Page 14 of A Lord in Want of a Wife (Daring Debutantes #2)

C edric groaned as he climbed up to the main deck of the ship. It was late and he ached from head to toe. Never in his life had he worked as hard as he had in the last couple weeks.

He’d done everything he could to impress Grace. He didn’t want to climb the riggings to earn her respect. He didn’t want to sit frozen in terror in the crow’s nest. And he sure as hell didn’t want to scrub, haul or tie off any of the millions of things sailors had to do on a routine basis.

But it was the only way to gain the woman’s respect and—hopefully—her dowry. Which would give him and his sisters a lifeline. Or so he hoped. And so he worked until his hands were bloody and his back ached.

And yet when he climbed into his narrow space between the spice cargo and the wall, all he could think about was the woman he’d kissed in this tiny space. How she’d felt in his arms and what he’d promised her only to have to take it back a few hours later.

It made him sick of himself. And so he left his berth to go up top. He needed to get some fresh air and maybe a fresh perspective. Because what he was doing now was hell.

He saw her immediately. Of course he did. And maybe, deep in his heart, he’d known she’d be there staring into the inky black water. Maybe she was wondering why he had abandoned her. He’d tried to explain, but how could she understand that his family faced starvation?

He stepped onto the deck, and she turned at the sound. Would she come to him? Talk to him? God, he hoped so. But she didn’t. A moment later, she turned her gaze back towards the water.

He tried to resist joining her, but it was a futile effort.

Lucy drew him even when she did nothing to call him forwards.

Or maybe that was why. She was a quiet soul who noticed everything, and he had long since learned that those were the souls who knew things that no one else did.

Whereas he spent much of his time entertaining those around him with noise and a quick wit, the quiet ones watched and learned things that could only be seen over time and at a distance.

And because he could never bear to be ignored by anyone, he found himself drawn to quiet souls. He wanted to draw them out, he wanted them to share a laugh with him, and he desperately wanted their love. Such was his nature.

At least that was what he told himself. It was the only explanation he had for why he ached for her so desperately when all logic told him to leave her alone. He had chosen her sister, after all.

‘If you are looking for a mermaid,’ he said, ‘I promise they are none so lovely as you.’

She jolted, clearly startled by his words. He suppressed a pang. He had not been subtle in his approach.

‘My apologies,’ he said. ‘I did not mean to startle you.’

‘You did not startle me. I did not expect compliments from you.’

His brows went up. ‘Did you think I would insult you?’

She turned to face him. ‘I don’t know if you still care for me.’

‘Of course I care for you.’ She would likely be his sister-in-law. ‘And I would never lie to you. Certainly not about your beauty.’ He gave her a wistful sigh. ‘You will have men tripping over themselves for you in London.’

‘I don’t want men tripping on me.’

She didn’t understand the expression, and the comedy of the image gave him a surprising jolt of humour. But rather than focus on that, he leaned back against the railing. ‘What were you thinking about, just then?’

‘That I cannot change my father’s mind. I have tried every way I can think of, but he will not give me this boat.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’

She touched his arm, the gesture bold for her. ‘But I can earn us money. I have worked with merchants all my life. I am a good saleswoman. And with the books, I can show you where to make money. There will be a good profit from the spices. Father says I can have that, at least. In my dowry.’

‘I know. You should make a nice sum.’ Enough to pay for a few dresses. Outfits for her Season, if she economised well. ‘But it is not enough. I must marry a fortune.’

‘You do not believe I can do it.’ Her voice was low. Almost a growl.

‘I do believe it,’ he said honestly. ‘You find it fun. I think you would balance accounts for free.’

She shrugged. ‘I did do it for free at the monastery. I could make you an excellent profit.’

He didn’t doubt that, but he didn’t have the time. He had an idea how bad things were at home. His sister’s letter had taken five months to find him. God only knew how much worse it might be now.

He needed this boat. He couldn’t take the time that Lucy needed to build enough equity for him to save his family.

‘Back when I was in school,’ he said. ‘I ran around with boys who gambled, boys who had a great deal more than I did.’

She didn’t ask what happened. It was in her expression as she matched his pose, leaning against the railing and angling her head to his.

‘Flush with coin one day, completely let out the next.’ He shook his head as he remembered. ‘Do you know what happened?’

He had her attention. He did not need to ask, but he found he wanted to hear her voice. And so he held back until she spoke.

‘Tell me,’ she said. ‘Please.’

How sweet that word was on her lips.

‘Every waking moment, I thought of nothing but money. How could I get more, when could I gamble with it. You would think that when I was flush, I would be a generous, carefree man.’ He shook his head.

‘I wasn’t, though sometimes I pretended to be.

I counted every penny, I measured every man by his coin and how I could get some of it. ’

She nodded. ‘I know many such people.’

‘I was miserable. As was everyone I gambled with. We drank, we had a jolly good time while doing it, but eventually, it consumed us.’

‘The gambling?’

‘The money. Everything was money. Win or lose, everything was money, and I hated it. I’d lost the ability to laugh purely because something was funny, to sing because it was joyful.’ He looked to her mouth, a soft bud hidden in shadow. ‘To kiss a girl because she is beautiful.’

It was too dark to see if her cheeks flushed, but he thought they did. He imagined she was remembering. That her body was heating, and her thoughts were on something a great deal more intimate than their conversation.

‘Did you quit gambling?’

‘For the most part. Penny stakes sometimes, but the temptation is always there. I need more money, you see. A lot more money.’

‘Why?’

‘For my sisters’ dowries. To repair the estate.

To keep all of us—my family and our retainers—in food and good cheer.

None of that can happen without coin.’ He stretched an arm out towards India.

They’d been on the ship together for more than a month and had only recently left that coastline on their way to Egypt.

‘It’s why I came to India. I wanted to learn how to make more coin. ’

‘But you left without any,’ she said. ‘I heard you in the marketplace. You gave your last rupee to that boy.’

He nodded. ‘I didn’t like how they made their money.

Graham is the best of fellows, and even he was turning mean.

Squeezing work out of peasants. Insulting artists to steal their work for pennies, then sell it for thousands back home.

’ He sighed. ‘If such a thing turned Graham mean, I would become a monster within a month.’ He looked down at his hands. ‘I must find another way.’

‘You think you are too kind to do it?’ she asked.

‘I think their way of making money will turn me cruel. Just as gambling did.’

‘Then I will do it,’ she said. ‘I will make the money, and you can help your family.’

She didn’t understand. ‘You cannot make it fast enough for what I need.’ He twisted so that he looked at her more directly. ‘What I need to know from you is something else.’ He touched her chin so that she met his gaze. ‘How do you make money fun?’

‘What?’

He winced, struggling to express his words. ‘You love it. You bargain like a native even when you don’t know the language. And when you are done, everyone seems happy, you included. You do not doubt yourself and you don’t hoard. How is this possible? When you are so sweet?’

She didn’t answer. Her expression was open, but her brows were tight as she probably tried to sort through his foreign words. He sighed. He was being foolish to imagine anyone had the answers he sought. If Graham had no answer for him, then what could a half-Chinese woman know?

He heard nothing for a long while. Just the beating of his own heart to the steady drumbeat of despair. And then her touch. Fingertips skating across the back of his hand in a stroke so gentle, he had to close his eyes to be sure the sensation was real.

‘I learned,’ she finally said. ‘From a boy named Ah-Lan. He is the one who saved me when I was dying.’