Prologue

“You are no son of mine!’’

Philip Sedgewick paused with his hand on the door as his father’s words echoed in his mind, his blue eyes glistening with anger and frustration as he set his jaw.

“You were born to be my heir, the dukedom should be your sole focus of interest,” his father repeated for the hundredth time since Philip had announced his plans to leave a few days prior. “And don’t think you will ever see a penny from me ever again if you walk out that door,” his father went on, his voice thick with ire.

“Henry, please…” his mother tried to reason with him in an attempt to bridge the gap. “Philip could still join the Royal Navy Academy and be your heir when he’s done…” her kind voice pleaded, concern dimpling her beautiful face.

“I will not allow it!” his father yelled, sweeping out an arm and sending the items on his desk crashing to the floor.

Philip shut the door and turned back to his parents as hundreds of documents fluttered to the floor in a blizzard of paper. A single letter opener slid across the floor, landing at his feet. Bending down, he picked up the miniature sword that proudly boasted the family crest, turning it over in his hand.

The look of anger on his father’s face let him know that no rational agreement would be reached between them, not for a while, at least. His mother shot him an apologetic look with her bright, blue eyes.

“Father, although I respect the role I am to play in this family. I have to be true to my dreams and follow my heart. Joining the navy has been a dream of mine ever since I sailed across the coast. I am old enough to make my own decisions.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have let him run free with that blasted boat!” His father shook his head while storming across the room to the window overlooking the estate. “Your place is here, learning how to be a duke, not sailing across the ocean like a sitting duck! What if something happened to you? Who would take my place? This family would be in ruin!” Henry marched back over to his desk.

“It’s a risk I am willing to take,” Philip said coolly.

“What?!” His father slammed his hands on the top of the desk, sending the final remnants of parchment fluttering to the floor.

“I have to be true to my dreams, Father; if you can’t understand that, I may as well be dead to you since you are threatening to disown me in any case,” he regretted the words as soon as he saw the expression on his father’s face. He hadn’t wanted things to unfold like this, but now, here they were. There was no turning back.

Elizabeth Sedgewick, his mother, looked at him with tearful eyes, a mixture of pride and hurt displayed across her face. She wanted nothing more than for her son to follow his dreams, but she knew those dreams came at a price.

“I’m sorry you don’t accept what I am doing, Father, but it’s done. I’m leaving tomorrow for my training. You may have been content with this life as a duke,” he said, opening his arms and gesturing to the large room with its high ceiling, lavish décor, and fine furnishings. “But I want more; the sea calls to me with an insatiable thirst that must be quenched.” He looked at his father with pity for the lack of understanding on his face. “I want more, and I hope, in time, you can be happy for me.”

He turned to leave without giving his father a chance to reply.

“Don’t you dare take another step, Philip!” his father yelled as Philip placed his hand on the door. “If you leave this room, you will never see my face again! I promise you that!”

Turning again, he looked at his mother, mouthing the words, ‘I love you’ before turning the handle and exiting the room.

***

The salty air whipped at his face as Philip’s carriage rattled into the bustling port of Portsmouth, home to the Royal Navy Academy. His heart sang with joy at the sight of sailors and overly zealous merchants flogging their wares. This is home, he thought as he stepped from the carriage and onto the street. His heart was never more at home than when he could hear the crashing of the waves, with the gulls crying overhead; even the odor of freshly caught fish filled him with a sense of peace.

He hoped and prayed that his father would accept his decision in due course; he belonged on the sea just as much as a fish belonged in water, and birds belonged in the air.

His mother had been proud of him for leaving, she’d told him so the night before he’d told his father. Follow your heart, my darling… He smiled to himself as he stepped onto the dock with his sack of belongings slung over his shoulder, joining the queue of men for the navy.

Amongst these men, he was an equal, not Philip Sedgewick the heir or Philip Sedgewick the son of Henry the Duke. He was himself, stripped of all convention.

“This is it, Philip,” he whispered with a contented heart. “Your life has finally begun.”

Chapter 1

Mighty waves beat against the ship as midshipmen scurried about the decks, dropping the anchor and ensuring all was in order. Rain beat down, and seagulls screamed; the storm had raged on throughout the night, showing little sign of letting up anytime soon.

