Liberty Hill (Western Tide Series) (6 page)

A grin tugged at the corners of Evelyn’s mouth.

“I suppose it sounds grand,” she said, “but you needn’t name your ship after me.”

Lucius jumped from his seat, his excitement apparent.

“Then we have an accord?”

Evelyn held up her hand as if to stop him. Then she caught sight of her own ring and removed it.

“I am
not
your wife,” she told him. “From this day forward, I am your equal. Not your slave, not your servant, not your inferior. I am not your sister, nor your friend. I am simply your charge and you are my guardian. I am going to the gold fields by sea to meet my cousin and his wife, who are traveling by wagon on the Oregon Trail. Do you understand? This is the story and we are not to veer from it. That is my condition.”

Lucius stared at her a moment, his eyes lingering on the exquisite fabrics which enclosed her body.

“Meeting a cousin, hm?” he asked. “Dressed like that?”

Evelyn followed his gaze. Her wardrobe had been altered to reflect her status as a married woman. The girlish pastels had been replaced with lush, womanly hues, the necklines of her evening gowns had plummeted, and she now possessed a matching hat or bonnet for every new shade of fabric.

She smoothed her skirt.

“What do miners know of fashion?” she asked rhetorically. “In the style of a maid, I shall wear my lightest colored dresses and leave my head uncovered when the sun is not too unbearable. I doubt any man should know the difference.”

Lucius shook his head and chuckled.

“Aye, that may be so. Take my hand once more, Miss Brennan. Let us seal this most favorable agreement.”

Chapter Six

Lucius’ heart pounded as he gazed upon the
Steam Rose
for the first time. He was no stranger to ships. Throughout his lifetime of exposure to their complexity and grandeur, he had developed a fraternal affection for them. The
Steam Rose
was not unlike the ships he sent to and from the Orient and India, though she represented the sort of freedom for which Lucius had always yearned. He was no longer a slave to his father’s dynasty. Today, Lucius Flynn was a free man, and the
Steam Rose
was the embodiment of that liberty.

He had never wanted to kiss a beautiful thing so badly in his life.

She bore two masts, each equipped with three square sails, and a steam stack rose black and looming between them. Her beam, the widest part of her body, stretched fifty feet, and from stern to stem she ran two hundred and thirty feet in length. A good size, Lucius noted with approval. He was excited to pass the following weeks sunning on her decks, drinking from her store of ale (which was hopefully stocked well enough to supply three hundred thirsty men), and gambling in her drawing room.

Contrarily, Evelyn Brennan’s heart sank as she watched the deckhands and passengers scurry about. There was not another woman in sight. Since news struck of California gold, Evelyn had heard that ships like the
Steam Rose
were over-maximizing their passenger capacity and she worried that she might be forced to share a stateroom with a handful of stinking, bawdy men, many of whom she noticed were drawing rectangles on the deck with chalk.

“What are they doing, Mr. Flynn?” she asked pointedly.

“Why, what does it look like, Miss Brennan? They are setting up their quarters.”

“You mean to say there are no rooms for these men?”

“The rooms are full, lass.”

“But surely…” Evelyn gulped, “you secured a room for us?”

Lucius looked away and shook his head, no, and Evelyn went rigid with indignation.

“I will
not
sleep in the open air!” she insisted.

Lucius, however, was thrilled.

“Thus our adventure begins!” he exclaimed, setting his bag upon the hard planks.

Evelyn stamped her foot.

“Mr. Flynn!” she cried. “You must do something to alter our situation. Look at these men! They shall rob us blind! Did you not think to acquire a stateroom?”

Lucius waved her off.

“Aw, chin up, lass. You can’t see the stars from a stateroom, can you?”

“The stars! We shall catch our deaths in this March air!”

“Nonsense! We shall be sailing in warmer seas soon enough. I hear we are to make berth in Havana, Cuba. Did you ever dream of seeing Havana, Cuba, Miss Brennan?”

“I dream only of Ireland, Mr. Flynn,” she replied venomously.

Lucius grandly placed his hands upon his hips and took a large, exultant breath.

“Now, if you will be so kind to watch our things, Miss Brennan, I think I shall take a turn about the ship.”

