So you decided not to abandon our plans today.”
Sam offered a lopsided grin as he helped Miss Bolen into the buggy he’d hired for the occasion. Whatever sudden malady she’d developed yesterday had apparently disappeared.
“I do apologize for the abrupt cancellation. I had an unexpected …”
“Visitor?” he supplied. “I saw Mrs. Gallier leaving. Did she say something to upset you?”
“I prefer not to discuss it,” she said as she smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles on her skirt with a gloved hand and avoided his gaze. “I have brought the answers to the questions you asked.”
She reached into her reticule and retrieved the documents he’d left with her. Then she offered a broad smile as she handed him a second stack of folded papers. “I took the liberty of asking a few questions of my own. I’m sure you’ll oblige.”
He laughed. “Of course,” he said as he tucked the documents away in his jacket.
“I am looking forward to meeting your father.”
“About that,” Sam said as he climbed up beside her and took up the reins. “Please understand my father is an old man who is not always well but is always truthful.” He paused. “Even when the truth is best left unsaid.”
Miss Bolen gave him a sideways look. “So he might say things to me that I will not wish to hear?”
“That is quite possible,” he said as the buggy lurched forward. “Which is why we will not be paying him a visit today.”
“Is he not in the mood to receive visitors?”
“My father has not been in the mood to receive visitors since the Yankees blockaded the river back in ’62.” Sam grinned. “But you will meet him. Eventually. However, I have another plan for today.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “I’m not sure I approve of a change in plans.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t ask for your approval, although should you decline, I will be glad to take you back to your father’s home.”
“Fine then. Do proceed.” Miss Bolen looked away then. “Where do you live, Mr. Austin?” she asked in an odd change of topic.
“I’ll show you soon,” he said as he brought the buggy to a halt. “It’s a short walk in that direction.”
A few minutes later, he had helped her down from the carriage and led her around to the shortest route to both their venue for today’s outing and his current home: the Vengeance.
“I don’t understand,” she said as she rounded the corner and saw that they were now on the docks. “Why are you taking me here?”
“In an interesting coincidence, I had already planned to bring you here as an invited guest to the Vengeance. However, since you’ve asked where I live, it is also the Vengeance, at least most of the time.”
She glanced around and then back at him. “You live here? On this?”
“I’ve sailed in worse,” he said as he nodded toward his current vessel. “She’s been good enough to get me to the Orient and back twice, and she’ll do it again soon. So, with those credentials, I figure she’s good enough for me to find a comfortable bunk here in port.”
“But your father and your nice brother Joseph …” She hesitated. “Do they …”
“Live here with me?” Sam laughed. “No, although my father would probably enjoy it much more than his current residence.”
“And Joseph?”
Sam paused to take her by the elbow and help her aboard. “My nice brother Joseph would probably like it better here than living with my father, but unfortunately, neither of them have been invited to join me here.” He spied his boatswain moving toward them across the deck and motioned for him to wait. “Joe and our father share a house near Tulane. It suits them better than my father is willing to admit.”
“But you?”
“Suffice it to say it does not suit me at all.”
The Bolen woman gave him an appraising look.
“I know this is a dangerous question, but what are you thinking, Miss Bolen?” he asked as she continued to study him.
With a tilt of her head, she met his gaze. “I am trying to decide exactly what does suit you.”
“Oh, so you believe you can decide that, do you?”
She paused as if considering his question and then smiled sweetly. “Given time, perhaps. But I have decided one thing: You are a puzzle, Mr. Austin, and deliberately so. First you’re a pirate, then a gentleman. Now you’re a captain aboard his Orient-bound vessel.”
“And you’re looking to solve that puzzle, are you?”
“In three weeks?” She shook her head. “Hardly. Not without your cooperation, which I am not foolish enough to believe you’ll allow me.”
“And that I am not foolish enough to allow.” He nodded toward the center of the vessel. “So instead I will offer a tour. Welcome aboard, Miss Bolen.”
Around them deckhands were busy prepping the vessel for its next voyage, a trip to the Orient that would take him away from New Orleans for an extended period. Given the current trouble and the potential results from whatever happened three weeks from now, being at sea once again for a year or more had sounded like a good idea.
