Page 2 of Across the Star-Kissed Sea (Proper Romance Regency #1)

Miriam walked toward my hanging cot and turned about. “I think that rug I gave you will do nicely in here. Though it’s a pity you did not sign on with a seventy-four. A bigger ship would give you windows in the main room and gun ports for a little breeze.”

“Such is frigate life.” There would have been advantages to joining the crew of a larger ship. Miriam preferred the larger rates, as her husband, John, commanded one of them, but he already had a chaplain. So did our brother Isaac. I had to use my only other connection.

“She is a pretty little frigate though. Captain Peyton seems beside himself with joy.” She laughed. “His new wife, less so. She is a very reserved young woman, is she not?”

After sailing with Mrs. Peyton a year ago, I did not blame her. We hadn’t had the best of voyages.

Miriam completed her inspection of my cabin and took me by both arms. Though only three years older than my twenty-six, she’d mothered me as much as any of my four older sisters.

The serious look in her eye belied an impending lecture.

“You have tried navy life before. Twice. I am very seriously doubting your judgment, seeing you once again on board a warship.”

I didn’t have an answer to that. I doubted my judgment as much as she did.

“Father is too vocal in his praise of Isaac’s career,” she said. “You shouldn’t let him make you feel like a coward or a simpleton because the life of an officer was not for you. He should have welcomed your desire to follow in his footsteps.”

“I am a coward,” I said softly, “but his criticism is not why I am here.” At least not the biggest reason.

I drew in a slow, steady breath, blocking out the old memories that were even more painful than Miss Somer’s rejection.

My first time at sea had changed me in irreversible ways.

“I hope to make some small difference in the lives of these men.” It wasn’t untrue.

“Of course.” She pursed her lips, eyes dropping to examine my attire.

“Just remember that running from heartache does not solve your problems.” She brushed something from my waistcoat, a fashionable green silk she and I had chosen the last time I’d returned from a voyage.

Back when I’d vowed never to go to sea again.

“You have to face your problems. Show life that it cannot beat you.”

“We have already established that I am a coward,” I said.

“You have a funny way of showing it, signing on for another voyage.” She went up on her toes to kiss my cheek. The action nudged my spectacles slightly askew. “You have so much love to give, Elias. And a world of good to offer. Don’t give up because one woman couldn’t see that.”

I adjusted my spectacles. “She hasn’t been the only one.” Three others had broken my heart before her. Clouds gathered, thick and heavy inside me. I needed air. “Shall we go above?”

“Ah, yes. I should be on my way.” She retrieved her bonnet from the top of my trunk and put it on.

“We are off to Southampton this afternoon, and then we will make for Brighton to see my mother-in-law.” Her hands dropped to her sides.

“I love the woman dearly, I truly do, but if she asks us one more time when we will have children, I think she shall get an explanation that will make her choke on her tea.”

I laughed at her peeved expression, but as I had no experience with mothers-in-law, I didn’t know what sort of sympathetic response to give.

“You do look nice today,” she said as we left the gun room and made for the stairs. “It’s a pity you aren’t going to a picnic or for a drive in Hyde Park. Your taste in fashion will be lost on this crowd.”

Along with many other things, such as the comfort of a delicate blend of herbs and spices infused into a hot cup of tea.

I could use such a drink and a few moments alone just now.

We passed the gun deck and emerged above to a brilliant sun and all the clamoring one could expect from a naval dockyard.

The Marianne ’s full crew had not yet been mustered, but the boatswain’s and carpenter’s mates, along with a few seamen, made inspections and moved lines about.

I removed my spectacles and shoved them into a pocket. In full light, I didn’t need them unless I was reading. I could see far distances easily, but in close quarters, I struggled.

“Write as soon as you receive your orders,” Miriam said, pulling on her gloves. “I am most anxious to know where you’ll be. With war on practically every front, there is no telling where they’ll send you.”

“Of course.” War. My stomach soured. Though I hadn’t fought during my previous voyage, as a chaplain, I’d seen the aftermath. Broken bodies, bloodied forms. Scenes I’d fled as a ship’s boy.

