Beloved Warrior Read Online Free

good wind, her uncle had said, they would see England in five days. They would not stop at London but go up the coast to the Handdon Castle, the northern home of the Earl of Chadwick. Though she had an intense curiosity about her mother’s country, she did not look forward to meeting her intended husband.
    Maybe she should get sick. Very sick. Then Viscount Kingsley would not want her.
    “You look pensive,” her uncle said, breaking the long silence between them. “Looking forward to seeing England?”
    “I wish I knew more about the man you want me to marry.”
    “The man you will marry,” he corrected.
    “And if I find him lacking?”
    He shrugged as if that was of no matter. “This union will help your family and your country.”
    “And if Viscount Kingsley finds me lacking?”
    “He has already seen a miniature of you. He is quite entranced, I’m told.”
    She had hoped otherwise. “Have you met him?”
    “ Si. He is a handsome lad.”
    Juliana heard the rattle of a chain through the grated latch that ran to the galley deck, and she shivered.
    “You are cold,” her uncle said, removing his uniform jacket.
    She shook her head. “I can’t help but think about those men below.”
    He shrugged as if they were of no consequence. “They are treated well if they do their work. You need not worry about them. Look ahead, instead. Look to England. Your home.”
    “My home is in Spain.”
    An impatient look flashed across his face and the charming uncle dissolved as his voice took on a harshness. “I must leave you now,” he said. “You and I and my first officer will sup together tonight.”
    She didn’t want to sup with the first officer, who looked at her with greedy eyes and never missed a chance to brush against her. He was coarse and loud and seemed to enjoy the misery below deck.
    “I am tired,” she said, “and if I am to be at my best I should retire early. Also my maid continues to suffer. Could you please send something to my cabin?”
    “I will send something for her, querida mia. ” He fastened her with his dark eyes. “But you will join me for supper.”
    Her uncle left her and she remained where she was, enjoying the fresh sea breeze.
    Then she heard the sound of a key turning in a lock and turned toward the grate leading down to the rowing deck. A young boy waited as the grate opened. His ankles were encased in metal bands linked by a chain and he carried a bucket that seemed too heavy for him. He had no shirt, and his arms were bruised. His eyes were lowered as he descended into the oarsmen’s deck.
    She instinctively glanced down after him.
    Rows of nearly naked men lay over oars. She saw blood on the back of one. She knew she should look away and started to do so when one of the oarsmen looked up.
    Several days’ beard covered his cheeks, but his hair had been cropped short. His eyes met hers and his mouth turned up into a sardonic smile, even as he straightened to hold her gaze. His eyes were fierce, glowing with anger. And hate.
    Then he looked away, arrogantly dismissing her as if she were less than a bothersome fly.
    “Juliana?” Her uncle returned to her side. “I would stay away from the grate,” he said, a frown on his face.
    She would have no trouble following her uncle’s order. The image of the oarsman was seared into her mind, especially the hate. She’d shuddered and her uncle apparently misunderstood it.
    “They cannot harm you,” he said. “They are well secured.”
    But it hadn’t been fear she felt, rather pity and horror.
    “The boy . . .”
    “A thief from Madrid. He is lucky he is not at the oars,” her uncle said indifferently. Then he changed the subject, as if bored with the current one. “We will be running close to France,” he continued. “Do not light a lantern at night.”
    “We are not at war with France now.”
    “Some do not recognize that fact,” he said.
    She glanced at the two small cannons, one on each side of the ship. They would