A Woman Made for Sin (18 page)

Reece sat immobile.
Just who was this woman?
He had not thought to meet her, but now he was more than a little curious. “Sure
she is a woman?” he asked, thinking how some girls were unladylike, boisterous females
who tended to look and act more like a boy than a girl. It was hard to believe a hoyden
would entice one of the men to bring her on board, but then again it was not beyond
the realm of possibility.

Collins broke out into chuckles that led to a coughing attack. When he could finally
speak, he said, “Uh, no, Captain. She’s many things, but she is
definitely
a woman.”

Reece offered Collins a wry, tight-lipped smile. “Think I just might have to meet
her.”

“Just say the word,” Collins whispered, leaning back in his chair.

Reece could have sworn he saw a shiver of fear go down Collins’s back. The man was
obviously at odds. “No need. Things are good with the men so far. Let’s not mess with
that, especially with a storm coming. Don’t need another storm on the boat.”

Collins rocked forward. “And just what about the storms we leave back at home?”

Reece blinked. Collins was not a man to pry into another man’s privacy without reason.
“Just what do you mean?”

Collins shrugged. “I mean the woman who drives you to leave your home so often. I
like the sea as much as you—all the men do. But that don’t mean we don’t want to spend
at least
some
time on land. A few of the men have homes . . . wives . . . families. Something you
should consider starting.”

Immediately, the image of Aimee swam before Reece. He had hoped avoiding her when
he was in London would help him to forget, but even after ten months, he could remember
every second of his last encounter with her, as if it had just happened. More than
anything, he wished it were possible to have her as his own, but he was made for the
sea. Aimee was not. She would never understand the pull of the open water. It left
him no choice. He would stay away until Aimee was happily married to some nobleman
with a title, a fancy home, and a pretty purse to match. Only then, when she was permanently
out of reach, would he risk seeing her again.

“Then those men are lucky, Collins. My luck ran out with the war. I came out alive.
I also was able to gather enough money to build this boat and start a shipping company.
But that’s where my luck ran out. Pretending otherwise is a fool’s errand.”

“You know, Captain, a lot of men in your position bring their wives on board.”

Reece scoffed. The idea of bringing Aimee aboard a ship was ludicrous. He could not
envision it. Beautiful women belonged in Society, not away from creature comforts.
And his crew. Some of them would undoubtedly fawn all over her, but others would eat
her alive. Aimee was no match for these hardened men. One hour in their company and
she would be miserable. “If you knew the woman keeping me away, Collins, you would
know how impossible that notion is.”

“How do you know that, Captain? Have you asked?”

“I just do,” Reece growled out. “You don’t know her background, but trust me, she
does
not
belong on a ship.”

Collins refused to back down. “Women are a surprising lot. They are used to harder
work than we realize.”

Reece’s laughter filled the cabin, but it held no joy. “You talk as if I am interested
in a farmer’s daughter. Hell, Collins, it would be unthinkable if she was the daughter
of a gentleman.”

Collins furrowed his brows. “I don’t understand.”

Reece leaned forward and rested his arms on either side of his dinner plate. “Then
let me be clear. My best friend fell in love and became besotted—and when I say besotted,
I mean completely incoherent. He thinks I don’t understand, but he’s wrong. I do.
For I did the same damn thing just a few months before he did. I fell in love and
every damn day I crave to be with her again, but I cannot. Even if I was willing to
give up the sea . . . I cannot. She is not only the sister of my best friend but the
daughter of the late Marquess of Chaselton.”

Silence filled the cabin as Collins digested what he’d just learned. He had known
most of what the captain said through snippets of earlier conversations. But
marquess
? That was damn close to a duke, and that was practically royalty. Hell, if she was
the daughter of a marquess, Aimee probably had been presented in court and knew the
royals personally.

“Lady Wentworth would no more set foot on this ship than the Queen of England,” Reece
continued. “If you ever saw her, you would realize I am not exaggerating when I say
she could have anyone.”

