Ship of Dreams (2 page)

Ah! That tall, dark-haired man. He had the aristocratic bearing of one who'd grown up with a sense of his own importance. At the same time, something in his handsome, patrician features told her he just might listen to a hard-luck case. He appeared to be alone at the moment, too, which would make this easier.

A glance back at the dock showed that two other police officers had joined the first, one of them now questioning an important-looking man with a top hat and walking stick, clearly a first class passenger. She had no time to lose.

Pasting a winning smile onto her lips, she moved toward the man she hoped would save her.

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Kenton Bradford, of the New York Bradfords, stood near the top of the gangway, irritation warring with impatience. Where the devil was Sharpe? They were supposed to have met an hour ago, before he boarded the
Sonora
. He had important business to discuss with the man, but now it looked as though they might miss each other altogether.

The riverboat bringing Bradford south from Sacramento yesterday had hit a snag in the river, necessitating repairs and delaying him by several hours. When he'd finally reached San Francisco late last night, he'd immediately sent a message to Mr. Sharpe explaining, and suggesting they meet at the
Sonora
before he sailed. But Sharpe had not yet appeared, and the ship was due to depart in a quarter of an hour.

Though he had done so only a minute or two earlier, Bradford pulled out his finely-chased gold watch and consulted it yet again before thrusting it back into his pocket. Sharpe had been the one to convince him to attempt establishment of a California branch of Bradford Shipping & Mercantile, and had promised to become an important investor. Without his support and influence, its success would be far from assured.

He had run across more than a few slick talking shysters since reaching California six months ago, men adept at parting the foolish from their money. Was Sharpe another such a one? He'd had nothing beyond a few letters from the man since meeting him in New York last year, when he'd so enthusiastically expounded upon the opportunities for established businesses expanding to California. Those opportunities still abounded, no doubt about that. But to convince local businesses to patronize his company over others would take some doing. Competition was fierce.

Already, Bradford Shipping had received pledges—and gold—from numerous merchants eager to take advantage of the lower shipping rates he offered. Not enough, however. If only Sharpe—Ah! Was that him? Tilting back his silk top hat, Kenton scanned the shifting, richly dressed throng on the promenade deck and caught another glimpse of the man. Yes, it was definitely Sharpe. He'd seen Bradford now, and angled toward him, laboriously making his way through the press of bodies.

Kenton stepped forward, raising a hand in greeting. "Sharpe! I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

"Bradford! Kenton Bradford. It's good to see you again. I only received your note this morning, about having been delayed on the way from Sacramento," explained the shrewd-eyed, sandy-haired young man, raising his voice to be heard above the general clamor. "It's been all of a year, hasn't it? How have you been?"

"Fine, fine," Kenton said quickly, impatient with this small talk. "We have only a few minutes, I fear, and I have a lot to tell you."

"A lot to tell, indeed," came a feminine voice from behind him. A slender hand took his arm, and he turned in surprise to see a flame-haired vision—a striking young woman he had never seen before in his life—extending her other hand to Mr. Sharpe.

"I'm so pleased to meet you at last, Mr. Sharpe," said the young lady. "I'm Della—Della Bradford. Kent's wife."

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CHAPTER 2

The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

—Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

For a moment, Kenton was too astonished to speak—then the girl smiled up at him, holding his eyes with her own remarkable gray-green ones. Even as he opened his mouth to deny her outrageous claim, he read the urgent plea in those eyes—and hesitated.

"Well that's just splendid! Splendid!" Sharpe exclaimed. "I take it this is a recent event?"

"Very recent," said Kenton dryly, still staring at the woman. She looked to be no more than eighteen or nineteen, and was becomingly—and expensively—dressed in a green frock that made the most of her unusual coloring. Feminine and lovely, she was not at all his idea of a typical thief or swindler.

The moment Sharpe left the ship, Kenton decided, he'd find out what sort of trouble she was in that could possibly prompt her to make such an preposterous statement, trusting a total stranger to support it.

Now she shot him a grateful glance before nodding brightly. "Yes, this is to be our honeymoon trip."

"Excellent! Most excellent! And you won't be the only newlyweds aboard, you know. Kenton, Mrs. Bradford, I'd like you to meet my friend and onetime business partner, Ansel Easton, and his new bride, Addie Easton."

A handsome couple stepped forward, the petite Mrs. Easton still in her voluminous white wedding gown. "Congratulations to you both," she exclaimed, taking the bogus Mrs. Bradford's hands in her own. "I'm sure you'll be as happy as we will. What fun that we can share our wedding trips!"

Della—if that were really her name—smiled back most convincingly. It occurred to Kenton that while she might not be an outlaw herself, she could quite possibly be a decoy for one.

"Easton here is one of the other investors I mentioned," Sharpe said then. "He has a lot of influence here in San Francisco, and can help you to establish your shipping business. I've told him a bit about it—and you. An excellent thing, isn't it, Easton, that Kenton is married now?"

Mr. Easton smiled and nodded, but Kenton chose his words carefully, while at the same time straining to hear what was passing between the two women. "I very much look forward to making your acquaintance, sir. Before we sail, though, I must have a moment with Mr. Sharpe. Nelson, I'd hoped to have time to tell you what I was able to accomplish in Sacramento, but—"

"You'll have all the time in the world," Sharpe assured him. "Did I forget to mention that I'll be taking ship with you? I've business in New York, and this will give me an opportunity to discuss other investments, as well as taking another look at Bradford Shipping."

