25. A Person from the Past

CHAPTER 25

A PERSON FROM THE PAST

E leven days later, the docks at Wapping

“I’m glad we were able to spend time with your father and Cherice,” Barbara commented, allowing Will to help her down from the Devonville town coach and onto the wooden planks near where their ship was docked. Behind them, Tom, Randy, David, and Donald stepped out of another coach as porters hurried to unload their trunks from the back. “And that they kept to their social calendar rather than stay home on account of me.”

“I appreciate you agreeing to attend the theatre,” Will replied, giving a nod to the driver after their valises were out of the coach. Although invitations had been delivered to Devonville House within a day of their arrival for such events as a ball and a musicale —news of their arrival in Mayfair had spread quickly—only the young men had elected to attend. Cherice had begged them to, since the number of males was always lacking compared to that of the young ladies.

Although Randy had attended ton events in the past—he and Henry and Hannah had gone to London the year prior for the Season—the experience was entirely new for the younger Tom. He had declared an undying love for at least three different girls over the course of three different entertainments.

At least he hadn’t decided to forgo his Grand Tour in favor of spending the Little Season in London.

“I had forgotten people don’t go to watch the play but to see those in attendance,” Barbara countered. “I was happy to sit in the back row and let the boys have the front seats.”

Will chuckled. “Of course you were. I found the back row rather diverting given you were seated next to me.” He waggled his brows and Barbara’s face reddened.

“Will,” she scolded, glancing about to be sure the young men weren’t within earshot.

“I couldn’t help myself, given what we’d been doing when we were supposed to be dressing for the theatre,” he argued, his attention no longer on her but on the ship docked directly in front of them. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured, one of his fists moving to rest on his hip.

Barbara followed his gaze as the boys joined them. “What is it?”

“Not it. Who,” Will replied, hurrying to the ramp to meet the captain making his way in their direction.

Donald barked a laugh. “Now there’s a man who hasn’t changed a bit in six years,” he commented.

“You know him?” Barbara asked, hooking a gloved hand around his elbow to keep Donald from following his father. “He doesn’t appear the least bit reputable,” she remarked.

“ That is Captain John St. John. He brought me back from Rome,” Donald said in a quiet voice. “In this very ship. The Fairweather .”

“Lady Bellingham, may I have the honor of introducing you to Captain St. John?” Will asked as he approached Barbara from the top of the ramp with the ship’s captain in tow. “He was captain of this vessel back when I was commanding the Greenwich ,” he explained, a smile lighting his face with mischief.

“My lady,” St. John said, reaching for her hand with one of his bejeweled fingers. “I am honored, indeed.” He brushed his lips over the back of her hand as Barbara gave him a slight curtsy.

“Captain. It’s very good to meet you.” She aimed a curious glance in her husband’s direction, but before he could say anything else, the captain faced Donald and guffawed.

“Now, I recognize you ,” he said, grabbing Donald’s proffered hand and shaking it. He indicated Barbara. “Did she give birth to you when she was five?”

His face bright red, Donald did his best to keep from glancing at his mother, sure she would be shocked by the man’s comment. He shook his head. “Uh, my brother, David, and my cousins,” he said, indicating the other boys. “The Honorable Randolph, heir to the Gisborn earldom, and Thomas Foster.” He stepped aside as greetings were exchanged and porters hauled their trunks on board followed by the servants.

“I have a decent sized cabin for you two,” St. John remarked, indicating Barbara and Will. “First one on the right at the bottom of the companionway. And three smaller ones for the boys and your servants on the same side. You’ll all have portholes, of course, but you’ll have to decide who gets the top bunks.”

“I’m sure they can work it out,” Will replied as they turned to climb the gangway. He offered Barbara his arm.

“Are the younger ones going on their Grand Tours?” St. John asked in a quiet voice as they approached the companionway.

“Indeed.”

“And your oldest son?”

“He’s... he’s going to be their guide. At least for a time,” Will stammered. He was glad Donald had seen to making a copy of the travel guide he had written—text as well as drawings—the pristine pages now in the hands of an editor at Chapman and Hall. The original manuscript was packed in his satchel along with the notes and drawings he had done whilst he was on his tour six years prior. If they had to leave Donald in Catania, Will had decided he would employ the guide and take over as cicerone.

“And you?”

Will gave a start, surprised the captain would ask. “A... uh, long overdue wedding trip,” he finally said.

“Ah, Roma ,” St. John said, the word exaggerated as he placed both hands over his heart. “You will love it.”

Will grinned, not about to admit he had already visited the city when the HMS Greenwich had put into port near there three decades earlier. “When do you plan to depart?”

“Since we have space, Nattersley has us taking on a few crates,” St. John said, referring to the owner of the shipping company. “They’re being loaded now. Once they’re aboard, we’ll be off.”

“No other passengers?” Will asked.

“Normally, every cabin would be full, but not this trip.”

Will furrowed his brows. “Any particular reason?”

