Liberty Hill (Western Tide Series) (11 page)

“No. I am perfectly capable of escorting myself.”

“Then
both
of us,” Brock and his double grinned, “bid you goodnight. Sweet dreams, Duchess.”

At that, he turned and walked away, a dark silhouette against the glittering heavens.

Chapter Ten

The following morning, Adele remained in bed with a headache. Evelyn went on deck to take tea and write in her diary, but when she took up her pen, her mind was clouded. She felt anxious, and instead of enjoying the calm and beauty of the vast blue ocean, she found herself scanning the deck. At first she would not admit to herself why she was doing this, but she could not avoid the truth. Her nerves were electric at the thought of seeing Brock Donnigan. At one moment she felt fear, then joy, then overwhelming depression. All of these emotions should have inspired her to write, but all she wanted to do was think. And fret.

She ran over last night’s conversation again and again. Evelyn was highly acquainted with favorable attention, but rarely had she thought of such attentions as anything but expected and sometimes aggravating. These were not so with Brock Donnigan, and the fact that he was anything but forward was upsetting. Like Lucius, Brock did not turn into a drooling idiot at the sight of her, and it was highly unfortunate that the Australian should have anything in common with her secret husband.

Her secret husband.
She cringed at the thought.

Whatever were they to do? The simple act of removing their wedding bands did not change the law, and the law said that Lucius Flynn and Evelyn Brennan were husband and wife. If Lucius were clever as well as ambitious, he would claim Evelyn’s inheritance, as well as Brennan House and her father’s lands, as his own. He would instantly be richer than if he obtained even moderate success in California, of which Evelyn was doubtful. Lucius, however, did not seem to be after riches so much as he was desperate for expensive thrills.

What a child.

Evelyn had read about their final port of call, San Francisco. It was a rapidly developing city and was sure to present any number of governmental offices. Perhaps she and Lucius could file for an annulment. Their marriage had not been consummated, not even with so little as a kiss. Surely the consequences of a single handshake could be reversed.

Evelyn twisted her hands together. Would Lucius agree to this scheme? It was in both their favors. Suppose one day, Lucius found a woman he
did
want to marry?

This idea made Evelyn feel a little better, though she was eager to present it to Lucius. He was still sleeping when she left the stateroom that morning, as he and Adele had been out late playing their game of cards.

What if Adele was right? What if Evelyn’s future husband
was
aboard the
Steam Rose
? And what if that future husband was Brock Donnigan?

Evelyn’s face grew hot at the prospect.

She barely knew him, it was true. Yet if the fierce beating of her heart was any indication of lasting love, she knew she would regret a prolonged marriage to Lucius for the rest of her life. If Brock returned her affection, she needed to be available to him as soon as possible.

She shut her diary, giving up on it completely. She stared into the empty cup that was once her tea and wondered when she had finished it. Her foot was tapping rapidly.

When
was Lucius going to wake up? And
where
was Mr. Donnigan?

She waited another few moments before giving up entirely. She was tired of being alone, and she no longer cared that Adele had a headache. If Lucius and Brock were not to make an appearance, she had to speak to
someone
.

As Evelyn was returning to the stateroom, she passed Lucius in the hall, and his sudden manifestation was most alarming. She had not expected him to appear so soon after she had forfeit any hope of seeing him.

“Mr. Flynn!” she declared, hands dabbing at her cheeks, which had flushed brightly. Eyes wide with surprise, she stood gaping at him.

Lucius felt a little surprised himself. Evelyn looked as though he had stumbled upon her while she was in the process of committing a crime.

“Miss Brennan?”

“Mr. Flynn,” Evelyn began. She worked her jaw and moved her tongue a little, still fumbling for words. She had only just been thinking of him, had only just been planning the end of their marriage. When she was alone, it had seemed like a capital idea; but now that he was standing directly in front of her, she felt a scorching wave of guilt. Was now the best time to confer with him? Perhaps they could set a date for another time, when she was more prepared. But who knew if Lucius could keep an appointment? He never even knew what day of the week it was.

