A Woman Made for Sin (33 page)

November 4, 1816

Millie closed the door to her room and immediately slipped off her shoes and clothes,
until she was standing in her shift. She then pulled out the pins in her hair and
let the dark locks fall loose before climbing into bed. She knew she should comb it,
but like the previous two nights, all she wanted to do was crawl under the covers
and remind herself that she was safe—no one was after her. If Devlin had not decided
to walk her the entire way home, she suspected she might have caved in to her fears
and told Sasha that she was returning to her father’s. But Devlin had been there and
ensured she was safe. Unfortunately, his presence did not remove the uncomfortable
feeling that something evil was lurking over her shoulder, studying her, mapping out
her life so it could pounce when the opportunity came.

Millie curled up into a ball and reminded herself of all the reasons to stay and keep
hopeful. Most recently, it had been Madame Sasha’s crusty, extremely shy driver, Bernard.
He rarely spoke to anyone, so when he had waited in the hallway just outside her room
in order to ask her to join him for lunch in his room, Millie had agreed, despite
it being very improper. For Bernard to conquer his nerves enough to ask such a thing,
it had to be important.

All throughout their meal, he had asked question after question about Sasha. What
Millie knew of her past, what she liked, what made her laugh, what made her sad, until
Millie had divulged all the information that she had about her friend. It became clear
Sasha’s mysterious past was not just unknown to Millie but to all who lived in the
house. Seeing Bernard’s frustration, Millie explained that a man did not need to know
all a woman’s secrets to win her heart, he just needed to show a
willingness
to learn them.

After leaving him with several ideas on the next steps in his pursuit, Millie was
stopped by Henry, who specifically asked what she would like to eat for breakfast
the next morn. For several seconds, Millie was sure she just gaped at the man before
telling him that her favorite dish was his ham and potatoes. It was the truth. While
the heavy meal was not what she preferred to eat so early in the day, it was the best
thing Henry knew how to prepare.

She and Tommy only saw each other in the morning at breakfast, and they were both
so tired they only nodded to each other. Paulie and Susan continued to be aloof, but
they at least moved down to make room at the table. Evette was her normal self, never
shying away from pointing out when Millie was not acting the proper part.

The one person she could not quite figure out was Stuart. She had paid him to use
his contacts and monitor Hembree Grove for any information on Aimee. To date, the
servants only knew that runners were still being hired. Millie knew why: Charles was
still trying to learn what had happened to his younger sister.

She had tried to push Stuart into learning more, but the boy refused on the grounds
that to learn anything more, someone might get fired for divulging information, something
of which Stuart refused to be a part. A piece of Millie admired him for it.

The boy was very smart but he also spurned anything that would enable people to see
just how intelligent he was. When she realized Stuart read everything he could find,
she told him about Jennelle’s favorite booksellers, circulating libraries, and reading
rooms. As expected, Stuart had shrugged her off, saying those kinds of places only
catered to those with blunt. Instead of arguing with him, Millie had let Bernard know
that he might want to take Stuart over to Hatchards off Piccadilly if he ever got
the opportunity. Bernard had been quick to point out that he was too busy for such
matters, but the next time she saw Stuart, he had been carrying a new book she highly
suspected came from the bookseller she had recommended.

Even work had improved significantly. No longer did every muscle and joint ache for
hours after she got home. She was growing physically stronger, and though she would
never be able to carry as many mugs as Bessie because of her small hands, she could
now maintain a quick pace when things got busy. And things had gotten more active,
just as Clive predicted they would.

Even Bessie was nicer. Millie’s guard slowly came down and as it did, she began to
see things about her fellow server that she had not before. Most important was just
how much Bessie needed every tip she made. Living on her own, she assumed the entire
costs of coal, food, and shelter. She had only one dress, and when she washed it on
rainy days, it was not quite dry when she arrived to work.

But mostly Millie noticed that Bessie was no longer trying to horde all the best tippers—so
as Millie saw her income rise, Bessie’s was going down. Something in Millie’s mind
found it incredibly unfair. Plus, she knew it would eventually create problems between
her and Bessie again. So this evening, she had done something about it.

