The Lady's Marquess: Conrad Legacy Book 1Available for pre-order!
Chapter One
The Britannia
Portsmouth, England
February 1806
Miss Esme Marta Olivia Conrad disliked lying. She didn’t see the point to
it, not when the truth was right there waiting to be spoken. To be fair, she
also enjoyed the looks on people’s faces when she did tell the truth.
People enjoyed their pretty little lies. They expected them, welcomed
them. One look and they thought they knew what you were about to say—the
roundabout fib, the sly story, the beautifully wrapped up falsehood to keep within
society’s good graces.
Esme was not one of those people. She didn’t particularly care what
society thought of her, no doubt why she remained unmarried, nor did she listen
to gossip. Most of it was untrue, anyway, and harmful no matter how one looked
at it.
Today was not one of those times, however. Today, well, this entire
voyage, centered on subterfuge.
“Thank you, Captain.” She smiled sweetly at the older man as he helped
her aboard.
Captain Jasper Badger had sailed with her family’s shipping company for
nearly two decades. The legal, merchant side of Conrad Shipping. Not the more
clandestine smuggling business they’d done their best to disentangle themselves
from.
“Welcome aboard, Miss Esme.” He smiled at her and nodded, keeping an eye
on the short line of passengers behind her. “I confess, I’d expected your
parents, or perhaps Mr. Grayson.”
Esme tried not to let her irritation show. No matter how frequently
someone expected a male member of her family, it never failed to irritate her. She
forced her scowl into a smile and willed her fingers to release her skirts
before they wrinkled.
Scowling and wrinkled skirts was not part of her plan. Such as it was.
“I’m afraid you have me, captain.” She tried to temper her words but
wasn’t sure how well she succeeded. “And Countess von Almy.” Esme nodded to her
companion. “I’m sure we’ll suffice.”
Yes, there was a definite bite there.
Badger, a conscientious, affable man, flushed and nodded. “I do apologize,
you’re quite right. And I thank you for coming, these disruptions are more frequent
than mere rough seas warrant.”
“Yes.” Esme breathed out her crossness and reminded herself Badger didn’t
mean anything by his comments. “It worries me that both ships are targeted.”
Badger nodded, keeping an eye on the crew, the passengers, and anyone who
wandered closer enough to their conversation. Esme had to admire that. But then
he had come to them, worried about not only the company’s reputation but the
very real fear that a regular passenger on this transatlantic crossing was the
culprit.
A full half of the passengers were regulars, which made discerning who
tampered with the cargo difficult.
“I can vouch for my crew, miss.” Badger shook his head. “However, given
the destruction, I’m hesitant to dismiss any of them outright.”
Esme tilted her head and hoped her hat might stay put. The unrelenting
wind had other ideas. “You haven’t told anyone your concerns?”
He shook his head. “Only Mr. and Mrs. Conrad, miss.”
Unease danced over her arms and made her stomach jump. They had not
considered the crew, with so many having worked for the company for almost as
long as Badger himself. Conrad Shipping paid well and looked after both the
crew and their families. They didn’t have a lot of new faces. This made their
detecting all the harder.
“Thank you, Captain, we’ll work to stop this and return to normal
operations.” She smiled and nodded, adding a small tittering laugh for show to
any who might be watching.
“Esme, häschen.” Aunt Hannah turned to her, frowning in the wind. “Are
you sure this is a good idea?”
“Sailing to British North America on one of our ships during a tenuous
treaty with France? One Britain didn’t even sign?” Esme turned from the door
where she listened for any eavesdroppers. “Or trying to ferret out the thief in
our company?”
“Either.” Hannah sighed, a long-suffering sound Esme knew all too well.
“Both.”
Today, the sun shone brightly overhead and not a cloud marred the winter sky.
A good omen, she thought.
She held that belief while several more passengers boarded. Captain
Badger and Mr. Webber greeted them all by name, regular passengers it seemed,
as the crew prepared the ship and loaded passenger trunks and cargo. She smiled
and wondered if the small pull of her lips was simpering enough.
Hannah was right. A week wasn’t enough, she should’ve practiced more.
Then again, she’d never been particularly good at planning.
“Does anyone seem off?” Esme whispered. “Or too friendly with any of the
crew?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” Hannah admitted. “But then there’s no reason—”
Whatever else she said, Esme didn’t hear. At that moment, a tall,
handsome man stepped onto the deck as if he, not Esme, owned the ship. The
perfect tilt of his hat, the smart cut of his clothing all screamed wealth.
That wasn’t what stopped Esme cold.
She’d grown up with money. Knew the good and bad of it, what it bought
and what it couldn’t, and what people were willing to do to obtain it.
It wasn’t the man’s obvious wealth that had all the breath rush from her.
It was the man himself.
She cursed. Hannah elbowed her with a warning look. “You’re out of
character, häschen.” Esme barely acknowledged that warning, however true
it was.
“Ah, My Lord Strachan,” Captain Badger said jovially. “We’re so pleased
you could join us.”
“Strachan?” Hannah’s voice raised slightly.
“Well, hell,” Esme muttered. “What is he doing here?”
Of all the people to board, she had honestly never expected she’d know
any of them. It had simply never occurred to her. And Landon Carhart, the Most
Honorable Marquess of Strachan was the last person she expected. He wasn’t even
on the passenger list!
Now her brother’s closest friend stood barely twenty feet from her. Esme
didn’t know how he’d react, if he’d even recognized her. It’d been
three—four?—years at least since they last met. Five?
Before his father died in a gaming hell fight amidst so much scandal
Landon had spent the next year traveling the country with Esme’s brother, Grayson,
rather than return home. Women, Esme thought, several in various stages of
dress. Men, too, which had sent tongues a wagging. And something else she
couldn’t remember at the moment.
Besides the duel, of course.
“He wasn’t on the list?” Hannah whispered, the words nearly caught by the
wind.
“No,” Esme muttered. “A last-minute addition we didn’t know about.”
“This is not a good portent,” Hannah added just as Landon turned in their
direction.
“Agreed,” Esme sighed. Just then a particularly strong gust of wind sent
her bonnet askew. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
