda or her father noticed. They chatted nonstop and showed no signs of slowing down.

“You will excuse me?” Will stood.

Amanda gave him a dismissive nod before turning her attention back to her father.

On deck, Neil stood alone at the railing, his gaze fixed on the shafts of moonlight shimmering on the waves. Will doubted he saw any of it.

Will joined him at the rail and nodded a greeting. A man didn’t pry into another man’s relationship with his father. He would wait for Neil to decide whether he wished to talk. It didn’t take long.

“I barely knew him, you know,” Neil said, still staring out at the night sea. “He took me in after my parents died. I was grateful and all, but I never really thought of him as my father. He wasn’t around very often. Then he went away to war, and I nearly forgot him. I didn’t even recognize him at first.”

Will listened in silence, watching the intricate dance of waves and moonlight.

“Amanda has been my only family for a long time. She may have been a bit too motherly, but I relished it when I was younger. She could be so annoying at times, but I secretly enjoyed her attention. I knew she loved me and was trying to show it in her own, completely inept way.” Neil laughed, the strangled sound a strange mixture of pain and fondness.

Will smiled. He knew exactly what Neil meant. Amanda couldn’t be happy unless she had something to do for somebody, whether they wanted her to or not. He had never known the doting affections of a woman, his own mother not being the devoted type. Had he been asked, he would have said he preferred not to have a woman flitting about, seeing to his comforts. Now, he wondered how he would get by without her.

“She was the only family I had until...” Neil choked on his words.

“Until a father you barely knew showed up,” Will finished for him.

“No.” Neil turned, but stared at the tips of his boots. “Until you showed up, sir. I know we’re not related or anything, but you are the man I most admire in this world, and I would give anything to be like you.”

With his heart lodged in his throat, Will didn’t think he could have responded if he tried so he set a hand on Neil’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Sir, will I have to leave the ship with my father?” Neil asked, looking up at him.

“Of course not.” Will forced himself to sound unconcerned. “You signed on to my crew and you have an obligation to me and the rest of your shipmates. Bull and Buck would be especially disappointed if you left now after they’ve worked so hard to teach you what they know.”

Relief flooded Neil’s face, and Will hoped the boy’s father wouldn’t make a liar out of him by demanding the boy return home. Will could not keep a minor aboard ship against the wishes of his parents.

“What about Amanda?” Neil asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that,” Will said, gazing into the night.

He listened to the muffled sounds of the men on night watch and considered the question that had been nagging him from the moment Amanda had called the old man “father.”

Buck had offered some very convincing arguments for allowing Amanda to remain aboard. Will had grasped at them like a drowning man might reach for an imaginary piece of flotsam riding the waves. However, as soon as he came on deck and saw them together, he knew none of those arguments were as real as the relationship between a father and his daughter.

Amanda glowed with adoration for her father, and from all appearances, he returned her affections. If she couldn’t be more than a foot away from him now, how could Will possibly expect her to be happy with a life at sea? She might not have a chance to see the old man for months at a time.

More than anything, he wished to see her happy. At one time, that would have meant letting her stay aboard his ship. Now, he would have to let her go. He fingered the jewelry box still in his pocket. No longer a peace offering or an early betrothal gift, the necklace would be a farewell token.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Oh, there you are, Captain.” Mr. Blakely emerged from below with his daughter close on his heels. “It’s getting late, and I’ll be taking my leave of you now, sir. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

“You are very welcome.” Will nodded, then signaled for a boat to take Blakely back to shore.

A trio of sailors pulled back the stiff tarpaulin covering one of the nearby skiffs. Amanda excused herself, saying she would find Neil so he could bid farewell to his father.

Blakely rocked back on his heels and watched his daughter go, grinning like a man who had secured his place in the world. “I cannot wait to tell my friends what my children have been doing in my absence.”

A cool breeze rustled the hairs on the back of Will’s neck. “What do you mean?”

“Serving aboard your ship, of course. Why, Neil and Amanda had done more for the cause than I have despite my years of service in the army.” His voice held only pride. “They’ve been rewarded handsomely, too.”

The older man’s eyes twinkled, and this time, the hair on the back of Will’s neck stood at full attention. Had he let his guard down too soon? Would Amanda’s father squander her fortune? Squander it the way his mother had done with his own father’s?

Blakely’s eyes had a faraway look about them. Did he dream of the day he could relate the exploits of his children to friends, neighbors or anybody else who might lend an ear to an old man?

If Amanda’s fortune were at risk, at least it wasn’t due to malice or greed. More likely, Blakely would brag about his children’s accomplishments and attract the attention of every conman in Baltimore. Amanda might not fall for a con, but if she gave her father access to her accounts, she could lose everything.

He would need to devise a plan to keep her and her money safe from her father’s ineptitude. Will glanced toward the far side of the ship where Amanda stood nose to nose with her brother, their silhouettes outlined by the lantern behind them. They appeared to be arguing, though their hushed tones didn’t carry across the open deck.

