Everyone raise your glass.” William waited for all around the table to comply. Then he said, “Congratulations to the newest post captain on Jamaica station, Ned Cochrane.”
“Hear, hear!”
“Congratulations, Ned.”
“Well done.”
Charlotte took a sip of wine but put the glass down almost immediately. Three weeks. That was all. Three weeks for the banns to be read, the preparations to be made, and James’s court-martial to be finished with and James released so that Charlotte and Ned could have their official wedding ceremony and then have four or five glorious weeks alone together aboard Audacious as they sailed back to England. Or, as alone as they could be on a ship with more than six hundred others aboard.
In an effort to keep Charlotte busy, Julia had been trying to teach her how to run a household. But Julia’s household included everyone who lived and worked at Tierra Dulce, which meant more ledgers and inventories and keys than Charlotte could keep up with. And there were days when all she wanted was to be left on her own, to read a book or to write a letter, but she was never alone. Julia wanted Charlotte by her side at all times.
Here it was, the seventh day of November, and yet still no firm date for the wedding ceremony had been set. Which meant that even though Ned and William were staying at Tierra Dulce tonight before heading back to Fort Charles in the morning, Charlotte and Ned had to sleep in separate bedchambers, again, as they had every other time he and William had traveled out to the plantation.
She’d grown so frustrated with the entire ordeal that she was making herself ill. Being awakened in the middle of the night several times a week by Julia’s screams was probably not helpful, either, though the nightmares did not seem to be doing her sister-in-law any harm. And they were happening less often—and never on the nights when William was here.
She and Ned should elope—oh, wait. They were already married. Had already lived together as man and wife, albeit only for two nights before Audacious docked in Kingston.
“Any news of James’s hearing?”
Every time William came home, Julia asked the same question. And every time, William gave the same answer.
“Until the new admiral arrives, we do not have enough officers of higher rank than James to convene a court.”
And then the next question.
“Any news of the admiral’s arrival?”
But now, tonight at dinner, William said, “Scouts report that a first-rate ship of the line was spotted docking in Barbados two days ago bearing a flag and pennant of a Vice Admiral of the Blue.”
Charlotte’s heart leaped. As soon as the admiral arrived they could convene James’s court-martial. He could be cleared of the charges against him and returned to duty—and in the meantime come to Tierra Dulce for her wedding—before getting his new ship. It took about a week to sail from Barbados to Jamaica. The admiral could be here by Saturday. They could convene James’s hearing Monday…by this time next week, she could be preparing to be a bride. Again.
She glanced across the table at Ned. He winked at her.
Soon, my love.
After supper Charlotte, Julia, and Jerusha retired to the small parlor while William, Ned, Michael, and Jeremiah discussed the latest developments.
Tonight the separation did not last long. Ned stepped into the room. “Charlotte, would you do me the honor of a stroll about the porches?”
Fear twitched in the back of Charlotte’s mind. Ned must have sensed it. “It is light yet. We will come in before it grows dark.”
She put her embroidery aside, rose, and took his arm.
From the back of the house they had a spectacular view of the sunset. Just under a mile away, beyond the cane fields, the lagoon looked like an enormous sparkling ruby reflecting the red sky.
Ned pulled her in his arms and kissed her. She liked this kind of stroll around the porches. So long as it didn’t end with Ned’s being knocked unconscious and her being abducted by a pirate, be he good or not.
“How soon do you think we can plan the wedding and then leave for England?” She rested her hands on his chest and her cheek against her hands, looking out at the sunset, wrapped in her husband’s arms.
“Once William has confirmation the ship is carrying our admiral, he will dispatch messages to the other commodores with the date the admiral sets for the court-martial.”
“When will that be?”
“It is at the admiral’s discretion.”
“Can William encourage him to make his discretion next week?”
Ned’s chuckle rumbled under her hands and cheek. “I am eager to have the matter settled as well, but we must have patience.”
Charlotte pushed back so she could look up into his eyes. “You know I have no patience.”
He pressed his hand to the back of her head until she rested it on his chest again and then settled his chin atop her head. “I know.” He held her silently for a while. “I have other news.”
“This is a special day. First your promotion confirmed, then news the admiral is coming, and now even more news. I might die of excitement.”
He tightened his squeeze until she laughed. “I’m sorry. What is your news?”
“The final determination of our prize money was made today.”
“Will you get your share at a post captain’s rank or a lieutenant’s?”
“I was only an acting captain, still rated a lieutenant, during the action, so I will draw a lieutenant’s share.”
“That is not fair. You were a captain. You should—”
He squeezed her again. “Will you let me continue, please?”
She heaved a sigh but smiled and caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth. She loved teasing him.
“Are you listening?”
“You wanted me to stop talking, so I stopped talking.” She started to push back from him, but he held her head down.
“Can you take nothing seriously?”
“Other than wanting our wedding to happen soon?”
He sighed.
“I’m listening.”
“With the prize money from the payout on Sister Elizabeth and her cargo, as well as the bounty on Sister Mary and on Shaw, I have made just over ten thousand pounds.”
