Page 25 of His Unforgettable Bride (Bride Ships: New Voyages #4)
Twenty-Five
The young man who makes his first entrance into the world of society, should know how to choose his friends, and next how to conduct himself toward them .
M inutes after arriving at the hotel in Victoria where he had previously stayed, Gray primed his fist to knock on Dobbin’s old room when the door opened, revealing his oldest friend. His heart beat wildly. “Merciful heavens. I was worried about your welfare.”
The color drained from Dobbin’s face as he drew a stack of paper against his chest. “Henry?”
Neither spoke for a moment, only stared at one another. Dobbin’s face was as familiar as his own. “So, you were not overly injured after the seashore incident?” he asked.
“I’m fine, but…you’ve been missing for weeks. Where have you been?”
“I shall explain it all. But first, I would like to don something dry.” Rain had accompanied him from the dock to the hotel. Gray glanced over his shoulder before turning back around. “Are my belongings still in the same room?”
“Everything is as it was. I never stopped believing you’d come back.” Dobbin heaved a shaky sigh. “I was just on my way to distribute more missing-person papers.”
Gray smiled. “I saved you a trip.”
Dobbin fetched the room key before opening the door across the hall for Gray, who exchanged his wet garments for a dry set. Then, Dobbin started a fire in the hearth as Gray provided an abbreviated summary of what had transpired since they last saw each other.
All the while, Juliet’s last words before he departed from Everly eight hours earlier still echoed in his soul. Don’t come back, Henry. Ever.
Their conversation left him with one monumental regret—not telling her that Faith had been Sutton’s love, never his. Initially, he blurted out his betrothal without rehearsing how to explain the complex situation gently. He had tried to fix his blunder, but she refused to open the door and listen to his clarification. If Juliet knew the truth, could she be persuaded to change her mind about traveling to Bascandy with him?
He was unsure. From the moment he had started speaking with her through the crack in the door, she’d seemed to have made the decision to separate from him. What was he to do?
Mid-afternoon rain pelted the windowpane of his room, and a fire now sizzled in the hearth. “You stare at me as if I am a figment of your imagination. It is unnerving.”
Standing near the window, deep worry lines etched Dobbin’s forehead, his jaw tight. His fair hair had grown longer since the last time they had seen one another, and his blue eyes carried a wariness. “Apologies, sir. You’ve been absent for weeks, and I’m still absorbing that you were kidnapped and suffered amnesia. It’s much to comprehend.”
“Were you badly hurt the night of our attack?”
“A headache for a few days. I never saw anyone sneak up on me. When I came to, you had disappeared. Please forgive me.”
“No need to apologize. I was also completely caught off guard, and the waves were thunderous if I remember correctly.”
“Still, it was my job to protect you, Henry.”
Henry. He should probably start thinking of himself by his proper name. “Let us talk no more of it. What is done is done.”
He had caught the first steamer out of Everly to Victoria. Between a barrage of memories and thoughts of Juliet, he had pondered on a bench for the seven-hour ride, except when he paced for long stretches. He also contemplated his relationship with his father, realizing that amnesia and Sutton’s death had taught him a valuable lesson—among many—about not taking others for granted.
How could they resolve their differences? A wholehearted conversation? More time? Whatever the answer, Henry intended to put in the work to make changes. Surely, the King desired the same outcome.
Dobbin hung Henry’s coat in the wardrobe, turned around, and drew a deep breath. “An official correspondence arrived a week or so after you vanished. When you didn’t promptly return, I read the missive in your absence, sir.”
Henry moved to a plush chair beside the fireplace and gestured toward a matching gold chair for Dobbin to sit. “Go on, but first, stop calling me sir. It drives me a little mad. Today, I only need a friend.”
After Dobbin angled the furniture so they could view one another, he sank into the seat and rubbed his palms down the front of his trousers. “The King has died, Henry.”
“No!” The jolt hit him with bullet speed, directly punishing his heart. Everything inside him squeezed as memories marched through his mind—Father on his beloved steed, then at the head of the table, and finally next to Mother in their private sitting room.