St. John shrugged. “The doors to two of the cabins were damaged. Had a bit of a scuffle with the last bunch of passengers, so my cook has moved his stock into them,” he explained. “Saves him the trouble of going down to the cargo hold.”

“Does that mean our meals will be at the captain’s table?” Will asked.

“Of course. Cook will have breakfast ready before we hit the Channel, and dinner is at seven.”

“I hope he knows there are four hungry young men,” Barbara murmured.

St. John chuckled. “Can’t be any worse than my crew, but I’ll remind him.”

They stopped in front of the opening in the deck where steep stairs led down to the cabins and the cargo hold areas. “Oh, dear,” Barbara murmured. “How am I to...?” She stopped mid-sentence as Will quickly descended the steep steps and turned to hold up his hands.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

“Well, I’m not going to jump,” she argued. “This part I believe I can... Oh!”

Before she quite knew what was happening, Will had his arms wrapped around her bell skirt at her knees. She was forced to bend and grip his shoulders as he lowered her until her booted feet touched the wood-planked floor.

He straightened, grinning broadly. Upon seeing her look of shock, he said, “We’ll work on it.”

“I was more concerned about climbing up ,” she said, shaking out her skirts and ignoring the snickers sounding from above.

Behind her, the boys scrambled down the companionway and disappeared into their respective cabins, their excitement infectious as they called out which beds were to be theirs.

Before she could step into the first cabin, Will had one arm around her shoulders and another beneath her knees.

“Whatever are you doing?” she asked as she was suddenly lifted into his arms, forcing her to wrap her hands around his neck lest she end up on her bum.

“It’s our wedding trip, remember? I think I should carry you over the threshold.” He did so, taking care to be sure they could make it through the small doorway without snagging her redingote on the wooden frame. By the time he set her down in the middle of the small room, she was giggling and he was chuckling.

They both sobered as they glanced around. “Where’s the bed?” she asked, finding only a small desk, square table and two chairs. Their trunks had been placed under the porthole window.

“Against the wall,” Will said, when he spotted some ropes. “We have to lower it using the ropes,” he added, when he noted her look of confusion.

“That’s rather ingenious,” she murmured.

“Do we have bed linens?” he asked.

“Several sets. I made sure the boys each had their own,” she replied, moving to one of the trunks. “Are you thinking to go back to bed before breakfast?”

Will moved to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed her on the side of her neck. “Maybe. But not to sleep,” he whispered.

“Will,” she breathed in disbelief.

“I cannot help it,” he said. “I have the horn for you. Ever since we were in the coach. I nearly had you sit atop me,” he claimed.

She glanced over at one of the chairs tucked under the table. “Do you think it will hold both of us?”

He chuckled. “We can find out,” he said, grinning as he undid the fastening at the top of his pantaloons.

Unbuttoning her redingote, Barbara gasped when she saw how his manhood sprang out. He quickly pulled out the chair and took a seat before reaching for her.

Gathering her skirts so most of the fabric was off to the sides or behind her, she straddled him. Wriggling until she felt his tip at her entrance, she tittered. “I cannot believe we’re doing this,” she murmured.

“There’s water in the ewer,” he said. When he noticed her eyebrows furrowing in question, he added, “So we’ll be able to clean up without having to leave the cabin.”

Her titters turned into a fit of giggles. “Will,” she whispered, adding a gasp when he thrust up and entered her.

He leaned forward until his head was pressed against the space above her breasts, his hands under her skirts to grip her hips. “You smell so good,” he whispered.

“As do you,” she countered, lifting and lowering herself on his rod as quickly as she could manage.

“So glad you don’t wear drawers.”

“Never,” she replied, inhaling sharply when his thumb made contact with her womanhood.

“I cannot hold on any longer,” he whispered, quickening his movements.

She tightened her hold on his shoulders. “You needn’t,” she said, her words combining with her mewl of pleasure. She did her best to mute her cries by taking his lips with hers, her ecstasy forcing her to take a breath at the same moment his groan of satisfaction sounded.

Will leaned back, nearly causing the chair to topple over. “Well, that’s certainly one way to bless a new living quarters.”

Barbara raked her fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp with her fingernails. “Yes, it is,” she whispered, grinning in delight. She glanced around the small cabin. “Do you realize this will be our first home away from home since... since we were married?” When Will didn’t respond, she sat back and glanced down to discover his eyes were closed. Scoffing softly, she glanced out the porthole window and inhaled sharply when she realized the scenery was passing by. “We’re moving.”

Will stirred beneath her. “Have been since we stepped inside the cabin,” he murmured.

“How... how could you tell?”

“How could you not?”

Barbara started to answer—she hadn’t been aware of any movement—but she grew suspicious. “Were you trying to distract me?”

“Did it work?”

“Will!” she scolded. “I wanted to see us depart from the dock.”

He chuckled. “Why?”

She inhaled softly. “This is the first time in my life I will have left England.”

Angling his head to one side, Will furrowed a brow. “Apologies. But if it’s any consolation, we haven’t left England. And we won’t for some time. We have to make it to where the Thames meets the North Sea. Then we’ll head into the Channel.”

