Chapter 33: Throwing Stones
James had anticipated a long voyage, but the days seemed to drag out more than necessary. The seas were unbearably calm, and the winds came and went at an agonizingly slow pace.
"The calm a'fer the storm," Captain Sutherland said. "An' they've been a'few this season."
"Bloody hell," James snarled. "Of all the times the sea decided to behave as it should, it would be now?" He turned to the captain. "How long does this extend the voyage?"
The captain shrugged. "T'would be easy t'as'ume... A day more? Per'aps less, 'ard t'be too sure."
"You're a seaman!"
"Aye, bu' I'm no bloo'y oracle," the captain cackled, turning to walk away.
James watched him go with a sour expression and cursed foully. He looked up to the skies and mourned the lack of storm clouds. Had he not prayed for calm waters, perhaps they would be in Belmoran by now—they had been on the sea for a two and a half days now, and they had been the most agonizing days of his life.
From Portsmouth to Cork, Ireland was about a day and a half, from what James gathered. But they were heading towards the Ports of Belmoran, which was on the other side of the mainland, facing west. According to Captain Sutherland, that added two days onto their journey and, with this horrid still water, it would possibly be a day more. That meant that, under normal circumstances, James would have been in Belmoran by now. He would have been able to see the love of his life.
"Curse this bad luck of mine," he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.
Maybe his bad luck was so great that a storm would actually hit, but one could only hope at this point.
XXX
London, England
Lydia had not gone to see Beatrice since their rather stoic conversation a few days past. She was still concerned that the young woman knew something about her why Lucy had not returned home, and now even Lydia was beginning to suspect the reasons she was being given.
"Lucy needs to return," her mother said, voice firm. "It has been too long. Your uncle is already in Lanfore, no doubt, there is no reason for her to remain there while he secures the estate for himself."
"Beatrice has not told me anything," Lydia sighed. "Something happened in Lanfore between the two of them, mother, I just know it."
"Hmph," her mother ran her hands over the table in the drawing room of their London home. She had spent many, many days holed him inside since Lydia's father passed away. "Hardly surprises me. I warned Lucy against going anywhere alone with a society girl like Beatrice."
Lydia shook her head. "I think it was more than that. Perhaps the stress of being home—"
"Nonsense, Lucy is not the one to allow such things to bother her," her mother replied swiftly. "It was why we agreed to send her instead of you. But she has been gone long enough, she needs to come home."
"Perhaps we're over thinking it, mama," Lydia tried. "Perhaps she's just up there to meet with Uncle Robert, and she will return when she can."
"Why would she want to meet with that foul man?" Her mother scoffed.
"Lucy loves Uncle Robert," Lydia reminded her. "You may have them, but the both of us have no grievances towards him. She probably wanted to be there to show him around, and will return when she does."
Even as she spoke those words, Lydia didn't believe them. She knew that Lucy had had every intention to return to London as soon as she could, and not linger too long. It could have been assumed that she had met up with James Boatwright and they were lavishing in the memories of yesteryear, but even then Lydia knew that Lucy would not have lingered. James Boatwright was merely a dear childhood friend; she knew how much their mother disproved of their coupling, if there was one at all. Even Mary Boatwright, James's mother, detested the idea. Lucy wasn't an idiot; she would not have stayed behind for James. Even the idea of her staying behind for Uncle Robert seemed outlandish at best.
A knock sounded on the drawing room door and a maid popped her head in.
"Pardon me, miss, a Ms. Beatrice Thornton is asking to speak with you," she said.
Lydia and her mother exchanged looked and Lydia shrugged, looking back at the maid. "Send her in."
Lydia's mother sat up in her regal stance. Lydia saw the look on her face and was glad that she was not on the receiving end of it. If Beatrice Thornton did not come with the proper answers, Lydia feared the verbal lashing her mother would give her.
Beatrice walked in, hair windblown and cheeks flushed. Lydia offered her a smile, but she felt that it didn't reach her eyes. Her mother, on the other hand, wasted no time.
