Page 17 of A Second Chance for Love

“I’m surprised you heard of it.”

“Why? Because women don’t keep abreast of such matters?”

“Not at all, darling.” She jolted at the endearment and he grinned. “I only meant the operation was overshadowed by what was going on in the West.”

“Oh.” This time she was the one blushing.

“To make my already too long story shorter, we were waiting for the right wind to get up the Dardanelles when poor Ajax caught fire, ran aground, and blew up.”

She raised a hand to her mouth. “Were you injured?”

“Hardly a scratch,” he confessed. “Fortunately there were no fatalities. We were divided among the fleet and I made my way up toward Constantinople on the Canopus. As you know, not much of anything happened before Duckworth turned the fleet and headed back out. The second time through the straights we took heavy fire and something big—I never learned what—hit me in the head and knocked me overboard.”

She sucked in a noisy breath, her eyes wide.

“Do you want me to stop?” he teased. “It looks like you are—”

“Don’t you dare stop; this is better than an adventure novel.”

Juss had never seen her so open and enthusiastic. She’d never shown anything but a prim, judging, haughty face all those years ago. Had that been merely a defense? Was it true the servants had been after her from the start? He knew nothing about the female staff but the men had all been half-way smitten—himself included. Juss knew they hadn’t shown their admiration in a mature fashion, but had taunted and mocked. Recalling his role in all of that made him feel more than a little uncomfortable

“Juss?”

“Hmm?” He looked up from his thoughts to find her staring impatiently.

“What happened next?”

Ah, yes, his tale of woe.

“I was captured along with an officer from another ship. He’d sustained a serious hit and the Turks weren’t sure that one injured officer would be enough, so they kept the rest of us—two other swabbies like me—to use in trade. The wheels turned slowly and we were held in Constantinople for some months.”

“What was it like?”

Her expression was enrapt but he knew she wouldn’t like the truth—no normal human being would. Still, there were bits and pieces he could share.

“It was eye-opening,” he admitted truthfully. “They held the wounded officer elsewhere and kept the three of us in with a lot of other prisoners. I met men from all over.”

“I shall want to hear more about Constantinople later,” she told him hurriedly. “But I want to know the rest of your story just now.”

“When the time came, the Turks sent us back home on an English merchant ship.” Juss’s lips pulled up into a wry smile. “Luckily the captain was a kind man who dropped us off before he got to Portsmouth, where the pressgangs would have been waiting for us.”

“Surely they would not have preyed on men who’d already been prisoners?”

“Oh, they would prey on Prinny himself if he wandered down to the wrong docks,” he assured her. “But I escaped unscathed and received a piece of paper from His Majesty that made me more respectable than I’d been before my stint in gaol.”

The carriage slowed and he saw they were approaching The Three Sisters, a very busy posting inn.

“You can’t stop yet, Juss. You haven’t even begun to tell me how you made your fortune.”

Juss was flattered by her interest, but he wasn’t exactly eager to share the next part of the story. Luckily the vent slid open and Beekman saved him.

“Do you want to stop, sir?”

“Yes. I’m a bit peckish and we can see if anyone has word on the weather ahead.” It hadn’t snowed yet, but the sky was a menacing dark gray.

“Aye, sir.” And the vent slid shut.

She looked out the window and blinked. “We are already at Colnford. I’d no idea we’d gone so far.” Her cheeks tinted lightly and he knew she’d just realized her words might be taken to mean she’d been so diverted she hadn’t noticed time flying. “It must be this coach,” she added. “I’ve never been in one so well sprung.”