“Miss Brennan.”

Lucius waited, then pursed his lips. If his instincts were correct, this looked like a woman who wanted to talk. If he ran now, he could escape without catching a single word. One could get away with leaving before a conversation began, but once speech was involved, one would be guilty of rudeness.

He was about to take a step when he noticed that Evelyn’s throat was showing. In fact, there was a whole canvas of skin showing just below her throat. Had he simply been unobservant in the past, or was Evelyn wearing another new dress? This one was a dark teal, and there was that black lace again. Had he not been distracted by that strange look on her face, he might have noticed just how stunning she was.

This observation cost Lucius his moment of escape.

“Mr. Flynn, I wanted to speak with you.”

Oh dear.

“Yes, Miss Brennan?”

“In private, if you please.”

Lucius looked down the empty hall.

“On this ship, Miss Brennan, I think where we stand is about as private as it is going to get.”

“Indeed.”

Again, Evelyn grew quiet. Lucius amused himself by examining her dress.

“Is this new?” he asked presently, yanking Evelyn from concentration.

“Is what new?”

“This dress. I have never seen it before.”

“Yes, well, before we got on this ship, we spent little time together. I probably own a hundred dresses you have never seen.”

“Not dresses like this.”

Now Evelyn was perturbed.

“Dresses like what?”

“Well…”

“Dresses like
what
, Lucius?”

“Dresses that reveal so very much of your… figure.”

Suddenly self-conscious, Evelyn hugged her diary against her chest.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Lucius said, a little disappointed. “They make you look better than I’ve ever seen you.”

“Are you implying that I looked shabby before?”

“No, of course not! All I’m saying is you look quite lovely.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him.

“For God’s sake, Evelyn, it’s a compliment!” Lucius exclaimed, exasperated.

“I want a divorce, Mr. Flynn.”

“Come again?”

“I wish to have our marriage annulled.”

Lucius paused. Did he just hear what he thought he heard?

“Does this have to do with the dress?” he wondered.

“It has nothing to do with the dress!” Evelyn exclaimed. “I have been thinking about it all morning, and I believe it is the best solution for us. We can arrange for it as soon as we arrive in San Francisco. It needn’t take long.”

Lucius took a moment to ponder the gravity of Evelyn’s request while the mood between them grew sober.

 “Miss Brennan,” he said, slowly, “we have no grounds-”

“We have all the grounds we need, Mr. Flynn,” Evelyn countered, her resolve strengthening as her words came with confidence. “This marriage hasn’t been consummated. It was a mistake from the very beginning. Surely you must agree. Already we are pretending it isn’t legitimate. Why not quit the charade and make it a reality? We gain nothing from this marriage, so we might as well cast it aside. It was desired solely by our fathers, one of whom was not even alive to see it through.”

Lucius did not know what to say. In that dress, it was awfully difficult to agree to Evelyn’s proposal. A man would be a fool to let go of such a pretty thing.

“I beseech you to divorce me, Mr. Flynn,” she persisted.

She seemed terribly confident in this scheme, and that irritated Lucius. Who did she think she was to simply cast him off in this way?

“What you suggest is scandalous!” he cried.

“I’m not suggesting. I’m demanding. No one needs to know.”

Lucius searched for some sort of argument.

“God will know!” he presently stammered. It was the best he could come up with in the moment.

“Since when do you give a fig about God?” Evelyn asked, incredulous.

Now it was Lucius’ turn to be offended.

“Now wait just a minute! You cannot say things like that! Of course I give a whole heap of figs about God. Obviously it is you, Miss Brennan, who hasn’t a fig of faith.”

Evelyn gasped.

“Do not insult me, Lucius!”

Lucius was worked up now. He pointed a finger at Evelyn.

“
You’ve
insulted
me
, Evelyn! How dare you presume to know anything about me and what I think about God.”

“I have only to witness you
breathe
to know you care nothing for God.”

