My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance) (4 page)

When the maid came to enquire when they were to leave, Jane informed her that she would not be required, saying, “I know not what to expect Judith, and because of the nature of the journey, I believe it more practical that I travel alone.”

The maid protested, stating that her mistress would be in need of her services, but Miss Chandler smiled and brushed it aside. “Do you think me so poor spirited as not to be able to manage without your assistance? I am perfectly capable of dressing myself and attending to my own needs. You must have no fear for me.”

“But
, miss; to travel alone in a foreign country, you will draw attention to yourself.”

“On the contrary, it will be easier to travel if I have only myself to consider. Now stop your fretting, I will manage quite creditably on my own.”

“But think of the impropriety of traveling alone, miss,” the maid insisted, trying her utmost to convince her employer.

“
I have no time to consider the proprieties when Harry has need of me,” replied Jane, becoming irritated with the maid’s doggedness and wishing only to be gone.

The coach was ordered to be brought to the front and the portmanteaux were hastily loaded. She was determined not to miss the tide, not even the thought of traveling to Portsmouth on roads lit only by a fitful moon deterring her from setting out immediately. Clad in a serviceable traveling dress of blue merino, a plain bonnet and a heavy woolen cape she stepped into the coach.

Pulling the cape tightly around her slim figure she made herself comfortable in the corner of the vehicle as it set forth on its journey.

Sleep was out of the question. Had not the jolting of the coach kept her awake, thoughts of Harry rendered repose impossible. She had evolved no firm plan; indeed, she knew not what to expect of the journey into Portugal, but now that the journey had become a reality she determined to do all that lay in her power to rescue him.

***

The horses’ hooves clattered over the damp cobbles of the quayside just as dawn was beginning to break and the groom brought the carriage to a halt beside the moorings of The Mistral. It started to rain as Jane alighted and supervised the removal of the two portmanteaux but she appeared not to notice, her whole attention being concentrated on the craft lying at anchor before her.

At the sound of her arrival, the deck of The Mistral became a hive of activity as she was prepared to sail and two of the crew came down the gangway to assist with her luggage.

“
You are to come aboard, ma’am,” said the taller of the two, as throwing one of the trunks easily onto his shoulder, he prepared to lead the way.

Pulling up her hood against the rain, she held her skirts clear of the gangway and followed the two crewmen onto the yacht.

All was noise and bustle as they reached the deck and she had to raise her voice to be heard above the commotion of setting sail. “Would you please take me to Captain Storey immediately,” she asked the sailor who had shouldered the first trunk.

“We are to take you below ma’am and show you to your cabin,” he replied, pushing open a hatch door and leading the way down a narrow companionway into the belly of the vessel. “The Captain will join you as soon as we have cleared the harbor mouth as he is needed topside for the present.
”

The door to one of the cabins stood open and the sailors took the portmanteaux inside, indicating that Miss Chandler should follow. Once having installed her luggage, with a brief salute, they left to join the other members of the crew in their preparations.

Left alone, Jane removed her bonnet and placed it on a small table set in the center of the cabin. Loosening the strings of her cloak she shook the rain drops from it and hung it on one of the wooden pegs by the door. She could hear the captain barking out orders on the deck above and the sound of the sailors’ feet as they set about his bidding. The planking beneath her feet rose and fell with the swell of the tide as she surveyed the interior by the light cast from the lantern that swung precariously from the rafters.

The lantern cast flickering shadows over a curtained bunk set against the ribs of the vessel and a large leather chair at its side into which she gratefully sank. The journey had taken its toll and her bones ached with the constant jolting of the coach, but she felt a great relief at finally being aboard and on her way. She thought briefly of her benefactor, but try as she might, in her present state of weariness, she could recall little of their conversation. The first impression she had received of him was that he was a large, imposing man, one who possessed an undeniable air of authority and was used to his own way in all things. However, she could scarce deny his generosity and she felt guilty, remembering his look of sadness when she made her departure from
Stovely.

She heard the metallic clatter of the anchor being weighed and felt the boat leave its moorings. Realizing that they were heading out of the harbor and toward the open sea, she relaxed back into the chair, relieved that her journey had at last begun. Slowly, her eyelids started to fall and, unable to resist, she drifted involuntarily into sleep.

***

The waves beat against The Mistral as she headed out into the Channel, washing her decks with their white foam whilst the wind tore at her taut sails, driving her relentlessly forward into the open waters. Her bows dipped in a vigorous dance whilst those on board strained to keep their footing.

A sharp rap on the cabin door brought Miss Chandler abruptly awake and before she could give a reply, it was unceremoniously thrust open.

“
Your Grace,” she ejaculated, sitting bolt upright in surprise. Sleep still clouding her mind, she stared at the tall, slightly swaying figure before her. “How come you to be here?”

The duke, steadying himself against the frame, entered the cabin and closed the door behind him. “You must forgive me if I startled you, Miss Chandler,” he said, sitting in the chair by the table and bracing
himself against the movement of the craft. “It came to me yesterday after you had left Stovely, that this is a journey you should not be attempting on your own. You will have need of support, the support of someone in sympathy with your cause.”

So taken aback was she by his arrival that it took Jane a moment to reply. “I assure you I am quite capable of looking after myself, sir,” she said indignantly, subconsciously bridling at the assurance of his manner, his obvious confidence that she would welcome his presence.

“That may be so in the general run of things,” he snapped, taking up her resentful tone. “However on this occasion I think you will find that a lone female could fall prey to any manner of circumstances and I am not prepared to take the responsibility of being the one to have set you out on such a journey. Therefore, I have decided that you are in need of my protection.”

