Romney Marsh Trilogy: A Gentleman by Any Other Name / The Dangerous Debutante / Beware of Virtuous Women

“You belong to Chance now, and he to you.” She stood up, reached into the pocket of her gown and extracted what Julia now knew to be a gad, the tooth thankfully small but still more than a little ugly. Odette lowered the thin circle of leather over Julia’s head, the tooth falling at the end of the strip to hang down between her breasts.

Julia felt a shiver run up her spine, but she was certain that was her own superstition, not any power in the gad. “Why, thank you. It’s…it’s lovely, really. I’m truly honored. Has Chance renewed the magic in his?”

“It is done. The boy would not disobey me. We settled that a long time ago, when he first came to the island and he put up a fuss about going into the bath I’d got ready for him.” Odette grinned again and actually winked at her. “There’s nothing I don’t know about that boy.”

Julia could feel color rushing into her cheeks even as she grinned. “You dumped him into the tub? How old was he?”

“Nine, or so we all decided. Too old for a young black woman to be sitting on him, stripping off his filthy britches and giving his bare backside a good whacking. Not that I could do that now, with him thinking himself a man grown. All you need with Chance is to let that boy know you won’t swallow any foolishness from him, that’s all.”

Was that what this visit was all about? Odette was giving her instructions on how to handle Chance Becket? Did the woman think she needed lessons? Of course she did. Julia thought so, too. But she did take issue with the notion Chance was just a boy being foolish. “Is that what you call his stubborn pursuit of what he thinks is best no matter what anyone else might think? Foolishness?”

“Anything a man does that a woman does not like is foolishness in one way or another,” Odette said, patting Julia’s shoulder. “You stand up to him and only bend when you want to bend. Marry strength with strength, and together you will be invincible. All the shadows of his past will disappear and you will both walk in the sun.”

Julia turned in her chair, put a hand on the woman’s arm. “Wait, please. I’d really like to know more about Chance, about his childhood. About the island.”

Odette smiled down at her. “Then ask him. The day he tells you, his heart is yours for the keeping. Do you want his heart?” The woman shook her head yet again. “No, say nothing. It is not yet time, I don’t think.”

“But you came here,” Julia said as she lifted the gad. “You gave me this. Have…have you cast a spell on me? I mean, not that I believe such things, turning people into animals and such, but…have you?”

“I use my magic for good,” Odette said, gathering herself up to her full height, which was impressive. “Callie is a child and likes stories, so I amuse her. Black magic is for those whose souls live in the dark, those who embrace the bad loa.”

Julia nodded as if she understood, which she didn’t. “Forgive me for questioning you, Odette.”

Odette grinned again, not a shadow in her eyes. “Questions make no never mind. Only be sure you wish to know the answers. I must be off.”

And, with no explanation as to why she must leave, Odette walked out, leaving Julia to sit alone in her chamber, to await Chance’s arrival to, so he’d said, discuss the nuptials.

Well, the devil she would! If he wanted to speak with her, he could very well come find her, not expect her to be sitting there waiting for him. Besides, it was probably best to let him find her somewhere there was no bed in the room with her.

She went to the wardrobe to gather up her pelisse, then remembered she’d left it in the main salon. “Blast!” She pulled open drawers until she found the knitted shawl Mrs. Kester had made for her—to thank her for staying with her, holding her hand until the midwife had come and all through the birth of her son Henry—then headed for the back stairs.

This area of Becket Hall was new to her. She was fairly sure it would take three solid days to see it all, admire all the fine furnishings, but she did stop a few times to touch an exceedingly beautiful vase, to bend down to slide her hands over one of the silk carpets.

Eventually she made her way to a set of French doors in the music room and from there she was soon outside on the terrace and then making her way down to the shoreline.

The sun shone brightly, so that Julia wished she’d thought to bring her bonnet with her, and the breeze had stiffened, coming in from the Channel to ruffle her skirts and tease her hair around her head.

The wind coming in from the Channel on a fine day had always been considered invasion weather, and she wondered if Lieutenant Diamond and his men still believed a French invasion possible. What would it be like to look through one of the windows of Becket Hall and see a thousand small boats heading in toward the shore, the sunlight twinkling on ten thousand rifles, ten thousand bayonets?

Julia wrapped her arms around her as gulls circled overhead, and turned in the opposite direction of the stables and small village, minding her steps as the sand and shingle eventually turned mostly to sand. She then turned inland, as she’d heard the stories about the shifting sands of Romney Marsh and the dangers they presented the unwary.

Luckily there was a narrow path visible through the marsh grasses and the few hardy bushes that seemed to grow sideways, pointing her way inland. As she reached a small rise, it was as if all of the Marsh was displayed for her in its stark, mysterious beauty. Mostly flat land but with a myriad of towering church spires in the distance, visible to the horizon.

She smiled. Her father had told her he would like to think the abundance of churches reflected the deep faith of the inhabitants but knew, alas, that the church spires, rising up above the flat land, were often little more than navigational tools for the freetraders.

She looked back at Becket Hall rising majestically above a mostly flat land. No need of a church spire here, but only the lighted windows facing the sea, like so many beacons. So innocent, unless someone knew what she knew. Or what she thought she knew.

