‘I will. And have a right jolly time of it.’
Graham snorted and tugged his companion along. It was fortunate that Lucy was headed in the same direction. It allowed her to follow their conversation. And when her sister noticed what she was doing, Lucy whispered, ‘I’m practicing English.’
It was a lie. The pair of Englishman intrigued her. Or more accurately, Cedric did. He was good-natured in the way of the best kind of wealthy men, and yet it appeared he hadn’t a coin for his meals. She didn’t know what the wordbrowbeatmeant, but she could guess. She’d received her own share of beatings. It was common for a half white, half Chinese girl like her, even in the temple where she was raised.
That he disdained such a thing reinforced her belief that he was a kind man very much like her adoptive father.
Were all Englishmen like that? If so, then England must be a land of generous plenty.
She wanted to linger, to hear more of the two gentlemen’s conversation, but she didn’t dare lose her party. And since her adoptive father had been pulled into a conversation with a so-called medicine man, she hurried to protect him.
She needn’t have bothered. To her surprise, he was more knowledgeable than most about medicines. Even though his cough was a new development, he’d travelled throughout the world and knew a charlatan when he met one.
So they left the medicine seller and returned toThe Integrity, only to pull up short when she saw their captain in discussion with none other than Cedric and Graham. They were standing at the base of the gangplank, talking in the formal way of wealthy Englishmen.
Mindful that she wasn’t safe until she was aboard ship, Lucy hurried up the gangplank. But then she lingered up top, standing as close to the conversation as she dared without appearing obvious.
She couldn’t hear anything that was said. She contented herself with watching the way Cedric’s body stayed relaxed despite the dangers that she constantly feared. His English face was animated, and she liked his high cheekbones and bright blue-green eyes. But what she really wanted to hear was his laughter. When it rang out, it was as sweet as a bell.
How free he sounded!
And then, to her absolute delight, Graham handed over passage money to the captain and Cedric climbed aboard.
Cedric saw the pretty girl watching him from the main mast. He’d seen her in the marketplace as well, trailing behind them as they headed for the ship. He was well used to girls making eyes at him. It had nothing to do with him personally. The attention came because he was Cedric, Lord Domac, future Earlof Hillburn. And because he wasn’t hideously ugly. But that didn’t stop him from playing to his audience in the hopes of stealing a kiss or three. That was, after all, how he’d spent much of his adolescence, and he saw no reason to change that now that he was travelling.
Unfortunately, his title meant less outside of England than inside it. So he had to rely on his charm, of which he had plenty. As he boarded the ship home, he made pains to smile winningly at the girl and then stopped long enough to look at her more closely.
Such a face she had! Golden skin, dark brown hair, and eyes that lowered demurely when he looked. Not a bold miss then, despite her obvious fascination with him. He appreciated subtlety in his women, though in truth, one lady was much the same as another to him. If they made him smile, they were worth his attention, provided they required no coin whatsoever.
And ifhemadethemsmile… Well, that’s how things became fun. Even the most awful day faded if there was a woman willing to ease his pain—and hers—that night.
He saw the Asian cast to her features, knew she was of mixed race, and was intrigued by the way two vastly different cultures combined to make a glorious whole. He noted with surprise that she was dressed in the English style, buttoned up despite the heat, and carrying a parasol which she’d obviously forgotten nearby.
He crossed the deck quickly, eager to learn more about her without once giving thought to who had care of her. That was probably because the girls he noticed rarely had a protector. Not so with this girl. He had no more than picked up her parasol when an older Englishman with a weathered face stepped up beside her.
‘Hullo, hullo!’ the older man called. ‘I’d heard we had a handsome young buck coming aboard.’
‘I don’t know whether to feel the compliment at being called handsome or insulted that I could be shot by an eager huntsman.’ He grinned as he shook the man’s extended hand. ‘I’m Lord Domac, and I’m pleased that I shall have interesting company on the long journey home.’ As he spoke, he winked at the girl whose eyes widened in shock.
Well, that was a new reaction. She wasn’t exactly frightened by him. She had not run away. But she clearly wasn’t used to interacting with a flirt. He needed to soften his approach until she grew used to him. Then he intended to flirt outrageously with her for the next five months.
‘I’m Lord Wenshire and this is my daughter Lucy Richards. Her sister is here somewhere, too. But don’t expect too much conversation from them. They’re still learning English. Though I’m constantly impressed by how much they do understand.’
Hmm. The girl didn’t have the vacant look of someone who couldn’t follow the language. If anything, she appeared bright and engaged, though obviously silent. ‘I shall be sure to speak properly then, so she won’t learn the wrong things from me.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ the father said with a note of steel in his voice.
A protective father. He could work with that, especially since the man followed up the hard stare with a fond one for his daughter. He was a kind man, then. That made everything easier. So he smiled and addressed the father in a respectful manner.
‘I am sure you have a tale or three about how you and your lovely daughters came to be here. I hope you will share them with me.’ He sent a warm look towards Lucy. ‘I am most anxious to hear more.’
The girl pinked at his look but did not turn away. He held out his hand in a courtly gesture. She glanced uncertainly at her father, but at his nod, she held out her hand to be kissed.
Neither of them wore gloves. He had lost his ages ago and from the golden brown of her skin, she had never worn them. They touched skin to skin, and he felt a strange current of delight flow through him. It was nothing so striking as a shock. More like a recognition that went soul to soul in an odd hum.
He saw her eyes widen again and wondered if she felt the same thing. He drew her hand up to his mouth. He knew how to stroke a girl’s palm to set her heart aflutter. But in this moment, he forgot to do it. He looked into her eyes and wondered what she felt, what she thought, and if perhaps the two of them might share something special.
It was nothing more than the magic of first meeting. He was well acquainted with the flutter of arousal that accompanied any new woman in his life. It meant nothing beyond his usual joy at something novel. Or rathersomeonenovel.