“Yes indeed.” And it must have been her nervousness at how everything might go terribly wrong that caused Charlotte to start reciting:
“Oh, the grand old Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men.
He marched them up to the top of the hill,
And he marched them down again.”
The sailor was taken aback, and even Delia laughed nervously at her side.
“She just wants to see her fiancé,” her maid explained.
“Then her fiancé should have bought her a ticket.” He looked Charlotte up and down. “Maybe he can’t afford a wife, and you’d do better to look elsewhere. Pretty girl such as yourself.
“He’s a viscount,” Delia protested, obviously not appreciating the sailor’s forward manner with her charge. “And he’ll be most annoyed that she can’t get to him. You know how the nobility are. One minute you’re a seaman and the next, it’s off with your head.”
When Delia made a slicing motion across her throat to illustrate her meaning, Charlotte decided the stress must be getting to her maid, too. After all, Charles was hardly a ruthless tyrant.
Then inspiration struck her as it always did in the shop. “I have something for you,” she said, thinking perhaps the sailor didn’t have easy access to confectionery. “A tin of sweets if you will accept it.”
Naturally, she hadn’t traveled without something sugary and soothing. Although she and Delia had eaten a few on the train journey, there were many left. Without waiting for an answer, she fished the Rare Confectionery tin out of the carpetbag she carried.
“You can have whatever is left — chocolates, toffee, and marzipan — if you’ll just let me up the plank to speak with Lord Jeffcoat. Please.”
The sailor looked from her to the outstretched tin, which he took so slowly she wanted to scream. But eventually, with eyes narrowed, he opened it.
“Ah,” he said after breathing in the aromas of chocolate, butter, sugar, and almonds — all combined to smell like heaven. He chose a piece of toffee, popped it into his mouth and closed his eyes.
A whistle sounded on board, barely louder than hers, indicating the ship’s imminent departure.
“Please,” she said. “I’ll come back directly.”
Nodding while sucking the sweet, he stepped aside. However, when Delia went to follow, he barred her and said to Charlotte, “Just you, miss, thefiancée.” He said it as if he still doubted her. “This one stays with me.”
“This one!” Delia repeated, sounding outraged.
The sailor shrugged, again addressing Charlotte. “That way I know you’ll return.”
“As if I’m a hostage,” her maid muttered.
“I’ll be back shortly,” Charlotte promised. And finally, she set her foot upon the gangplank.
CHARLES THOUGHT HIS eyes might pop out of his head. Charlotte was bounding up the plank.Was she insane?He watched her board the vessel, but hemmed in from both sides by passengers standing at the rail, he couldn’t rush to intercept her and send her back down as he wished. Instead, slowly, he moved in her direction, annoyed that she was going to force them into a public display.
When they did finally get near one another, she didn’t stop at a civilized distance. As carelessly as she’d performed her unseemly whistle on the dock, she now did the unthinkable — she collided with him so he had to sweep his arms around her in front of the other passengers or be bowled over by her.
As soon as he had her against him, the noises of the vessel and the dock fell away, as did all thought of who might be watching. His familiar Charlotte had dropped her carpet bag upon his shoes and was holding on to him tightly.
“Charles,” she said, looking up into his face. “I caught you in time. Please come off the ship with me.”
“I’m going to France,” he said, thinking his words sounded a little lame and tepid in comparison to her grand gesture.
“If you go to France, then I will, too.”
He shook his head. She had no idea what she was saying. “Why?” he demanded.
“Because I love you,” she declared, and not quietly but as though they were alone and could speak frankly.