Before they left for the evening, Millie had called Bessie over to one of the far
tables and dumped out all her tips. After some persuasion, she convinced Bessie to
do the same. And without waiting to see if Bessie would agree, Millie combined the
pile and began dividing it in half. As she did so, she explained her reasoning.

“No one would dispute the claim that you are the better server. It would take years
for me to discover everything you have learned. Despite that, I’ve noticed that my
tips are higher, but you and I both know it is only because of what happened the other
night. Soon that memory will fade and my tips will quickly diminish. However, if we
combine the money we earn, then who is more successful or why is no longer relevant,
because we will both benefit.”

Bessie cocked a brow and said, “Little missy, you use a lot of words to say very little.”
But then she had licked her lips, and after a couple of seconds, sat down and helped
to divvy up the pile. “This here idea of yours just also might get me to help you
more, now won’t it, little missy.”

Millie said nothing and instead just smiled. For the first time, Bessie’s insult held
no bite. If anything, it contained a little bit of respect.

November 6, 1816

Aimee leaned against the rail and watched dockworkers load the colonial goods, rice,
and other agricultural products onto a ship while off-loading English manufactured
goods and Mediterranean wines. To her right, another large vessel in the narrow harbor
began to pull up its anchor in preparation to cast off. The
Sea Emerald
had moored just a few hours earlier, just as the sun was beginning to rise. Reece
had never made it to bed, as he had been up on deck to oversee the tricky navigation
up the Savannah River. By the number of voices and footsteps she had heard, most of
the men had been up on deck as well, either working at their assigned duties or just
eager to be near land again.

Part of her wished she could spend some time in Savannah. The small city was so very
different from London. The landscape was much flatter, and incredibly green. Aimee
inhaled and closed her eyes, wishing that the heavy burden on her heart would be miraculously
lifted. Her mind once again replayed incredible memories of the past couple of weeks
with Reece.

Only this morning, he had returned to his cabin to retrieve something, but before
leaving, he had walked over and kissed her gently, thinking she was asleep. It was
a very loving, instinctive gesture and it had almost been enough to change her mind
about leaving. It just proved in another small way that Reece did love her. If he
could only admit his feelings, they would have an incredible life together. One that
was pleasant during the day and wickedly playful at night. The past week had proven
that. But such happiness would not last, not as long as Reece believed as he did.

A successful marriage demanded more than love. It required a deep bond of friendship,
which was born from trust, loyalty, and acceptance. Too many of Society’s marriages
were based on status, money, or convenience. Husbands and wives were not friends,
but acquaintances. Friendship between two people, however, was a mutual bond. It could
not be forced. Aimee wanted her marriage to be the same, not just another arranged
union based on propriety. What Reece wanted was to be left alone. In his mind, he
already was married to the sea and it was enough for him. As a result, Reece was no
longer enough for her.

Aimee looked down at the small bag by her feet. Besides the gown she was wearing,
she had left all the feminine things Collins had given her neatly folded in his cabin.
All that she was taking with her were a few of the drawings and a couple of the figurines
the men had whittled for her.

She thought about the letter she had left on the desk in Reece’s cabin and wondered
what he would think when he read it. Would he agree with her decision? Be relieved?
Would he feel a few pangs of regret? Aimee hoped so. She wanted Reece to know what
he was losing. It was doubtful that he would anytime soon, but someday he would be
on his ship and on his beloved sea and feel not the peace and joy he did now, but
loneliness. And he would know that it was by his choice.

Aimee twitched her lip, wondering if such a yearning made her a smaller person. She
wished she could ask Millie and Jennelle their opinion. Not that it would change her
decision, but it would help to know that she had their support.

Loud, rapid clomping up a ramp got her attention. Aimee turned to see Mr. Collins
as he came over the ship’s gunwale and stepped onto the deck. She waved to him as
he sauntered over to her side. They both got a few sour looks from the crew, but no
one said anything.

“It’s all in place,” Collins told her. “I’ve spoken to Captain Shay and he assured
me that he and his wife would be happy to have you come aboard the
Sea Rebel
. They leave for London this afternoon.”

“His
wife
?” Aimee repeated, caught off guard by the possibility of having female companionship.

Collins bobbed his head. “Aye. Mrs. Shay travels with her husband quite a bit now
that their children are fully grown.”

“And the crew doesn’t mind?” Aimee asked, remembering the lecture Reece gave about
how a woman could be extremely disruptive to a ship’s order.