Philip Sedgewick stood at the helm with his hands behind his back, his once-youthful face aged and handsome with a hint of stubble on his chin. He planned on shaving as soon as the ship was in port; his rooms were ready and waiting for him back at the Academy, something he’d been looking forward to all night.

“All is checked and in order, sir. Ready to disembark at your word.”

He turned to see one of the midshipmen standing behind him with his hand raised to his brow in a salute; he still wasn’t used to being addressed as sir since his recent promotion to captain. “Very well,” he said with authority and pride. “You may give the orders to disembark. Ensure all the men are at ease; this storm is nasty even at port.” His legs stood firm as the rain beat down.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” The young man saluted as he turned around and descended the stairs leading to the decks. His neat white shirt and breeches with the signature black tie and cap reminded Philip of himself when he’d started as a midshipman all those years ago.

The time had flown by in the blink of an eye since the day he’d stepped onto the docks. He’d seen his mother a couple of times whenever she managed to sneak away, but his father had remained true to his word and kept his distance, never showing his face again. Philip also knew better than to go home, flaunting his disobedience in his father’s face. Perhaps this time will be different. He thought as he looked out over the waves. He was an officer now; surely, his father would be proud.

“Sir?” The same midshipman from earlier drew his attention back to the present.

“Yes?” he straightened the buttons on his navy coat and fixed his sea-blown hair that was soaked to the scalp.

“A gentleman is awaiting your presence in your cabin, sir,” the midshipman half yelled with respect over the crashing waves as he hung onto the ship’s railing.

Philip frowned at him. “We are about to disembark, who would request my presence in my cabin? Could he not have waited for me in my rooms? Is he an officer?” He wondered if it wasn’t one of his friends coming on board to congratulate him.

“The gentleman did not offer a name, sir, and I do not think he is an officer, but he was most insistent that you’d be happy to see him in your cabin, sir.” The boy spoke with the stiff manner taught by the navy when addressing a superior.

“Very well,” Philip nodded his head. “Thank you for your service, midshipman,” he saluted the boy. “You may disembark.”

“Thank you, sir.” The lad saluted a final time before turning and marching across the deck with wobbly legs.

Philip smiled to himself; the boy would go far in the ranks if he kept up his manners and will to succeed. He was eager and willing, much as he had been at that age. His thoughts drifted to his cabin as he descended the stairs, curiosity igniting a spark of hope in his chest. Perhaps Father has changed his mind after all. The thought brought him joy as he reached the deck and pushed open the door to his cabin.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, young Master Philip…? My apologies,” he added, smiling with what looked like pride, “it’s Captain now, isn’t it?”

Philip’s disappointment quickly withdrew as excitement took over at the sight of his father’s lawyer sitting in his cabin.

“Mr. Wetherbee!” he exclaimed with joy. “How did you manage the trip?” He teased in the way they’d both been accustomed to as he grew up. “Aren’t you too old to be traveling by carriage?”

“Away with you,” the old man laughed and shook his head as he struggled to stand. “There’s life in this old body yet.”

Philip came forward and gripped his arm, helping him back into his seat in front of the desk. He could feel through his suit that the man had gotten on in years. George Wetherbee had been a lawyer to the estate as far back as Philip could recall. Once a tall and proud middle-aged man, he was now thinning and frail, with a scarcity of hair on his head.

Philip shut the door against the storm as he walked around his desk and took his seat. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked with a smile.

“I’m sorry to ambush you like this, Philip, but the news simply couldn’t wait, and, as you know, your mother is in no fit state to travel.”

He frowned at the look of concern on the old man’s face, and a sinking feeling in his stomach let him know something was wrong. “Is all well with the estate?”

George nodded solemnly. “The estate is standing just as it was when you left and will be so on your return,” Wetherbee said, his kind eyes searching Philip’s face. “It’s your father, Philip.”

He took a deep breath as the panic began to set in. “Has something happened to him?”

“It was late yesterday evening when your mother sent for the doctor. She thought there’d be time for you to come, but I’m afraid he didn’t last the night. I’ve been traveling all evening to get to you here.” His light-brown eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Phillip, but your father is no longer with us.”

