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BRIA FOLLOWED MR. BALDY to the captain’s cabin, trying to convince herself to be optimistic. What motives could the man have for requesting an audience? Perhaps he wanted to converse in French. Perhaps he wanted her to thank him for the soap and the clothes for Johnny. She’d sewn all day and her fingertips were rough, but the boy now had trousers and a shirt with a bit of growing room.
Regardless of soap or clothes or any comfort the captain might provide, Bria was bereft with worry. The only thing that had kept her sane throughout the endless days was Johnny. And when she wasn’t helping the boy, Drake consumed her every thought. And by God, she would do anything to be in his arms again.
There was no escape from the hold. Even if she could overpower Mr. Baldy, she’d fall into the hands of abhorrent sailors, most of whom looked at her as if she were a prostitute, waiting for their chance to spirit her into the shadows and have their way with her. At sea in the middle of the ocean, she couldn’t run, hide or beg for mercy.
Why must her life always be one battle after another? She’d been lost and alone after the death of the LeClairs. In Paris, with nowhere to go, she thought she’d hit the lowest of lows. But she’d been wrong. The voyage to Australia took three months, and it had only begun. She shuddered. What if something happened to the captain and she no longer had his protection? Things might grow worse—oh so very much worse.
If only Bria could convince the captain to turn the ship around and head back to England. But that was as likely as the Duke of Beaufort embracing her as his long-lost granddaughter.
Mr. Baldy opened the door at the end of the corridor. “Her Ladyship...ah, Miss LeClair, sir.”
“Ah, yes. Show her in.”
Bria stepped inside cautiously. The captain of a convict ship did very well for himself. Her gaze was first drawn to the arcing row of windows overlooking the ship’s stern, each one framed with red velvet curtains. The cabin was paneled in teakwood with a small library, a berth, an elegant writing table and chair, and in the center of the room stood an ornate dining table. That it was set for two didn’t escape Bria’s notice.
She startled when the door shut behind her.
“How has the voyage been thus far? Has Mr. Baldy been treating you fairly?” asked Captain Sands with a wry smile, as if he knew conditions below decks were deplorable yet expected her to offer a respectful reply.
Not about to mince words, Bria stood proudly as if she weren’t still wearing the costume of the Sylph, covered only by her muddied cloak. “Mr. Baldy is a vile scourge.”
“I’ll admit it isn’t easy recruiting sailors to man a convict ship heading for Australia. Unfortunately, the crown doesn’t see fit to offer wages high enough to entice the cream of the crop.”
“Clearly not.”
Standing not much taller than she, Sands gestured toward the table with stout, pudgy fingers. “Will you sit? Cook has prepared a fine meal for us.”
“A fine meal? I should like to take a parcel below for Johnny. He needs sustenance more than I.”
The captain held the chair. “You’ve grown fond of the boy, have you?”
“He’s a lost child.” Before sitting, Bria glanced toward the door. Nothing felt right about being in the captain’s cabin with the table set for two. Though, only four months ago she’d done the same in Ravenscar’s town house and that hadn’t turned out badly. Perhaps if she remained vigilant, she might win the captain’s favor. “Any boy Johnny’s age should be attending lessons and flying kites, not fearing for his life in the bowels of a convict ship.”
“You’re quite opinionated, are you not?”
“A woman in my position must be forthright.” She reached for the serviette, unfolded it and placed it in her lap. “Please allow me to share my meal with the child.”
“I suppose there’s no reason you couldn’t slip him a few morsels. If...” Giving her a licentious glance, the captain’s winged eyebrows shot up. He wrapped his thick and hairy fingers around a squat bottle of wine and poured, first for Bria then for himself.
Her stomach roiled as she picked up her glass and sipped, trying not to imagine the captain’s vile conditions.
Sands followed suit. “It’s not customary for me to invite convicts to my cabin let alone to dine.”
“But I haven’t been convicted of anything.”
The captain swirled the liquid in his glass. “Your paperwork is in order, and it claims you are a thief.”
“I stole nothing.”
“Oddly, I believe you.”
“Oh?” Could she hope? “What drew you to your conclusion?”
“Firstly, Mr. Gibbs’ admission that you had no trial made me suspicious. Your situation stinks of underhandedness. And then there was your reaction when he said you were accused of stealing.”
“I see.” Is this why she’d been put in a solitary cell with Johnny and not in the hold? By the way the captain’s beady eyes shifted, the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his tongue repeatedly licked his bottom lip, no matter how much she wanted to believe a captain of a convict ship might be her salvation, Bria questioned his benevolence.
“Many prisoners profess their innocence, but you clearly had no idea the extent of the charges laid upon you. Furthermore, Gibbs looked the guilty party as he slithered off my ship.”
“If you deduced all that, why did you not send me ashore? You could have handed me over to the magistrate and allowed me to plead my case.” And try to escape. Hasten back to Drake’s side—sit at his bedside and tend his every need.
Bria reached for a slice of bread and picked up a knife. Rather than helping herself to the butter, she closed her eyes and pictured those fleeting moments for the thousandth time. Laying in the dirt, his eyes had been closed. When the LeClairs had died, their eyes were open, haunting and staring at nothing. As she looked toward the windows, her heart leaped. Heaven help her, Drake was alive. She felt it in her very bones.
Oh, God please let it be so.
“You seem contemplative.”
She blinked and set to buttering the bread. “Just thinking about the events that brought me to this end.”
The man rested his hand on her wrist. “I’ve been wondering about that myself. How does a ballerina from Paris, playing the starring role at one of London’s grandest theaters end up being accused of stealing a necklace from an English duke whom she professes to be her grandfather?”
Trying not to cringe, Bria snapped her arm away. “When you put it that way, it does seem a bit convoluted.”