“So... we’ll be able to see England for a time?”

He nodded, helping her to stand as she held up her skirts. “For a whole day, I imagine.”

“Oh. Then you’re forgiven,” she said, her attention on the sight beyond the porthole.

“Hold still,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.

Barbara gave a start when he used it to wipe her thighs. “Aren’t you a model of chivalry?” she teased.

He chuckled as he put his pantaloons to rights and Barbara shook out her skirts.

The sudden knock on the door had both of them inhaling sharply. Will hurried to open it, finding the four young men on the other side. “What is it?” he asked with worry.

“Breakfast is served,” Donald stated. “Your presence has been requested by our captain.”

Will chuckled as Barbara joined him. “Then let’s not keep him waiting.” He turned to her. “Do you think you can handle climbing the companionway?”

She nodded.

“I’ll go up first and help pull you up if you need assistance,” he offered.

She gave him a quelling glance. “I can do it.” She watched as the boys all bounded up the steep stairs and onto the deck above. Gathering her skirts so she had most of the bulk in one arm, she used the railing and made it almost to the top before Will reached down and captured her around the waist. He had her up and on the deck whilst attempting to stifle a laugh when she scolded him.

“You’re light as a feather,” he said, offering his arm. “You always have been.”

She shook out her skirts and hooked her hand into his elbow, well aware a couple of the crew watched with amusement from where they worked on the deck. “I won’t be after I eat something. I’m starving,” she murmured.

“As am I,” he said.

Set for eight, the captain’s table was far more formal than Barbara expected. One of the sailors was seeing to pouring coffee while another delivered platters of coddled eggs, bacon, kippers, bread, and ham.

When his passengers had all been seated—Captain St. John insisted Barbara be seated to his right and Will at the opposite end of the table—he announced breakfast was served. “We’re not formal here, and there are no footmen to serve you, so you’ll need to pass the platters around the table.”

“Fine with me,” Tom said, anxious to get the first offering.

“I understand you brought my son back from his Grand Tour six years ago,” Barbara said when she had helped herself to several foods.

St. John nodded. “He was so tanned from the sun, I mistook him for an Italian when he boarded,” he said jovially.

“Do you frequently transport young men on their Grand Tours?”

He shook his head. “Rarely. Most take the land routes. They might board a ship on a river to cover more ground, though.”

“Will we go to Sicily first? Or are you headed straight for Rome?” Randy asked. In the haste to leave England, the exact itinerary hadn’t been shared with the cousins.

The captain glanced first at Donald and then at Will. “Depends on the wind. Sometimes I go to straight to Rome, but if the winds favor us, I can make a slight detour and go around Sicily and then head north through the Strait of Messina. The main current there runs south to north,” he explained. “Cook always likes to take on supplies at Catania.” His gaze went to Donald. “I prefer not to go that way when we leave Rome, so I will simply skip it on my return trip.”

“You take on passengers in Rome?” Will asked.

“I believe I’ll have a full ship, yes,” he replied. “Always a good deal of cargo, too.”

“If you go around Sicily, will we be close enough to see the Greek temples at Agrigento?” Tom asked. “From the water?”

“We would, although they are far more impressive if you take a tour of them on land,” St. John remarked. “You are going to spend time on the island, I hope? The Isle of Ortegia, Syracusa, Catania, Taormina, Palermo...?”

“They’re all on the list,” Donald said. For a moment, he had a thought about collecting Nicoletta and Antony and taking them along for the tour of the island. He didn’t think she had ever been anywhere but Catania, Taormina, Naples, and Rome. If her family had taken the land route from Catania, they would have ridden in a coach north along the eastern coast to Messina. From there, it was a short ferry ride to the mainland and then coach-and-fours to reach Naples and Rome.

“Should we start in Catania?” Will asked, directing his query to everyone at the table.

Murmurs of agreement sounded, Barbara beating Donald in putting voice to her vote. He gave the captain a look of embarrassment, and St. John’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Catania, it is,” the captain stated, helping himself to another serving of ham. “I’ll send word back to Nattersley when we dock at Valencia. The Bellingham should be in port when we arrive.”

Will gave a start. “The Bellingham ?” he repeated. Even though the Bellingham earldom was a courtesy title associated with the Devonville marquessate, it was still a surprise to hear the name associated with a sailing vessel.

“It was named long before you had the title,” St. John said with a grin. “After some naval officer in the last century, I believe.”

“Ah, that would be my grandfather, the admiral,” Will stated. “Before he inherited the Devonville marquessate.”

St. John chuckled. “Well, you don’t want to be getting onto it at Valencia, because it will be headed for London when we set off for Sicily,” he warned.

There was a round of chuckles before Will glanced around the table to discover most of the food had been eaten. “Our compliments to your cook,” he said. “It appears as if we have finished off breakfast.”

“If you’d like, you can take a turn at the wheel. My first mate Rodney should have us into the Channel by now,” St. John offered.

Will smiled broadly. “It will be my pleasure.”