“But . . . but what about her? I had the impression that you thought she felt something
for you in return.”

“Even if she wanted to, her brother and I would prevent it. This way of life is dirty
and somewhat dangerous. And as the second son of a lord, I have no title. I have nothing
to offer. I’m just a man fortunate enough to be able to make money in a trade he loves.
She is a dream that I hope will fade with time.”

Collins stared into Reece’s despondent blue eyes. He had thought to perhaps guide
the captain into thinking of the possibilities—the positive aspects of finding Aimee
on board—but the more the captain spoke, the more he made one thing clear:
He and everyone else on board his boat was soon going to be dead.

And the deaths they were going to endure were going to make hell look like a welcome
reprieve.

Sasha lit another candle to counter the dark shadows in the room. She had hoped Millie
and Evette would have arrived earlier in the day, but with the uncooperative weather
it was lucky they made it in at all.

“Did you get enough to eat?” Sasha asked. Tonight they’d had some leftover bread and
meat, but it was not enough to feed three people. Thankfully, Bernard had volunteered
to go out and get something.

Evette had taken her plate to her room, while Millie had sat in the front parlor laying
out her entire plan to Madame Sasha in between bites.

“Yes. Thank you, and I know you are soon to tire of hearing the words, but I truly
am grateful you were willing to bring me here,” Millie replied. “But as you just heard,
I need even more assistance. Will you provide it?”

“Not can I, but will I,” Sasha murmured to herself. She sat back and stared reflectively
at the young beauty she had met a little over six months ago. Over the years, she
had come to know of all three girls through one of her most trusted confidantes, the
Dowager Marchioness of Chaselton. And like Cecilia, the current Marchioness of Chaselton
had a wild spirit and a fearless soul. Last spring, being around Millie and her friends,
Sasha had felt in many ways reborn, remembering her youthful and oftentimes foolhardy
quest to experience all that life had to offer.

The Daring Three had been spellbound by her exuberant stories of life in the Russian
court, unaware that not a one she had told was fiction but actually based on her own
rich, unorthodox life. As a result, she might have indirectly as well as openly encouraged
them to continue having adventures of their own—helping them with racy Vauxhall costumes,
providing an occasional firearm, and enabling one of them to ensnare one of the Season’s
most eligible bachelors. Regrettably, the three young women were also learning, just
as she had, that such inclinations sometimes had unfortunate consequences.

“Will you help me?” Millie asked for the third time.

Sasha tapped her fingers together, which—like her face—looked far more youthful than
her sixty-one years. Her somewhat petite and rounded figure hinted at a previously
curvaceous body, but only her graying brown hair reflected her true age.

“It is not that what you ask of me is difficult. It is that I’m not sure it is wise,”
Sasha began, her Russian accent more pronounced than usual. “Helping you come to London
unseen is one thing, but what you are proposing is quite another. There are professionals
for what you propose.”

“And my husband hired them.”

“And he has learned nothing in the past two weeks?”

Millie shook her head. “He has not written me one letter, and I am sure he would have
if he had any news.”
And neither has Elda Mae
, she added to herself.

Sasha’s expression went grim. If Chaselton had not written his wife, then far more
was going on than Millie was aware of. Someday Millie would learn to recognize when
he was keeping secrets, but until then, she needed help in making her husband realize
that keeping such confidences was rarely rewarding.

“Your plan to find Aimee yourself is, well, simply put . . . it is dangerous. Those
who make a living on the docks work especially hard, and they drink and play hard
as well. Most are unfamiliar with the rules of gentlemanly behavior, and the rest
have no interest in adhering to them.”

“I’m not looking for gentlemen, Madame Sasha, and I am not trying to rescue Aimee.
I’m only looking for answers as to who took her. There must be someone you know who
might be willing to help me.”

“There may be,
da
. But they would need to trust you, and that would take more time than you have.”

Millie looked Sasha squarely in the eye and said without doubt, “But they know and
trust
you
.”

