The two young woman lapsed into silence, until Anna reached for Charlotte’s hand and squeezed it once, hard. “We’ll get through it together. We always do.”

Charlotte squeezed her hand back. “Always.”

CHAPTER22

AWEEK IN BRISTOL, ANDstill no fight.

Julian was spoiling for a good, bone-crushing brawl, but everyone—from the Lloyd’s assessors to his fellow shipping investors—took one look at him and backed away slowly, willing to concede anything so long as they got to leave with their limbs intact.

Julian eyed the far wall in his parlor, the finest at the Old Neptune Inn. It looked thick, sturdy—a respectable target to crunch his fist against. He’d happily take a few broken knuckles over the queasy way his stomach dropped each time his thoughts flew back to London. The seagulls cawed around him and their wings reminded him of the slant of Anna’s eyebrows. A black rock in the rain made him think of the hard misery he’d put into her eyes. It took nothing at all to conjure up her mouth, how tightly she’d held it, the telltale quiver of hurt.

Damn it!

Outside the window, the sky was a misty, brooding blue. It seemed to smudge into the river, promising wet weather and damp, seeping cold. Bristol was busy and thriving, but it was a nasty town. His ships harbored here alongside other, far uglier ships that tookthe long triangular trip, bringing sugar, tobacco, and, not too long ago, slaves to British shores.

There was a knock at the door and the landlord poked his face in. “Mrs. Blake is here to see you, my lord.”

Julian rose to his feet. “Send her in.”

Captain Blake had been correct to a fault and kept himself as neat as his cutters, so Julian was startled to see that the woman who peeped around the doorframe was distinctly rumpled, her hair a puff of peppery frizz, her pelisse buttoned askew, and one end of a long muffler trailing almost to the floor.

Julian bowed deeply. “I’m honored to meet you, Mrs. Blake. If only the circumstances were different.”

“I value friends now more than ever, sir. Oh dear! I’m meant to call you ‘my lord,’ aren’t I? Forgive me—I forget these things and it gives Gordon fits.” Her cheeks went hollow. “GaveGordon fits.”

Julian was conscious of a rare feeling of inadequacy. What did one do with grief? He’d much prefer a problem he could slash, stab, or give a stiff dressing down.

Or solve with money.

He seized on the idea with relief. Money was why they were meeting, after all. “Mrs. Blake, I promised your husband I’d look after you, and I intend to.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Blake perched lightly on the chair he indicated.

“I’ve taken the liberty of inquiring into the Captain’s financial dealings. You’ll be pleased to know he invested brilliantly. With the funds I intend to settle on you, you’re now quite a wealthy woman.” Such a queer expression came over her face that Julian paused. “Mrs. Blake?”

“My lord,Iinvested our funds. I’m pleased you think I’ve done well, though I’m less pleased that my bankers protect my family’s privacy so little.”

Julian’s cheeks went hot. He’d stumbled so often lately thathe felt wobbly, off-kilter, unsteady—a bit like a three-legged horse.Damn it.“I beg your pardon. I’ve overstepped enormously.”

A spark of amusement lit within her. “How on earth did you ever think Gordon did well with our funds? He was much more likely to polish a coin than invest it.”

Julian gave a rueful nod. “You’re quite right.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no need to apologize for trying to help. I know it’s not usual for wives to hold the purse strings, but it makes sense in sailor circles, with our husbands gone so frequently. I wonder if more women should—we’re often more practical.”

Something split inside Julian’s chest, tearing vital organs in two. He looked at Mrs. Blake and saw Anna, sitting white-knuckled at the will reading as her future flew away from her. He blinked hard, and it was himself he saw, fifteen years old and petrified, staring down a stack of bills that shrieked whenever he got near them.

Julian clenched his jaw and handed Mrs. Blake a sheaf of papers. “This is the settlement I propose. It’s clear you’ll make excellent use of it.”

She glanced over the figures and looked up, astonished. “My word! This quite answers the question of the boys’ education. My youngest is a daredevil, just like his father. He wants to be a sailor too, but right now the thought of it—” Her breath hitched, but she took the handkerchief Julian offered with a watery laugh. “If you could see your face, my lord! I promise not to weep on you.”

“Weep on me if you will, Mrs. Blake. I counted your husband as a true friend. I trust you’ll remember that if there’s any service I can offer.”

She studied him. “Do you mean it, I wonder? I used to conduct all our business in my husband’s name, and you’d be shocked at the trouble I’m having now that he’s gone.”

“Trouble from whom?” asked Julian silkily. He wondered if he’d get his fight after all.

“There’s no need to look so murderous, my lord! I only wondered if I might use your name. In case anyone needs a little… encouragement?”