Pirate's Daughter, Rebel Wife. June Francis
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Название: Pirate's Daughter, Rebel Wife
Автор: June Francis
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
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‘Taste this and give me your opinion,’ said Harry, handing a goblet to Bridget.
Grateful that he was treating her as he would a normal guest, she took a cautious sip and then a mouthful of the wine. ‘It is sweet and fruity with an unusual flavour. If you could bottle it, I’m sure you could make your fortune.’
He smiled. ‘I see you have a business head. The unusual flavour is spirit fermented from the processed liquid sugar for the estate’s own use. Perhaps one day enough will be produced to make it worth my client’s efforts to turn the liquor into a profitable business. At the moment Jorge does not possess enough agricultural land to do so.’
‘Jorge is the man who owns this house?’
Harry nodded. ‘You have not had the opportunity to discover that Madeira is a heavily forested mountainous island. A lot of trees have to be felled to clear the land for the plough and many of the fields are on a slope. The sugar–cane harvest makes him a decent profit as it is and he also grows vines.’
‘So you ship Madeira wine, as well?’
Harry nodded. ‘It is a popular wine.’
‘Do you have a buyer?’
‘I doubt I’ll have difficulty finding one in England.’ Harry poured a little more of the drink into her goblet. ‘I had, until recently, thought of making my home here, but now we are to be married no doubt you will wish to live near your friends in England. I have heard that Lady Elizabeth has a fine mansion near the Strand in London.’
‘That is true.’ Bridget gazed at his bearded face and tried to imagine his profile clean shaven, but it was not easy and she gave up.
‘I have also heard she is an eccentric and prone to do exactly what she likes if she takes a fancy to someone, having no husband to rein in her wayward behaviour.’
Bridget smiled. ‘She is also extremely wealthy because he died without issue and she inherited his fortune. She is so droll and says exactly what she thinks, even if it is insulting. Yet her heart is warm and once she heard my story, she was determined to help me to find my father.’
‘Kind of her, indeed,’ said Harry drily. ‘I presume it was she who provided the ship you sailed on.’
Bridget shook her head. ‘No, her goddaughter had recently married the Baron Dalsland and it was he who placed two of his ships at our disposal.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Harry, sitting bolt upright.
She looked at him, startled. ‘Of course, you will recognise the name. The Baron was a close friend of Captain Black Harry. After we discovered that Thor’s Hammer had been seen in Funchal harbour, the Baron was determined to have him found.’ She drew in a trembling breath. ‘As you can imagine I was desperate to leave England as soon as possible, fearing the ship would be gone if I delayed, but the Baron insisted that we wait until the weather improved.’
‘Wise of him,’ rasped Harry. ‘You are fortunate in your friends.’ He longed to ask about this woman whom the Baron had married, but knew it would be more sensible not to show too much interest, if he was to keep his identity secret a little longer. Yet he was extremely curious to know why Alex had not married Ingrid Wrangel, the woman with whom they had both been in love.
‘I sincerely hope that Lady Elizabeth is back in London where she belongs,’ said Bridget.
‘Would you like to live in London?’ asked Harry.
‘Surely where we live will depend on your trading interests, Captain?’
He did not dispute it because he had seen Joe approaching with food.
Bridget watched as the youth set a basket of bread on the table, as well as dishes of meat, soft white cheese and fruit. She had regained her appetite and her mouth watered. Joe left for a few moments and returned with plates and knives and a jug of wine. She reached for bread and meat and, for a while, neither she nor the captain spoke, but gave all their attention to consuming the meal set before them. It was a while since she had tasted food so good as that she had consumed in this house.
‘Perhaps you would prefer to live in Scotland?’ suggested Harry, picking up the conversation where they had left off.
‘Not particularly. My memories of life with my kinsfolk are not particularly happy ones. I was happier with my mother’s family in Ireland, but I would not like to return there. There are too many memories of her in that place where she died and it would make me sad.’ She sighed heavily. ‘If only my father had not gone to the New World and she was still alive.’
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