However, as he slanted a look down at his companion and watched her take in everything around her, he felt an odd surge of protectiveness that did not bode well for a long absence. Perhaps he would have Joe look in on her while he was away.
The question that remained was would Joe be looking in on a penniless woman or Sam’s wife?
Giving the men working on the sails a wide berth, Miss Bolen stayed close to his side. One of the deckhands spied him and called out a warning that the captain was aboard.
Sam guided his guest to the spot where the wheel awaited and settled her on a crate nearby. “Stay put and try not to poke anyone with a stick,” he said with a wink. “I’ll be back as soon as I see to a few things.”
“That’s not funny,” she called after him, though he couldn’t help but notice she spoke those words with laughter in her voice.
May watched him go and did not care if any of the rough characters around her knew it. Samuel Austin III was certainly an enigma. With his long legs he crossed the deck easily, leaving the crewman to hurry to keep up.
Today he was a curious mix of pirate and gentleman. As he barked orders to the laborers on deck and conferred with several men who appeared to hold a higher office than deckhand, he was definitely a man in command of his surroundings. Yet, when he sat in her father’s parlor, he’d seemed just as comfortable.
Of the two places, he belonged here. May hardly knew this man, but it was easy to see this was where he was meant to be.
A pang of jealousy hit her. She’d never felt such a kinship as to know she belonged somewhere. True, she was quite comfortable in New York, but did she belong there?
She’d never had a deep certainty that she did.
The man in question spied her watching him and held her gaze across the distance between them. Though she thought to offer a smile, May decided to look away instead. When she braved another look, he was still watching. This time she allowed a grin, and he did the same before hoisting a coil of rope on his broad shoulder and walking away.
Indeed Mr. Austin was a puzzle. Oh, but he was going to be an interesting puzzle to solve in the brief time they had together, she decided as she swiveled on the crate to get a better look at her surroundings.
In contrast to the hurry and chaos on the Canal Street docks, the Mississippi River flowed slowly downriver, lapping against the sides of the vessels with hardly a sound. Today the sun shone, but despite the brightness of the morning, the river remained deep brown.
A few vessels slid by, each with sails trimmed and crew members hurrying about. What would it be like confined to a vessel of this size for months on end? It would certainly be nothing like her life back in New York.
How was Mama faring there? The question came to mind as she spied an older woman on a passenger vessel as it sailed by. The gray-haired matron lifted a gloved hand to wave, and May returned the gesture. For all her faults, Mama was good company.
And right now she ached for good company.
After a few minutes, Mr. Austin returned to her side. “Feeling unwell?”
“No,” she said as she turned back toward the wheel, where he had moved. “Just thinking.”
“Ah, well, we’ve had a slight change in plans. What would you say to spending a few hours sailing?” He held up his hands as if to delay her response. “Two or three hours at the most, I promise, and I’ve already sent over to Tujague’s Restaurant for box lunches for the two of us, but I am willing to deliver you and your lunch back to your father’s home before I sail if that is your preference.”
May hesitated only a moment. Though she had her trepidations as to whether the Vengeance was seaworthy, apparently Mr. Austin did not, or he’d not put himself in danger. Or at least she comforted herself with that thought as she said, “It sounds lovely.”
“I don’t know if anyone has called any voyage this ship has taken lovely, but I’m glad you’ve decided to stay.”
Two hours later, with the city of New Orleans long behind them, she and Mr. Austin had enjoyed the last bites of their box lunches at a table made from wooden crates. Thus far their discussion had consisted of Mr. Austin showing her around the vessel and then pointing out landmarks along the river as they sailed past.
Now they had turned and were once again headed upriver to New Orleans. A companionable silence had fallen between them. May watched as the pillars of one massive riverside plantation home gave way to the spires and gardens of the next.
“Must be a lovely place to live,” she mused. “Though I warrant there are enough mosquitoes and heat down here to ruin such a beautiful place.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “If you’re raised here, you barely notice the heat and mosquitoes.”
May laughed. “I may not have been raised here, but I was born here and stayed long enough to know you are sadly mistaken.”
Mr. Austin’s expression went pensive. “Other than your admiration for the River Road plantation homes, you don’t like Louisiana much, do you?”