Phillip pulled out a chair at the desk and sank into the seat. He never knew of my promotion… he thought as the shock took hold. The letter he’d written to his mother wouldn’t have had time to reach them yet. He’d still thought he had plenty of time to mend the break. The meager hope of a possible reconciliation with his father was now cruelly dashed.

“I know this must come as a shock to you,” George said kindly, leaning in and patting his hand. “Your relationship with your father was always strained, I know, but he was your father. As you were his son, even after the things he said about cutting you off, his will was never changed.”

The old man’s words washed over his mind, leaving a void. “Was he ill?” he asked as he looked up, raking his hands through his sandy-blond hair.

George nodded in response and pursed his lips. “He’d taken ill quite a while ago; he forbade your mother from telling you… Dropsy of the heart, I am afraid. There was nothing anyone could do about it.” He looked at his hands for a second before continuing. “He was a proud man, Philip. He didn’t want you to know.”

Nobody needed to tell him about his father’s pride; he’d experienced the brunt of it in his life, and the shock was replaced with guilt and anger as he thought of him now. Images of the proud man he was with a muscular body and upright spine filled his mind. How did a man like that end up dying overnight? No, it wasn’t overnight. He didn’t want me to know.

“I have already spoken to your commanding officers on your behalf,” George continued after a while, breaking through Philip’s thoughts. “They have given you leave until further notice and sent for your things to be packed. You will be leaving with me at once.”

Philip’s head shot up in disbelief. “Until further notice? I have a duty to the navy; I’m an officer. Surely, the funeral will take no more than two weeks?” He dreaded the answer as the man stared back.

“This can’t come as a shock to you, Philip,” George said slowly, allowing time for the news to sink in. “This is standard procedure for a midshipman, and even a captain, with other responsibilities. You are the sole heir of the estate.”

Philip suddenly stood and turned about the cabin, feeling like a deer caught in a snare. The walls suddenly felt too small. “I have a life… A duty…” Lightning struck suddenly as the storm raged on, rocking the ship back and forth.

“To your family and the estate,” George said sternly. “This is the station you were born into.”

“Surely, as my father’s widow, my mother will inherit the estate?” He sought a solution that wouldn’t include the downfall of his dreams. “This does happen from time to time, does it not? Someone will be appointed as an aide while you search for a distant heir. My mother will not be left alone if I decline the position.”

“The entail law does not apply while you are still alive. You are and will remain the heir and your mother’s protector until you pass.” The kind look returned to the old man’s eyes as he lowered his voice. “And I hope that is very far off.”

“Do I have any choice in the matter?” Philip asked quietly, pushing his wet, matted hair aside as he looked at the lawyer.

George pushed himself up, retrieving his cane from beside his chair. “I’m afraid not,” he said as he placed his hand on Philip’s shoulder. “I have always been very proud of you for all you’ve achieved, but life has dealt you a new hand, and we must all play with the cards we receive. I hope that in time, those words will bring you comfort.”

Philip continued to stare at the wall with a blank expression as the man made his way out of the cabin, hobbling on his cane against the storm.

“And, Phillip,” he said from the doorway, “I’ll be waiting for you in the carriage… Your mother needs you, so I hope you will come for her sake. Nobody can force you, but your mother will be left alone otherwise.”

“So, I’m forced by obligation in that case. The illusion of choice.”

George said nothing as he left the room, letting the cabin door slam shut in his wake.

Philip sank back into his seat, weeping as he placed his face in his hands. Everything he’d worked so hard to achieve was slipping through his fingers like sand. After all these years, he had no choice but to return to the place he’d left behind. Standing again, he straightened his jacket and walked over to the mirror beside his bunk.

The interior of the tiny wooden cabin was as neat as a pin, with enough room for a bunk, a desk with two chairs, and his trunk.

His hair was damp and tousled, and his eyes were tired and drawn from the shock. He began to remove his coat but stopped. No. He spoke firmly to himself as he pulled on the hem and fixed his hair. He’d worked hard to earn his current station in life; he’d return to the estate with his head held high, wearing his uniform with pride. Come what may, a navy captain he was.

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