I’m thrilled to be going home, though I wish that didn’t mean I must bid farewell to you, dearest Jane.”
The arms embracing Lorena stiffened as Jane gave a frightened scream. Lorena glanced into her friend’s face, then whirled in the direction of her horrified stare. George had a pistol trained on Brogan.
How could this be? Fear squeezed her heart until it felt she could scarcely draw a breath. George was guilty of many selfish acts, but he wasn’t a murderer. Was he? Lorena just didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Brogan eyed him unflinchingly. “Let me caution you to think this through, Louder. You may shoot me, but you still won’t have Lorena. My crew have been trained in battle. Formerly privateersmen all . . . pirates, as you prefer to label us. Think what they’ll do should you harm me. I would not be surprised if my chief mate didn’t have a musket trained on you this very moment. And Captain Winsor won’t protect you once you’ve fired that pistol.”
“He’s correct, Mr. Louder.” Captain Winsor stretched forth his hand. “This action is most ill-advised, sir. Return me my weapon.”
“Think of your hopes and dreams.” Lorena stepped closer, but Brogan warded her off with a raised hand. “Think of the prosperous future you’ve planned for yourself in England. Look at me, George. Do you really want to sacrifice everything you’ve worked your entire life for—your freedom and maybe your life—all for an impulsive moment of retaliation against Captain Talvis?”
The pistol began to tremble in George’s hand. “You were wrong about me, Lorena,” he said, though he kept his focus on Brogan. “I do recognize how precious you are. My love has always been true. Know that. And that I wish you happy. I-I-I’m sorry.”
Lorena was taken off guard. “George, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I do believe, for the first time, you may actually be sincere.”
George nodded. “I am.”
“Then I accept your apology. Drop the pistol, George.”
He hung his head and his arm went limp. Brogan snatched away the pistol while Captain Winsor’s men seized George from behind.
Brogan returned the weapon to the Lady Julia’s captain. “We shall leave immediately, sir,” he said.
Captain Winsor gave a grave nod. “That would be most advisable.”
Jane and her family followed Lorena to the gangway. Below, the longboat bobbed and rolled on the waves splashing against the Lady Julia’s side. Three pairs of seamen sat at the oars.
Jane blinked back moisture from her eyes. “I will miss you, Lorena Huntley. Perhaps it is selfish of me to feel saddened to see you go, but this voyage shall seem lonely without you. Go with God’s blessing. It’s good to see a smile on your face.”
Lorena nodded, sobered by how quickly fortune had turned around for her since only that morning. “I shall miss you too, Jane. Please take my day dress and spencer. I wish it were more of an offering, but at the very least, you will have my dress and I shall have yours . . . as a remembrance. Not that I’ll need a reminder of you. I’ll never forget your care of me throughout this misadventure of mine. I’ve been blessed to have met you kind Ellerys,” she added with a smile for Thomas and Matthew, “and now to be returning home. Good-bye, Jane, Thomas, Matthew. God see you all safely to England.”
“And you, Miss Huntley,” Thomas returned, draping an arm across his brother’s shoulders so as to include the young man in the sentiment. “Godspeed.”
Matthew gave her a shy smile. “I swear I shall never taste an equal to your mince pie.”
Lorena glanced behind to hide a smile and found Brogan overseeing the hauling of gifts of vintage port, coffee, teas, cheeses, and fruit up from the longboat, which he then bestowed on Captain Winsor.
He’d come to her rescue when he’d no obligation to do so. When not even the delicate affection of their budding friendship would have warranted the expense and inconvenience of taking the Yankee Heart on this unexpected maiden voyage.
He was a fine man, as it turned out, despite their early confrontations. Yet so much more than his charity attracted her. Lorena admired him in profile, speaking with Captain Winsor as a lock of sandy hair fell across his brow to partially cover one eye. His was a strong, masculine face. An appearance made all the more authoritative by the proud set of his shoulders and a masterful stance that reached into his black leather Hessians.
I adore him.
With that thought came a new and startling sensation that had every cell in her body stirring to life and bubbling with excitement. Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Still, the truth remained. Lorena craved nothing more than to be sheltered in the protection of his arms.