Kenton abruptly exchanged one worry for another. Nelson Sharpe would be aboard for the entire voyage? Even after the introduction to the Eastons, he'd intended to explain this Della woman away as some kind of misunderstanding or joke. But Sharpe would know otherwise. Now his only course would be to expose the girl—something he felt oddly reluctant to do.

He glanced in her direction again, and saw that she was now chatting amiably with two other women, as well as Mrs. Easton. Worse and worse! Clearly, the longer he waited, the harder this would be.

"... in Sacramento," Sharpe was saying, "but I was thinking that a branch in San Francisco, either instead of or in addition to—"

"Yes, yes, but as you said, we'll have plenty of time now to discuss business plans," Kenton interrupted him. "I fear I must tell you—"

A shrill whistle cut across his words, signaling the final boarding of the
Sonora
. Near-pandemonium broke out, as those not sailing scrambled for the gangway, while those who had lingered ashore simultaneously tried to push their way aboard. Kenton was temporarily separated from Nelson Sharpe and the others, though he saw that the red-haired girl, Della, managed to remain with the small knot of women she'd just met.

Jostled and buffeted by the crowd, he finally managed to work his way back toward Sharpe, but saw that he was deep in conversation with a man he had not yet met. This would be awkward enough without witnesses, he realized. He veered toward the group of women. Since he hadn't denied her claim at once, the least he could do was warn the girl that he planned to do so now. Perhaps she would be able to devise another way to get out of whatever trouble pursued her.

"Isn't it amazing that we could all have been married so recently and not known of each other before this?" Addie Easton was saying as he drew close. The crowd on the deck had thinned somewhat, now that the majority of visitors had disembarked.

"Not so strange, in my case," said Della reasonably. "Kent and I were married in Sacramento two days ago, and were not engaged long. I'm not surprised it didn't make the San Francisco papers."

"Is your family in Sacramento, then?" asked another of the women, a pretty young blonde holding a caged canary, of all absurd things.

Kenton paused to hear Della's reply. "They were," she said. "Both of my parents are gone now, God rest them, and my sister recently married herself. She sailed for the Carolinas last month."

For a moment, he felt a twinge of pity for the lovely young woman, so alone in the world. Then he shook himself. This story was as likely to be a fabrication as the one she'd told about their marriage. Clearly, the girl was an accomplished liar. But sympathy was reflected on all of the faces surrounding her.

If he charged in now to deny their marriage and have her removed from the ship, he'd appear a complete villain. The women would tell their husbands, and he'd probably be ostracized for the remainder of the voyage. And many of those men might be in a position to help—or harm—his fledgling business interests in California. Kenton sighed.

Stepping forward, he greeted the women with as much geniality as he could manage. "Kenton Bradford, of the New York Bradfords," he said, by way of introduction. "We'll be shoving off in just a couple of minutes," he added, with a significant look at Della. How long did she plan to maintain this charade?

She glanced over his shoulder to scan both the deck and the wharf beyond. Though she schooled her expression remarkably well, he was able to recognize the sudden anxiety in her eyes, as she apparently saw whatever it was she feared. Casually, he glanced behind him, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"I can hardly wait!" she declared brightly. "This will be my very first sea voyage."

Two of the other women spoke up then, to assure her that she was in for quite a treat, unless they ran into a squall. Against that possibility, various remedies for seasickness were suggested.

Kenton frowned. This was becoming stickier and stickier. Della caught his eye then, and sent him a smile and the ghost of a wink, as though to reassure him. Though he still wanted to strangle the woman, oddly enough he did feel reassured. She seemed in control of the situation. No doubt she'd already planned for a way to extricate herself from her lie once it had served her purpose.

"There you are, Bradford," exclaimed Nelson Sharpe, coming up behind him just then. "I have a few more people for you to meet. These voyages are excellent opportunities for making and maintaining business alliances, you know—one reason I decided to take this one. I daresay some of the most important deals I've transacted over the years have occurred aboard some ship or other."

He lowered his voice then, and leaned closer. "I couldn't say it in front of Easton, but it's the greatest good fortune that you managed to get yourself married just now. Stroke of genius, in fact! After some of the tricks your brother has pulled, this is just the thing to convince the investors that you're settled and stable, not the sort to go haring off before they've made their money back."

A knot formed in Kenton's stomach, but he lifted his chin haughtily. "I had no idea word of my brother's exploits had spread so far—not that they have anything to do with me. The family no longer recognizes him."

Sharpe shrugged. "Doubt it'll make a difference now, anyway. Respectable married man and all that. Come and tell me what you've accomplished in Sacramento while I find those gentlemen I mentioned."

Ruthlessly suppressing his growing unease, Kenton complied. It would be some time, it appeared, before he could speak with this Della alone. He might as well make the most of that time.

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Della allowed herself a small sigh of relief when Mr. Bradford moved away to speak with his business crony. For a moment, she had been sure he meant to expose her, and at the worst possible time! That man with the walking stick, the one the police had been questioning earlier, had indeed boarded the ship. Until they were well away from San Francisco, she couldn't afford any kind of commotion that might draw his attention.

Letting the chatter of the other women flow over her, she followed Kenton Bradford with her eyes. He was even more handsome up close, with his thick, dark hair waving above compelling golden-brown eyes. The firm planes of his face, clean-shaven in defiance of fashion, as well as his very stance, exuded authority. But had she misjudged his character? She knew that Lady Luck had intervened on her behalf again, when that quick series of introductions had prevented him from denouncing her at the very first. He gave the impression of a man with little tolerance for falsehood.