Appreciating his willingness to comply, Simon followed him below deck and through the passageway leading toward his quarters.
“You look like you’ve been through quite the ordeal,” Captain Spencer said once he and Simon were seated across from each other at his desk. It wasn’t a large cabin and there were only the two chairs. But it was enough to suit the current situation.
“Let’s just say I’ve had a few obstacles to overcome.” Simon handed the release order and the letter the chief magistrate had written to Captain Spencer. “Miss Strong has been wrongfully accused. She doesn’t belong on this ship, and as such, I would like for her to be released immediately so I can bring her home.” When Captain Spencer glanced at him with one raised eyebrow, Simon added, “She is to be my wife, the Countess of Fielding.”
A gruff sound left Captain Spencer’s throat. He scanned the documents and returned them to Simon. “My apologies to you both for the wrong you’ve had to suffer.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Nevertheless.” Captain Spencer stood. “I’ll take you to her right away.”
Relieved, Simon followed the captain down two more ladders to the deck allocated for prisoners. Simon raised his arm to cover his nose and hold back the smell he was met with the moment they entered the crowded containment area. The ship hadn’t even left London yet and already the air in here was thick with sweat and urine.
“Miss Ida Strong?” The captain queried. He was holding a handkerchief to his nose and mouth – most likely one scented with lavender oil or some other fragrance.
Simon scanned the miserable collection of people who’d have to live here during the coming voyage, and although he was sure most of them deserved such a fate, he could not help but feel pity. His gaze shifted, drawn to a movement.
A hand had been raised. “Right here.”
“Please come forward,” the captain said.
Simon watched while Ida attempted to stand, but there wasn’t much space. Her body swayed a little as she steadied herself. She looked up, her eyes found his, and the disbelief he saw there, the desperate yearning and love that lit up her face, caused his soul to weep for the horror she’d had to endure.
“Make way,” the captain ordered. He gestured to one of the guards, who immediately started clearing a path by pushing and shoving people aside.
Once again, Simon was glad to know Ida wouldn’t be staying aboard this ship and forced to face such rough treatment. She maneuvered her way toward him until she was finally there, within arm’s reach. Her dress was filthy. Haphazard locks of hair fell against her cheeks and over her shoulder.
“Simon.” The word was but a croak as he pulled her into his arms and embraced her. She shook against him while sobs filled her throat. “Thank God you’re here.”
“Shh…” He smoothed his hand over her back. “Everything will be all right now.”
“I love you,” she whispered against his chest.
Cupping her cheek, he smoothed his thumb over her skin until she was gazing at him through watery eyes. “I love you too. With all that I am.”
His mouth met hers as he held her to him, supporting her with his strength while assuring her with his kiss that he would always come for her, no matter what. Easing back, he brushed the tears from her eyes with his fingers and tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears. “Come on. Let me take you home.”
Keeping one arm securely around her waist, Simon guided her back up to the top deck where he thanked the captain for his help.
“I’ll have one of my men row you back to shore,” the captain said as he shook Simon’s hand. He then offered Ida a short bow. “My apologies for the way you’ve been treated. I’m glad Lord Fielding reached us before it was too late to save you.”
“Thank you.” Ida leaned against Simon as if seeking comfort, so he made sure to hold her close and infuse her with reassurance and hope.
“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he said once he and Ida were back in the hackney and heading for Mayfair. “And we’re getting married as soon as possible, so I can protect you with my name.”
During their walk back to the hackney, he’d told her of Mr. St. John’s arrest. Now, comfortably seated with her beside him, he held her hand tight while she rested her head against his shoulder.
“I still can’t believe I’m here with you. It feels like a dream.”
“A wonderful one,” he whispered against the top of her head.
She nodded and they rode on in comfortable silence until the carriage drew to a gentle halt. Simon opened the door and stepped down onto the pavement before reaching up to help Ida alight.
“What are we doing here?” Her brow knit with confusion. “I thought you would take me to Bedford Street.”
With a shake of his head Simon guided her up the front steps of Fielding House. “Miranda isn’t there anymore. She’s here with the rest of the servants. And besides, this is to be your home, so I see no reason why you should not start using it right away.”
She gaped at him. “We are unmarried.”
