His mind kept going back to his parents. He knew his father was angry with him, and he knew he had to return home. The last telegram from his father sounded dire. He had to get free and return to Philadelphia.
According to his father, his wife, a woman named Greta, had given birth to Seth’s baby. He didn’t know if it was a girl or boy, but he’d agreed to marry her out of family loyalty. He loved Seth, and he’d surely care for his brother’s family. He didn’t remember Greta, but he’d do his duty to her and Seth’s child. He hadn’t planned on marrying as he felt married to the sea. He’d meet the woman, possibly consummating the marriage if she was an agreeable woman with good qualities. He’d provide for them financially, but he couldn’t stay on land. He loved the sea—it was his life.
As much as he loved the sea, the hijacking of his ship had put a damper on his feelings. There were dangerous people on the high seas, pirates and men like the ones who’d just taken over the clipper ship he’d named Eve.
Adam fell asleep a few times only to jerk awake when he heard a noise. At dawn, he felt the ship floating out to sea.
The pirates moved him to the smaller cabin, usually used by his first mate. They untied him and bolted the door. He supposed they’d take over his cabin. He was the only one on board other than Charisse and her friends. They brought him a horrible meal of hard bread and tasteless broth, three times a day. He scoured the room, but the pirates had stripped it of everything; he truly was at their mercy.
He paced for most of the day. At night, he curled up in the small cot and slept. He prayed like he’d never prayed before, all the while.
The trip from Spain to London was a short one. Within days, they’d pulled into the port of London. He watched from the porthole as they unloaded their cargo with the help of several shifty-looking men. The next morning, they were off again without loading the ship with cargo. Adam wondered what they were up to.
Once more, they had pulled into the port of Algeciras, Spain. He watched as later in the day, they once again loaded the ship with cargo, only to set out again the next morning.
When he felt the ship pulling once more into port, he knew by the time that had elapsed that they were in London, again. The same procedure went on between Spain and England. Adam wondered what they were smuggling.
By the time they’d pulled into Algeciras again, he knew the routine. They waited until the sun began to set for them to unload the cargo, but this time, he heard loud voices shouting and gunfire, and he prepared himself to either die or be rescued.
Footsteps on the deck above vibrated in the room. Something different was going on. Were the pirates being attacked by other pirates? He reasoned that it wasn’t likely, not in a port. Adam waited and paced until he heard men knocking on doors, calling his name. He yelled, and soon his door splintered, wood falling to the floor.
“Maritime Police—come with us.”
Adam sighed with relief, and he followed them onto the police ship where they interrogated him. He told them exactly what had happened.
“Your friends were smuggling opium and tobacco—were you aware of that?”
Adam told them he knew they were smuggling, but could do nothing about it. “How did you find them?”
“Your father asked us to look for you and escort you home. He said he thought you were in England or Spain, as other ships there had said they’d seen Eve.” The officer stood. “Do I need to escort you back to Philadelphia, or will you go willingly?”
“I was trying to get back home when I was hijacked. I want nothing more than to get home as fast as I can,” Adam said.
“Go in peace, then. I’ll wire your father.”
Adam shook the officer’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”
Chapter Four
Greta sat in the lawyer’s waiting room, fiddling with her gloves, thinking about what she’d say to the man. She was usually a quiet, docile woman, but lately, she felt fired up and bound to extricate herself from her proxy marriage to Adam. She was tired of being quiet and going along with whatever the Sutherlands wanted—it was what had gotten her into this marriage to begin with.
The clerk finally called her into the attorney’s office. Greta walked in with her head held high, knowing she could do whatever was required.
Greta introduced herself.
The attorney stood and said, “I’m Phillip Granger, at your service. What can I do for you?”
“I need an annulment.”
Granger’s eyebrows raised. “How long have you been in the marriage?”
“For four years,” she told him. “I’ve yet to meet him.”
The attorney’s eyes widened. “You never met him?”
Greta explained, “It was a proxy marriage. I am his brother’s widow. I married Adam Sutherland under pressure from his family.”
Granger’s eyebrows rose again, and he blew out a low whistle. “You want to annul a marriage to the son of the richest man in town?”
“His parents pressured me on account of my daughter. They didn’t want a stranger raising her—at least, I think that was the reason—but Adam’s at sea, and it sounds to me like he doesn’t want to return. I can’t spend the rest of my life waiting for a husband who probably isn’t going to come back. And, if he did return, I think he might resent having been forced to marry me. I’m almost positive his parents forced him into it like they did me, and I want out.”
Granger scribbled on