"Ms. Thornton," she gestured to a chair across from her. "Would you sit down? Mina, fetch some tea."
"That will not be necessary," Beatrice said, "and I won't be sitting."
"Oh?" Lydia's mother sat back.
"Yes, I did not come for any drawn out conversations, Mrs. Quincy."
"Why did you come, then?" Lydia asked.
"To tell you what I can, and allow you to make of it what you will."
Lydia glanced at her mother as the woman was nodding, the same cold expression on her face. "Speak, then."
Beatrice sighed and folded her hands in front of her. "When we were in Lanfore, Lucy and I attended a ball at Dawn-Bridge, I am sure you know of it. I wasn't aware of anything out of the ordinary, but when we returned Lucy did seem rather disturbed. That night, a note was delivered to my room; later on I realized that it was not meant for me. In that note," she paused, cleared her throat, and continued, "well, Mrs. Quincy," she looked to Lucy's mother, "it was a note that you wrote to the late criminal, Arthur Denning. I am sure you know of its contents."
Lydia frowned and turned to her mother, who was now paler than a sheet. "Mother, what is she talking about?"
"Keep talking," her mother said, ignoring Lydia entirely.
Beatrice shrugged. "There is nothing more to say. That is the reason why I returned and Lucy did not. I read the contents, found myself extremely disturbed, and left."
"What did the note say?" Lydia pressed.
"That is for your mother to indulge you. I, however, have said enough, and I will take my leave," Beatrice curtsied. "I gave Lucy the note. She knows everything now, and that is why she has not come home," she nodded to both the women. "Excuse me."
"No, wait!" Lydia stood. "Don't you dare walk out of that door until you've explained—"
"Let her leave, Lydia," her mother said sharply. "Let her go."
"Mother, don't—"
"That's enough," her mother held up a hand. "Ms. Thornton, give your uncle my best. You may leave."
"Wait!" Lydia turned back but it was too late, Beatrice was gone. She whirled back to her mother, furious. "Why did you do that?!"
"Lydia, sit down."
"She could have told us more, why did you make her leave?"
"Sit down," her mother pointed to the chair next to her. "Now."
Lydia huffed angrily and did as she was told crossing her arms under her breasts and furiously tapping her feet.
"When you've calmed, then we will discuss this."
"What letter was she talking about?" Lydia asked, refusing to wait. "Why would you write to that criminal?"
"Leave it be, Lydia," her mother said. "There was no letter, she was lying."
"Why would she lie about that?" Lydia asked. "In what universe would she conjure up a lie about a letter you wrote to Arthur Denning?"
"I don't know, but that does not concern me," her mother replied. "You are focusing on the wrong thing, Lydia."
"Pray, tell."
"She mentioned Lucy was disturbed coming home from the ball at Dawn-Bridge," her mother replied. "I believe that is the reason why she had decided to stay, not this tosh about a letter I wrote to a known criminal."
Lydia didn't buy that, but what could she do? Of course she would try and figure it out on her own, she knew that Beatrice was not lying about that letter. She was going to find out what that letter said, because Beatrice knew. Obviously she had thrown in the detail of the ball to divert them from the point of the story; giving them two details and allow them to figure out which one was more important. Lydia remembered her father speaking about that. It was a vague memory, but now it was more pertinent than ever.
Lydia was going to get to the bottom of this, and figure out what her mother was hiding.
XXX
Lanfore, Hertfordshire
Sebastian Lucas waited with a bouquet of flowers for Elizabeth Donaldson. His plan was to take her for a walk and serenade her with stimulating conversation. He knew he could sweep that girl off her feet and make her forget James Boatwright. The advantage was that she did not know her father's ulterior motives. To her, James was a marital prospect, and Sebastian could match that.
Elizabeth arrived alone, which was what he requested. He did not need a chaperone, and neither did she. His concern was for her to see him as he was. She was a lovely girl, that much was obvious, and she had no wealth for him to lust after.
"Ms. Donaldson," Sebastian bowed deeply and kissed the back of her hand. "You look like the English Rose all poets froth to write verses of."