Charlotte did push back this time, studying his face carefully to see if he teased her. But pride, serious and genuine, beamed from his eyes and smile. “Ned, we’re rich! With my ten thousand and your ten thousand…we have more than we’ll ever need.” She pulled his head down to reward him with another kiss.
Ned perched on the edge of the porch railing, holding Charlotte’s hands in his. “Commodore Ransome and I talked about it on the way here. We need a home, Charlotte. We need to decide where our home is going to be.”
“Home? Why, home is with Mama in Gateacre. We’ll visit while we’re in England.”
He gave her his indulgent smile. “I mean a house for us, you and me and our family someday.”
“Oh.” Yes, that was the reason she and Ned were having to stay apart until they could have a real wedding ceremony. So that they could have a house of their own in which to raise children. Someday. She hoped not right away. She’d been separated from him so long that she wanted to have time, years perhaps, to spend with him before children interrupted them.
“We need to start thinking about where we want our home to be. I have been attached to William’s command here at Fort Charles, which means we could be here for years. But if the war ends with America, as it may soon, there could be changes in the western fleet—reassignments or retirements of entire divisions. We do not need to decide right away, but we need to ask ourselves if we want to live here in Jamaica or in England.”
She leaned toward him, craning her head back as she got closer. “I do not care where we live, so long as we can be together.”
Julia ignored the stitch in her side as she hurried back to the main house. “Charlotte! Michael! News from Kingston!”
Her sister-in-law and brother both came out of the study.
Charlotte bounced on her toes. “Is it about James?”
“Yes. The admiral arrived yesterday. William is bringing him and his wife here tonight so we can meet them. Yes, Charlotte, Ned is coming also. James’s hearing has been scheduled for Thursday.” Though it had only been a week since William and Ned’s last visit, Julia’s anticipation to see her husband again almost matched Charlotte’s excitement.
She pulled another letter from her pocket. “And this came for you, Michael.” She only had to see her brother’s smile to know the letter came from Serena.
“I must go speak with Cook about supper tonight.” Julia started off toward the kitchen. “With the admiral and his wife here, it will be much more formal than family dinner, so please dress appropriately.”
After setting Cook in a tizzy, though assuring her that the fillet of beef she already had roasting would be perfectly fine for a Vice Admiral of the Blue, Julia met with Jerusha to discuss the table setting.
“Jeremiah and I will take supper in the kitchen tonight, Miss Julia.” Jerusha unlocked the silver cabinet and began pulling out trays to polish before their guest arrived.
“No, you will have dinner with the family, just like you do every night.”
“It might reflect badly on the commodore for the admiral to see us at his dinner table.”
“It will reflect badly on the admiral and his wife if either of them has a problem with whom I invite to sit at my table. You will attend us for dinner tonight, Jerusha. If you don’t, I’ll…I will terminate your employment at Tierra Dulce.” She set a fist to her hip and tried to look stern.
“If you think you can make me leave Tierra Dulce by terminating my employment, you don’t know me very well.” Jerusha bent and pulled out more silver service.
Julia laughed. “I know.” She hugged the woman who had been more than a housekeeper, more than a friend for twenty years. “And that’s why I love you so much.”
Jerusha shooed her away, but not before Julia caught a hint of extra moisture in her brown eyes. “The commodore is going to be here in less than two hours. You’d best go get ready.”
Julia pulled a few maids away from their normal duties to take over polishing the silver from Jerusha so that she could get ready also. She sent another to freshen one of the vacant bedrooms for the admiral and his wife to stay in tonight.
She wished she’d had more time to prepare. She and Cook would have planned a special meal, a special dessert. She could have invited some of her neighbors—the ones she would especially want the admiral’s wife to know.
But perhaps it was best to introduce them to the intimate family circle first. Let them settle in. Later, she could plan a welcoming reception for them when they could come and stay a few days.
She stood at the wardrobe looking through her gowns for too long. Each one held such memories. The gold and bronze dress she’d worn to the dinner party at Witherington House and again to the dinner at which she’d met William’s officers for the first time. The green gown she’d worn to the concert when Sir Drake Pembroke’s cologne had given her a migraine—she had not worn it since that night. The ivory silk with the blue velvet overtunic she’d worn the night she asked William to marry her. Her wedding dress, a plain lavender gown with an overdress of ivory lace from Susan Yates’s mother’s wedding dress. The periwinkle gown with the heavy gold brocading at neck, sleeves, waist, and hem she’d worn to Charlotte’s debut ball. Every gown reminding her of William.
She pulled out the ivory and blue dress, running her hands over the luxurious fabrics. The same colors as William’s waistcoat and uniform coat, but smooth, cool, and fluid rather than rough, hot, and stiff.
Seated at the vanity, she started pulling the pins from her hair.
“Do you want me to do it again, ma’am?” her maid asked.