First Sutton, now Father. Undoubtedly, the double heartaches must have shattered his mother and sisters. Bascandy, as well. A hollowness burrowed inside him, a raw space he knew not how to fill. He drew a deep breath to gather himself “Had my father taken ill?”
“Chest pains one evening, then never awoke in the morn.” The same ailment had shortened Henry’s grandfather’s life, though he had lived much longer.
Unsteady, he gripped the chair’s arms as the magnitude of the King’s death slowly bled into his skin. He was no longer just a prince. He was the ruler of his country. He was the new King.
Merciful heavens. He had thought he would have more time to adjust to the prospect, to learn to accept the duties that would one day be his, duties he had never wanted and a role he had never coveted.
“You will do exceedingly well succeeding your father.”
Would he? It was too late for the King to offer even a whisper of wisdom regarding how to rule Bascandy. When Henry left home, he never expected his family to decrease by two so rapidly. “Time will tell, I suppose.”
“During our youth, do you recall how my mother bribed us with desserts so we would listen to her Bible stories?”
A bundle of gratitude multiplied inside him because, once again, he recalled big and little pieces of his past. “Yes, and I also remember her apple cake.” He was swept back to the warmth from the kitchen hearth, the never-ending cinnamon scent, and Mrs. Taylor’s spirited voice as she shared the Scriptures. Characters from Abraham to Zacchaeus had sprung to life.
“Then I suppose you also recall how she used to say a person’s true identity was in Christ, not in being a king, a pauper, or anyone else.”
Mrs. Taylor’s words were as vivid today as when she recited them at her table long ago. “I did not understand her message back then, but I do now.”
Dobbin leaned back and crossed his ankles. “I suspect your amnesia and leading a life as a commoner has molded your character and prepared you to rule Bascandy. Of course, it’s merely a guess.”
Henry had always believed that leading an ordinary life far exceeded one full of pressures, expectations, and rules from the palace. Then God answered his earnest prayer, dropping him into the role of a simple carpenter who faced hardships and heartbreak—the same as everyone else.
Cy had trained him to be patient and to start each day with a plan as they renovated the carriage house. More than once, Icala had relayed the importance of trusting his instincts, of not hesitating to try a new endeavor, and that mistakes were inevitable. The sisters had repeatedly embraced him as a beloved family member.
And then there was Juliet, the best person he had ever met. Throughout her life, she persisted and carried hope in her heart. She had a gumption he respected, and she always treated others with compassion, even the stray cat.
Was that not what God also preached—kindness and charity toward others?
Could he take fragments of what he had learned and lead Bascandy with integrity and empathy?
His time in Everly had shown him he was capable of all those things and more. In fact, he had matured and changed, and he was better suited now to the kingship than before he started his journey around the world.
Why, then, was he opposed to those duties and that role? What was wrong with him? Why did he still balk at filling his father’s spot?
“I am not Sutton. He was born to rule. And me? I have always made mistakes, causing problems and earning Father’s censure.”
Dobbin was silent a moment before speaking again. “Do you remember what your father told you on the dock as you were leaving for your voyage?”
Henry closed his eyes and tried to recall his father’s farewell. “‘I pray you grow into the man God created you to be.’” Although wise words, Henry had not reflected on the poignant message since leaving home.
“You may have thought he wanted you to be like Sutton.” Dobbin’s voice was earnest. “But he only ever wanted you to be the man God designed you to be, someone different than your brother, to be sure, but still a worthy and noble man who was admirable in his own right.”
Henry opened his eyes and met his friend’s sincere gaze.
Was carrying on his family’s legacy without too many missteps possible? What if God had even allowed his amnesia to prepare him to be a better ruler?
But who would reign beside him? A sharp pain stabbed his temple, and he rubbed the sore spot with his fingertips.
“What specifically troubles you, Henry?”
His stomach burned with dread. “It may kill me to leave my beloved behind.”
Dobbin’s eyebrows climbed high as he leaned forward. “You have a beloved?”
