'It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Copeland.'
She liked him immediately, and they were soon calling each other by their first names and chatting about the responsibilities of his position.
'You can't imagine how glad we all are to have Quinn back. I do much better with ledgers and contracts than with caulking mallets and lathes. Simon and I are much the same. That's why we've needed Quinn so badly.'
'Julian exaggerates,' Quinn said. 'He's done a fine job these past two years.'
'I'm just glad it's over now, and we can settle down to building the best ships on the North Atlantic.' He turned toward the sloop behind them. 'We'll be launching her soon. Why don't you come and watch?'
'I'd like that,' Noelle answered.
As he was ready to leave them, he said, 'My wife will never forgive me if I don't ask you if you're ready for company, Noelle.'
'I'd enjoy meeting her,' she assured him. 'Just warn her that she may have to crawl over ladders to get in the front door.'
After Julian Lester left them, Quinn led her out to the wharf and then, taking her hand, helped her onto the anchored frigate. His hand felt comfortable as it clasped hers, cool and strong, a little rough from the work it had been doing. She made no protest when he did not immediately let her go.
'These masts are made from spruce. We float the trees down the river and finish them smooth in the spar shop. Sailors are superstitious, so we never step a mast without putting a silver coin under its butt.'
Abruptly he craned his neck and pulled away from her. 'No, Frank. You need more tension on that stay. Slack off on the shroud!'
As quickly as that, he had forgotten her and was at the ratlines, climbing up into the rigging as easily as if he were mounting a staircase. Noelle watched him for a while and then began wandering about the frigate, speaking to the men as she passed but being careful to stay out of their way. She heard Quinn's laughter and looked up to see him climbing even higher, supremely confident in this world of which he was the undisputed master.
Later, as she rode toward Televea, she reviewed the afternoon. The shipyard fascinated her, and she vowed that she would go there frequently and learn all she could. As she rounded a sharp bend in the road Chestnut nickered and tossed her head nervously. Noelle reached out to pat her neck. 'There now, Chestnut. What's the-'
Suddenly a horse shot across the road from a stand of trees on the side. As Chestnut began to rear, a large fist reached out and clamped itself around the bridle, bringing the mare back under control. 'Need some help, little lady?' The voice was sneering and unpleasant.
Noelle jerked around in her saddle. Her heart lurched as she stared into the small, malevolent eyes of the man she had seen standing by the smokehouse at Televea. 'What do you think you're doing?' she demanded, her hand instinctively tightening on her riding crop.
Insolently he doffed his felt hat, revealing thin, straw-colored hair. 'Jes' wanted to pay my respects to the bride.' His eyes slid down over her body. 'Looks to me like you coulda done better than that bastard Copeland.'
Noelle glanced uneasily at the hand still clamped around her bridle. 'Who are you?' she asked, keeping her voice cold and even.
'Name's Baker, little lady. Luke Baker.' He studied her expressionless face. 'That name don't mean nothin' to you, does it?'
'Should it?'
'Jes' thought your husband mighta mentioned me. Him and me go back a long way.'
Suddenly Noelle remembered a conversation she had overheard between Simon and Quinn during those last days in London. 'You're the man who was suspected of setting fire to the warehouse, aren't you?'
'Don't know nothin' about no fire.' He grinned unpleasantly as he said it, and Noelle decided that he was lying.
'Let go of my horse, Mr. Baker,' she snapped. 'This instant!''
His small eyes raked over her. 'Tell me, little lady,' he jeered. 'You ever get lonesome at night? I hear between the shipyard and Kate Malloy's, your high-and-mighty husband don't spend a lot of time at home.'
Noelle lifted her riding crop and slashed it down across the fist that held the bridle. Baker gave a startled yelp of pain, but to her dismay, did not release his grip. 'You little bitch,' he snarled, jerking the crop from her with his free hand. 'You're gonna pay for that.'
'No, Baker. You're the one who's going to pay.'
In their struggle, neither of them had heard Quinn approaching on Pathkiller from the other side of the bend. Baker stared at the pistol trained at his heart. Slowly he released his grip on Noelle's mount.
'Put that gun away, Copeland. I ain't done nothin'.'
Quinn did not take his eyes off Baker. 'You're wrong, Luke. I sent one of my men for the sheriff as soon as I heard you'd been seen lurking around the yard. You're going to be spending some time in jail.'
Baker licked his lips nervously. 'What for?'
'Trying to burn down my shipyard last year,' Quinn scoffed contemptuously. 'What happened? You couldn't get to me so you went after the shipyard instead?'
'You're bluffing,' Baker sneered. 'I wasn't anywhere near that shipyard. And I got witnesses to prove it.'
'I've seen your friends. Baker, and I don't think their word will count much with a jury. Besides, I've got my own witnesses. Ned McLoughlin and Carl Bremer saw you that night.'
Baker stared impotently at the gun trained so unwaveringly upon him. 'You're lying! There weren't any witnesses to that fire.'
'Oh, but there were. We knew you'd show up again as soon as you heard I was back from England. Ned and Carl have just been biding their time, waiting to tell their stories to the judge.' Noelle saw fear flickering in Baker's eyes. 'You're not a stupid man, Baker,' Quinn said, 'but you've let your hatred for me ruin your judgment. You should have stayed away.'
Baker could no longer contain his rage. 'You son of a bitch!' he screamed, drops of spittle collecting in the corners of his mouth. 'Stay away? After you killed my brother?'
'Your brother attacked an unarmed man.'
'He was an Injun!' Baker spat. 'You killed a white man for an Injun!'
Quinn's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Noelle saw his muscles tense. Later she wondered what would have happened if the sheriff had not ridden up at that moment with some of the men from the shipyard.
After they had taken Baker away, Quinn turned to her. 'Are you all right?'
She nodded. 'Baker was the man I saw near the smokehouse.'
Quinn dismounted and picked up her riding crop from the road. 'I suspected it was him, but I wasn't sure. Until today, nobody else had seen him. Then, right after you left the yard, one of the men told me somebody thought they'd spotted him near the gate.' He rested his hand on the back of her saddle and handed the crop to her. 'You should have waited for the groom to ride back with you, Noelle. I've told you I don't want you riding alone around here.'
'Don't try to put a leash on me, Quinn Copeland,' she flared. 'I can take care of myself. I had my knife in my boot and was just waiting for the chance to use it.' Without waiting for a response, she dug her heels into Chestnut's flanks and galloped off down the road.
Chapter Thirty-two
The next afternoon, Julian Lester's wife, Emily, came to call. In appearance, she was much like her husband, with the same soft brown hair and hazel eyes. As Noelle led her through the completed rooms she found herself warming to her as quickly as she had to Julian.
'You've done so much here,' Emily marveled as they returned to the drawing room. 'Televea is going to be even more beautiful than it was when I was a child.'
'I didn't realize you'd lived here so long, Emily.'
'Oh, my, yes. At Darcy Hall, not a mile away. Goodness, I spent almost as much time at Televea as I did there.
