My Fake Rake

The others, consisting of her mother, her brother, his wife, and Jane and Douglas all nodded in agreement. For once, Katie did not have her nose in a book, since Grace’s hired companion, Mrs. Poulton, had taken it upon herself to lecture Katie on the proper way to serve her mistress whilst at sea. Poor Katie—but Mrs. Poulton had come highly recommended, having worked as a companion for ladies traveling abroad for over a decade.

Grace felt no obligation to feign happiness for Katie and Mrs. Poulton. They would see her nearly every hour of every day for a minimum of six months, and it would be impossible to pretend she was happy for that span of time. Jane and Douglas knew of her heartbreak over Sebastian. But her family worried for her, and for their sake, she needed to behave as though she truly wanted to trek to Greenland.

Mason was already aboard, standing on deck as he supervised the loading of his gear. Relations between them had been cordial and professional. Mercifully, he had not attempted another marriage proposal. Perhaps she and Mason might become true friends, after all.

“To be without you for so long.” Grace’s mother dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t know how to endure it.”

“That Fredericks better keep you safe,” Charles muttered. “Or I’ll sail to Greenland myself and wallop him.”

Despite Grace’s sadness, a soft feeling spread through her at her family’s concern. “I made good use of these past weeks. Learned how to shoot a gun and construct a shelter. I can build a fire, too, in the most adverse conditions. So there’s nothing to fear.”

“What if you don’t want to come home?” her mother asked plaintively.

“I’ll return.” She couldn’t exile herself from England forever.

“You’d better,” Jane said with a scowl. “The library will be so dreadfully dull without you.” She stepped close and pulled Grace in for a hug before whispering in Grace’s ear, “Should I say anything to Mr. Holloway, if I see him? About your true feelings?”

Heat prickled Grace’s eyes. “That would only make everyone miserable,” she whispered back. “I appreciate the thought, however.”

“Darling friend.” Jane kissed Grace’s cheek. She moved back and wiped at her eyes.

“Everyone aboard!” a sailor yelled from the ship.

Here it was. The last moments on England’s shore. She drew in a breath as she straightened her spine and fastened a smile into place.

“Time to go,” she said with considerably more excitement than she felt.

Grace’s mother burst into sobs.

As Katie and Mrs. Poulton walked up the gangplank, Grace embraced and kissed each member of her family. She let her mother hold her for a long time, patting her back as the countess wept.

When the last hug had been given, and many promises to write as often as she could were made, she took a step back from her family and friends. Their dear faces all looked back at her. Never had she felt more like a fraud.

Well. She was a different woman now. She saw now that she’d been careless with too many—Sebastian, Mason, herself. Never again would she barrel ahead, determined to have what she wanted, without thought for the consequences or who she might hurt along the way. Her maturity had been hard-won. But she wore it now like a reptile’s tough scales.

“I love you all,” she said, trying to give each syllable the sincerity she felt. Fearing that she might begin to weep loudly like her mother, she hurried up the gangplank.

She exhaled when she stepped onto the deck.

“Welcome aboard,” Mason said. He gestured to the barrel-chested man beside him. “This is Captain Collins.”

“My lady.” The captain bowed. “We’ll have good sailing this time of year.”

“You’ve my thanks and my trust,” she said.

Captain Collins touched his fingers to the brim of his hat. He moved on to speak to another sailor, presumably the next in command, although Grace’s understanding of the hierarchy of a ship was minimal. By the end of this voyage, she’d likely be much more familiar with the running and structure of a sailing vessel.

Mason peered at her. “We’re not yet departed. If you have any second thoughts—”