“That’s not true,” she protested. “I like Tujague’s. And you’re not as awful as I originally thought.”
“Nor are you,” he said with a decidedly wicked grin. As he leaned back and stretched out his long legs. “As long as we are speaking of things we like, tell me about these three men who are contenders for your hand. Do you like them?”
Unprepared for the question, she straightened her spine and pretended to consider her answer. In truth, she had no answer, at least no good one. When a question is not one that should have been posed, a lady will respond with an answer that should have been given.
“They are likable men,” she said. “Each of them.”
“Likable men,” Mr. Austin echoed. “So you are willing to spend the rest of your life married to a likable man?”
“Given the alternative, yes.”
“The alternative being that you lose your father’s fortune?”
“Yes, although it does sound rather predatory when you put it that way.” She paused. “Just as you have your father to care for, so I have my mother. Given the sacrifices she has made for me during her life, I find it difficult not to make a similar sacrifice to bring her comfort in her final years.”
“I see.” Mr. Austin looked away and then slowly returned his gaze to her. “Miss Bolen,” he said slowly, “these men, are they able to provide for you and your mother?”
“Yes, of course,” she said.
“You’re certain? And I should clarify that I am asking if any of these gentlemen have enough personal wealth to …” His voice faded, and his expression showed he was having difficulty completing the sentence.
“You’re wondering if any of my potential grooms are rich enough to keep Mama and me comfortable in our current lifestyle?” At his nod, she continued. “Then the answer is yes.”
“Even if theirs was the only income?”
May’s breath caught. “But it will not be. Not if I marry one of them.” When Mr. Austin did not immediately reply, she tried again. “I was led to understand I must marry to keep my father’s money. Are you saying that even if I marry one of these men, I could lose it?”
Sam was well and truly stuck for an answer. If he told her the truth, he would be betraying a confidence and breaking the rules. If he did not tell her, he was allowing Miss Bolen to believe she could solve her problem with a marriage that would only increase her troubles.
“I am merely asking questions.” He retrieved the two sets of papers from his pocket. “Speaking of questions, let’s see what we have here. You did take particular care to answer these, didn’t you?”
“Oh, most certainly,” she said, apparently accepting the diversion in their conversation. “You can see by the answers that I put deep thought into each of them, especially question seven.”
“Question seven,” he echoed as he turned the page. “Here it is. Do you prefer beignets or calas? And you said—”
“Neither since I cannot get either of these in New York City,” she supplied.
“Oh, Miss Bolen, you are not playing fair.” He returned his attention to the page to scan the answers she’d given then looked back up at her. “Every response in some way relates back to New York City. Look at question fourteen. Where do you prefer to eat steak?”
“And my response was Delmonico’s.”
He shook his head though he had to laugh. “You did not take this seriously at all. So just expect that I will do the same when I attempt to respond to yours.”
“Why wait?” she said as she snatched the second set of papers from his hand. “We’ve got time before we dock. Why not answer mine now?”
“Fair enough,” he said as he tucked her answers into his pocket and prepared to be quizzed.
“You are marooned on a desert island. What one thing will you bring with you?” She lifted her gaze from the page and offered an expectant look. “Do take your time in answering.”
“Don’t have to take my time,” he said. “I would bring a boat with me so I could leave that island anytime I wanted. Next question, please.”
Miss Bolen looked as if she might protest then shrugged. “All right. Well, if you were to somehow be granted three wishes, what three things would you wish for?”
“I only need one wish, and that would be for unlimited wishes.” He winked. “However, I am a generous man, so I would be happy to give you the other two.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You are not taking these seriously.”
He shrugged. “Just because you do not like my answers, that does not mean I am not being serious. Ask another.”
“All right,” she said as she returned her attention to the page. “Tell the truth or break the rules?”
Sam’s heart thudded against his chest. “I, um, that is …”
“It is a simple question, Mr. Austin. Tell the truth or break the rules?”
“It is never that simple,” he snapped as he stood and walked away.
The Bolen woman caught up to him as he reached the rail. He’d not been sure whether she was one of those persistent women, but now he had his answer.
She touched his sleeve. When he looked down at her, she said, “It is that simple.”
“If it’s that simple, then you answer the question, Miss Bolen. Which would you choose?”