"You are too kind," she smiled and nodded to the flowers. "Are those for me?"
"Who else?" Sebastian presented the flowers to her and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"
Elizabeth smiled and took his arm. As he led her out of the market, his thoughts were spinning with how he was going to go about wooing her. He had to steer conversation away from James, who was long gone from here.But to speak about himself only would make him look as self centered as he really was. He had to play this right.
"I hope I did not shock you too much with how openly I displayed my affections," Sebastian said as he walked her to the grove. "I figured that it would not do for you to have to settle for someone who is not worthy of your time."
Elizabeth blushed at that. "And you think you are, Mr. Lucas?"
"Oh, I know I am," Sebastian replied. "But that is my opinion, of course. You are entitled to your own, Ms. Donaldson."
"Meaning?"
"I think I am your perfect match," Sebastian said. "But if you do not share that opinion, then you may feel more than free to reject my proposal. I did it with only me deepest feelings for you at heart, I am only sorry I waited so long. I just figured that my status in Hertfordshire and reputation would be enough for you to accept, and if you do not share my feelings, then that could come later. I do know that I can provide a safe and happy home for you, anywhere you want. I have estates elsewhere, so you do not have to be rooted in Hertfordshire forever, if that is your wish."
"Can you take me to London?" Elizabeth asked as they sat between two towering trees with leaves that boasted the colors of autumn falling down around them. "I have so wished to go there."
"If that is your desire, then so be it," Sebastian smiled. "Anything for you, Elizabeth. I mean only to make you happy."
"My father will have to give his consent," Elizabeth said with a shy smile.
"I've no doubt about that," Sebastian replied smoothly. "I will present myself to your father and allow him to do so."
"Truly?" Elizabeth looked mystified.
"Indeed, my Lady. I will lay myself bare for you, such is the depth of my feelings," he took her hand in his hand kissed the back of it. "And thus it shall be."
"If it shall be," Elizabeth corrected him. "There is still the proposal of James Boatwright to consider."
"The one that he could not stick around long enough to offer you?" Sebastian asked. "Elizabeth, darling, you are a goddess amongst thieves. Why should you have to be made to wait for a man who did not give your feelings a second thought? A man who, at first opportunity, took off into the sunset, and put his business before you? I would never do that, Elizabeth. For me, you always come first."
She looked rather convinced by his little speech, and Sebastian had to hold back a laugh. What better way to steer her away from his good friend than making him sound like a soulless troll?
"Well, Mr. Lucas," Elizabeth stood gracefully and smoothed out her skirts. "I believe we have a few more hours together."
Sebastian stood as well. "Right you are," he offered her his arm. "Shall we, my dear?"
The two of them walked out of the grove, arm in arm and, as they left, Sebastian caught sight of Bertha Denning passing them by. They shared a nod that Elizabeth did not see.
The plan was rolling along smoothly, and they both knew it. If it went as it should, Bertha would have her house in the south of France, James would have Lucy, and Sebastian would have a proper wife.
But, of course, as it always happened, the best laid plans often went awry. Sebastian was ready for that, and prepared for the worst.
He only hoped James was. If not, the storm was well on its way to blast him to oblivion.
XXX
En route to Belmoran
The captain called James to the helm later that day, when the sun was just setting on the horizon. James had spent the better part of the day fuming at the thought of having his voyage stalled due to the lack of wind, and he was in no mood to discuss any more bad news.
As it was, no such news was to come.
"Take this," the captain handed James the spyglass. "Look a'ead."
James frowned and did as he was told. It took a moment, but when he focused on what he knew he was supposed to be seeing, he couldn't help but grin.
"Jus' a day's voyage now, sir," the captain say. "Come morn', we will dock in Belmoran."
"Land ho, captain," James handed the spyglass back to him. "Land ho..."
I'm here, Lucy. I'm here, my love.
___________________
Author's note: Thanks for reading, we hope you enjoyed! Drama is here, as most would say, what sort of havoc do you think James is going to wreck in Belmoran? ;)
Leave a vote and comment, let us know how you liked it, and we hope you all enjoy the rest!