Harlequin Historical November 2015, Box Set 2 of 2 (28 page)

Mary studied the crowded deck again, the people and luggage piled on every available inch, the snap of the sails overhead. Surely even the tiniest cabin was going to be a rare luxury on this long voyage.

A long voyage where she could run into Sebastian at any moment. Where there would be no place for her to hide her blushes.

‘That is most kind of you, Lieutenant Stanhope,' she said, taking a deep breath. She had long learned to never show her real feelings, her real fear.

‘Would you care for me to show you the way?' Lieutenant Stanhope asked. He glanced around, wringing his gloved hands together, and Mary knew he was very busy indeed.

‘I think I will keep watch here on deck for a bit longer, thank you. If I won't be in the way here,' she said.

‘Not at all. If you will just excuse me...'

As the captain hurried away, the last of the passengers, already dazed by the rough waters and the cold wind, landed on the deck. Sebastian was the last to appear.

He looked at Mary again, with that solemn, searching expression on his face. She couldn't fathom what he wanted from her, what he thought when he watched her. To make fun of her again? To hurt her? She was not the lonely girl she had been then; she wouldn't fall for that charm again.

She turned sharply away from him, from that sea-green gaze that seemed to see far too much, and hurried to a slightly quieter spot by the rail, where she could watch for her father.

From that distance, the chaos at the docks looked far removed, rather like the scurrying of a hive of bees. More carriages had arrived, getting lodged in the mud, and crates and trunks were growing in tottering piles as their owners ran between them. But Mary knew all too well the full seriousness of what she watched. A whole empire was being tumbled about, to land wherever they might, and the whole Continent would never be the same.

She peered across the bay at the Portuguese royal vessels, the ship of the line the
Principe Real
, meant to carry Dom Joao and his heir, and the others prepared for his wife, Doña Carlota, and all their royal relatives—if they appeared. She saw no signs of them yet, only the courtiers trying to find their own berths however they could.

She shivered again and drew the blanket closer around her.

‘Mary! Is it truly you? Oh, how glad I am to see a face I know!'

Mary spun around to see her friend Teresa running towards her across the crowded deck. Her usually impeccably fashionable appearance was rumpled, her black hair tumbling from its pins, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders as meagre protection against the cold. She dodged around aimlessly milling passengers, waving her hands above her head.

‘Teresa! I was worried about you,' Mary cried as Teresa threw her arms around her. Mary, too, was overjoyed to see a familiar face, to know a friend was there amid the chaos. ‘How did you get on the
Hibernia
?'

‘A stroke of only luck, I fear,' Teresa said. ‘Luis got us passes from Dom Joao for berths on the
Alfonso de Albuquerque
, with my mistress, Doña Carlota, but when we arrived at the docks we could make no one hear us. Such appalling treatment! Can you imagine?'

Mary thought of the man in the crooked wig and torn knee breeches, arguing that he had a pass. ‘I fear I can imagine all too well after what I've seen today. The docks are crowded with people desperate to get away. But thankfully you are here now and can share my cabin.'

Teresa shuddered. She wore only a thin muslin gown and silk spencer jacket with her shawl. Mary quickly wrapped her own blanket around her friend's shoulders. ‘I have never imagined anything like it. My aunt, who was a nun, would have said it was the end of days. But
you
saved us, my friend!'

‘Me?' Mary said in disbelief.

‘Of course. I saw a man in one of your English naval uniforms and I told him I knew you and your father. He made sure we were loaded into a skiff that was just leaving, and here we are, safely away.'

‘We?'

‘Luis, of course. He pushed our way through that fearful crowd.' Teresa peered over Mary's shoulder at the crowd around them and waved.

Mary glanced back to see Teresa's brother making his way towards them. He was so tall and dark, so dashing, that ladies all around the deck stopped to peek at him, despite the fearful circumstances.

‘Miss Manning! Our heroine.' He dramatically caught up her hand and bowed over it, making her laugh. She saw why all Lisbon was so charmed by the Fernandes siblings; they made her forget even her own worries, if only for a moment. ‘Teresa was most clever to use your name. Surely you can open all doors in this English world.'

