Don't forget to hurry to Amazon (Books) and download your Kindle copy of the reimagining of the original Ghost and Mrs Muir novel. But these are even better!

Lucie and the Captain

Lucie of Greystone Cottage

Lucie of Beacon Bay

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Chapter Thirty-Two

Schooner Bay Is Calling

"It will be good to see our home again," Carolyn said, as she stood at the ship's rail watching the mooring ropes being thrown aboard. "But I shall miss all of this. It has been amazing."

Sweeping her hand wide, she indicated the great city she'd visited for a brief few days. It was not enough. She longed to see more.

She and Daniel had attended parties and gone to see the opera one memorable night. They'd been driven sedately through Hyde Park with Mary Kearns in her carriage, meeting and greeting the new friends and acquaintances they'd recently made.

It had been another world, far removed from Schooner Bay and even her old life in Philadelphia. But it was now time to leave. Truly tide and time waited for no man or woman.

She quoted more of the William Wordsworth poem softly, "'Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie open unto the fields, and to the sky. All bright and glittering in the smokeless air…'"

She shook her head, knowing what her husband had told her about London also held true. There were indeed, two great cities. The one the poets wrote about with such fervour and the one she could see now.

A confusing jumble of people, buildings and ships blocked out the horizon. The early morning air was thick with a mixture of smoke, fog and the smell of muddy river brine. Noisy confusion seemed to be the one constant.

"Well, I for one, shall be truly glad to see my own bed again," Martha replied, standing beside her, holding a bouncing young Henry on one hip. "I still like my landlubber ways to those of the sea. But I will say it has been interesting. I've never seen so many well-heeled and fancily-dressed women."

"Yes, it will be good to be home again." Carolyn nodded, laying a hand over her abdomen as she turned to look up to the bridge where Daniel was supervising their steady withdrawal from the bustling Pool of London.

Making love with her husband within the privacy and opulence of their bedroom had been incredible. Her lips curved at the wanton memory of his teasing about her list of likes and dislikes even as he drove her onwards with both his body and voice over the edge of completion to tumble back down into the secure safety of his loving embrace.

His beguiling blue eyes had told her how much he'd enjoyed watching her move beneath him, making small noises and pleas for his mercy. He had not given it as they began again to strive for those same dizzying heights where every one of their limbs felt unbelievably weightless and replete. Warmth seeped into Carolyn's cheeks and she dipped her head so Martha could not guess at why her mistress was blushing so hotly.

They'd taken a fond farewell of the Admiral and his good lady. They promised to return with the next sailing or season. It did depend on where and how far their cargo took them.

The old boy was very pleased with his profits and made the success of their new venture known to all who would listen. Orders and cargo queries quickly began to roll in. It seemed the newly formed shipping company was going to be far busier and more profitable than anyone could have guessed.

Of course, Lucius was up and gone well before dawn. He vowed he wouldn't allow Daniel to get the better of him, not this time. He said he would see Boston first and be waiting at the docks for the return of the Carolyn.

Daniel stood beside the ship's wheel, watching his wife talking to Martha. He saw her cheeks flush with warm colour and he easily guessed the trend of her thoughts.

His mind also ran along the same lines. His whole body tightened with fresh need and wanting. But he had duties still to perform before they could be so private again. He dragged his eyes away from the temptation of watching her soft beauty shining in the early morning sunlight.

"We shall not allow Captain Beaumont to beat us," he remarked confidently to his first mate as they both stood next to the river pilot who was deftly guiding the ship downriver. "There would be no living with him."

Mr Jarvis grinned broadly. "We will not, Sir! Upon my honour!"

"Very well…" Daniel pointed downriver. "Then let us be about our business while we have a clear path and a fair wind, if you please!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!" Jarvis saluted before turning to forward his instructions to Malcolm and Jonathan, who waited behind him with keen faces and eager readiness to run.

※※※※※

Claymore paced back and forth before Gull Cottage, constantly pulling his watch from his waistcoat and checking it before pocketing it again with a frustrated sigh. He turned his head to glare through the open front door, willing someone - anyone - to appear.

"Come on, come on, come on…" he muttered crossly.

The wedding of his client's demanding daughter to her new husband had gone without a hitch. It had been a splendid affair and Claymore had wiped his brow with relief. He worried at how much it had cost him personally, but he could see a goodly profit would be his.

