Chapter 1

Late 1800’s...

Ainsworth Castle, near Manchester England was the largest castle in the land. When one stood just outside the doors of the giant castle, it was difficult to see where the Ainworth’s land ended and the Summerfield’s land began.

Lord Marcus Ainsworth had two sons, Jeffrey and Patrick. At 23, Jeffrey was the oldest and next in line to rule over Ainsworth Castle. He was honored to have that privilege bestowed upon him.

At 20, Patrick felt his brother was more than welcome to take over as Lord of the manor. He wanted more from life than being a pampered rich boy who had everything his heart desired. He wanted adventure, excitement.

That, of course, had always been a tender spot with his father. Marcus never understood his younger son’s desire to be less than what he was. He often walked away from an argument, for fear he would anger his son and make him leave.

Neither Jeffrey nor Patrick had any problems attracting the women they desired. Both stood just over six feet. Jeffrey had collar-length blonde hair that quite often hung in his face, obscuring his piercing blue eyes. Patrick inherited his mother’s deep green eyes and black hair, which he usually wore in a ponytail, tied loosely with a thin leather strap. Both men had well-developed muscles and electrifying smiles. With a smile or wink, either of them was able to entice a woman into doing whatever they wanted.

Jeffrey’s prowess with women was known around the land. Even the lowliest village woman was privy to the stories of Jeffrey Ainsworth’s conquests. Patrick was the opposite of his brother, closed off from everyone, including his own father. He’d kept his emotions hidden since just after the death of his mother.

The Ainsworths and the Summerfields were friendly and often hosted parties together. They invited the commoners from surrounding villages, as well as the elite of English nobility.

At the last party of the summer, Marcus Ainsworth and William Summerfield sat in the parlor just off the main ballroom of Ainsworth Castle and chatted about their families and the upcoming autumn festival in Manchester.

“I do not understand why Patrick has such thoughts, William.”

“He is still young, Marcus. Perhaps it is just a stage he is experiencing. Once he realizes what he would be giving up, he will come around.”

“Perhaps you could have Penelope persuade him to stay?”

“She is a headstrong girl, but I do not think even she could persuade him.”

“They’ve known each other their entire lives, William. Did you not say that Penelope is hoping to one day wed Patrick?”

“Ah, yes. She has been smitten with Patrick for as long as I can remember. When she learns of his plans, she will be heartbroken.”

Penelope Summerfield was headstrong as her father stated, a trait she’d inherited from her mother. One month before Penelope’s 18th birthday, her mother died when a horse trampled her after a terrible fall. That accident left Penelope and her father alone in Summerfield Castle.

Penelope had just turned 19 a few days before the party. Her long blonde hair, amber eyes, and curvaceous figure made her the object of affection of most of the men in and around Summerfield and the surrounding areas. “I wish mother could be here to help me with my hair for the party,” she said in a sad tone as she pulled the brush through her soft hair.

She grew up with Patrick, and over the years, she had fallen in love with him. She knew he didn’t feel the same way about her, but she was happy just to be able to see him nearly every day.

As Penelope danced with Jeffrey, she glanced around the room looking for Patrick. When she saw him sitting in a corner by himself, she ended her dance and made her way to him.

“Good evening, Patrick.”

“Good evening,” he replied quietly.

“It is a lovely night.”

“I suppose so. I had not noticed.”

“May I sit with you?” Penelope asked, her hands and voice trembling from the excitement of being so close to him.

“Please,” he replied. He scooted to the side on the small sofa and motioned her to join him.

“Jeffrey tells me you want to leave Ainsworth Castle.”

“Yes. I have plans to sail with Captain Turnbull in two days’ time.”

“Where will you go, Patrick?” Penelope asked, trying desperately to hide the sadness in her voice.

“America,” he replied, gazing into her eyes.

“What waits for you in America that you cannot find here?”

“A new life! I am bored with my life here. I want adventure and excitement! What better way to achieve both than to sail with Captain Turnbull to America?”

“Will you do something for me before you leave?”

“That depends on what it is, Penelope. I hope you do not expect -- “ he started.

She placed a finger to his lips. “I just want you to dance with me once before you depart. Since this is the last party of the summer, what better place?” She wanted to ask him to take her along, but she knew he would refuse. Being naive in the ways of men and women, she didn’t know what she could do to persuade him to stay.

A smile spread across Patrick’s handsome face. He rose to his feet and offered his hand to help her up. “I would be honored to share a dance with you, Lady Penelope,” he said, causing her to blush.

“No one calls me that anymore, Patrick,” she replied, following him to the dance floor.

Both Jeffrey and Patrick had a difficult time dealing with their parents’ separation. Daria Ainsworth met and fell in love with one of Captain Turnbull’s men and left her family to be with him. The Ainsworths had received word that their mother was killed when the ship she was on had been attacked by pirates.

Jeffrey and Marcus have dealt with the loss and moved on with their lives; however, Patrick never did get over it. There was always a look of sadness in his eyes, and he would cry himself to sleep some nights while thinking of his mother.

“I wish there was something I could do to convince you to stay, Patrick,” Penelope said as they moved easily around the dance floor.

“I would only be miserable if I stayed, Penelope,” he replied, refusing to look her in the eye.

“What will you do in America?”

“Start a new life. I am not sure what my path will be yet.”

The song ended, and Penelope pulled away from him. She curtsied and turned to walk back to the sofa they had just left. Patrick grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. Their eyes locked, and she felt the beat of her heart increase.