She embraced me, then hurried down the gangplank to her waiting carriage.

I stepped to the rail to watch her go, a pocket of emptiness opening in my heart.

We’d hardly seen each other more than a few times since I’d returned from my voyage on HMS Deborah , but she understood me better than anyone in my life and loved me for my oddities. Not many did.

“Is that the captain’s wife?”

Not far up the deck, two young men stopped at the rail—the boatswain’s mate and carpenter’s mate, guessing by their jackets. They looked four or five years younger than I.

“Peyton’s wife doesn’t have blazing hair like that,” the taller of the young men said.

He must be speaking of Miriam, and the thought made me watch him warily.

He wore a smirk that seemed permanently etched into his face.

“Mrs. Peyton’s a slight thing. Did you not see her up here this morning?

” He lowered his voice to say something to his companion.

The guffaw that followed attested to its vulgarity.

I clenched my jaw, hands balling into fists. This sort of talk was all too common in the service. Hearing such remarks on the subject of someone I knew and respected made it difficult to ignore.

The young man straightened. “Pity we’re not gettin’ this one. I wouldn’t mind staring at that day after day.” He raised a brow and, with a crooked grin, nodded toward the retreating coach. “I like ’em—”

“Show some respect,” I snapped, surprising myself. My voice echoed across the deck, louder than I’d intended.

The young man turned. He looked me up and down, then snorted. “Lookin’ is free, mate.”

His companion hissed something at him, but all I heard was “chaplain.”

The young man’s mocking glance only deepened. He leaned back against the rail on one elbow, doffing his cap. “Saving me from my lecherous sins, Mr. Chaplain?”

“Your sins are your own business, but I will not tolerate such talk toward my kin.” Least of all Miriam. He showed no remorse on the revelation that she was family. My confidence faltered. “Do you not have better things to attend to?”

The young man scratched his chin, a dull look in his eyes. “Better things? What better things? Sorry, Mr. Chaplain, but we simple seamen don’t have the brains for knowin’ which better things the likes of us should be thinkin’ about. Perhaps you could enlighten us.”

I swallowed. He was hardly a simple seaman.

Officers couldn’t tolerate insubordination like this taunting.

Left unchecked, it had dangerous consequences.

But I was only a chaplain and practically undeserving of inclusion among the ranks of officers.

What right had I to reprimand his insolence, especially when I barely outranked him?

He turned back to the rail, making another comment to his friend that I couldn’t hear. They seemed intent on enjoying a moment of gawking at and ridiculing the women who passed.

Elias, you idiot. What good did you think to achieve with men like them? I wasn’t Captain Peyton, who commanded not just respect but also appreciation from all he met.

Well, most all.

“I like the looks of that one.” The taller one gestured.

On the street below, a young woman in a muted maroon spencer and gray gown walked slowly up to the Marianne .

She paused, the right distance to put her in perfect focus for my vision.

She squinted in the glare of the sun through the rigging.

With a hand holding the back of her simple bonnet, she swept the ship from prow to stern with her gaze.

I straightened, cocking my head. Had I imagined the calculating look on her features?

“As though she’d look twice at your ugly muzzle, Frank.”

“Think we can persuade her aboard?” Frank popped a coin from his pocket and flipped it before them.

I stiffened. When I’d boarded, Captain Peyton had requested I help the officers in preventing any extra women trying to stow away.

On the other side of the idling mates, the boatswain’s wife, Mrs. Hallyburton, with her stern glare, stood helping her husband on the forecastle.

Not long after arriving, I’d seen her drag a girl off the ship in a terrible chorus of hollering and screeching.

Heaven help the streetwalker unlucky enough to cross her path.

The shorter mate shook his head. “She’d charge double, that. Look at that face.”

“Look at that figure.” The pair snorted.

I ground my teeth. It would be a long journey with these cads. I could only hope they’d mellow their roguish talk with no women aboard. Or perhaps they’d worsen. Men like this often did.

People passed the woman below as she stared at our ship.

She looked young, perhaps nineteen or twenty, common among those trying to sneak aboard to earn a few extra coins.