“I’m afraid it would be better for Amanda if you spoke of this to no one. She has her reputation to think of,” Will said, offering a line of reasoning that any father ought to appreciate.

“What?” Blakely looked confused for a moment then understanding washed across his face. “Oh, yes, of course, of course,” he replied, with a harrumph.

Amanda rejoined them to stand by Will’s side.

“I’m sorry, but Neil has duties he must attend to.”

“Oh, well, can’t be helped, I suppose.” Blakely shrugged, then gave Amanda a quick peck on the cheek. “I will see you soon, my dear.”

Amanda reached for her father’s hand and held it before letting his fingers trail from hers.

Will grimaced when she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief aged to a yellowish brown and splotched with dark stains. He would have to check his receipts, for he was certain the saleswoman had charged him for a lady’s handkerchief to match her dress. The small square of linen, embroidered with a mermaid combing her hair on the rocks and edged in lace had cost him more than her stockings and silk garters combined.

Buck steadied Blakely, helping the older man over the side and with his first few shaky steps down the rope ladder. Only when he had settled himself on a wooden plank at the back of the skiff did he look up. Amanda waved at her father with her handkerchief before a sniffle had her clutching it to her nose. She stood at the railing, alternately waving and sniffling until the small boat disappeared, swallowed by darkness and the cool mist rolling in from the sea.

“Well, I think I’ll turn in,” Amanda said, her voice loud in the sudden quiet.

Will didn’t have time to reply before she hitched up her skirts and double-timed it down the hatchway. He followed her down the narrow stairs, intending to catch her before she reached her quarters and demand to know why she hadn’t gone with her father.

Skirts billowing behind her, she blew past the doctor’s cabin and headed for Will’s door. She swung it open and ducked inside. Will followed her in and closed the door with a soft click.

She stood motionless in the middle of his quarters, facing away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see her shoulders heaving. She reminded him of a cornered rabbit.

“Mind telling me what you’re still doing here?” Will said, keeping his voice calm.

****

Amanda pasted a smile on her lips and whirled around to face him. “I am a member of your crew, aren’t I?”

The question sounded more direct than she had intended. Backing a wolf into a corner might not be such a wise thing to do, but desperation had driven her to the point of recklessness.

“I thought you would be leaving with your father now that you know he is alive. I thought he would insist on it. I would, if I were him.”

“He thinks you’re an honorable man.” Amanda lifted her chin.

“And you? What do you think?” Will’s question held a note of uncertainty.

“I think you are as well,” she took a deep breath to steady her resolve, “but I’d really rather you weren’t.”

Amanda waited for his reaction, glad his quarters were lit only by weak shafts of moonlight through the high windows. She hated to think he might witness the desperation she knew to be written on her face. She could hear the despised emotion in her own voice.

She threw back her shoulders and stuck out her chin. She would need courage to carry out her plan. This might well be her last night aboard ship. With her father alive, she had relatives in Baltimore with whom she could be entrusted. Captain Stoakes...Will...need no longer feel guilty for depositing her ashore and sailing off. His last reason for keeping her aboard ship had disappeared with her father’s appearance.

She loved her father and was overjoyed to have found him alive and well, but she cursed his dreadful timing. Still, if this were to be her last night aboard ship, she would not leave empty handed.

Her breath came in short, hot gasps as though she had run a great distance instead of just down a short flight of steps and a few yards beyond. To calm herself, she took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips to the count of five. She would not let him see the extent of her need. Not yet anyway.

The silence in the small cabin made the usual soft night noises seem deafening by comparison. Anchored close to shore, waves lapped against the hull in a even cadence almost like a heartbeat. From the town came the faint cry of the night watchman declaring that all was well. The distant rumble of a snoring sailor filtered in through the cracks in the planks. Inside the cabin, two shadowed figures faced off, neither moved, neither spoke.

She had just told the captain she did not want him to be honorable. Had he not understood her meaning? She didn’t think she could muster the courage to be more direct. Destiny held her in a vice and no matter how she might struggle, she couldn’t free herself. With each second that ticked away, the vice tightened around her heart, and fate brought her closer to the end of her relationship with Will.

Amanda’s cheeks burned from her pasted-on smile, and she steeled herself to take what little life offered. She needed more time, but time had run out. Even convincing her father to leave her aboard ship for one more night had been a chore. Men could be so damnably stubborn about propriety at times. Perhaps not for themselves, but where their daughters were concerned, they knew no limits.

That she had spent the last several months aboard ship hadn’t swayed him at first. Then she suggested, with great tact, that he might have doubts about the captain’s honor. That had done the trick. It had been clear to Amanda from the first that Captain Stoakes ranked right up there with General Washington in her father’s eyes.

Nevertheless, one night would not be enough time to prove anything. Even if she could somehow, one night would certainly not be enough to gain what her heart most truly desired—his love. But if tonight was all she had, she would seize the opportunity and not look back.

She would have this one night of passion if nothing more. She must have it to carry her through the rest of her years. No matter how long she lived, she would never love another. She had a vision of herself, old and gray, staring out at the sea from her bedroom window, waiting for a lover who never returned.