Now all that remained was to get them out of the house and make it all right again. But they dallied at leaving and Claymore was fast running out of both time and patience.

"What in the name of all that's holy is keeping them?" he demanded hotly. "Time is money. Time is money…"

The day was wearing on and they should have been aboard their waiting coaches and well on the road back to Philadelphia long before the hour of noon. But the bride was now feeling unwell and they waited on her better mood and consent to travel over the uneven roads back to her own home.

"Madness…" Claymore turned back toward the gate, running a frustrated hand around the back of his neck.

He paced down the stone path toward the stone wall where the five coaches waited, their horses tossing their heads impatiently. He frowned at them, not needing any more distractions.

As Claymore reached the gate one of the coachmen stretched his arms above his head before getting down from his driving seat. The coach horses moved restlessly, rolling their eyes and whickering uneasily as the man walked past them.

"Yes?" Claymore frowned as the man approached him, pulling at the brim of his large hat. "What do you want? If it's gold you're after, then you'll have to wait upon your master. I have nothing to give you."

That same faint whiff of sulphur tweaked at Claymore's nose. He dragged a handkerchief from his pocket and sneezed. He wiped his nose impatiently, glaring at the man.

The driver stared back at him with black, watchful eyes framed by his heavy-rimmed spectacles. "I have no need of his coin," he replied in a low, bored tone. "I have enough for my needs. More than enough." He smiled thinly, waving his whip slowly from side to side.

"Then what do you want?" Claymore demanded testily. " I have no time for confounded riddles. I already have a big enough headache."

"A simple favour." The driver shrugged, stilling the movement of his whip. "Nothing more." His expression was bland.

"Favours cost," Claymore grumbled. "And I'm fresh out of them. I've done enough lately and what do I have to show for them?"

He turned away. "Get back to your coach, man. You'll be needed soon enough." He glared at the house. "I hope…"

Instead of leaving, the driver moved closer, his voice lowering to a persuasive whisper. "Promise me a favour and I will ensure the man and his family leave the house and be in their coaches within moments. All will be as it was before. You need only to agree willingly to my simple request…"

"A favour, you say…" Claymore turned to him, greed starting to overcome his need to leave well enough alone.

The sneering look on the man's face made him shiver. But Claymore's growing impatience was greater than his troubling sense of caution. Something in the back of his mind whispered he should have nothing to do with this man. Send him on his way with a sharp word of dismissal and take his chances.

But the troubling look in the driver's black, fathomless eyes stayed his tongue. Then the man smiled as he began to wave the whip again lazily and Claymore's knees grew weak.

The other man's look said he saw and knew more than Claymore liked. Almost as if he was looking deep into his very soul.

But he felt unable to look away and his tongue seemed to have become glued to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth.

※※※※※

The Carolyn picked up speed as she sailed downriver, dodging the chaotic traffic and scenting the open channel and promised freedom beyond. She negotiated the treacherous sand bars and sailed past the gaunt skeletons marking the crumbling wrecks of the unwary.

The ship paused only to allow their river pilot to disembark and be rowed ashore to his station before the orders flew again and the ship turned her bow toward the open sea. The wind was fair and the sea calm on a bright spring day.

"Lady Fortune surely favours us, Sir," Nathaniel Grimes commented as he delivered earthenware mugs of Martha's good coffee to the bridge. "I see no sign of storms on the horizon."

"Then we can only hope the lady continues giving us her best face," Daniel replied as he took a mug gratefully, warming his chilled hands around it.

Mr Jarvis stowed his telescope beneath his arm before he accepted his mug from the ship's carpenter. "No sign of the Rebecca. She must have made good time."

Daniel shrugged. "Captain Beaumont has a score to settle. He doesn't like to lose."

Jarvis watched the carpenter walk away and down the stairs before he asked in a low tone, "You really believe that it was that scoundrel, Turner, who waylaid him? The men would not be like that demon to have sway in our new dealings."

"If Beaumont believes it then we must also." Daniel shrugged. "Though Turner has not been evident of late. Maybe he tarries elsewhere for now. Let him make his mischief at some other man's expense and leave us to go about our lawful business."

