Indeed, that had been his intention the moment he’d stepped aboard this ship headed for England. He was determined to charm whichever spoiled heiress his mother paraded before him this Season. But the very idea sickened him.
Until he met Lord Wenshire and his daughters. Clearly, the man was wealthy. Exactly how wealthy was a mystery, but he had enough to adopt two half-Chinese daughters because of an old love affair. More importantly, the man had spent most of his life working for the East India Company. That could easily make Lord Wenshire a nabob, and his daughters heiresses.
Cedric spent a very pleasant few minutes imaging how one dowry could set his family back on their financial feet. First, he would repair the farms that were falling apart, then he might invest in pigs, and the canal needed significant repair. All the marvelous things his father was supposed to be doing but wasn’t. It was like the man had a sickness for gambling and nothing stopped him. Not three daughters who needed dowries, not a home that was falling apart and not several very blunt talks between him and Cedric.
Which left any hope for his family in Cedric’s hands.
He would have to investigate further. Not the pigs, but the girls. After all, he had no competition on the boat. How hard could it be to charm one of the two Chinese girls when the only other men were rough sailors or men as old as their father? The idea of choosing his bride in such a mercenary way horrified him. But he would rather make the choice himself than leave it up to his mother’s dubious selection.
He knew as well that he would give whichever girl he selected a good life as his countess. He would honour his marriage vows and treat her with the respect every woman deserved. It wasnot a bad bargain, and so he applied himself to the task of choosing between the two sisters. He watched their movements, lived in constant awareness of their locations, and he found his preference becoming stronger with every passing second.
The older Miss Richards—Grace—was an equal to the crew. She ran the sails, manned the crow’s nest and worked as long and as hard as any of them. She had the backing of the captain and worked as the ship’s navigator when the regular man grew tired. If any sailor dared disparage her, she got even in the way of all boys. She tripped the man or saddled him with a hated chore. Once she surprised someone with a bloody rat in his hammock. It was a quiet game of one-upmanship, which she always won because Captain Banakos allowed it from her and not anyone else.
In short, the elder Miss Richards met challenges head-on and dared anyone deny her. She had the skill and the canny to defend herself. It impressed him, and he should have found her fascinating.
He did not. It was the younger one who snared his attention.
Miss Lucy Richards always stood in the shadows, watching the coming and going of the crew. She seemed to be charting in her mind where everyone went and why. She watched, she followed and if she saw anything amiss, she whispered it to her sister who met the challenge in typical bold fashion. But the elder would not be nearly as capable without the younger one’s sharp eyes.
He thought that interesting. A nice sign of cooperation between sisters. But then he discovered that Miss Lucy Richards was a great deal more.
Several weeks after he’d boarded, he sat at dinner in the captain’s mess. Her father, the captain, indeed, all the men at the table, were in good spirits. The weather was fine and the breeze perfect for their travel. And since her sister was in the crow’snest, Miss Lucy Richards was the lone female in the room, sitting silent as everyone else conversed.
As often happened, the conversation turned to the food. ‘I have never had meals such as this,’ Cedric said. ‘It is chicken, and yet the taste is beyond anything I’d ever imagined.’
‘It’s the Indian spices, my lord,’ responded Captain Banakos. ‘I’m surprised you like them. Usually, it is too spicy for Englishmen.’
‘No, no, this is different,’ Cedric pressed. ‘I’ve been eating Indian food for months, but this… Your cook makes it better. Just the right amount of spice. Or in the right combination.’ He leaned forwards. ‘Have you ever tried selling it in England?’
The captain chuckled. ‘The Dutch control the spice. Can’t buy or sell it without tripping over one of them. And they’re protective of it. No, our best bet is tea and that’s what we’ve got in the hold.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Cedric said, thinking hard. There had to be a way to turn this to his advantage. ‘But a little bit of the right spice could make a killing, don’t you think? If I could make it fashionable.’
‘You still have to deal with the Dutch,’ said the captain.
‘And make it fashionable,’ added Lord Wenshire.
Making something popular with thetonwas easy. He had all the connections for that. In truth, it was the only thing he had—childhood friends, many from school, who owed him a favour or three.
‘I can buy spices.’ Miss Richards’s quiet voice brought the entire conversation to a halt. ‘I managed all the food for the temple. It was my job for two years.’
The captain cleared his throat. ‘Managing a kitchen is different from the buying and selling—’
‘I bought and sold. And my first apprenticeship was with a spice merchant. I know how to buy it.’ She flushed wheneveryone stared at her, but she didn’t back down. ‘I cannot fill your hold, but I can get you a fair price at the next port.’
‘There isn’t room in the hold for that. Or coin.’ Captain Banakos’s tone was dismissive, but she persevered.
‘There is if you sell one crate of tea,’ she pressed. ‘I can buy an equal weight in spice. And if you allow me to look at the account books, I can see if there are other ways to save.’
If the table had been quiet before, it was nothing compared to the shock at her statement. A woman who had heretofore been silent now asked to see the account books. Cedric couldn’t credit his own ears, and yet, her father seemed amused rather than shocked.
‘You think you can make sense of the captain’s handwriting? It’s in English, you know. Numbers, not characters.’
She lifted her chin. Quiet confidence radiated out of her. ‘I can make sense of it,’ she said. Then she arched her brows. ‘I can make a good profit.’
Cedric stared at her. Never had he seen a woman so sure about money. And at that moment, he realised the younger girl was the powerhouse, not the older. If what she claimed was true.
Meanwhile, the captain was not nearly as impressed. ‘You want to look at my account books?’ he scoffed. ‘That is not a plaything for a girl.’