A sailor entered with a tray. After weeks of eating broth and bread, the scent made her salivate. He presented her with a pair of tongs. “Chicken and cabbage, miss?”
She gave the captain a wary glance. No, she didn’t want to dine with him, but she wouldn’t turn down a chance to regain her strength and take a few morsels for Johnny. “Thank you.”
The captain sat back while the sailor filled his plate and didn’t say a word until the tar left. “When you boarded my ship, you said the duke’s daughter gave you the necklace when you were born.”
“She did.”
“Why, may I ask?”
“So that I would remember her.”
“Is that how you ended up in France?”
“Yes.”
“I’m beginning to see.”
“Are you? Because I have no intention of dragging my mother’s good reputation through the mire.”
“Mayhap that isn’t your intent, but I’m guessing the Duke of Beaufort does not see it that way.”
She shoved a bite of chicken into her mouth and almost moaned aloud. “Most likely not. He’s never had a kind word to say about me.”
“And now you find yourself on a voyage that will take you to hell. I read the Gazette. One moment you were the darling of London premiering in a Paris ballet, and now you have been reduced to the lowliest, most reprehensible of humanity.”
She gulped down a swallow of wine. “It appears so.”
“But I can help you.”
“You would do that?” She wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to hear more.
“If you agree to help me.”
Bria could only imagine the captain’s terms. And he had no idea how much she needed to return to London. Where was Drake now? How grave were his wounds? “I’m listening.”
“When we arrive in Botany Bay, I have a great many contacts. I can ensure you are placed well.”
She opened her napkin and placed a slice of bread on it for Johnny. “I have no intention of staying in Australia.”
“Perhaps not, but first you must survive this voyage, and then survive Australia. I can help you with both of those things.”
Nipping a leg of chicken, she set it atop the bread. “And what do you expect in return for your generosity?”
Sitting back, Sands smoothed his hands up and down his doublet. “You see, a man grows lonely during a three-month stint at sea.” He paused, his tongue nervously sliding across his lower lip while his words hung in the air like a death knoll.
While her stomach turned sour, she’d expected his indecency. The clothes, the soap and water, the blanket, dining with the captain—it was all meant to show her how nice things might be for her on this voyage. Furthermore, he’d tried to trick her into thinking he was kind by providing kindnesses for Johnny as well.
But at what cost?
When Drake had been left bleeding somewhere between London and Portsmouth?
She set her fork aside. “And if I refuse?”
“You’ll receive the standard convict fare.” He picked at his teeth with his fingernail. “If you survive the crossing, you won’t see the light of day again until we arrive at Botany Bay. And I imagine a woman as lovely as you won’t last long among the ruffians there. ’Tis a different world in Australia. A man’s world.”
Bria took another drink of wine to wash down her revulsion. What would become of her once they reached Botany Bay? “What about Johnny? Would you see him well settled once we arrive?”
Sands pulled something ungodly from his mouth and wiped his finger on the tablecloth. “The child is a foundling.”
“So was I, at least I thought myself to be at one time.”
The ship groaned and shuddered a bit, shifting Sand’s attention for a moment, but not long enough. His gaze returned and meandered to her breasts, thankfully concealed beneath her cloak. “You have little ground on which to negotiate.”
Bria crossed one arm over her chest. From what she understood, she was the only female aboard ship—which gave her a great deal more room to negotiate than he’d insinuated—though the thought of using her body to purchase protection was abhorrent. So, Sands’ kindness didn’t come without a price. The problem was she’d rather jump overboard than submit.
“Must you have my answer now?”
“If not now, by morning.”
She hadn’t yet played her final card. Though Bria preferred not to use it at this juncture, not knowing when she’d see Drake again, if ever. Not knowing how grave his injuries were. Not knowing if he survived them, she didn’t have many options. Somehow, she had to find a way back to England. Was the price worth her dignity? Was it worth putting her relationship with Drake in jeopardy? Worth the risk of conceiving a child? Could she live with herself if she gave in to the captain’s demands?
“You’re a player,” he said as if he knew what she was thinking. “Everyone knows women who join the theater are borne of easy virtue.”
“Not everyone.” Bria took one more piece of chicken and wrapped up the serviette. “Are you familiar with the Duke of Ravenscar?”
“Any Englishman knows of him. Not only is he in line to the throne, he’s the man who footed the bill for Chadwick Theater.”
“He is.” She tied the ends and slipped the food in her pocket for Johnny.
The man leaned back in his chair with a sly grin. “Ah, so you’ve sampled the hospitality of a duke?”
“He is my greatest patron. If you help me gain passage back to England, there will be a reward in it. A sizeable reward.”
Sands stood and moved behind her, running his thick fingers along the curve of her neck. “My, my, how you’ve been misled. I’d be more likely to believe Ravenscar colluded with Beaufort to send you to Australia.” He chuckled. “You had a bit of a tête-à-tête with His Grace, and now you’ve been sent away, cast aside, so to speak.”
Bria’s skin burned hot. How dare he insinuate the love between she and Drake was sordid? “As a matter of fact, he attempted to rescue me...until Gibbs shot him.”
“Shot? You story grows more preposterous by the moment.” Removing his hands, the captain moved toward the windows and gazed into the darkness. “Is Ravenscar still breathing?”
“He is, and I have no doubt he will be coming after me. As soon...as soon as he is able.”
“Where was he shot? It’s not uncommon for a man to succumb to a lead ball lodged in his flesh.”
“Does it matter?” she hedged. “I’m telling you there will be a reward for anyone who helps me return to England and I’m asking for your help.”
“You’re trying to sidetrack me.”
The ship lurched, making the glasses teeter.
“Captain!” The lieutenant burst through the door. “A warship is in sight and gaining.”
