The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part forty-three

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18 ,19,20,21,22,23,24,25,26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33,34,35,36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42

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Richard

All day Richard sensed conversations passing behind his back, and caught his senior crew watching him at times. There was a sense of being undermined – of mutiny. It became an absurd anxiety that every man on the ship knew Emerald had spent the night in his cabin. Of course they did not. It was simply paranoia. But he was certain Mark knew.

If only Emerald had not laughed this morning. It had been an unmistakable feminine sound.

Richard leant on the poop-deck rail and looked down at Emerald and Mark, their heads were bowed over hands of cards as they played a game. Mark had been watching over her more solicitously this morning, like a damned older brother, and casting Richard judgmental looks as though Richard was a villain. His actions were none of his quartermaster’s business. He was not answerable to Mark. Mark answered to him. Perhaps Mark needed reminding of that fact.

Richard let go of the rail and turned to face Philip his arms crossing, over his chest.

They’d had no trouble from the French ship. It had let them sail past. Which was lucky, if they had been boarded and their loads examined, it cost a hefty bribe to get past without interference. The seas were rife with piracy and it was not always the outlaws performing it.

Yet in four or five more days they’d reach London. England.

A now familiar pain gripped in Richard’s stomach and his chest.

He was going to have to part with Emerald there, for a while at least. He’d begun fervently hoping she was with child. If she was, she’d have no other choice but to take him and he wanted her to have no choice. He did not think his attempt to bind her to him last night had succeeded. He was beginning to believe, with her sharp intelligent mind, he would never achieve it. She would never be biddable. She would always be independent and sparking fire. The thought made him smile. If she changed – if he changed her – she would not be the same woman, would she? He should not attempt to change her. Her independence, intelligence and fire were her attraction.

‘Then do not order me about like one of them and I shall not defy you.’ She was right. It was the easy answer, but it did not appease his need to be respected.

You self-absorbed fool. Why should she let him place her beneath him? She was equal to him in all else, in status, intelligence, and above him in human kindness. She had a way with people he would never have – his siren. Why should she let him quash those things in her nature?

He would not.

He would do as she said and let her do as she pleased. God, it would be a novelty to have someone to share his burdens with as he went into the future, if he let her be his partner –his equal – not just his wife. Perhaps he would even make it official and have her name added to the business.

He wondered what Charles Martin, Calcutta’s governor, her father, would say to that? What the whole of Calcutta would say to that? When they saw he had succumbed to the charms of the governor’s daughter. No one would believe he had given her access to all of his life.

All of his life.

That thought struck him like a fist. He was about to face a large portion of his life which he’d shut out for years. He actually wished she’d be there to face it with him, but it would be wrong to hold on to her, she had her own family to comfort her through the remainder of her period of mourning.

But if she was there, she would sooth him. She mellowed him. He would not feel so bitter if she were with him.

God he was terrified of losing her and he had never been scared of anything previously.

Yet she had already given herself to him physically, surely she could not renege in London? But what if he lost her?

“Well done, Miss Martin. As usual you have thrashed me.”

Richard turned and looked down again, his arms falling, as Mark stood up. Mark caught Richard’s gaze and his expression firmed before he looked back at Emerald.

“I am very tired today,” she said. Foolish girl, she’d slept in as far as his men were aware. “I think I shall rest until dinner.” She may be intelligent but she was not used to lying.

When they disappeared from view beneath the rail, Richard looked back at Philip and began a conversation. Then he heard Mr Bishop knocking on the day cabin door below. “Mr Swallow, may I speak to you?”

Richard shut Emerald, Mark, and England, and all Richard had to face there, out of his mind and focused on the ship – his ship – a part of his kingdom – his world. He was comfortable in this place. He could control it. Well, he could control everything bar Emerald – and mother nature – though even nature seemed easier to predict and tame than Emerald Martin.

“Shall I take the wheel?” Richard offered.

To be continued…

The Marlow Intrigues: Perfect for lovers of period drama, like Victoria and Poldark.

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5

The Scandalous Love of a Duke #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel #5.5

The Persuasive Love of a Libertine #5.75 now included in Jealous Love, (or free if you can persuade Amazon to price match with Kobo ebooks)

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

The Reckless Love of an Heir #7

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the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part forty-two

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18 ,19,20,21,22,23,24,25,26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33,34,35,36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41

Emerald

Emerald hurried into the room and closed the door then turned to face Rita who was fully clothed and sitting silently on her bunk. She had put out Emerald’s clothes.

“Miss,” Rita stood up. “Is this wise? Your mother would–”

“My mother is dead,” Emerald answered in blunt denial, a cold pain breathing through her chest. “She is not here to care. Now help me dress. I am late for breakfast.”

As was Richard. The thought brought a smile back to her lips and warmed her inside.

Emerald stood still as Rita pulled tight the laces of her corset and then tied the tapes of her petticoats’. Her body ached from the delicious test of endurance Richard had challenged her with last night. He had displayed a new vitality and he’d seemed so desperate. She could not deny how good it felt to be able to make a powerful man like him desperate for her.