Mary laughed. ‘Not all, I fear.' She couldn't solve her own lingering feelings for Sebastian Barrett, though she was determined she
would
conquer it, one way or another. ‘But I am glad I could help you make it here safely, even if only in a very small way.'

‘Not small at all.' He kissed her hand again and Mary suddenly glimpsed Sebastian further along the rail, watching her and Luis. She couldn't read his expression at all.

Mr Nicholas Warren appeared at Luis's shoulder, blocking Mary's glimpse of Sebastian. She smiled at him, grateful for the distraction.

‘Miss Manning!' Mr Warren cried. ‘You arrived safely after all, thank goodness.'

‘And you, Mr Warren. Everything does seem most uncertain today,' Mary answered, carefully sliding her hand out of Luis's. She smiled politely at Mr Warren, even as she still remembered all too well he had been one of Sebastian's wild friends in London. ‘Do you remember my friend, Doña Teresa Fernandes, and her brother, Dom Luis? I believe you met at the Regent's ball. This is Mr Nicholas Warren, a member of the English delegation with my father. It seems we are to travel together.'

Mr Warren turned to Teresa—and his bluff, handsome face reddened, as so many men's did when faced with Teresa's Portuguese beauty. He gave a hasty bow. ‘I haven't—that is, I am most happy to have the pleasure again, Doña Teresa,' he stammered.

Teresa offered him her hand with a bright smile, as if she was in a ballroom and not on the deck of a chaotic ship. Mary couldn't help but admire such sang-froid. ‘I am sorry our meeting must be under such trying circumstances, Mr Warren. I fear I am not at my best.'

‘I think then I should be most nervous to see what your best could be, Doña Teresa,' he said with a nervous laugh. ‘It must be quite fearsome.'

‘They are here! The royal family has arrived!' The cry flew along the deck like a rush of cold wind. Mary was suddenly jostled, pushed up close to the rail as everyone strained for a glimpse of Dom Joao and his family, on whom this whole enormous risk rested.

Mary held up her hand against the grey glare of the light, but all she could see was a line of large, luxurious carriages lumbering towards the docks, jostled on all sides by the desperate crowds still ashore.

Suddenly the danger, the running out of precious time, seemed all too real.

She felt a warm touch on her arm and glanced up to see Sebastian had somehow made his way to her side. His face was still expressionless, his eyes such a dark green as he looked down at her. He silently held out to her a telescope. She slowly accepted it, unsure, but strangely hopeful.

She turned away, all too aware of him standing close to her, as he had on the skiff. The scent of him seemed to wrap around her on the cold breeze and it steadied her. She lifted the telescope and studied the scene on shore, suddenly amplified through the tiny glass.

It looked even more wild than before, a swarm of people whose desperation was palpable even across the turbulent waves. The skies overhead were filling with swirling clouds and the ships rode low, as if becoming dangerously overloaded. No one wanted to be left behind, especially now as the moments flew by.

Even Mary had been unable to fully realise the magnitude of what was happening, after all she had seen in her travels with her father, all she had heard in the last few days about Napoleon's armies creeping closer. Now here were the royal carriages. They were truly going.

Mary remembered royal ceremonies she had attended in the past, the gold and velvet, the music and the canopies of state, the great processions. There was none of that now. Now, as she watched through Sebastian's telescope, the black carriages, marked with the Braganza arms on the doors, lurched to a halt next to a mere gangway lodged in the mud that led to a large skiff.

With no fanfare at all, the portly figure of Dom Joao emerged, wrapped in a cloak, followed by his son, the lanky Prince Pedro Carlos, and a few servants. They were hastily bundled into the boat, surrounded by British officers.

A procession of courtiers followed, servants carrying little princes and princesses, elderly royal aunts blinking in the light as if still bewildered and the Prince's wife, Doña Carlota. She was still as short and stout as ever, wrapped in a bright red cloak, her head crowned with a yellow-satin turban that made her stand out from the others, much more grandly dressed than her husband. She stopped and looked around as if she expected more ceremony, but none was forthcoming, even for her.

Like her husband, she was carried on to a boat and hastily rowed out to the Portuguese ships that awaited them.

