Rescued By The Viscount's Ring. Carol ArensЧитать онлайн книгу.
might cause harm to his passengers.
So far his watching had confirmed that McClure did not hire the most capable of men.
‘The heat needs to remain constant. Sudden cooling might damage a valve which could cause a furnace to explode. Watch for that, Lord Glenbrook, first of all.’ The Captain plucked at one of his coat buttons.
Rees nodded while he continued to scan the dock with the spyglass.
All the way from Liverpool he’d been posing as a fireman, working right alongside labourers in the boiler room. He had a fairly good idea now what hell must be like. Heat, sweat, filth and aching muscles—it was barely a fit job for a human, common born or not. Although he had come to see that there was nothing common about the men he worked beside.
Even though his muscles ached and sweat drenched him most of the time, he would continue the business of shovelling coal.
While he scanned the telescope across the ticket office on the other side of the road, a movement caught his eye. He focused the lens on a stack of barrels.
Yes! Just there a man crouched, peeking out from behind a barrel. Evidently he did not want to be seen.
He appeared to be watching a woman standing at the ticket counter. The lady glanced over her shoulder. She could not see the fellow from her vantage point.
What could he want with her? Clearly something was not as it should be.
With her ticket in hand, the woman turned from the ticket booth. The smile she had given the ticket master lingered on her face. For an instant, Rees forgot he was looking for careless employees because he was certain he had just glimpsed the face of an angel. Fair hair blew in fine whips from under her hat and her wide blue eyes sparkled even in the gloom of the cloudy morning—but it was her smile that captivated him. All the sweetness and innocence of the world were reflected on her lips.
But wait! The man emerged from behind the barrels an instant before the lady hurried away.
Rees was by nature a protector and he knew when someone needed protecting.
While the man spoke to the ticket master, the angel ducked behind a pile of wood crates. Seconds later, the child who had been weeping so desperately dashed away from her family. She ran behind the crates where the woman was hiding.
He switched his focus back to the man standing at the ticket office. The fellow slammed his fist on the counter, then glanced about before he spun on his heel and walked away.
A spyglass was an interesting device. Captain Collier must have seen all manner of interesting happenings over the years.
He was about to hand the glass back when the woman and the child came out from behind the crates, hand in hand.
The child was no longer crying, but rather grinning broadly. With the lens focused so closely, he clearly understood what was happening. The angel not only returned the girl to her parents, but pressed the ticket she had just purchased into the mother’s hand.
After a few quick hugs, the family hurried up the gangplank, laughing and looking joyful.
The lady who had just given up her ticket stood where she was, glancing about, her winglike brows pressed in thought.
What would she do now? Clearly she was not a lady of means who could simply purchase a new ticket.
A prosperous-looking family began to embark. So excited were they about boarding the great ship with her whistle blowing and her red stacks steaming, they took little note that the angel had joined them. She walked slightly behind, head bent and giving the appearance of being a servant to them.
He followed their progress with the glass. The family passed the fellow collecting tickets and stepped aboard. Smiling, with wisps of blonde hair streaking across her cheeks, the angel followed, but was prevented from boarding when the ticket collector blocked her way with his outthrust arm.
She had no ticket, after all. The employee was only doing his duty in forbidding her.
Still, he must have steel for a heart, being able to withstand her smiles as she gestured after the family who had no idea she had tried to filter in with them.
She made a motion with her hand, searched through her purse as if she should have a ticket, but where was it?
In the face of her pleading the employee stood firm.
‘Another one attempting to stow away,’ the Captain commented with a resigned sigh. ‘Although I’ve never seen a woman try it. I’ll send for someone to remove her.’
‘Allow her to board.’
‘I beg your pardon, Lord Glenbrook? The woman is as good as a thief.’
‘I must ask again that you call me Mr Dalton.’ Rees handed back the spyglass. ‘Escort the woman aboard.’
‘But—’
‘You will allow her to board.’
Rees groaned when the Captain presented a respectful dip of his head, then went off to do Rees’s bidding. What sort of captain showed deference to a labouring fireman? At this rate his identity would be revealed before they left port.
It was imperative that no one discover who he was. Disguised as a humble fireman he would be able to learn who in the furnace room was reliable and who might be putting his passengers at risk by negligent behaviour.
As difficult a thing it was, not being forthright about who he was, it would remain so. People had given him their fares, entrusted their safety into his care. No matter the discomfort he endured as Mr Dalton, fireman, he would deliver them safely across the Atlantic.
He remained where he was, watching while the woman boarded the ship with the Captain. He couldn’t see it from here without the glass, but he knew the smile she was bestowing on Collier would feel like one of those visions when the sun burst through clouds, casting its light in brilliant rays upon the earth.
Even if the Captain didn’t recognise it as such, it was the way Rees saw it and this was his ship. If he wanted to allow the woman passage, she would have it.
He only wondered if he would cross paths with her during the voyage.
It was better that he didn’t. Miss Bethany Mosemore waited for him in Glenbrook. Unless he could find a way out of it, she was going to become his wife. He had only recently discovered what a great mistake their union would be.
Madeline’s stomach growled rather loudly in complaint of missing both breakfast and the midday meal.
The main thing to keep in mind was that she had somehow managed to board the ship. She could only count her blessings for it.
Since that mysterious good fortune had befallen her, perhaps she would also find something to eat.
But where? This was a huge ship. She could search half the day and not find the steerage dining room.
It would shorten the process if she asked someone, but who?
Everyone seemed to be in a rush. Her fellow passengers were absorbed in the task of settling into their quarters. The ones who were not leaned over the rail, watching while the ship pulled away from the dock.
Asking a crew member for directions to the dining room was out of the question. Those busy people buzzed about, each of them occupied in getting the ship underway.
She could hardly put the state of her appetite ahead of that.
‘You will simply have to wait,’ she muttered, listening to the growling protest her stomach raised.
‘Is there something I can do to assist you, miss?’ asked a masculine voice from behind her—close behind her.
In fact, half a mile would be too close behind her. The man’s voice had a resonance to it that made