To her credit, May Bolen seemed to give considerable thought to the question. Finally she nodded. “I do concede perhaps this is not as simple as I claimed.” She swung her gaze up to meet his. “Do you believe in God, Mr. Austin?”
“Of course I do,” he managed. “Are we answering questions with questions now?”
“You just did,” she said with a grin. “But bear with me. When I have trouble with an answer, I ask myself what is right biblically. What would the Lord say if I asked Him?”
“And?”
“And I think He would say that the truth would set you free.” She paused to grip the rails, her attention now focused on the water lapping against the ship.
“He did say that, actually,” Sam admitted.
“So what is your answer?”
He looked down at her and tried to voice the words he wanted to say. “My answer is I will have to think about my answer.”
“I see,” she responded as she thrust the paper back in his direction. “Then perhaps you should think about the other answers, too, and we can discuss them another time.”
He accepted the papers and returned them to his pocket. “You’re disappointed,” he said.
“No, but I reserve the right to be disappointed another time,” she said. “For now I’m thinking you’re buying time in order to wrestle with your conscience some more. I’m just curious as to what the issue is you will be wrestling over.”
“Ah, I see,” he said gently. “You know I cannot tell you that. It would break the rules.”
She seemed to search his face for a moment and then began to giggle. He joined her laughter though he knew there would be a time very soon when she would not want to laugh with him.
And that would be the day he told her the truth.
“I very much am enjoying sailing with you, Mr. Austin. I have vague recollections of being aboard a vessel like this one. Perhaps when I was a child.”
“My father had me aboard a ship before I could walk. You could say I grew up with first the river and then the ocean beneath me.” His attention drifted past her to a spot upriver. “Had our fathers not parted ways, you and I might have been raised very much the same. As it is, I don’t think any two people could be more different.”
“I disagree,” she said.
“Well, of course you would,” he responded. “And in disagreeing, you have proved my point. What do you do in New York, Miss Bolen?”
She shook her head. “Are you trying to change the subject, Mr. Austin?”
“I am not trying,” he said. “I have succeeded. So what fills your days?”
“I don’t know. The usual things, I suppose. Charity events, balls, visiting, and of course, caring for my mother. What about you? What fills your days?”
“This,” he said as he gestured around him. “We sail in a few weeks. I’ll have much to do to get ready, and then we will all stay busy making sure we arrive safely to all the ports of call on our itinerary.”
“I see,” she said. Dare he assume she looked disappointed that he might be leaving soon? “And how long will you be gone?”
“Twelve, maybe eighteen months.”
“But that’s a whole year. Or longer.”
“Very good, Miss Bolen. It is.”
“But why so long?” Her eyes widened. “It doesn’t take nearly as long to sail to Europe. Are you taking the long way?”
He chuckled. “No, but we are making a number of stops. In each port we will stay for however long we need and then move on. Eventually we will return.” He paused. “Why? Will you miss me?”
“I would say I don’t even know you, but I assume you’ll be remedying that once you answer those questions.” She shook her head. “Still, how can you bear it?”
“Bear what?”
“Bear being away from those you love for so long?”
Sam shrugged. “If I’m lucky, there are only two people who will miss me, and that’s my brother and my father. However, I think they’ll both manage just fine. And so will I.”
Her brow furrowed. “You won’t leave until everything has been settled with the terms of the will, will you? It is imperative that you stay and see this through.”
“I’ll stay just long enough to see you’re situated,” he said as a thought occurred. A solution to the worry in his gut at turning this soon-to-be penniless woman and her elderly mother over to a husband with sole control of the purse strings. “Miss Bolen, I have a question, and it is not on the list I gave you.”
“Go ahead and ask,” she said, “but understand I may not answer.” Her pretty lips lifted in a smile. “Or I may find other questions to ask you. So ask at your peril.”
“Duly noted.” Sam turned to face her. “Would you consider marriage to a man who had no intentions of living with you if it meant that you and your mother would gain permanent access to your father’s fortune with no possibility of it being taken away again?”
Without pausing even for a second, May Bolen looked him in the eye and said, “Absolutely. In fact, it would be my preference.”
“Then in that case, Miss Bolen,” he said as he moved closer. “Would you marry me?”