‘I hope they don't put the Prince and his wife on the same vessel,' Mr Warren commented. ‘Their quarrels will swamp everyone before they even reach Madeira!'

‘Senhor Warren!' Teresa cried. ‘How dare you?'

‘Senhorita Fernandes is lady-in-waiting to Doña Carlota,' Mary said quietly, still watching as one last carriage arrived, buffeted on all sides by the crowds.

‘Oh!' Mr Warren gasped. ‘I do apologise, Senhorita Fernandes. I meant no disrespect at all.'

Teresa laughed. ‘I am sure you say nothing everyone else merely thinks. My mistress is not—fond of her husband.'

‘I believe Doña Carlota is to be aboard the
Albuquerque
with two of her daughters,' Sebastian said. ‘I think she will not see the Prince Regent until we arrive in Salvador.'

Mary still watched the last carriage, trying to stop herself from being pushed against Sebastian. No one at first emerged as the carriage doors were opened and she sensed the breathless tension as everyone waited to see what would happen now. It was like a particularly unpredictable play, one where anything at all could happen at any moment.

For a moment, she could see little but the swirling grey and black of the crowd on the docks. At last a man in the ornate livery of the Braganza family, all blue and gold in the gloom, reached inside the carriage and pulled out a tiny, struggling white-haired woman in a black gown and mantilla.

‘Queen Maria,' Teresa said in a stunned whisper.

It was indeed the Mad Queen, fighting at every step. At last she was loaded into a boat with her attendants and the royal family was all gone from the shore.

Mary lowered the telescope, holding her breath. Sebastian still stood beside her and she hated to admit the feeling of security it gave her to know he was there. If
he
was the only safety in the world now, things were topsy-turvy indeed.

‘We shall not weigh anchor until the morning tide, I would think,' Stanhope said, studying the clouds swirling overhead. ‘If the weather holds, that is. Ladies, would you prefer to wait in your cabin? It will be a bit warmer there.' He was all politeness, but Mary could tell he wanted them out of the way of the business that had to be done to get them out of Lisbon.

‘Oh, yes, thank you,' Teresa said with one of her bright smiles. She briefly rested her hand on the lieutenant's sleeve and Mary couldn't help but notice how Mr Warren was watching, his face growing red again. Teresa did have that effect on men.

But not, it seemed, on Sebastian Barrett. He still watched Mary and she turned away, flustered.

‘I shall wait just a little longer for my father,' Mary said. ‘But you go ahead, Teresa. I will meet you there soon.'

‘Surely it is too cold to wait on deck, Miss Manning,' Sebastian said. ‘You could catch a chill.'

Was that concern he tried to put into his tone? Mary whirled around to face him, afraid she was all too prone to falling for that, for
him
, all over again if she was not careful. But surely she was not that silly girl she had been in London now. ‘You can have no concern as to whether I am too cold or not, really, Lord Sebastian. You must have far more important concerns to occupy you at the present.'

His jaw tightened. ‘Miss Manning. I only wish for your comfort.'

He had not cared at all for her ‘comfort' in London and she shivered as she remembered how foolishly hurt she had once been to learn that. She glared up at him and he frowned as he looked back at her. They seemed bound in an instant of silence, amid all the tumult around them, and she found she couldn't break away.

‘I can stay with Miss Manning until her father arrives,' Luis said smoothly, sliding next to Mary to lay his hand on her arm. He smiled politely at Sebastian.

Mary felt her cheeks turn warm, despite the cold breeze, and was deeply disconcerted to find that Sebastian Barrett could still affect her thus. She turned back to the railing and stared down at the swirling grey water far below.

‘Thank you, Senhor Fernandes,' she murmured. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sebastian give a small bow before he strode away with some of the officers. Mr Warren led Teresa off towards their cabin and for a moment Mary felt very alone there at the ship's railing.

‘I have heard great tales of Brazil,' Luis said. ‘That there is sun every day and coconuts as big as man's head falling straight off trees. Ocean water as warm as a bath and music everywhere.'

Mary could tell he was trying to distract her and she was grateful. He was so handsome and charming, every lady in Lisbon seemed half in love with Luis Fernandes, and the fact that he would take time to talk to his sister's friend was kind.