Lucius shook his head.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Brennan, I’m sorry. I did not realize that when you speak of God, you are really speaking of yourself. Forgive me for never bowing down and groveling before almighty Evelyn. I suppose I never realized just how absolutely tyrannical you can be. If I had known, I would have never given you a second thought!”

“You are cruel to assume I am as self-righteous as that.”

“Not cruel enough,” Lucius disagreed. He regarded Evelyn with a sudden, bitter taste of dislike. Just his moment’s hesitation was enough to kindle her stubborn will to succeed in this matter. He decided to tickle her pride before disappointing her entirely. “I think I
shall
divorce you, Miss Brennan. Only I shall not sever this special connection just yet. Why waste any more precious time? In this race for gold, time really is money, and I want as much of it as I can get my hands on. The courts of San Francisco can wait while I establish my claim.”

She waved off his suggestion as though it posed no problem.

“Then I shall wait in San Francisco also.”

“Tut, tut, Evelyn. Don’t you remember our agreement? If you do not stay with me until my gold lust is satisfied, you get nothing. You’ll be penniless, and God knows- excuse me-
you
must know what kind of situation poverty presents to a woman.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, you only need to wear that dress to ensure your illustrious success,” he added.

“Lucius Flynn! You lewd, filthy, vile, treacherous-”

“Now, now. There’s no need for name-calling. I am ever so glad the cat finally released your tongue, Miss Brennan, for you have such a sweet way with words. This has been a very pleasant chat, but if you will be so kind as to excuse me, I shall be on my way.”

Lucius finally managed to slip away, leaving a furious Evelyn staring after him.

Chapter Eleven

The days at sea were dreadfully hot, and the food at mealtimes was decidedly worse than at the outset of their journey, which was nearly two weeks ago now. The
Steam Rose
was overbooked with men whose stomachs were apparently bottomless, and even those in first class were beginning to see the consequences of this poorly stocked voyage. Tiny critters had begun to burrow and eat their way through the provisions, and the drinking water tasted old and stagnant.

The passengers complained that their bodies ached from a constant plague of fatigue. Their thoughts were slower and bent on accomplishing as little as possible during the day, and their joints were riddled with lethargy. They passed the days sleeping or succumbing to distant stares, their attention too short to read or write. The feelings were akin to a constant state of dizziness. They could not quite get their bearings as they longed for the comforts of home.

At the close of one particularly warm afternoon, Evelyn was in the stateroom with Adele and Josephine.

“First they cram us into this little room together,” she spat, “forcing us to sleep two to a berth with people we have never met in our lives. How were you to know that Lucius and I were not criminals? How were we to know you were not going to murder us in our sleep? And then they fail to restrain their passengers from overeating, depleting the food supply faster than you can say ‘ridiculous’. I am telling you, I will
not
eat another crust with weevils dodging to and fro. How preposterous! Then they litter the deck, a
common area
, with scalawags and outlaws, men who are the lowest of the low of society! But forgive me, I do not include Mr. Donnigan in this generalization. Adele, do you not think all this a capital offense?”  

Josephine was pacing the floor with little Bartie, who was red-faced and crying, and Adele was having trouble lacing her corset for supper. Evelyn’s tirade was lost in the din as the older woman gave up on the evening’s wardrobe and raised her voice at Josephine.

“Please, Josephine! That child’s nonsense is enough to make my head split in two! Can you do
nothing
to quiet him? I need your assistance with these laces, and you are taking so painfully long to console the baby that I shall be late for supper yet again, as I am late for supper every blasted evening!”

Everyone in the room grew silent, even the child. It was not like Adele Whitfield to lose her temper.

Bartie resumed his tears, now inspired by his mother’s foul mood rather than whatever had ailed him in the first place. Josephine looked torn between bouncing him on her hip and attending to her mistress, who now sighed and pushed a couple of pallid fingers against her aching forehead.

At the sight of her friend’s distress, Evelyn forgot herself for one moment and placed a reassuring hand upon Adele’s waist.

“Forgive me for not realizing your need,” she told her kindly. “Let me help you.”