Evelyn was aghast. Lucius was just going to leave her, like
this
? What was she to
do
?

“But Lucius-”

“Thank you!”

Lucius leaped over a fellow passenger’s belongings and disappeared behind a throng of travelers. Evelyn gaped after him.

“Mr. Flynn!”

He was gone, and Evelyn stood alone amidst a sea of excited men. None seemed bothered by the prospect of sleeping on deck, though the wind was like ice and the sun was hidden behind a thick blanket of cloud. Evelyn tugged the ribbons of her bonnet and pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders. For a moment, she watched for Lucius, but to no avail. He did not reappear.

“Now, whom do
you
belong to, missy?” a gruff voice inquired.

Evelyn did not bother turning around to see to whom the voice belonged. There were hundreds of men on this ship, not one different from the other in her opinion.

This comment led to several others. Before long, it seemed as though every man in sight was gawking at her, remarking on her beauty, and inquiring into her identity. She rolled her eyes, but somehow, this seemed to encourage her admirers further. They wanted to know what she smelled like and leaned in for a sniff, then they wanted to know what she felt like and began to pinch her dress.

“Enough!” she cried, exasperated. She raised her hand and slapped the nearest onlooker in the face. It did not matter if he was the one who touched her or not. The others would get the message.

“Let’s not spoil her yet!” someone called. “We’ve got a bit of a sail ahead of us, gents.”

The men laughed and a few lewd responses followed. Evelyn’s face flushed in anger and she sought an escape by kicking Lucius’ bag towards the railing, where she could gaze out at the docks and the many hands waving farewell as the ship cast off. There were plenty of women down there, and she wished she were among them. At least here at the rail, these men had to behave, for they were in view of their wives.

            As the ship emitted a throaty farewell, passengers flocked to the deck to witness the nascent of their journey. Evelyn received a few clumsy jabs from shoulders and elbows as men clustered around her, and she was on the verge of screaming in frustration when she discovered one of those elbows belonged to Lucius.

            “What are you doing over here, Miss Brennan?” he wondered. “Now you’ve moved and lost our spot! We shall have to sleep here, you know! Shoved up against this very rail! Everywhere else has been taken. I shall not take any blame if you decide to roll right off the ship.”

            Evelyn sighed.

            “Really, Mr. Flynn. As my guardian, it is
your
duty to sleep in between danger and myself. It’s high time you showed up, anyway. I cannot believe you left me alone with all of these hormonal dogs. They were after me not two seconds after you scurried off and their women were still waiting to bid them Godspeed from the docks! The nerve, I tell you!”

            “Oh, give it a rest, Miss Brennan. Once they hear how you complain they’ll have no more to do with you. That mouth of yours, as delicious as it may appear, is really your greatest defense.”

            Evelyn opened her lips to speak, but found she had nothing more to say.

            To the ignorant onlooker, the two seemed almost companionable as they watched the
Steam Rose
drift away from the docks. They stood side-by-side in silent meditation for many moments before Lucius spoke again.

            “I discovered something during my exploration of the ship that may be of great interest to you.”

            He watched her for a reaction, but she was playing aloof.

            “Oh?” was all she said.

            He thought her pride must be wounded, so he smiled to himself. Tormenting Evelyn Brennan was great fun, indeed.

            “Don’t you want to know what it was?” he asked.

            “Could you refrain from telling me if I didn’t?”

            “Certainly.”

            Lucius sealed his lips and continued to gaze out at the sea.

            Evelyn watched him, waiting, but he disclosed nothing.

            “Well, what is it?” she inquired impatiently. “Or do you expect me to beg?”

            “You’re begging now,” Lucius replied with a smirk.

            Evelyn gasped.

“I would never!”

            “Then ask me kindly. Like a normal human being asking a fellow normal human being.”

            “You presume I believe you are normal?” Evelyn asked mockingly.

            “Fine. I shall tell someone else of my discovery.”

            “All right, Lucius! Have it out.”

            “Tut tut, Evelyn. Is that the best you can do?”

            Evelyn pursed her lips.

            “Hm?” Lucius prodded, raising an eyebrow.

