Page 39 of The Heart of an Earl

Her forehead scrunched. “Why?”

“Ye need to learn to eat proper like again.” His head nudged toward the far-off line she’d been trying to spot. “We still have a few days before we reach port and ye need to learn to eat like a lady again—before ye set foot into yer father’s home. I’ve seen ye at a plate and it ain’t a pretty sight. They won’t take kindly to a lass that eats with her fingers. I know that much about yer lot.”

Her words tongue-tied, she took the fine silverware from his grip and then managed to find her voice. “Thank you—it is most kind of you.”

He inclined his head and winked at her. “It is my pleasure, Lady Julianna. It was worth your feet on my ship to see Des’s eyes alive for the first time.”

“Alive?”

Captain Folback nodded. “He’s been an empty soul since I’ve known the man. Six years of his vacant eyes. He’s the best of men—no one I would rather have at my back in a fight. But six years of lifeless eyes looking at ye is a tad much.”

A crooked smile lifted her lips as she chuckled. “I can imagine. Thank you for not tossing me into the drink.”

He shrugged. “I done it for Des. Never met a man hiding from life as hard as he has. Whatever he sees in ye, he’s starting to reconsider that choice. And he deserves that. Deserves a life.”

Her head tilted to the side. “Thank you. I think so as well.”

Captain Folback dipped his head to her, bowing slightly. He turned away, then stopped, looking back at her. “Oh, and ye might be privy to the knowledge that I’ll be cutting Bart from the ship’s fortunes after this voyage. A man like that has no business on a ship of mine.”

Her eyes went wide and all she could do was offer him a single nod.

He moved away, disappearing onto the main deck of the ship.

Jules stood frozen in place, clutching the silverware in front of her belly.

An apology, of sorts.

Or what would constitute one from a captain like Folback.

Des had said Captain Folback was a good man and she knew too well what it took to keep order on a ship.

That there were still people like Captain Folback in the world—fair—kind. The mere idea of it took her aback.

Maybe there was hope to be had.

As long as the captain was wrong about what awaited her on land.

~~~

Des looked down at Jules as she set Patches to the deck, her fingers sliding along the cat’s back and tail as it scurried off. She stood straight as he shifted the knapsack across his back.

Her hands went to the railing, gripping it tightly, her white knuckles bright in the spotty morning sun. Trepidation on her face, she worried her lower lip, the pink of it slipping in and out of the grip under her teeth.

A quick scramble down the ladder to the approaching skiff, a five-minute oar ride to the dock, and she would be on English soil again.

Hewould be on English soil again.

The pit of his stomach churned.

He’d been in English ports before, but he’d never ventured out of the seaside towns. Never took a step into the heart of England. Towards the towns and roads and lands that were once his home.

But for Jules…for Jules he’d do it. He’d sworn he would get her home and he meant to see that oath through.

Beyond that task, he’d refused to think any further on the matter.

He gave himself a slight shake, his look recentering on Jules.

Even with worry filling her brow, she was beautiful. Something he’d come to appreciate during the last weeks at sail as they approached England, and he’d been inordinately pleased when the winds slowed and they’d had to spend a few extra days at sea.

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