I leaned forward. Though tidy, her clothing had a worn appearance.

One of the women who solicited to officers rather than sailors?

Most of the sea officers on the Marianne were married, though that didn’t always prevent liaisons.

“Now’s your chance,” the shorter mate said. “Tell Hallyburton she’s your wife.”

He waved to get the young woman’s attention. “I tried to say that last time. Didn’t believe me. Thought the old hag would drag me off by the ear, too, so I made myself scarce.”

Then he’d been the one to help the previous harlot sneak on board, and he clearly had no remorse for it. My opinion of this mate plummeted by the second.

Please let her move on . Checked and striped shirts dotted the upper deck, but no blue-and-white coats to signify the presence of a commissioned officer. I’d have to save this young woman from Mrs. Hallyburton since her gawkers clearly had no intention of protecting the girls they played with.

The young woman lifted her chin, then strode purposefully for the gangplank.

My stomach leaped to my throat, and I tightened my fingers on the rail.

The mates hooted, elbowing each other. I didn’t even know how much money she expected to earn, but perhaps I could pay her off.

The same price for no ... effort ...

would surely be more appealing. Whatever happened, I had to save her from the boatswain’s wife.

I darted for the gangplank, dodging seamen.

Mrs. Hallyburton’s back was turned, but it wasn’t a large ship.

One wrong glance would draw her wrath. I had little time to avoid a scene.

This young woman didn’t deserve public humiliation, no matter her situation.

So many of these girls and women were forced into terrible positions in which they had to sell themselves just for a roof over their heads and meager sustenance. They deserved empathy, not trouble.

She stepped onto the deck, clutching a paper in one hand, and made for the hatchway as though she knew the ship well. I jerked to a halt, throwing a hand out to stop her progression. She stared at it, then met my gaze.

“It would be better if you left, miss,” I blurted. The brazen light of midafternoon caught the soft, honey-colored curls about her face. What was one supposed to say to a woman of her character? Especially one so nice to look at?

Imbecile . My pulse pounded, grateful she couldn’t hear my thoughts.

Her brows lowered dangerously. “I beg your pardon.” Her dark-blue eyes bored into me with a severity that fuddled my already scrambling mind.

“The captain has requested ...” I licked my lips, which suddenly felt dry. “Women of certain repute are not to board.”

Certain repute. Can you sound any more ridiculous? Or condescending?

The young woman’s nose wrinkled, and she straightened her arms, her fists bunching at her sides in mustard-colored gloves. “Who exactly do you think I am, sir?”

My face burned hotter than before. It had to match my hair by now.

Mrs. Hallyburton turned, making my skin prickle.

“Please. I don’t wish to make a scene.” I stepped closer and lowered my voice.

Murmurs from the mates drifted over. Chuckles at the chaplain trying to dissuade the harlot.

“I’ll pay you what you would have earned, but you should leave and save yourself the spectacle. ”

She stepped to the side, distancing herself from me but making no move to retreat. The livid fire in her gaze had cooled to steely disdain. “I am here for work.” She spoke with a calmness that belied her agitated expression.

I let out a strained breath. “Yes, I know it. And I commend your efforts to find work, but surely there are better ways to earn a living.” I tried to think of any connections I had in Portsmouth who might be in need of a scullery maid or washwoman. I didn’t know many people in the city.

“I will make my own decision, though I appreciate your concern.” Her cold voice suggested she did not appreciate it at all.

Mrs. Hallyburton had caught a whiff of disobedience. She stalked toward us, a tigress after her prey.

“Please, miss,” I begged. Captain Peyton had given us clear instruc-tions.

The young woman held up the paper in her hand. “If you would excuse me, I must find Mrs. Peyton. I am answering her advertisement.”

I blinked. Why would Mrs. Peyton hire a .

.. I inched back, taking in her spencer and gown, the latter of which had a more gathered skirt than this year’s styles allowed, though it was only a couple of years out of fashion.

From her gloves to the reticule hanging from her wrist to her pointed half boots, one thing was becoming humiliatingly clear—this young woman was no streetwalker.

Elias, you bumbling numbskull.