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Authors: S.G. Rogers

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“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Van Eyck,” Belle said. “But it’s very thoughtful of you too.”

“One might say it was
unusually
thoughtful of you, Stephen,” Louise said drily.

Mrs. Van Eyck hastened past the table just then, with her hand over her mouth. Louise grimaced. “Oh dear. Mama’s ill. I should go help, but I’m not sure what I could do for her.”

“Make sure the steward brings her some bark tea,” Belle said. “It eases the nausea.”

“Right. Capital idea.”

Casting a furtive look around, Louise grabbed a sandwich from her plate and hurried off.

“Well, that’s bad luck, isn’t it?” Belle said.

The waiter returned and bowed to Wesley. “Excuse me, Your Grace. Lady Frederic and Mr. Oakhurst have both succumbed to
mal de mer
.”

“Oh, no.” Belle frowned. “And after my father did so well on our last voyage too! I should make sure he’s drinking bark tea too. Excuse me, gentlemen.”

She left her plate largely untouched, and followed Louise from the saloon. Wesley and Stephen exchanged a rueful smile and a shrug before devouring every last crumb of food on the table.

“Well…what should we do now?” Wesley asked.

“There’s always the smoking room.”

“I don’t smoke, do you?”

“No, not at all.”

“We could play cards…or cribbage,” Wesley said. “There are probably games in the library.”

“Let’s go have a look.”

Chapter Ten

Friends & Rivals

N
ESTLED
A
S
I
T
W
AS
B
ETWEEN
the first and second smokestack on the ship, the walnut-paneled library on the promenade deck was oddly shaped. On one wall, hundreds of brightly bound books filled elegantly finished cases built to curve around the smokestacks. On the opposite side of the room, a cozy semi-circular ottoman invited long hours of repose. Overhead, rain thrummed steadily against an inset stained glass octagonal skylight. Bracketing the skylight were two wooden pillars intersecting square writing tables. There, passengers could sit and read, or choose one of the other upholstered, skirted chairs available for such a task.

When Stephen and Wesley entered the carpeted library, it was unoccupied. They spent a few minutes admiring the gold-lettered books, the paneled ceiling, and the stained glass windows upon which quotations of maritime poetry had been inscribed.

“I want a library like this when I grow up,” Stephen said.

Wesley chuckled. “There are worse aspirations.”

Board games of all sorts could be found in the cabinets underneath the bookshelves. They played several lively games of checkers, punctuated by occasional epithets such as “foul fiend!” and retorts such as “scoundrel!” At one point the seas became so rough the checkers slid from the board. The game was ruined, so Stephen sat back with his hands laced behind his head.

“Tell me, Wesley, do you have plans when you get to Europe?”

“I really haven’t had time to make any. When my attorney feels up to it, I’ll broach the subject with him.”

“Your attorney?”

“Miss Oakhurst’s father.”

Recognition dawned on Stephen’s face. “Oh, so
that’s
why she’s traveling with you. I thought perhaps you and the Oakhursts were old family friends.”

“I haven’t known her long, but Miss Oakhurst and I have become friends. I suppose my first task is to settle into my estate, and then I’ll decide what to do. Before I found out about the inheritance, I was to begin a teaching job in the fall. I think now, however, I’ll turn my hand to writing a book.”

“Why don’t you consider coming to London? We’ll be in town a great deal. There are bound to be parties and such. You and I could knock about together.”

“Two American gentlemen in London—it would be fun, wouldn’t it? I’m informed I’ve a townhouse there.”

“That’s perfect, then!”

“Only…I must ask what your intentions are toward Miss Oakhurst. You know she’s engaged, don’t you?”

Stephen threw his head back and laughed. “Engaged isn’t married, Wesley.” His lips curved in a smirk. “You like her a great deal, don’t you?”

“She’s made it clear she’s spoken for. Besides which, in the recent past Miss Oakhurst has compared me to a delinquent.”

“It could be she prefers delinquents to knights.”

“I doubt that. I’m probably not good enough for her, if truth be told.”

“But you’re rich
and
you’ve a title.”

“A title means nothing.”

“Not to you or me, but to these Brits it counts for a great deal. You could possess two horns and a pointed tail, but if you’re a duke, the English girls come flocking.”

“Are you suggesting I have two horns and a pointed tail?”

Stephen’s eyebrows waggled up and down. “I hadn’t noticed one way or the other.”

At that, Wesley laughed. In fact, he found he was enjoying himself tremendously.
Stephen Van Eyck isn’t bad company at all…as long as he keeps his distance from Belle
.

“Shall we have one last game before we dress for dinner?” Stephen asked.

Wesley checked his timepiece and nodded. “Yes, but I claim the red checkers this time.”

“A fitting color for an American devil.”

Wesley returned to his cabin, fully expecting to find Cavendish drunk or flat on his back with nausea. Instead, he discovered the man wielding a pair of long whalebone needles and a skein of woolen yarn.