He walked to the rail to look down on his wife as she turned from the view of the rapidly passing shoreline and went below to look to her own domestic duties. "If the demon chooses to come near, then he will get more than he bargained for. I've a mind to shortening his pleasure in trying out his wiles. He stands in need of a good thrashing and I've a mind to give it to him."

"That I would like to see," Jarvis nodded as he raised his coffee mug in salute.

※※※※※

"Do we have a pact, then?" the coach driver asked Claymore in a sibilant tone, drawing one of his gloves off and holding out his hand. "A small matter of a favour in due course. What could it hurt? Take my hand and be done with this nonsense."

His ingratiating smile did not reach the darkness of his gleaming eyes. Tiny flames seemed to dance within their depths.

"I… I…" Claymore swallowed against the sudden constriction of his throat.

He stared down at the man's hand. It was deathly pale and the veins beneath the skin stood out as dark blue and unhealthy looking.

Again that faint whiff of sulphur teased at his nose. Behind them, the horses moved restlessly, blowing uneasily through their nostrils at the unholy stench.

"You are a man of some importance in the town," the driver continued enticingly. "You are a very busy man with a business to run. You should not be idling here like some lackey waiting on your master's largess. Not when I can help you out."

His smile widened as he waggled his fingers. "Strike a bargain with me. Take my hand and all shall be as you wish it. Think of the money that will fill your coffers. You do love money, right?"

Claymore frowned. "I am a frugal man. Why is that a crime?"

The other man shrugged. "I could give you more gold than you have ever dreamed of."

"That's a great deal of gold…" Claymore licked his lips, trapped between the two sides of his nature. "You have no idea of how much I can imagine." He smiled uneasily.

He knew he was beginning to weaken, his heartbeat accelerating at the idea of possessing so much wealth. He jerked his head toward the house. "You truly can get them all out of there and on the road?"

"In a trice or less." The driver assured him confidently. "All you have to do is shake my hand and agree to our little bargain. A small favour will be all I want when I ask for it. What could it possibly hurt?"

He eased closer. "If you do not, then things may not go your way and you will have some explaining to do about your recent actions."

"Explaining? To whom?" Claymore shuddered, hunching his shoulders inside his clothing.

He reached up to ease a finger around inside the sudden constriction of his necktie. He was already out of time. What more did he have to lose?

"Very well…" He inhaled deeply as he lifted his hand to shake the other man's.

"That's the ticket…" the driver crowed softly, reaching to make the connection with his victim. "Everything will be as you command it. You need not worry about another single thing. Never again…"

At that same moment, another coach swept around the bend in the road, drawing up sharply behind the row of waiting vehicles. Its arrival distracted Claymore's attention at the very last moment and he dropped his hand as he stepped forward to see who was inside the coach, quite forgetting to shake on their deal.

"Confounded humans!" The other man snarled, reaching to seize Claymore's shoulder as he passed him, trying to detain him.

Claymore turned to frown at him as he hurried out of reach, leaving the coach driver to swipe at nothing but the air. His muttered curses followed him.

The door of the newly-arrived coach flew open and Bradford Williams stepped down, looking at the rest of the vehicles with a heavy frown. Just then, the wedding party walked from the house, escorting the bride as she clung to her husband's arm with a handkerchief pressed to her pale lips.

"I don't like the seaside any more, Papa," she complained. "It smells funny. And I feel funny. I want to go home!"

"And you shall. It won't be long now, my darling…" Her father patted her hand comfortingly. "We'll have you home and tucked into your own bed before nightfall."

"Oh, my love…" her husband crooned, pale with concern. "I do so hate to see you in such a bad humour. This sea air has never agreed with me, either. I can become quite queasy just by looking at the water…"

"Gregg…" The girl's father nodded to Claymore as they passed him. He tossed him a large cloth bag that clinked with the sound of coins. "Our business is done?"

"Yes, sir…" Claymore caught the bag deftly, stowing it quickly into his coat pocket. "All done. It's been a pleasure," he lied with a straight face, touching two fingers to his temple.

Behind him, the black-eyed coach driver moved close as he drew on his glove again. "I did warn you that you will have some explaining to do about your recent actions," he remarked with satisfaction.

He fixed Claymore with a look that seemed to simmer with flames. "Now you will reap what you have sowed. And we could have made an excellent deal, you and I. But perhaps the punishment that lies in store for you will be worse than anything I could inflict on your sorry, miserable hide."