Sasha twisted her lips to one side. To deny Millie’s assertion was pointless; Millie
would never believe otherwise because it was true.

Sasha did have a rapport with several of the business owners who made a living along
the docks. And as soon as she heard about Aimee going missing, she had conducted her
own investigation. While she had been unable to confirm whether or not Aimee was safely
aboard the
Sea Emerald,
Sasha did learn that there had been inquiries a couple of weeks ago concerning that
same pinnace. After hearing the same tales that were told to Chaselton and his runner,
she surmised Aimee was most likely safe.

The reason he had not told his wife what he learned was probably the same reason he
had not written her. However, it was also unlikely he had written his mother, and
Cecelia would want to know about her daughter’s latest caper. Sasha would send word
immediately, but until Cecelia returned, Sasha was going to have to act in her place.
And she was not sure just how to proceed.

“I also must take into consideration the others who live here. This favor you are
asking does not affect just yourself, but those in this house. And if something goes
ill, then they will have to live with the consequences long after you’re gone.”

Millie tried one last plea. “Madame Sasha, I realize I am placing you in a difficult
position asking for your help, but please understand that I intend to conduct this
search even if I have to rent a place of my own.”

Sasha examined the countenance of the woman sitting across from her. It was the same
expression Sasha had worn when she made a decision that had changed her life forever.
And while such willfulness and determination had brought her much heartache, Sasha
knew that it had also enriched her life immeasurably. She would not go back and change
her decision, even if she could.

Her original plan had been to tell Millie all of what she knew concerning Aimee and
then persuade the young woman to join her husband. But now that Millie was here, Sasha
no longer thought that was in the best interest of the couple. Chaselton would still
keep his secrets and Millie would continue to take risks without considering him.

Sasha inhaled slowly and contemplated the problem before her.
What would Cecelia do?
she asked herself, and immediately knew the answer. Cecelia would say that more than
one person could learn a lesson if this situation was handled correctly.

With a smile, Sasha exhaled just as slowly, as a new plan formed. It was not often
one had the opportunity to walk in another’s footsteps, and Sasha just might have
a way Millie could do so safely. It would help assuage any misplaced guilt and give
her something to focus on until either Aimee returned or Chaselton came to his senses.
And living here, Sasha hoped her tenants would learn just as much from the marchioness
as she would from them.

Having made a decision, Sasha rose to her feet. “I will help you, but on one condition.
I know someone who owns a tavern on the docks and owes me a favor. If he likes you,
he may give you employment. If he refuses, then you must return to your life as a
lady and wait to discover the fate of Aimee.”

Sasha studied the serious face looking back at her. She was actually proud of Millie
for thinking about her answer before she spoke. For Sasha had meant what she said.
There were lots of places for employment around the docks, but Sasha knew of only
one where the owner looked out for the women who worked for him. It was not far and
the route was well used and lit at night by the linkmen. Working there would still
have risks, but life’s best lessons were learned when one took uncomfortable chances.

Millie frowned and considered the proposition. She did not like it, but deep down
she also knew Madame Sasha’s offer was her best chance at having her plan succeed.
She was entering a way of life that was completely foreign. To ignore the proposal
of a person she had gone to for help would not be just reckless, it would mean failure.

Millie licked her lips and nodded once. “I accept.”

Sasha produced a small smile, satisfied that Cecelia would approve of her solution
and her decision to withhold what she knew of Aimee. Deep down, Millie knew the truth,
but it did not lessen her need to be active, especially while estranged from her husband.
“Clive Langdon owns a tavern frequented by dock workers. He usually has two women
working for him at night, but Clarice married and moved back north to be closer to
family. So he needs someone to take her place. While gruff and demanding, he is a
good man and protects the women working for him. Dock workers know this, but they
still frequent his place because Clive is honest and used to be one of them. But it’s
still a boozing ken and that makes it dangerous and open to a fair share of trouble.”