“Not sure,” the sailor, a young freckle-faced boy, answered. “She’s hoisting her flag right now.” The ship was too far away for Charlotte to make out anyone on board, but when she squinted, she could just make out the flag unfurling in the wind. The ship was British. Charlotte sighed along with the rest of the passengers. There would be a hundred near misses like this in the days to come, and Charlotte hoped her nerves could withstand the tension.
The freckle-faced sailor was smiling and relaxed now. “One of ours, probably hoping to sail with us for a bit. It’s a small ship, not made for the open sea like this. Would you like to take a look, ma’am?” He offered the spyglass to Charlotte.
“Thank you,” she said, exchanging an excited look with Addy. Charlotte raised the glass and peered out over the ocean. At first there was only a blur of flat blue water, then sky, but gradually as she gained control of the glass, she focused on the ship. It was indeed a small yacht, one she would not expect to see this far from land. It looked familiar for some reason, but she could not place it. In any case, it was moving at a fast clip and would soon overtake them. She studied its sleek lines, noting very few sailors on deck. She scanned past one, then trained her glass back. The poor man looked to be violently seasick. His head was hanging over the side of the ship, his blond hair dangling in his eyes, and the ends of his cravat dancing in the wind.
Charlotte let out a shriek and stared harder. No wonder she recognized the ship. She’d sailed the Thames on it. With Freddie—the man hanging his head overboard.
Beside her there was another commotion, and she turned again to the freckled sailor. He indicated the flag the yacht had just raised. “They’ve just signaled to us that they want to pull alongside, and the captain’s allowing it.” The boy shook his head. “I don’t know who’s on that vessel, but he’s mighty important. Our captain doesn’t pause for no man.”
But the whole world seemed to stop when Freddie Dewhurst said the word. George knew, he’d turned her entire existence upside down. But could it really be he? And if it was, what did he want? Did he intend to drag her back to England? Try her for treason? She shivered, thinking of the cold look in his eyes when she’d pleaded for Cade’s life.
She could not bear to see him look at her so coldly again. She’d rather be drawn and quartered. It wouldn’t hurt half as much as the loss of Freddie’s love.
FREDDIE HAD BEEN FURIOUS when he’d discovered she was gone. Dash it if the woman wasn’t slippery as an eel. He turned his back for one moment!
And perhaps he was well rid of her. A woman who left after all they’d shared, after he’d opened his heart to her—well, perhaps he hadn’t exactly opened his heart. He’d wanted to, but in that moment, while she knelt beside Pettigru and begged Freddie with her eyes to love her back, he could not say the words.
He could not give up those last vestiges of control to her. And so he’d lost her—and when he’d realized it, that was even more terrifying than baring his heart to her. It was even worse than boarding a ship for a dashed sea voyage. If he survived, he would never let her go.
Stomach roiling at the very thought of what was to come, Freddie had called for his coach.
Now Freddie felt his stomach lurch again, and he made a valiant effort to keep the contentious organ inside his body. He was so green with sickness, he was even seeing green. Then he noticed that the green haziness before him was wearing boots. With effort, he looked from Sebastian’s green pantaloons, past his cousin’s orange waistcoat, to his smug face. “ ‘My love is like a fever, longing for that which longer nurseth the disease.’ Still feeling diseased, coz, or want something to eat? We’ve got greasy sausage or eel—”
Freddie practically flung himself back over the ship’s rail. When he’d heaved up his liver, he growled at Sebastian, “What do you want?”
“We’re ready to board the ship. If you have the strength to walk, that is. If not, perhaps we could play pirate and kidnap Charlotte?”
“No,” Freddie moaned. “I have my legs under me now.”
Those legs were wobbly and uncoordinated as a new colt’s, but with sheer determination of will, he crossed to the ship carrying his wife. That dashed ship was larger and not rocking as much as Sebastian’s yacht, so Freddie was able to survey the crowd gathered on deck. There were a few warmly dressed passengers and a gaggle of uniformed sailors. Everyone stared at him in wonder. But Freddie only cared for one person. He scanned the faces turned toward him, the lines of rigging, the polished deck. There, rising above the uniformed sailors and the pale travelers, was Addy, and then his heart tumbled into his stomach. She was there, standing a bit behind Addy, hidden by one of the masts. But her hair gave her away. The copper locks were caught by the wind and streaming out behind her.
Freddie took a step forward, and the people standing on the deck moved aside so that his path to Charlotte was clear. Seeming to sense that she’d been discovered, Charlotte took a small step forward as well.
She wasn’t hiding from him, and for that he was truly grateful. He didn’t know if he could have survived a long search for her.
“What can we help you with, my lord?” the captain asked. Freddie tried to hone in on the man’s voice, but he was unable to focus.
“I need passage on your ship,” Freddie answered, swallowing another bout of nausea. “I’ll pay my way.”
“You’ll be dead in two days. You’ve got the worst spell of seasickness I’ve ever seen.”
“No matter,” Freddie forced out. “I’m going to the col— America.”
He’d kept his gaze on Charlotte, hoping the sight of her would settle his stomach, and he was ready for battle when she pushed through the crowds to stand before him.
“What are you doing?” she said, managing to sound both concerned and exasperated.
“Going with you.”
Her jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
Freddie looked about him. “Are you certain?”
“But—but why?” she stammered. “You won’t like it in Charleston.”
“I am not convinced. I know a lady who waxes poetic when she speaks of the place.”
Charlotte shook her head in frustration. “But just because I like it doesn’t mean you will. The fashions are always behind, and my set doesn’t care half as much for all your silly social etiquette, and—and you just won’t like it.”
