Catherine Archer - Lady Thorn

The horrified expression on her face was soon replaced with satisfaction when Victoria went on to tell of her unexpected rescue by the sea captain, Jedidiah McBride. As she continued to describe the events that had taken place since that fateful meeting, Mary began to smile.

Only when Victoria had finished did she speak. “My, Victoria, but you are a dark horse.”

Victoria frowned at her. “And what do you mean by that? It seemed like the most natural solution to ask him to be my protector. He had already proven himself quite capable, and he did have need of my help in return.”

Mary shook her head, eyeing her friend closely. “That is not what I mean, and you know it. What I mean is that you are attracted to him.”

Far too quickly, Victoria reacted. “I am not.” But she knew that the words were a waste of time for she had never been able to hide anything from the other woman. The truth was that she did find him quite handsome, but there was no more to it than that. “Well, not in the way you think. Besides, it wouldn’t matter even if I was. He has quite a dislike for any person of high rank or social position.”

Mary was thoughtful, her finger worrying her full lower lip. “I wonder why? You say he is well-spoken and has a gentleman’s understanding of good manners.”

Victoria perched on the edge of the other chair. “He did inadvertently tell me something that makes me think this woman, this Nina, rejected him because she felt he was beneath her. Yet I think there might be something more, something he doesn’t want to disclose.”

“It seems there is some mystery to this man, this handsome paragon of bravery and intellect,” Mary said. “I can hardly wait to see him for myself.”

A blush stained Victoria’s cheeks. Had she really described Jedidiah that way? No wonder Mary had come to the conclusion that she was attracted to him.

At that moment, the bell sounded to announce the midday meal. “Heavens!” she cried. Standing, she took Mary’s hand. “There is no more time to discuss it. You’ll be seeing for yourself in a few moments.”

“I am most anxious to do so,” Mary said, her golden eyes growing brighter with curiosity and anticipation as she followed her friend from the library.

Victoria paused outside the small dining room, smoothing her hands over her full skirts and taking a deep breath. As she looked at Mary, Victoria saw the expectant expression on her pretty face and could not help wondering what she would make of the American. Clearly her friend was willing to keep an open mind so far. If she thought him anything but the decent man Victoria believed him to be, the vicar’s daughter would not hide it.

She realized she could not put off the moment any longer, knowing the man was very likely waiting for them. But she could not help interjecting a note of warning. “Not a word, now, until we are alone. Then you can feel free to say whatever you like about him.”

With a frown of consternation, Mary answered her, “But of course, Victoria. Am I not the soul of propriety?” Only the sparkle in her golden eyes gave away her amusement.

Victoria would not be drawn. She was far too nervous.

On entering the cheerful room, with its bright yellow walls and dark walnut furnishings, Victoria saw that Jedidiah was just coming through the door opposite them. He paused in seeming surprise on seeing Mary standing there beside her, then greeted them both with a slight bow. “Ladies.”

“Mr. McBride,” Victoria responded, feeling decidedly disturbed at the way her heart thudded at the sight of him. It really was quite silly of her to react so every time she saw the sea captain. She also knew she could not allow her interest to show in the slightest of ways without Mary taking note of it.

Victoria turned to her friend, purposefully keeping her tone cool. “May I present my guest, Mr. Jedidiah McBride?” She then turned to face him. “Mr. McBride, my dear friend Miss Mary Fulton.”

He bowed again, with a show of elegant manners that would have given any nobleman cause for pride. “How do you do, Miss Fulton? I am very pleased to meet you.”

Victoria watched Jedidiah McBride with scrutinizing eyes. She was beginning to realize that there was more to the man than he had alluded to. Last night he had been a gallant soldier rescuing her in the darkness; this morning he was a stubborn man holding his disdain for the social elite before him like a proud flag. And now, meeting Mary, he appeared the consummate gentleman.

Which man was the true Jedidiah McBride? Perhaps all. And that, Victoria realized, made him even more fascinating.

Glancing at her, Victoria saw that Mary was staring at the sea captain with her mouth agape. She gave her lovely friend a surreptitious nudge.

Mary immediately recovered herself enough to form an equally formal rejoinder. “As am I… Mr. McBride.” The brief glance she cast toward Victoria from the corner of her eye told the taller woman that she would indeed have much to say when they were alone.

Victoria motioned self-consciously toward the table, which had been laid with her grandmother’s favorite silver and the Dresden china. “Please, won’t you sit down?” She went to the head of the table.

Even as Mary took the seat to her left, Victoria could feel her penetrating gaze. Victoria deliberately trained her attention on Jedidiah. Facing him proved only slightly less uncomfortable than facing Mary. He was watching her with that one mocking brow arched over his right eye.

For some reason, Victoria had the distinct feeling that he was aware of her discomfort with the situation and was amused by it. That prickled, and she raised her chin in regal defiance.

No matter how uncomfortable this meal became, she would not allow Jedidiah McBride to get the best of her. Or, at least, she amended as he smiled and her heart skipped in response, she would not allow him to know that he had.

Jedidiah studied the two women while trying to appear not to. Victoria appeared to be completely occupied with filling her plate from the silver dishes that were presented to each of them in turn. The one Victoria had introduced as Mary seemed equally interested in him.

She smiled at him openly when she caught him glancing her way, and he could not help smiling in return. There was something very refreshing about the pretty woman, with her golden-brown hair and her eyes the color of a chunk of African amber he had once seen. There seemed not the slightest hint of artifice or pretension in her. “So, Mr. McBride,” she began without hesitation, her curiosity apparent. “How long have you been in England?”

Taking a sip of the wine that had been poured into the crystal glass in front of him, Jed smiled. “Two days.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder, is it very different from where you are from?”

He could feel Victoria’s gaze upon him as he answered, “I am not really from anywhere. I live on my ship, the Summerwind. You could say that I am based out of Bridgeport, Connecticut. That is where our shipping firm, Cook and McBride, is located.”

“Our?” she asked.

Jed scowled. He wasn’t sure now that he wanted to answer all these questions, didn’t want this situation to become personal. He glanced over at Victoria, and the way she was watching him made him wonder if she knew of his reluctance to talk about himself.

“Well?” Mary prodded unashamedly.

Jed told himself it didn’t matter if they knew some things about him. It wouldn’t really change anything. He and Victoria Thorn had a business arrangement, but he continued to be aware of her intent gaze as he went on. “‘Our’ refers to myself and my partner Peter Cook. His father, Sebastian, was the founder of Cook Shipbuilding. I… When I was eighteen, I went to work for them in the factory. As the years passed, the firm wasn’t doing well. The type of vessel they were producing was being phased out by the advent of the steamship. I, well…I came up with a design that Sebastian claimed brought them out of the red. It was a sailing ship with a large hold, but a narrower hull that increased its speed. When Sebastian died…” He hesitated for a moment as he thought of the kindness of the man and how good he had been to him. “When he died, he was generous enough to leave me a half interest in the business.”