            “All right! Please, Lucius Flynn, may I know your great secret?”

            Lucius was thoroughly amused.

            “Certainly! Of course you can. You, Evelyn Brennan, are not the only female aboard this ship.”

            Evelyn turned immediately and began to peer about the deck.

            “There is another? Where is she?” she asked.

            “I shan’t tell you, lest you think lowly of me.”

            “You mean to say that
her
husband secured a stateroom.”

            “Precisely.”

            “Then perhaps she would be a dear and invite me to share in her accommodations.”

            “She has a child and a servant to accommodate.”

            “She has a servant as well? Where is her husband? You should take lessons from him.”

            Lucius chuckled while Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him.

            “Tell me,” she said. “What is this woman’s name?”

            “I don’t recall, I’m afraid. It’s French, though I believe she is English. Her husband is English, at any rate, and his name is Stephen Whitfield. Quite the gentleman. A man of the cloth, no less. A bit Puritanical for my taste, but I’m sure his wife will be capital company for you. Perhaps she will even be of positive influence.”

            “You’re so dreadfully witty, Mr. Flynn.”

            “Indeed, you’re not the first to tell me so.”

            “Dreadfully conceited, too.”

            “Aye, I’m afraid I’ve heard that, as well. Back to it, I’ll admit I’ve played a bit of a cruel joke. The truth is the ship
is
overbooked, but we are not to sleep outside. We are  to share accommodations with the Whitfields.”

            “Mr. Flynn! Whatever are you trying to do to me? It was a dastardly trick to make me believe we were to sleep among these wretches!”

            “And one I am proud of! Come along then, Miss Brennan. Let me show you to our room.”

            Lucius shouldered his bag and started off, leaving Evelyn to trail after him. Passengers closed in on her from all sides, forcing her to budge her way through the crowd while attempting to touch as few male extremities as possible. She tried to ignore the men’s many suggestive stares as they watched her pass by, silently brooding about the fact that every displeasing thing that happened in her life did so by the hands and will of Lucius Flynn.

Chapter Seven

            A girl of fourteen opened the door. She was dressed in common maid’s attire, with skin so white it glowed, and she possessed startlingly large, green eyes. She did not speak, but smiled warmly and gestured for Lucius and Evelyn to enter. With a courteous dip of his head, Lucius swept past her into the room, but Evelyn found she could only stare. She had never seen such a lovely girl in her life. There was nothing conventional about the maid’s appearance, nor particularly extraordinary about her nose, her lips, or her hair, which was honey blonde and pulled into a bun. Yet those eyes were bottomless and full as the sea, exuding such a strong, absolute presence of mind that Evelyn was completely awestruck.

            The spell was suddenly broken when another female voice erupted from within the cabin.

            “Welcome! Oh, welcome! We are ever so delighted to meet you!”

            A woman appeared from behind the maid, her dark curls bursting untamed from beneath the cap upon her head. Her cheeks were flushed and her red lips were turned up in a smile that spanned the breadth of her face. Her eyes sparkled with hospitality.

“Come in!” she beckoned Evelyn. “Come in! Make yourselves at home!”

Lucius stood in the center of the room, his hat removed and clasped in both hands. He was impatient for the women to become acquainted, for he wished to wander off and leave the females to each other’s company while he explored the ship and made friends of his own.

Evelyn recovered herself and joined him. They introduced themselves to the woman with the French name, as Lucius had not yet met Mrs. Whitfield and her husband was not in the room. Lucius wondered where the preacher had gone.

            “My name is Adele,” the woman told them. She indicated towards the young maid, who had closed the door and stood by attentively. “And this lovely girl is Josephine, my maid and nanny to my son, who’s fast asleep at the moment, I’m afraid.
His
Christian name is Bartholomew, though we call him Bartie. Dreadful title, I know! But my husband insisted upon naming him after his great uncle, who has been dead many years now. In fact, I don’t rightly know if my husband ever actually
met
Uncle Bartie, but Mr. Whitfield is a man of great respect, which you shall discover soon, I’m sure. Oh, but indeed! Mr. Flynn has already made his acquaintance.”