“You’re
knitting!”
Wesley exclaimed.

“Ah, yes. I learned to knit years ago from a seaman when we sailed ’round the Cape of Good Hope. I’ve enough yarn for a scarf and a sleeping cap, I believe.”

Cavendish put down his needles and stood. “I’ve laid out a fresh change of clothes, Your Grace. As you are to dine at the captain’s table this evening, I thought white tie would be appropriate.”

“What makes you think I’m dining with the captain?”

Cavendish picked up an envelope. “His personal invitation was delivered about an hour ago.”

“Oh.” Wesley peered at Cavendish. “How is it you’re so hale?”

“Knitting has a soothing effect.”

Her father’s stomach seemed to settle after he drank his tea, but to Belle’s dismay, Mr. Oakhurst begged off dinner. “It would be better for all concerned if I stayed here. I’m not altogether certain I could hold anything down.”

As if to underscore the accuracy of his statement, the ship rose and fell on the crest of a wave at that moment. Mr. Oakhurst groaned and lowered himself gingerly onto his bed.

“Run along, my dear. I’m glad one of us is still fit. Have you any information on the Parkers?”

“Lady Frederic took to her cabin earlier this afternoon. When I last saw him, Wesley was fine.”

“Perhaps the young are more resilient. Please turn the light off when you leave.”

With one last sympathetic glance over her shoulder, Belle left her father’s cabin and headed to dinner. Soothing music, from a musician’s alcove set high above in a balcony at the end of the hall, greeted her as she entered the saloon. She’d dressed in a dinner gown with a sapphire and black striped bodice and a plain sapphire skirt. The arms were long and fitted, with puffs at the top of the sleeves, and the neckline formed a gentle curve across her décolleté. The hall was only two-thirds full, which was not surprising considering the seasickness that had befallen so many passengers. Waiters flitted throughout the room as they brought drinks and dispensed menus with practiced alacrity.

Belle hesitated in the doorway. She scanned the crowd, searching for Wesley, but didn’t find him. She’d resigned herself to sitting at one of the long tables, alone, when she spotted Louise and Stephen waving at her from an alcove. As she drew nearer, Belle noticed three other young people at their table, in addition to the Van Eycks. The eldest gentleman was not more than twenty years old, and the two girls were slightly younger.

The gentlemen stood as Belle approached. Stephen gave her an admiring glance.

“Good evening, Miss Oakhurst,” Stephen said.

“Good evening, Mr. Van Eyck.” Belle slid into a chair next to Louise.

“If you’re looking for Wesley, he’s seated at the captain’s table up front,” Louise said.

“Oh?” Belle tried to cover her disappointment. “Of course he would be. I hope your mother is better?”

“Mama is as well as can be expected,” Louise said. “She conveys her thanks for suggesting the bark tea.”

“Apple bark tea proved invaluable to many of the passengers on my last voyage, but the seas were not quite so rough then. Will you introduce me to your friends?”

“Yes, of course.” Louise cleared her throat. “Miss Oakhurst, may I present Miss Stacy Egermand, Miss Eva Egermand, and Mr. Carl Stanger from Chicago.”

Carl’s self-effacing grin reminded Belle of Wesley. “Actually, it’s Stenger and Egermann.”

Louise threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m so sorry!”

“No reason to apologize, Miss Van Eyck. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Oakhurst,” Carl said.

“Thank you,” Belle replied.

Stacy gave Belle an appraising look. “Miss Van Eyck informs me that your grandfather is a baronet.”

Forced into confirming the lie, Belle nodded and smiled.
I can’t seem to free myself from my web of deceit!

“What’s it like to be related to royalty?” Eva asked.

A slight fog of panic descended. “I…well, I’m not sure how best to answer that,” Belle began.

Fortunately, the waiter arrived to pass out menus, and further conversation was suspended. Belle took her menu and pretended to be absorbed in it.

“Mr. Stenger and the Egermann sisters are part of a large and very wealthy brewing family,” Louise whispered. “The matriarch, Mrs. Anna Stenger, is sitting at the captain’s table too.”

“Your new friends seem very amiable,” Belle said.

“Yes they are. We entered the dining room together by chance, and Stacy invited Stephen and me to join her family for dinner.”

“If we had one more boy, we could form a square,” murmured Belle.

“What?”

“Oh, I was just thinking out loud. I promised to teach Wesley to dance during the voyage. We can work out the waltz and polka together, but for the group dances we must have four couples.”

Eva leaned forward. “I couldn’t help but overhear, Miss Oakhurst. Did you say something about a dance?”

“I was just telling Louise that between all of us at this table and the Duke of Mansbury, we nearly have enough for a square,” Belle said.

“We’re only shy one gentleman,” Carl said.

“This is marvelous!” Stacy’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “Grandmama’s friends have invited us to all sorts of parties and balls during our European tour, but we desperately need to practice.”

“The three of us are hopeless at that sort of thing, especially Carl,” Eva said.

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