One day, he would share the unbelievable tale of his Everly days with his friend, perhaps during their long journey back home. But two pressing matters elbowed that conversation to the side for now. “Yes, indeed. I have fallen deeply in love with Juliet Dash, who discovered me unconscious behind her workplace. She is everything to me.”
After blinking, Dobbin’s eyes still held a dazed stare. “In a matter of weeks, you met and developed deep-rooted love for Miss Dash while having amnesia? And she works for a wage?”
“Correct.”
“I don’t mean to question you, but are you certain it’s not merely an infatuation or gratitude since she saved your life?”
Dobbin’s skepticism failed to surprise, offend, or deter Henry. Naturally, he would forever be thankful for Juliet’s rescue, but love had shoved appreciation to the side. “My sentiments for Juliet are sincere. She is kind, charitable, and a genuine angel of mercy. At a tender age, she took responsibility for her life and faced many hardships, then traveled here on a bride ship.”
“She is searching for a husband and set her sights on you.” Although he failed to say rich husband , Henry caught Dobbin’s inference.
Juliet cared about him as a person, not as royalty. “Actually, I gather she preferred me as a carpenter to a prince. Still, I intend to wed her if she agrees.”
“Forgive me for playing devil’s advocate, but what about Faith?”
Henry drew a labored, frustrated breath. “A fair question that I cannot answer, though I shall speak with her immediately upon arriving home.”
“Have you already proposed to Miss Dash?”
“Not yet. I realize I need to break my engagement with Faith first. For all I know, a wedding date is set, a dress is sewn, and invitations are mailed. Yet even if Juliet refuses me, I cannot wed another.”
“Faith must miss Sutton dreadfully.”
“Indeed, and I assume she is unwilling to wed so soon after his death. Perhaps I shall remain single forever.” The idea held a measure of merit should Juliet ultimately refuse him, and she certainly could.
A royal life was not for everyone.
Dobbin’s brow arched. “What about an heir?”
Henry groaned and slumped as silence built around them, sleet lashing the windowpane. “How long until we can sail home?”
“A few of your men continue to search for you and have ventured into the wilderness. We’ll need to round them up. Since your disappearance, we’ve explored the area between here and Seattle and recently ventured to the mainland.”
“Including Everly?”
“I am unsure exactly where on the mainland, but we continue adding additional places up and down the coastline daily. Someone reported seeing you near Port Alberni, north of here, but obviously, it was a false finding.”
Everyone serving the crown swore oaths, agreeing to sacrifice their lives for the royal family. Their devotion humbled Henry. Now that he thought about it, Juliet had acted similarly, offering to step aside as he chose a better bride. Except none existed, and he refused to give her up without mounting his best arguments.
“I also sent a letter to the palace explaining the situation, which was excruciating,” Dobbin said.
Henry winced. As soon as possible, he must return home. “I shall write Mother yet today.”
A sharp knock sounded on the door, and Dobbin moved to answer the beckoning as Henry stood. “Who is there?” Dobbin called.
“The chief constable. I understand Henry Graighton is inside this room, and I must speak with him immediately.”
Dobbin’s blue eyes swam with deep concern as they met Henry’s. “One moment, sir.”
Ruby had traveled on the same steamer to Victoria, though she had the good sense to refrain from speaking to him. Had she run straight to the constable, dragged him to the hotel, and now expected a reward? Juliet had explained that the poor woman had a child on the way, so why not give her the money to help her provide for the baby?
“Bid him inside. He has saved me a trip. After he leaves, we shall go to the harbor, address our men, and instruct someone to find those who search for me. And you shall accompany me to Everly to meet Juliet in the coming days.”
Chuckling, Dobbin reached for the latch. “By Jove, you sound like a proper king, full of instructions and plans for the future.”
Henry grinned before growing serious again. He was ready for justice to reign, even in a frontier town perhaps newer than his borrowed coat hanging in the wardrobe. It was time to reveal the truth to the constable—Ruby had stolen her prior employer’s jewels and now blackmailed Juliet.
With Ruby no longer a threat, Juliet could move on with her life. But on what path? With him or without?