Julia saw the rider before she heard the hoofbeats and pressed the side of her hand against her brow to keep the sun out of her eyes as the huge red horse leisurely cantered toward her.

“Chance,” she said to herself. “I’d be no easier to find if they tied a bell around my neck.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHANCE REINED IN JACMEL a good ten feet away from Julia and dismounted, tied the reins to the wrist-thick branch of a small, scrubby tree. “Thank God you turned inland, woman,” he said, taking hold of her upper arms. “Court and I were riding back after escorting the lieutenant and his men halfway to Dymchurch when I saw you. Nobody walks along the beach in this direction unless they know the way.”

Julia was shaking now, realizing she may have had a lucky escape. “So there are quicksands?”

Chance let go of her arms and stabbed his fingers through his hair. This woman was going to drive him straight out of his mind. “Why did I even bother thinking I might have to rescue you? How do I keep forgetting that you grew up learning about Romney Marsh?”

Julia considered the notion he’d been concerned for her, possibly even frightened. Either that or having her disappear would cause more trouble than anyone wanted, especially now that Lieutenant Diamond had seen her. She much preferred her first thought but couldn’t dismiss the second.

So she pushed—just a little.

“For a dangerous area as this is, it’s surprising that there would be such a well-worn path, isn’t it? But as you say, for those who know the sands, it isn’t treacherous at all. Only for those who don’t. I’m sure someone has warned Lieutenant Diamond away, told him of the danger to his men if they were to patrol here.”

Lord save him from intelligent, prying women! Chance grabbed her by the elbow and drew her along with him toward the horse. “We’ll walk back,” he said tightly. “Just let me untie Jacmel. Did you enjoy your walk?”

“Most of it, yes. Jacmel,” Julia said, also suddenly eager to change the subject. She realized that she was always eager to change the subject, mostly because she had said something she should not have said. “What does the name mean?”

“Jacmel is the name of a town I knew in the islands,” Chance said dismissively, for although he would much rather not listen to more of Julia’s stabbing remarks about the smugglers, he was likewise reluctant to discuss the islands. “Here,” he said, digging into his pocket, one hand holding Jacmel’s reins. “The moment didn’t seem right earlier, on the terrace. But you should have this.”

Julia automatically put out her hand, then goggled at the ring he’d laid in her palm. It was heavily engraved gold, with a huge green stone surrounded by tiny pearls. The sun winked off the stone, dazzling her, and she stumbled into speech. “I…I can’t take this. I don’t want to take this. Where did you get this?”

He’d known she’d ask that last question. Most women wouldn’t have, of course, but Julia Carruthers had her own definition of how she should behave. “It isn’t polite to ask such questions, Julia,” he said, because, oddly, he wanted to hear her reaction to his small reprimand.

“Probably not,” Julia said in what he was learning was her matter-of-fact bluntness, still staring at the ring. “Here, take it back.”

Very nearly the straightforward answer he’d expected, almost to the word, as he had been thinking she’d say absolutely not. Still, her meaning was clear. And he was beginning to understand her. Anything he wanted, she automatically rejected out of hand.

So being a little contrary himself, he asked, “Would you like another stone? I thought the emerald would complement your eyes. But if you want sapphires? Or diamonds?”

“I simply want you to take this back,” Julia said, all but shoving the thing in his face. “Or do you think I haven’t figured out what you and Ainsley and Jacko and the others did in the islands? Why you’re all so remarkably wealthy?”

“We were legitimate traders,” Chance said, unaware that a tic had begun in his left cheek. “Or are you looking at that ring and seeing me with a cutlass between my teeth as I board and plunder ships? Is that what you’ve conjured up now in that maddening mind of yours, Julia? That we’re nothing more than a crew of bloodthirsty pirates? And here I thought we were smugglers. Make up your mind, Julia.”

She didn’t know what to say and she definitely didn’t know how to say it. Did she really believe she was residing with a retired crew of pirates?

No, of course not; that was unthinkable, unimaginable. But privateers? That possibility made perfect sense to her, as far as things went. And wasn’t it odd that Chance had immediately said pirates, not privateers? Privateers were allowed, even sanctioned. But privateers commissioned by what country? England? America? Spain? Or even Napoleon’s France? The possibilities remained frightening.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said at last, sighing. “I shouldn’t speculate, should I? When…when you wish to tell me, if you ever wish to tell me about the islands or…or anything, it will be your decision.”

Chance smiled, feeling the moment over or at the very least postponed. “I don’t wish to tell you.”

“Oh,” Julia said quietly, remembering Odette’s words. He’d certainly put her in her place, hadn’t he? “I…I see. But I still can’t accept this ring. It’s all about deception, and I could never look at it or your family without remembering why I was wearing it.”

Chance’s smile faded. “You are the most headstrong, obstinate, difficult, disobedient—aren’t you going to interrupt me, tell me I’m wrong?”

“No,” Julia said calmly, hoping he didn’t know how exciting she found this moment and the man who was looking at her in such obvious frustration. “I was waiting for you to say something to which I might be moved to take exception. And you forgot contrary. My father always included contrary. Now take this blasted ring and get rid of it!”