A Wish For Nicholas. Jackie Manning
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Since then, Thornwood Hall hasn’t shown much of a profit. I want you to find out why. Besides, it’s a lovely estate. An idyllic spot to convalesce while you’re discovering what’s wrong with the place.”
Barbara wondered if the king had noticed her interest in Sinclair and wished the handsome officer away from court during his recuperation. The thought gave her a race of pleasure.
“I’ll recover at sea, fighting the Dutch, Your Majesty. I’ll go mad watching sheep.” Sinclair’s voice grew weaker, and Barbara knew he had overtired himself.
The king’s face grew serious. “I wish England had the money to give you a ship, Sinclair. But the royal treasury is bankrupt due to these damnable Dutch raids. Unless the treasurer can secure a loan from our allies abroad—”
“The Dutch won’t wait.” Sinclair grimaced as he raised himself on one elbow. “De Ruyter must be stopped…”
The king stepped closer. “I agree.” His black eyes snapped. “That’s why it’s vital that England gain a war hero. We can’t let the Dutch or our allies know how seriously they’ve beaten us. We must put on a brave show, then our friends abroad will lend us the funds we need.
“Meanwhile, you’ll recuperate at Thornwood Hall, overseeing your new estate. Once it was the most flourishing estate in the shire. Now it’s so poor, the crofters can’t pay their rents.” He shook his head. “Something foul is afoot, Sinclair. It’s your mission to find out why.” The king scowled. “Once you discover what’s ailing the place, you can sell it for all I care. But not before then.”
Sinclair sighed and fell back against the pillows. Although the officer said nothing in rebuttal, Barbara thought his appeasement was more from exhaustion than obedience. Dark circles ringed his gray eyes, which did nothing to diminish his appealing masculinity.
“If you’re up to it, Sinclair, one of your crewmen is waiting to see you,” the physician said. “Michael Finn. That is, if you’re not too tired—”
“Finn?” Sinclair’s mouth lifted in surprise. “Finn is here, at Whitehall?” he asked, struggling to sit up.
The king smiled. “He’s one of the men who saved you, Sinclair.” He glanced at the physician. “William, keep me informed.”
The doctor bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
“Then we’ll leave you, Sinclair.” The monarch’s voice gentled as he took Barbara’s hand. “Come, my dear.”
Barbara gave Sinclair a wry glance as she swept past.
Nicholas Sinclair said nothing as he folded his arms, impatient for them to leave. Thank God, Finn was safe. He couldn’t wait to see him.
His head throbbed as he fought to remember the order of what had happened. The screams of his gallant crew still rang in his ears. He remembered the mortar blast ripping the ship apart, then the cold water engulfing him. Nothing after that.
Sinclair squeezed back the tide of sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him and glared at the physician, who stood collecting his medicines. “How long before I can ride a horse?”
“A horse?” The doctor barked with laughter. “At least a month before you’re strong enough to walk, let alone ride.”
A jolt of pain shot down Sinclair’s leg. “Bloody hell,” he mumbled under his breath. “We’ll see about that.”
“What’s your hurry, Sinclair?” The doctor tucked the herb packets back into the drawers of the medicine cabinet. “You have every luxury while you’re at Whitehall.” He grinned at him. “And the pick of the loveliest ladies at court.”
“Beautiful women are in every port,” Nick replied dryly. “All the luxury I want I’ll find on board a warship.”
The doctor shook his head and chuckled. “I’ll be in later to see you, Captain.” He gathered up his things and strode toward the door.
Nick barely heard the physician leave as he pondered how to raise the necessary capital to buy another ship. Maybe Finn could think of something. Between the two of them, they’d find another vessel if it were the last thing they did.
A few minutes after the doctor had left, the door flew open and a blond-haired man with ruddy features burst into the room.
“Captain!” The lumbering Irishman placed his arm on Sinclair’s shoulder in a manly salute. “A damn feast for these ol’ eyes, y’are, Nick.”
Very few men had ever called him Nick, and the familiar name felt comforting. “So are you, Finn.” His throat tightened and he feared his voice would betray his emotions. “Are you all right?” he managed. “The last time I saw you, you were reloading cannon near the stern.”
Finn’s smile faded and he lowered his blue gaze. “Right after that, we took a direct hit. You were knocked out by the blast. Smitty, Morrah and I brought you to shore, then I brought you here, the king’s orders.” Finn’s gaze lifted to meet Nick’s stare. “Do you remember how you led the Hesper against the Dutch fleet?” He took a step back. “You’re a hero, Nick. All of our ships were saved except the Hesper, and everybody who survived that night has you to thank, lad.”
Sinclair squeezed his eyes shut. “Damn it, Finn. I’m no hero. The true heroes went down with the Hesper.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I’m their captain. I should be with them.”
Finn shifted uneasily. “You’ve had a shock. It’s natural you feel like that now—”
“No. I’ve got to go back. I’ve got to get another ship, Finn. You’ve got to help me.”
Finn’s jaw dropped and he looked aghast. “How?”
“I’ve got an idea.” Nick told Finn about the King awarding him the estate and the mission he had to do. When Nick had finished, Finn shook his head. “A baron with your own estate. Lord be!”
Nick rubbed his scraggly beard and studied his friend. “You’re the one man I can trust, Finn. The king said I can’t sell Thornwood Hall until I find out why the estate doesn’t make a profit,” he said, “but he didn’t say I couldn’t secure a loan against the place.” The idea filled him with hope.
Finn’s ruddy face darkened and he swore.
Nick ignored Finn’s surprise. “The land must be worth something. I’ll wager Thornwood Hall will provide enough collateral to buy a ship.” He reached out and tapped Finn’s shoulder. “I want you to negotiate it for me.”
Finn scratched his fair head. “But we don’t know anyone in London who would—”
“No, but I think someone at court will help us.” Nick thought of the chestnut-haired mistress to the king, Barbara Villiers. “Perhaps the countess of Castlemaine might be persuaded to find a moneylender for us.”
“The king’s mistress?”
“Aye.”
“And why would she do that?” Finn asked skeptically.
“Because I’ll offer her a share of the profits,” Nick answered.
“But what if the king finds out?”
“He won’t find out. I’ll leave for Thornwood Hall as soon as I’m able and solve the riddle. That’s the least of our worries.”
“Damn it, Nick. I’m not so sure—”
“Finn, I’m depending on you. Get a message to Barbara Villiers that I want to see her, then leave the rest to me.” Through the pain, Nick forced a smile.
“All right, lad.” Finn strode toward the door, then paused. “Luckily, I’ve made the acquaintance of one of her ladies-in-waiting. Ye can count on me, Cap’n.” He winked as he shut the door.
Nick