Chapter Four
“Have you thought of something yet? We’re down to two days before we sail, and now neither Jack nor George intends to join us thanks to your wife’s intransigence,” James said as he landed a hard jab to Anthony’s chin that moved his brother back a step.
Word had spread fast in the neighborhood when the Malory brothers were seen going into Knighton’s Hall together. The seats around the ring were already filled as if this fight had been scheduled. A crowd was at the door fighting to get in. Knighton had thrown up his hands and stopped trying to prevent access. Anthony, the youngest Malory brother, had been coming to Knighton’s for most of his life for exercise in the ring, but his fights weren’t very exciting since he never lost—unless his brother James stepped into the ring with him. No one ever knew which brother would win, and thus bets were flying about the hall today.
Anthony’s black brows narrowed on his brother. “No, and you can stop taking your frustration out on me.”
“But who better?” James said drily, and another hard right landed. “What about now?”
“Blister it, James, it ain’t my bloody fault.”
“Of course it is, dear boy. You are the only one capable of talking your wife around. Lost your touch? Good God, you have, haven’t you?”
Anthony got in a solid punch to James’s midsection for that slur, followed by an uppercut. Neither one moved James Malory, who had been likened to a brick wall more’n once by men who had tried to defeat him, his brothers included. But Anthony was knocked off his feet with James’s next blow, deciding the matter of his giving up this round. Bloody hell. James won too easily when he was annoyed. But Anthony was saved from having to concede when his driver climbed up on the side of the ring and waved for his attention. Seeing the man as well, James stepped back.
Anthony got up to fetch the note his man was waving at him, reading it as he returned to James in the middle of the ring. He snorted before he told James, “Judy suggests I save my face a bruising today and come home to pack. Apparently, Ros has given in.”
James started to laugh at the good news, which was how Anthony caught him off guard with a punch that landed his older brother on his arse. But James’s own annoyance was completely gone now with the unexpected news, so he merely raised a golden brow from his position on the floor to inquire, “Then what was that for?”
“Because now I’m no doubt in the doghouse,” Anthony grumbled, though he offered James a hand up. “I don’t know who changed her mind or how they did it, but I know I’ll end up catching her anger for it.”
“Then it’s just as well you’ll be sailing with us and your wife will be staying home. She will have more’n enough time to calm down before we return.”
Both men knew that Roslynn wouldn’t sail with them because of her seasickness. She and Anthony’s younger daughter, Jaime, suffered from the same malady, so even if Roslynn was willing to endure the discomfort for Judy’s sake, she wouldn’t subject Jaime to it again. Nor would she leave Jaime at home alone for the two months they expected to be gone.
But James noted that his remark didn’t seem to ease his brother’s concern. “Come on, old man, don’t tell me London’s most notorious rake can’t redirect a lady’s anger into passion of another sort,” James said as he leaned forward to take his brother’s proffered hand.
Anthony abruptly withdrew it. “It’s against my code of honor to hit a man when he’s down, but I could make an exception just for you.”
James chuckled as he rose to his feet. “I’ll pass on that favor. Don’t want Judy to think her message didn’t get to you in good time.”
? ? ?
In the middle of the Atlantic, The Nereus was making good headway toward Bridgeport, Connecticut. While the Andersons’ family business, Skylark Shipping, had many ships in its fleet, each sibling also had one of his or her own, and The Nereus was owned and captained by Warren, the second-oldest Anderson brother and Amy Malory’s adoring husband. The couple spent half of the year at sea, along with their children, Eric, and the twins, Glorianna and Stuart, and of course the children’s tutors. The other half of the year they spent in their house in London so their children could get to know their large family.
Amy was basking in the spring sun on deck, despite the wind’s being nippy. As the only woman in the Anderson family who had experienced a successful social Season in London, she’d been asked by the Anderson brothers to plan the social events for Jacqueline’s two-week visit to Bridgeport. Of course, Drew Anderson’s wife, Gabby, had had a London social debut, but it had been cut short and turned into a scandalous disaster by Drew, so she couldn’t offer much advice about come-out parties. Amy wasn’t simply relying on her own experience. She had conferred with her cousin Regina, the Malory family’s expert in social events.
Amy had to get the Anderson family home ready for these events. She had to plan the menus and send out the invitations. Warren would help her with the invitations since he knew whom to include. Although Amy had been to Bridgeport with him dozens of times over the years and had met many of the Andersons’ friends and acquaintances, she couldn’t be expected to remember them all. Yet everything had to be perfect before Jacqueline and her parents arrived.
Her own children were more excited about this trip than she was, since they were going to get to attend each event. In England they’d have to wait until they were eighteen to be included among the adults, but in America rules like that didn’t apply. Amy was too frazzled to be excited. So many things to do, so many lists to make.
With so much on her mind, she almost didn’t notice the feeling that started to intrude, and then she did, doubling over from it, as if she’d received a blow to her stomach. Warren, approaching her from behind, noticed and was instantly alarmed.
He put his hands gently on her back. “What sort of pain is it, sweetheart?”
“No pain.”
“Then . . . ?”
“Something—bad—is going to happen.”
Warren immediately looked up at the sky for an approaching storm that might cripple them, but not a dark cloud was in sight. “When?”
“I don’t know.”
“What?”
“I don’t know!”
He sighed. “If you’re going to have these feelings, I really wish you could interpret them more specifically.”
“You always say that. And it never helps because I can’t. We have to go back, Warren.”
He tsked, helped her straighten, and turned her around so he could hold her in his arms. “You’re not thinking clearly. We’d miss half the family that are already heading this way. Even James and Georgie will have departed with Jack long before we could get back.”
“I wish there was a faster way to travel,” she growled in frustration against his wide chest.
He chuckled. “That’s never going to happen, but we don’t sail with cannons anymore—”
“You still acquired a full cargo that’s weighing us down.”
“Of course I did, that’s my job. And despite the cargo, we’re making damn good time. Another week, give or take a day or so, and we’ll be in Bridgeport.”
“If the wind holds,” she mumbled.
“Naturally. But you know, no matter what your feeling portends, you can lessen the blow and make sure it isn’t devastating. Do it now. Say something to relieve your mind, sweetheart. Make a bet. You know you always win.”
She glanced up at him and gave him a loving smile for the reminder. “I bet nothing is going to happen that my family can’t handle.”
“Are you sure you want to be that vague?”
“I wasn’t vague. That covers everyone in my family, everyone in your family, all wives, husbands, and children.”