Collins let go a short snort. “Wouldn’t matter if they did. The men on the
Sea Rebel
are just lucky Mrs. Shay is nice, but even if she wasn’t, Captain Shay is not the
kind of man I would ever cross. Not even by accident.”

Aimee had not even thought about trying to familiarize herself with a new crew and
having to overcome superstitions about having a female aboard. It was nice to know
she would not have to.

“And, uh, I might have misled Mrs. Shay a little,” Collins added under his breath.

Aimee’s brows crinkled slightly. “How so?”

Collins’s face turned bright red as the nervousness he was feelingly became glaringly
apparent. “I just . . . well, I told her that your clothes were ruined and how you
were wearing some things left by um, uh, well, someone else. Mrs. Shay said that you
could get a couple of ready-made dresses at Sarah Henderson’s. Her place is off State
Street near Greene Square. Mrs. Shay told me to let you know that she will meet you
there in about an hour.”

He paused and took in a deep breath, obviously glad to have delivered that message.
He then pointed to a hunched-over man and a small girl sitting in a two-wheeled chaise-like
cart that was designed more for carrying lightweight goods than people. Collins winced
again, his expression one of regret. “I know you are used to traveling better, but
I know the man and he owes me a favor. He will get you to the shop safely and without
a problem. I’d take you myself, but—”

“No need, Mr. Collins,” Aimee quickly assured him. “The transportation you have procured
is more than adequate. Moreover, I appreciate you thinking about such matters, for
I had not.” Uncaring about propriety, Aimee reached out and squeezed his forearm.
“You have been very kind to me.”

Collins scowled. “I wasn’t always kind.”

Aimee let go and gave him a thoughtful smile. “I will only recall your kindness to
me, Mr. Collins. You are a good man. I hope the next woman aboard your ship causes
you much less grief and far more pleasure,” she added with a wink.

Collins could not help himself and laughed out loud, ease replacing his tension. “Not
possible, my lady.”

“And Mr. Hamilton,” Aimee said, realizing it was now her turn to feel awkward, “when
he returns . . . you will not have to tell him about my departure or your role. I
left a letter in his cabin explaining my reasons for leaving. I presume that he will
be relieved, but if not, his anger will be directed toward me. Neither you or any
of the men will lose their positions.”

Collins sighed and shook his head. He was not sure how the captain was going to react
to the news of her departure, but it was not going to be good. And when he learned
of the role his chief mate played, it would be worse. But Collins refused to ever
regret helping her. She not only gave the men hope of possibly finding a soul mate,
but him too. “My lady, I have no doubt that the captain may make it uncomfortable
for a while, but I doubt he’ll be firing the men because he’s in a bad mood.”

Aimee nodded, somewhat relieved to be reassured that Collins did not believe the crew
would be penalized once again because of her. “Then all is well and the quicker I
leave, the sooner life will return to normal on the
Sea Emerald
.”

Aimee reached down to pick up the small bag and when she stood back up, she glanced
around. Since they had moored, the crew had been very busy and most of the men were
not in sight. She was glad, for it would be hard enough walking away from the few
she could see. “I already told everyone I could find good-bye. Please tell the rest
that I will miss them and that my life is better for having known them.”

Collins gritted his jaw.
Her
life was better from knowing a bunch of dirty old seamen? He never thought that meeting
and spending time with a noblewoman would make him a worthier man, but it had. “No,
my lady. I didn’t realize it right away, but you being on board was a good thing.
We men . . . well, feel like this—the ship, the sea, each other—that it is the only
life we can have. That nary anybody but another old sea dog would ever take a kindness
to us, but you did. You gave the men hope that there might be a chance for more.”

Aimee blinked several times to keep the tears from falling, and then with a final
nod, she headed down the planks to the awaiting cart.

Collins watched silently as she said hello to the man and then spoke to the little
girl. He swore to himself never to repeat Reece’s mistake. When he became a captain
and found a woman willing to share the life with him, he would not be so shortsighted.
He would thank the Lord profusely and never let her regret loving him.

A grunt came from his left side and Collins stole a peek to see who it was before
returning his gaze to Aimee as she helped them adjust the cart to make room for her.