For the life of her, she could not understand why his presence irritated her so.
“I can promise you that you will not be held responsible for any actions of mine, sir,” she said with a great show of pique. “I am quite used to being my own mistress.”

“
A fact I do not doubt,” he countered sharply. He had not expected such forthright opposition and was surprised that she should be resentful of his presence. “However, on this occasion, madam, I think you have no option but to accept my assistance whether you wish it or not.”

“Not! Most definitely I do not!”

He rose, appearing at his most haughty. “Then that is a pity, Miss Chandler, for you most definitely have it. You must reconcile yourself to my presence, as there is no way that I will order this vessel to be put about. Now try to get some rest, we have a long and tiring journey ahead of us. I will send someone to call you when it is time for luncheon. Until then I hope you will reflect on the sense of my accompanying you and perhaps not present such a sour demeanor when next we meet.” With this, he strode from the cabin.

Left alone, Jane stared mulishly after him, her thoughts in confusion. “Of all the overbearing, insufferable men...” she cried to the empty room, not realizing that it was merely her taut nerves and his assured manner that rendered her unappreciative of his actions. Under other circumstances, she would have recognized his generosity and been grateful for it, but for the moment her overwhelming anxiety would not permit it and she dwelt on the arrogance of his assumption that she would welcome his presence.

Retiring immediately to his own cabin, the duke fought to control his irritation. He had not intended to start the journey on such a footing, in fact, he felt a great empathy for his companion,
but I will not be dictated to by a mere chit of a girl
, he thought. The very idea that she should attempt such a journey on her own had proved strangely disturbing and he felt a great deal of unrest at the dangers she would face. Throughout a sleepless night, thoughts of Stefan’s death and Harry’s plight had become entangled in his mind. He had felt a strong desire for activity and the need to prevent another youth from sharing his brother’s fate had driven him to take part in this expedition. The fact that it might prove to be a futile attempt made no difference, for an attempt must be made, there was no question about that. It had never entered his head that his presence would be in any way resented and he could still not understand Miss Chandler’s desire to travel alone on such a hazardous mission. Surely, his presence must be to her advantage, not otherwise. Nevertheless, he was sure that upon reflection she would come about and see the sense of the situation, indeed, be grateful for his taking a hand in her brother’s deliverance. Admitting to himself that perhaps, in this, he might find his own!

Some while later, after ordering a cold repast to be set in the salon, Robert sent the cabin boy with a message that Miss Chandler should join him for the meal and took a glass of port whilst awaiting her arrival. However, some minutes passed before the boy returned alone and informed him that she had refused to come to the door and had told him to go away.

Pushing past the boy to go to Miss Chandler’s door he snapped to no one in particular, “This is beyond the realm of the ridiculous. I will not brook this absurd manner. Whatever is wrong with the girl? I would expect at least some civility from her.” So saying he rapped firmly on her door but received no response, whereupon he rapped once more, his ill humor suffering in the process. To his surprise, he received a faint muffled reply, but being unable to decipher its meaning, he tried the handle to the door, which he found to be unlocked. Immediately, the movement of the craft made it swing wide to reveal Miss Chandler lying fully clothed on the bunk, her countenance deathly pale.

At sight of him, she groaned and turned away. “Be
so good as to leave me, sir,” she muttered pressing her handkerchief to her mouth, “I am somewhat indisposed.”

“
Indisposed, my foot!” he said advancing into the cabin and closing the door against the curious gaze of the cabin boy. He swiftly took in the situation and grinned without sympathy. “I do believe you’re seasick.”

“
Of course I am, your grace,” she muttered weakly, “and I must warn you that at any second I am going to be extremely unwell. Please leave me.”

“
Nonsense,” he chuckled, quickly looking around the cabin for a suitable receptacle. His eyes alighted on a washbowl, which he retrieved and going to the bunk, held it before her. “Have no fear, Miss Chandler, the feeling will soon pass. You will be ill for a short while but you will soon gain your sea legs. Now be a good girl and stop trying to push me away. I assure you, you are not the first person I have had to aid in this situation.”

“Have you no sensibility, sir?” she asked, reluctantly accepting his aid.

“None whatsoever,” he replied with considerable aplomb.

***

Later that evening, after replacing the cold compress on a now very weak companion’s brow, Robert produced a flask from his pocket, “I am going to bid you goodnight now, Miss Chandler—Jane, but before I go I want you to take a few sips of brandy.” He smiled slightly at her look of distaste. “Now don’t pull that face. Although it may not be to your liking, I can assure you its medicinal effects will far outweigh its objectionable taste.” So saying he raised her from the pillows and placing the flask to her lips, encouraging her to drink.

It said much for Jane’s resignation to the situation that she did as she was bid without recourse to any signs of rebellion. “Thank you, your grace,” she said smiling wanly as she lay back against the pillows, her face drained of all color.

“I think we have come far enough over the past few hours to dispense with titles,” he replied. “My name is Robert, just as I know yours is Jane; there is no need for formality between us. Indeed, it will make for a far better journey if we make some effort to at least be civil and comfortable in each other’s company.”

“
I make no promises, sir,” she said with quiet humor. “I have been used to being my own mistress for far too long, but I will try.”

“
Humph, I suppose that will have to do, for the present.” He replaced the flask in his pocket and rose from his seat at the side of the bunk. “Now sleep, I will expect you to join me in the salon for breakfast.”