Chapter 1
The early morningsun glowed gold against a vibrant display of reds and yellows. Standing on the quarterdeck of his ship as it slid through the water, Devlin Christopher Benjamin Crawford considered the view London offered as he approached: a black silhouette of historic buildings against the fiery sky of dawn.
It was ten months since he’d last set foot on English soil, and while he always dreaded returning to the memories still haunting him here, he looked forward to seeing his family with great anticipation.
To think six years had passed since his brother Caleb, the Duke of Camberly, had married Mary Clemens, and five since his other brother Griffin had married Emily Howard never ceased to amaze him. Both couples had since been blessed with a number of children, including a set of boisterous twins, and he, being the excellent uncle he was, had made certain to bring them each a gift.
“Right ten degrees rudder,” Devlin told his first mate, Mr. Montgomery Quinn. “Let’s bring her to port.”
“Aye, aye,” Quinn responded.
The ship swung to the side, lining itself up at just the right angle. “Steady now,” Devlin ordered. Stepping forward, he gauged the distance to the quay, waited a good five minutes until it was at the right distance, and addressed Quinn again. “Ease your rudder.” As expected, they slowed their progress while steadily sailing toward a vacant berth. “Keep her so.”
“Very well, Captain,” Quinn said, his eyes never wavering from his destination.
Confident Quinn knew what he was doing, Devlin turned to the mooring crew. “Prepare to throw the heaving lines!” The task was carried out to perfection one minute later, allowing the mooring lines to be securely attached to the bollards.
Devlin breathed a sigh of relief. Although he’d been through this countless times, there was always a risk that something would go wrong, causing the ship to crash into the quay. He gave his first mate a smile. “Welcome home, Mr. Quinn.”
His friend of almost fifteen years grinned. “Thank you, Captain.” Neither man veered from proper protocol while on board, but once they stepped onto land, they’d be Monty and Dev to each other. “It’ll be grand to see my wife and children again.”
“Frankly, I don’t know how you do it,” Devlin said as he climbed down onto the main deck and headed toward his cabin. Monty kept pace directly behind him, issuing orders to the occasional crew member as they went. “Being away from them for such long periods of time must be trying.”
“It is,” Monty agreed, “which is why our next voyage together will be my last.”
Halting mid-stride, Devlin turned to face his friend. “You’re serious?”
“I’m afraid so.” Monty scratched the back of his neck and looked askance, his expression sheepish. “I was going to wait until we were back on land before bringing it up, but I suppose now’s as fitting a time as any.”
Devlin tipped his head to acknowledge Monty’s reasoning, then turned back toward the ladder leading below deck.
“I can’t keep leaving Laura and the children for such long stretches of time. It’s too damn hard.” The soles of his boots thudded against each step as he clambered down after Devlin.
“Which is why I have no intention of ever marrying,” Devlin said as he opened the door to his cabin and stepped inside. He grabbed his journal and stuffed it into a leather satchel. “If I had a wife and children, I would be torn between settling down for their sake and chasing after my own dreams.”
The last thing he’d want was the sort of marriage his parents had had where they hardly spoke to each other and lived apart most of the time. Of course, he knew it was possible to have the opposite. His brothers had proven as much. But Devlin couldn’t quite envision himself in the role of domestic husband.
Monty, who’d stayed in the open doorway with his shoulder and hip propped against the frame, raised an eyebrow. “You make a fair point, but being the married man I am, I don’t have much of a choice. And besides, the love I have for my family has made the decision a great deal easier for me.” He snorted. “Hell, my youngest will have learned to walk and talk by now. That’s a lot of time to have missed.”
Devlin glanced at the man on whom he relied more heavily than the rest. The pensive frown he wore suggested this had not been an easy decision for him. He would miss sailing, but there was no doubt his mind was made up. Regrettably, Devlin knew it was time for him to start looking for a new first mate.
Still, it was difficult to relate, partly because he could not imagine loving a woman more than he loved the sea and also because he had no desire to make a home for himself on land. Not only because his soul was restless and constantly needed to stay in motion but because he couldn’t stand remaining in England for too great a period of time. Too much here reminded him of things he’d rather forget, like the fight he’d had with his father the last time he’d seen him alive, and the tragic carriage accident he still felt responsible for.
He shuddered, then retrieved the trunk he’d packed the night before and placed it near the doorway. Straightening, he met Monty’s gaze directly. “Why don’t you head on home?”
Monty stared back. “I can’t do that when the cargo needs to be unloaded and stored.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Devlin said. He tilted his head and grinned, not caring that he would be almost buried in work for the next two days without Monty there to help. “Take your children to Gunther’s for an ice or something. Go for a walk in Hyde Park.”
“Are you sure?” Monty looked skeptical.
“Quite.”
It took a moment, but Monty finally nodded. “You’re a good man, Captain.” The edge of his mouth tilted. “There isn’t a woman in England who wouldn’t be lucky to have you.”
Devlin chose not to answer. It was difficult to argue with a man who’d made vastly different choices – choices Devlin knew he himself could never accept. So he simply wished him well and went in search of Mr. Harris, the boatswain, who’d help him with the logistics of sorting and storing the goods they’d brought from India and China. There were Englishmen stationed out there who longed for things from their homeland. And there were Englishmen here who’d pay handsome prices for exotic fabrics, teas, and spices. So he made the ten month round-trip journey as often as possible, never staying more than four days at most in each port. Except in England where he had been known to remain for up to four weeks.
“I’ve sent letters out to all of our clients informing them their orders are ready to be collected,” Devlin told Trevor Bronswick two days later. Trevor was the officer in charge of ensuring the right order went to the right person. He was also the quartermaster’s son and eager to make a maritime career like his father. “Send for me if any of them gives you trouble.”