“She really is a lady, ain’t she?” asked Swivel Eye Stu, his voice mirroring the sadness
Collins felt.

“Aye.”

Stu shook his head. “I don’t think I really believed it until now.”

Collins did not have to ask Stu what he meant. He knew. Aimee had walked no differently
than she always had. Her mannerisms and interactions were the same, but now that she
was leaving, he could see what he had previously ignored. Aimee had a gracefulness
about her in the way she held her head and arms. No matter what she wore or looked
like, she was elegant.

Aye
, Collins thought to himself.
Our ship has just lost its lady and all aboard are going to feel her loss.

Reece bounded down the stairs and down the corridor leading to his cabin, eager to
find Aimee and depart for the church. He had left right after they docked, instructing
Collins to oversee things while he was gone. The plan had been to be back within two
hours, but nothing had gone right.

Another captain had cornered the harbormaster just as Reece arrived, forcing him to
wait his turn to discuss the
Sea Emerald
’s cargo. When he was finally able to leave, Reece discovered that finding a preacher
late Wednesday morning was far from an easy task. Few had residences near the harbor,
and those who did were meeting with their parishioners or out conducting church business.
With perseverance, Reece managed to locate one and was headed back to the ship when
he decided to return to town for a wedding ring. Though an uncommon custom, Aimee’s
mother had worn one and Reece wanted Aimee to have one as well. He knew she would
appreciate the thought, but it would also signify to anyone she ever met when he was
away at sea that both her heart and hand in marriage had been taken.

Impatient to surprise her with all he had arranged, Reece opened his cabin door without
knocking. Instantly he knew something was wrong. The room looked familiar—too familiar.
It was once again like it had been before he knew she was on board. Nothing of Aimee’s
was in sight.

He was about to leave when he spied a piece of paper folded on his desk. Tension flooded
his body. Reece forced himself to walk over and pick it up. Bringing it to the window
for more light, he read the contents, not skipping a single word until he was done.

Anger and fear raced through him, and for several minutes he could not think. He could
only feel. Not since the war had he needed to compartmentalize strong emotions. Slowly,
cold determination replaced the turbulent feelings. Putting the letter down, he walked
brusquely to the stairs and then to the upper deck. “Collins!” he barked.

Smiley heard the shout first and elbowed the chief mate in the ribs. Taking a deep
breath, Collins went to meet the captain on the upper deck, deciding this particular
reprimand was going to be in front of the crew and not in private.

“Where is she?” Reece hissed, the only indication of his inner turmoil.

Collins stood poised and unapologetic. His brown eyes locked to Reece’s blue ones.
“I helped her ladyship safely depart this morning.”

Reece took controlled breaths. “
When
did her ladyship make this request of you?”

“Three days ago.”

“And you did not think to tell me?”
Reece exploded.

Collins stood, refusing to move or give any sign of remorse or even guilt. “At the
time, Captain, you were expressing concern about being forced into a marriage and
later regretting it. Lady Wentworth believed she was doing you a favor by leaving,
for now you will not have to worry about either.”

The words hit Reece full force, and the coldness that he felt before once again washed
over him. “I have a mother, Collins. I don’t need another. Neither do I need a confessional
or guardian angel.”

“And I have no intention of being any of those things for
you
, Captain, but Lady Wentworth?” Collins said tersely, making it clear that Reece was
not the only one riled over the situation. “She needed someone to turn to for help,
and asking the man who didn’t want to marry her didn’t seem like an option. Now I
ask you, Captain, if you had been me, what would
you
have done?”

Reece bridled furiously. “I
never
said I didn’t want to marry her!”

Collins shook his head and then looked Reece in the eye, remembering the conversation
clearly. “You said you did not have a choice. That you feared regret. Perhaps Lady
Wentworth misunderstood what you meant, but then so did I.”

Collins’s anger-laced sarcasm and unhidden disgust were unmistakable, and again Reece
felt like he had been hit full force. This time in both the gut and the heart. “Not
to
her
,” he countered, shaking his head. “I never said any of that to Aimee.”

“Aye, it was to her.” Collins’s tone changed to one that was less sharp and more what
it should be as a chief mate. “She was at the door that night when we spoke, Captain.
I found her outside your room crying. Her ladyship overheard it all. And you had said
quite a bit.”