“Why do you want me to stay, Penelope?” he asked.

“Because -- I -- because this is where you belong,” she replied, tearing her eyes away from his, still unable to reveal the true reason she wanted him to stay.

“I have never felt as if I belonged here.”

She pulled her arm from his grasp and pushed past him, heading for the exit. She tried to hold back the sobs that wanted to break free. The man she loved was leaving, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Jeffrey saw how upset Penelope was and rushed out the door after her. He found her sitting on a stone bench under a tree at the end of the long footpath that led up to the castle. He called her name quietly as he approached, not wanting to startle her.

“Oh, hello, Jeffrey,” she said, keeping her gaze fixed at the ground.

“What, or should I say who, has you so upset, Penelope?” he asked, taking a seat beside her.

“Your stubborn fool of a brother,” she replied quietly.

“Have you told him how you feel?”

“It would do no good to reveal my feelings for him, Jeffrey. His mind is made up, and I cannot change it.”

“Then perhaps you can persuade him to take you along?” Jeffrey replied, hoping she wouldn’t be able to convince Patrick to stay or to take her with him.

“As much as I would love that, I cannot leave my father.”

A small smile graced his lips as he reached for her hand. He held it gently and caressed her knuckles with his thumb. Exhaustively, Jeffrey tried to contain the feelings of excitement and desire that coursed through his veins whenever he touched her.

“Patrick is a fool to not see what is right before him,” Jeffrey said, no longer willing or able to keep his feelings for Penelope hidden. His words made her blush. She looked up and into Jeffrey’s eyes, unsure of what she saw there. She held his gaze a few seconds longer before she turned her eyes away and gazed off into the distance.

“He does not love me, and I cannot force him to.”

Jeffrey released her hand and rose to his feet. He turned and walked back toward the castle. He knew Penelope was in love with Patrick, and he didn’t want to scare her off by revealing how he felt about her. It was time to deal with his pig-headed brother.

“You’re a damnable fool!” Jeffrey barked at his brother as he sat down beside him.

“Not this again,” Patrick breathed wearily.

“Yes, this again. Can you not see that Penelope is in love with you, Patrick?”

“I know she is, Jeffrey. But I also know you are in love with her.”

“I -- wha -- how did you know?” Jeffrey stammered.

“I see the way you look at her, brother. Any fool can see that you are in love with her.”

“But she is in love with you.”

“Yes, but with me leaving, she will need consoling, and you are just the man for the job.”

Jeffery and Patrick glanced at the door. They watched as Penelope slowly made her way toward her father. She stopped when she saw them and gave a shy smile. When she reached her father, she leaned in and spoke into his ear. William glanced over at the two brothers with a scowl, turned and spoke to Marcus, then rose to his feet and escorted his daughter out of Ainsworth Castle.

“You will take care of yourself, my son?” Marcus asked as he, Jeffrey, and Patrick stood at the end of the dock.

Patrick glanced over his father’s shoulder at the carriage approaching and saw Penelope glance out the window. He motioned for her to join them on the docks for one last farewell, but she’d said her goodbyes at the party. She smiled and waved, then shook her head no. She blew him a kiss, then wiped a tear from her eye as the carriage passed the dock.

He lowered his eyes and felt sadness at the fact that he had broken her heart. Jeffrey will be there for her, he thought as he turned his gaze back to his father.

“Yes, father. It will be a long journey, and as soon as I am settled, I will get word to you.”

Marcus hugged his son and turned to walk back to their carriage. Jeffrey and Patrick stared at each other silently. Patrick heard a voice behind him and turned to see the angry Captain Turnbull approach.

“Ainsworth! You are late! We should have departed an hour ago!”

“Yes, sir!” Patrick replied. He turned his gaze back to his Jeffrey. “Take care of yourself, brother.”

“You too,” Jeffrey replied when he embraced his brother in a quick hug. “Safe journey.”

Patrick broke their embrace and picked up the small leather satchel that contained only basic necessities. He followed the captain along the dock and turned once more to give his brother and father a quick wave before walking up the gangplank to the massive schooner that would be his home for the next two weeks.

Captain James Turnbull came from a long line of sailors. He rarely set foot on dry land and could often be found sailing in the pirate waters off the coast of Madagascar. He wasn’t a typical pirate, however. He would only fight when provoked, often defending the honor of his homeland. He was never recognized as a pirate, but rather as a privateer, with full authorization from the British government to attack and capture enemy ships.

“Your cabin is located next to mine, Lord Ainsworth,” Turnbull said as he led Patrick to the lower deck of the ship.

“Please, I do not wish for anyone to know who I am, Captain Turnbull.”

The captain stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at Patrick. “What shall I call you then?”

“Patrick is fine.”

“Well, then -- Patrick,” he paused. “You will have the best cabin on the ship, second only to mine --”

“NO!” Patrick shouted, nearly running into Captain Turnbull as he stopped again.

“What is it now?”

“I wish no special treatment, Captain. Please do not think of me as a guest aboard your ship, but as one of your crew. I will do whatever is asked of me.”

“Very well, Patrick,” Turnbull paused again. “Stow your belongings and meet me on deck. There is plenty of work to be done before we reach America.”

“You hav’n yourself a good time there, rich boy?” one of the crew said as he watched Patrick repair another mast that had broken in the fierce winds.

Patrick ignored the torment from that man, just as he ignored it from all of them. He worked hard and earned his keep on this ship over the past two weeks, the last thing he needed was to start a fight and get kicked off when they were so close to Virginia.