He saluted Claymore with the end of his whip. "Give my very best to your dear cousin when next you see him. Which will be much sooner than you think." He smiled leanly and shrugged as he walked away toward the coaches, causing all the horses to move restlessly and try to move as far from him as possible.

"What in God's name is the meaning of all of this?" Bradford Williams demanded as he walked up to the open gate, glaring at the house and then the hapless Claymore who was trying to make himself very small behind the crowd of wedding guests as they all began to get into their coaches.

※※※※※

Elroy Applegate performed his task of swabbing the deck with renewed confidence. He could now keep up with his fellows and felt he was, at last, pulling his weight aboard ship. Even his Captain had noticed and passed a favourable remark on Elroy's newly-found diligence to his two young teachers.

"I knew I could make my Captain and his pretty lady proud," he remarked happily to the two boys watching his progress along the deck.

"But you have to keep it up until we reach our home port," Malcolm advised guardedly. "Any slacking off or silly mistakes and you'll find yourself put ashore with a berth or any references. The Captain said so and he always keeps his word."

Elroy sighed as he began to swab faster. "I won't let you down! Honest Injun!" He paused briefly to knuckle his temple with one hand.

"See that you don't," Jonathan advised sharply. "No day-dreaming or watching the gulls. My mother vouched for you because she likes you. She won't like it if you get into any more trouble."

"No dawdling and no gulls," Elroy affirmed. "Got it!"

"Come on, Jonathan, we'd better get back to our duties." Malcolm stood up. "Before the Captain notices we're gone."

"All right. See ya, Elroy." Jonathan waved his hand at the crewman as both boys walked to the nearest hatch and disappeared below.

"See ya…" Elroy nodded, working his way along the deck after his fellows. "Swab the deck…" he muttered. "Don't slacken and don't make my Captain mad. Or his pretty lady sad."

Time passed and his arms began to tire of the constant side-to-side movement. He pushed back his tasselled cap to swipe a hand across his sweated brow. His empty belly began to rumble in protest. But the time to quit and eat had not yet been rung on the ship's bell.

"Swab the deck…" He sighed as his course and pace slowed further. "Don't watch the birds…"

Then he stopped altogether as he noticed the arrival of a rather bedraggled-looking gull that landed on the rail beside him. Elroy blinked, his brow creasing with quick concern.

He looked all around, seeing if there was anyone watching him. But the rest of the crew were occupied with their own duties.

"Just a few minutes…" He drew closer to the bird. "Look, it needs help…"

He could see a fish hook hanging from the side of the bird's beak. A length of fishing line trailed against its breast.

"Oh, are you hurt, little birdie…" he cooed, walking slowly forward. "Seaman Elroy Applegate won't hurt you. Honest…"

The bird stared at him, seeming to be asking for his help. Assistance he was always more than willing to give to any injured creature.

"Ohhh, that looks nasty…" Elroy inched closer still, quite forgetting his duties.

The bird stared at him with first one beady black eye and then the other. It seemed wary of his slow progress toward it but didn't move.

"There's a good gull…" Elroy whispered, drawing slowly closer. "There's a good bridie. Let Elroy help you with your troubles…"

Trailing his swab in one hand he reached out with the other, his fingers bare inches from it when the bird suddenly took fright and jumped into the air. Elroy managed to get two fingers to the fishing line, grasping it and causing the hook to pull away from the bird's beak.

The bird shrieked, startingly Elroy. He dropped his swab to flap his hand, trying to quieten it as the bird dropped from the rail in a long swoop out across the creaming waves and flew away.

Elroy was not so lucky. He tried to scramble back across the slippery deck as the ship suddenly heeled over against the change of the wind. But it was already too late.

The sudden movement caused Elroy to pitch forward, tripping over the handle of his discarded swab and he stumbled against the rail. He gave one single cry of despair as he lost his balance completely and tumbled headlong into the ocean below.

The Carolyn sailed on, uncaring and unseeing that one of her crew was being left behind, bobbing in her wake. Elroy fought to keep his head above the waves.

He waved frantically, hoping to be seen, but no face appeared at the rail and no alarm was sounded as the ship gathered speed before the freshening easterly wind carrying her out of the English Channel and into the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean.

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