“No, I will be leaving it down tonight. My husband prefers it that way.” Opening the lacquer box on the table before her, she withdrew two combs with mother-of-pearl inlay and used them to secure her hair back from her face, though a few wispy curls made their way free. She smiled. William liked to let those tiny strands wrap around his fingers as he pushed them back from her cheeks.
Jerusha knocked and entered. “Carriage coming up the drive, Miss Julia.”
“You look lovely.”
Jerusha smoothed her hand over the burgundy silk dress Julia had brought back from England for her. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin it.”
“Mmm. Just like you ruin all of your garments.” She hooked her arm through Jerusha’s. “Come, help me greet our guests.”
The housekeeper protested, but Julia did not listen, pulling Jerusha out onto the front porch with her just in time to see the carriage pull up into the circle drive. Julia smiled at William, Ned, and then frowned.
“They made the admiral and his wife ride facing backwards.” What must they think of William’s manners? The guests of honor were always given the forward facing seat.
The gold braid along the brim of the admiral’s hat sparkled in the late afternoon sun. Though the side points of the modified version of an old tricorn swished from side to side as he looked around, he never turned his head far enough so that Julia could see his face. Beside him sat a woman wearing a deep-brimmed bonnet, a veil fluttering from its edges.
The carriage stopped and Ned climbed down first, followed by William. Julia caught herself from calling out the instruction that they were supposed to let their guests descend first.
William smiled up at them as he climbed down from the carriage to the ground at the bottom of the porch steps.
“Mrs. Goodland, Mrs. Ransome. May I have the honor of introducing you to the new admiral of Jamaica station?”
The man climbed down, his head lowered so the hat hid his face. Julia ducked her head, trying to see him. And then he looked up.
She gasped. “Papa?”
His craggy face broke into a grin, and he took the steps two at a time and swept her up into his arms. “Oh, my bonny girl.”
“Papa, it’s really you! You’re here, in Jamaica.”
He set her down and tweaked her chin. “You act as though you haven’t seen me in years. It has only been about three months, by my calculation.”
“Oh, Papa. What a three months, though.”
He caressed her cheek. “So William has told me. We shall have time to speak of everything, but not now. Not tonight.” He turned to Jerusha. “Mrs. Goodland, a delight to see you again.”
“And you, Sir Edward. What a welcome sight you are. I’ll go in and make some refreshments ready.”
Charlotte came out as Jerusha went in. Her eyes widened at the sight of Julia’s father, and after a startled glance at Julia she dropped into a deep curtsey. “Welcome home, Sir Edward.”
“Miss Ransome”—he cast a glance over his shoulder at Ned before continuing—“or should I call you Mrs. Cochrane? I am not certain.”
She sighed. “I am not certain myself anymore. Everyone around here calls me Miss Charlotte as we don’t know what my proper name is.”
At the bottom of the steps, Ned’s face went from smiling to warning in an instant, but only Julia saw it.
“Come, Julia, Miss Charlotte, there is someone I want you to meet.”
Julia’s heart suddenly stuttered and then started again with an irregular beat. William’s note had said he was bringing the admiral and his wife. She swallowed hard. The memories of Mama were still vivid in this house even more than eighteen months after her death.
Admiral Witherington reached up to help down the veil-shrouded lady. “Julia, Miss Charlotte, I have the great honor of introducing you to my wife, Lady Witherington.”
The woman reached up and swept her creamy veil back.
Charlotte grabbed Julia’s arm with painful intensity. “Mama?”
The woman removed the bonnet, revealing without a doubt that she was indeed Charlotte and William’s mother. She opened her arms and her daughter ran to her, sobbing, apologizing, and expressing her astonishment at seeing her in Jamaica.
Julia’s head buzzed with questions. She looked up into her father’s green eyes and found she could not ask one.
Behind them Charlotte’s excited voice began detailing her experiences since the moment she sneaked out of Susan and Collin Yates’s townhouse the day before Audacious and Alexandra set sail from Portsmouth.
Sir Edward took Julia’s hand and tucked it under his elbow, leading her to the porch steps. “We shall tell all at supper.” He stopped halfway up the steps and pinned her with a worried gaze. “You…you aren’t angry with me for remarrying, are you?”
“Papa, I—” Words jumbled in her throat. “Mrs. Ransome?”
He ran his knuckles along her jaw. “That is you now, my dear.”
Charlotte’s voice stopped suddenly. Julia looked down to see why and saw Charlotte staring, dismayed, up at the porch. Julia turned and looked up. And her stomach lurched.
Her father stiffened. Michael froze.
Julia looked at William, who shook his head at her.
“M-Michael?” Sir Edward stepped back and would have fallen down the steps had not Julia steadied him.
Michael’s confused gaze sought Julia’s.
“Papa is the new admiral of Jamaica station, Michael. He’s come home—and he’s remarried.” She prayed her brother and father could reconcile, like the father and prodigal son in the book of Luke. She had read the story so many times since Michael returned to her life that she almost had it memorized.
Michael nodded, his expression hardening. “Then I suppose it is good that I will be leaving for Philadelphia just as soon as possible.”