When she left the cabin in Mr Bishop’s company, her hand on his arm, she was smiling broadly, she could not help it. She was living in a dream. The memory of her argument with Richard only made her wish to smile more as she thought of its wicked conclusions.

Mr Bishop held open the day cabin door and she very nearly asked him what had happened about the French ship, when she walked past, only catching her tongue at the last moment when she remembered she should not know. But she had already taken the breath to speak and then stopped. He smiled in an odd way, but then a frown immediately furrowed his brow. He’d been silent as they crossed the deck. She supposed if he suspected, he would disapprove, as Rita who was walking behind them did.

Emerald had a feeling that she blushed. There was only Dr Steel in the room. “Are the others not eating?”

“Mr Pritchard is at the helm and Mr Farrow is with him. Mr Swallow is resting.” It was Dr Steel who answered as he stood.

Rita sat in a chair across the room and Mr Bishop walked ahead of Emerald to withdraw a chair at the table for her. Emerald sat opposite Dr Steel, and felt as though she faced a judge in a court room. But Dr Steel could not know. Mr Bishop would not dare defy Richard and speak even if he had guessed. This was Richard’s ship.

Dr Steel offered her the basket of fresh bread. She still did not want to speak to him. She had not forgiven him for not speaking up about her mother’s illness. Her smile was wiped away.

She accepted some bread and reached for jam. They had cured ham too, which they’d brought aboard in Gibraltar and oranges, with strong coffee or hot chocolate. As she helped herself, Dr Steel asked, “How are you?” His voice formally polite.

“As well as I might be when my mother died unexpectedly a little more than fortnight ago.”

“Am I never to be forgiven, Miss Martin,” he challenged quietly as Emerald took a slice of ham from a plate Mr Bishop held for her.

She looked directly at Dr Steel. “I should not think so. You cannot change the fact you did not tell me and I cannot change the fact my mother is dead and I had no chance to say goodbye. I must endure my pain. You may endure my lack of forgiveness.”

Dr Steel smiled, but it was only an acknowledgement that her jab had cut him as intended. “I am sorry my decision caused you such distress. Yet forgiven or not, if you need to talk to anyone, I am willing to listen.”

She frowned at him. Listen to what? She did not answer.

“Will you sit on the deck this morning?” Mr Bishop’s tone was curt, when normally he was always so pleasant.

She was sure she was blushing again when she looked at him. “Yes, please. I know it is getting colder and soon it will be too cold to do so.”

“Would you like a companion?” His tone was still terse.

The pitch in his voice brought a sense of uncertainty. She wished to ask if he knew about her and Richard and if so would he speak of it? If he would then she would beg him not to. She did not want Richard judged badly because of her. But she could not say anything because what if Mr Bishop had not guessed.

“I would be grateful, if you may spare the time?” Her gaze dropped from his and she focused on her food.

“I may. I know you prefer not to be alone.” There was a change to his voice, it held sincerity and it drew her eyes to look back at him.

He smiled.

She smiled too, remembering how in the beginning she had wanted Richard to be more like him. But she had never been attracted to Mr Bishop, he was kind and polite but he had no spark. It was Richard’s fire which ignited her.

The door into the day cabin from the deck opened. She looked across to see Richard enter accompanied by Mr Swallow.

Mr Bishop stood.

“Sit, Mr Bishop.” It was Mr Swallow who made the direction.

“Gentlemen, Miss Martin,” Richard said in greeting. He bowed his head formally towards her. Her smile became broader again, parting her lips . Less than an hour ago they had been in his bed, wrapped up in each other. She felt another blush and caught the movement of a twist in his lips that implied a smile. She looked away once more, at her food. But when he walked past she distinctly felt the tip of one of his fingers brush across her back.

“What are your plans today, Miss Martin?” he asked when he was seated as he began filling his plate.

She glanced at Richard, very aware of Mr Bishop watching them, and she could not seem to stop blushing. “I have agreed to sit with Mr Bishop on the deck this morning.”

“Then I shall entertain you this afternoon.”

He had not spent time with her for days to avoid suspicion. “Thank you.” She glanced at Mr Bishop and met a look of what seemed to be sympathy. Why? She frowned. Oh. But Richard was probably playing games and facing Mr Bishop’s suspicion head-on denying fear of any speculation. Richard Farrow at his most venomous. But then Mr Bishop would be foolish to speak out. She would not fear it either.

When they had finished breakfast they all stood. “Miss Martin,” Mr Bishop, lifted his arm. She looked back at Richard. He bowed his head then smiled slightly.

“Might I have a word with you later, Captain?” Mr Bishop asked as her hand rested on his arm.

Mr Swallow’s eyebrow’s lifted. “Of course, look me out when you have finished keeping Miss Martin company.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As Mr Bishop walked her from the room, with Rita following, Emerald glanced back again. Richard was talking to Mr Swallow but he saw her look and smiled at her over Mr Swallow’s shoulder, a lightness rising in his eyes. It was the greatest acknowledgement she would receive before his crew.