The Reluctant Duke (A Seabrook Family Saga)(14)

But Isabella had been ten-and-three at the time. Now, at the mature age of ten-and-eight, and with some knowledge of what transpired inside brothels, Isabella blushed profusely and threw things at him when he reminded her of her wish.

Finally Thomas organized thoughts in his head and allowed them to exit his mouth. “Your situation is much different from what Miss Austen’s was at your age. You have a large dowry and a trust fund. You come from a wealthy family and now a noble one. You have no need to tax yourself writing novels.”

Thomas watched her intently as she turned her reticule over in her lap, digesting that information. One foot tapped in a nervous rhythm on the wood floor of the carriage. Her chest rose and fell with her deep breathing, obviously to maintain a level of control. Several times she opened her mouth to speak only to close it again.

He did not know Miss Hamilton well, but something told him she was angry beyond mere words and was struggling to maintain her composure. He thought to compare her to others her age in the ton.

Most girls her age—not all—were silly, empty-headed debutantes whose only purpose was to make a good impression when introduced to society and to marry well. Miss Hamilton, on the other hand, seemed not at all interested in making a good impression. For some reason, though it irritated him on one level, he found conversing with her to be refreshing.

“Please speak you mind. As I told you before,” he said, waving his arm around the inside of the coach, “you are family.”

Thomas politely ignored the ungentlemanly snort from Myles.

“If it is acceptable to you, Your Grace, I will take your opinion and think it over.”

That was it. She had nothing else to say? Oh, well, it was probably for the best. Thomas could not encourage her to write novels or take seriously her declaration never to marry. It was just as well the matter was settled now.

“I would like to bring up another subject which has me curious,” Thomas began. “Why have two burly men been following us in a phaeton?”

Emma visibly winced, and all color escaped her face. “Papa hired Jerome and Sully to guard me whenever I leave Miss Beauregard’s.”

“Why?”

“To keep me safe,” she replied.

Thomas stole a look at Myles and then turned back to Miss Hamilton, his brows raised. “Why, I ask again?”

Miss Hamilton clearly did not like this topic. She refused to look at him. Her head bowed, she watched her hands intertwine with each other on her lap.

When she finally answered his query he had to lean forward to make out what she whispered. “Papa was afraid I would be taken for ransom again. I was kidnapped down by the docks when I was seven. It took three days before Papa found me and had the men responsible arrested. He was always afraid I would be taken again, so he hired Jerome and Sully to protect me.”

Thomas sat back, closed his eyes, and tried to relax his tense body. It was not unknown in this day and age that criminals kidnapped children of wealthy parents in England for ransom. Apparently it happened in America as well.

Dear God. His heart sped up. What must she have endured?





CHAPTER FIVE



Nine long months spent in America, and Thomas still struggled with indecision. Was it best to sell off Hamilton’s whole fleet of whaling ships and all properties Hamilton had held? Or should he keep Mr. Walsh on as manager of the business related to the whaling industry and keep the holdings? Regardless of his decision, he planned on keeping one of the homes. He considered one a gem––a sea captain’s hip-roofed colonial, complete with widow’s walk. It was by far his favorite. That house sat high on a bluff where the views were spectacular and rivaled some from his country estate in England.

The furnishings were not to his taste. But quite nautical in theme, they suited the property perfectly. This was where Thomas spent most of his free time in America––not that he had much. What he was learning about the whale oil industry fascinated him. He spent any free time he had studying books and charts and grilling the ship captains when they came into port.

On any given day, there were upwards of three of his twenty-six vessels in port. Some ships were away from port, whaling, for only one or two years, if they successfully harpooned the whales and processed the oil. Many set sail and didn’t return for a much longer time, up to three or four years. These vessels harpooned the whales, harvested the oil, and delivered it to far-off regions before returning to their home port.

Thomas had learned a great deal about the different whales and the quality of oils that could be rendered from them. Never before had he been interested in where the oil for some of his lamps came from. His only concern had been that his supply never ran out. Now, however, the thought of oil and whaling excited him. Yes, a part of him thoroughly enjoyed his new occupation as business owner.