Emigrating with an Earl

by Murdoch, Emily

  By God, what he could do to that body.

  Samuel turned over to lie on his back once more, trying to ignore the growing stiffness in his body at the thought of Margaret Berry. Her eyes fluttering down, as though frightened to look up. The way that she blushed each time she realised that she had caught his gaze. It was refreshing to be around such innocence.

  Not that he was bad, no: but he had never spent much time concentrating on being good. Samuel smiled wickedly as he recalled the lovers he had taken to bed before, but it faded as his thoughts turned once more to Margaret.

  This was different. She was different. He would not expect any of the delights of the bedchamber, that was absurd. But he needed a wife.

  Without a second thought, he rose up from his bed, quickly pulled on a linen shirt and left his cabin. It was a short journey to the deck where the sun was still rising, and he breathed in a lung of salty air.

  It felt so good, so refreshing to be free, uncaged and fearless, no longer hiding at various inns as he made his way across the country to London.

  He had lived in fear, constantly checking his back, changing his route several times in case he was being followed.

  And now here he was, standing on the deck of the Adelaide, with no one else around. He had the place to himself.

  And yet, despite the early hour, he did not. Though the seven bells that heralded the new day had not yet rung, there was a figure standing at the bow of the ship, looking out to sea. A face, too far away to distinguish, looked around and then returned to gaze at the ocean.

  Samuel sighed. Well, now that he had been seen he had no choice but to go and make friendly and courteous conversation. As the Earl of Kincardine, of course, it had always been his decision. He had snubbed plenty of gentleman and beautiful young ladies in his time, but he was not an earl any more.

  As he strode towards the figure, he almost laughed aloud when he made out Margaret Berry looking out to sea.

  “I did not think that mermaids were real, and yet here you are,” he said in a dry, winning voice.

  She turned around, her cheeks pink that turned to scarlet when she saw who it was. “Wh-What mermaid?”

  Samuel laughed, and leaned over the edge of the ship beside her as she stared at him, transfixed. “Perhaps you are a siren instead, you have so captured my heart.”

  “Y-Your heart?” She stared at him as though he had lost his wits. “You mock me, sir, and I-I do not appreciate it.”

  She was so innocent, so young, Samuel thought. She was perfect, and this was the perfect moment.

  Without a second thought, he dropped to one knee and clasped her hand in his. She gasped, and tried to tug her hand free, but he would not release it.

  “My dear Miss Berry,” he said with a smile that had felled far richer women than she. “I would be remiss if I did not say how captivated I have been with you ever since I saw you, and it would be my greatest honour if you would make me very happy, and consent to be my wife.”

  There, Samuel thought. Not too much, but just enough to give her a taste of what marriage with me would be like. Simple, straight to the point. Now all she had to do was simper, prevaricate that she was astonished by his proposal, and then accept.

  Margaret blinked, and then started to laugh. It was a small giggle at first, and Samuel thought it could have been a choke of gratitude, but as the giggle grew into a chuckle, he found himself rather uncomfortably kneeling before a laughing woman.

  No one had ever laughed at him when he was known as the Earl of Kincardine. Samuel bristled slightly, his temper rising, but he squashed it down and continued to gaze up at her.

  Margaret’s laugh faltered as she saw, to her obvious horror, that he was not laughing. “Y-You are in earnest?”

  “I have never been so serious about anything before in my life,” said Samuel, quite honestly.

  “B-But…but you cannot possibly love me,” stammered Margaret, a shocked and horrified look at her face. “You barely know me!”

  Partly because he wanted to make his point to her face to face, and partly because his knee was getting a little damp from the deck, Samuel rose.

  “I do not know you,” he said quietly, and although she tried to take a step backwards away from him, she was preventing from doing so by the rail of the ship. “And yet I like you, Miss Margaret Berry, despite yourself. I am looking for a marriage of convenience, nothing more.”

  She stared at him, her eyes full of suspicion. After a few moments, she said quietly, “Why?”

  Samuel bit his lip. He had known this question was coming, and he had not prepared an answer. He had always navigated life on instinct and wealth, his gut just as useful as his name, but now that he only had one he wondered whether he had relied too strongly on the other.

  “‘Tis of no real importance,” he began, but he was interrupted.

  “But it is of great importance to me!” Margaret narrowed her eyes slightly. “If you cannot even tell me that, then what hope would any sort of…of m-marriage have?”

  Samuel swallowed. “A little respectability would not go amiss,” he admitted carefully, “and any more than that I cannot say, but I can assure you that I am an honest man, and a good one.”

  The ship rocked slightly as the wind changed, and Samuel found himself rather unusually hoping that he could win her around. He had never failed to before, but now that he was stripped of his title, he had…well, only himself to recommend him. He had not expected that it would be tough.

  “And,” he said quietly, pulling out his trump card, “you would undoubtedly like to leave your Great Aunt.”

  Margaret smiled briefly, and then shook her head. “I-I do not…I think that I would…”

  Samuel grinned as she attempted to find the words to disagree with him, and could not.

  “You cannot possibly be serious,” she whispered, and she stared at him with desperate eyes, willing him to tell her the truth.

  Samuel nodded. “I am. Miss Berry, I could not be more serious. There will be no…no marital expectations, you understand? Just two people who have realised that they have mutual aims.”

  Margaret stared at him, her hands now clasped before her tightly as though she had nothing to hold onto save herself. “And what are those?”

  Samuel reached out and took her hands in his own, and found a sudden thrill shudder through him. “To live a simple and carefree life, without the need of others.”

  Her gaze did not falter for the first time as she faced him, her hands in his own, two lonely figures on a ship’s deck with one of the greatest questions between them.

  She swallowed. “You do not know me.”

  “And you do not know me,” countered Samuel, and he drew her hands closer so that they rested on his chest. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise as she felt the rapid beating of his heart. “Are you willing to take a chance on an emigrating man?”

  He had said all he could, and he had no more words to persuade her. All he could do now was wait, but he did not have to wait for long.

  Margaret took a deep breath. “I accept.”

  A surge of happiness that he could not explain and would not question rose up in his chest. “You – you are truly accepting me?”

  She laughed, and once again it was as though she had stepped out of the shadows of life and into the land of the living. “I must be mad, but I accept! We shall be married.”

  4

  “Married?” The captain’s voice was so loud that it echoed around the breakfast chamber, and Samuel sighed as every eye turned their way. “Married? You cannot be serious!”

  Margaret shook slightly as she stood next to him, her hand in his own, and Samuel attempted to ignore the slight mutterings that were growing now as more and more heads turned to their neighbour to mutter.

  Oh, this attention. Samuel cursed under his breath; he should have thought about it, he should have gone to Captain Goodwin after breakfast, when most of the passengers had retired to their cabins or gon
e up on deck. It was a difficult change of mindset, when you have been raised as the most important and noble person in the room.

  The last thing that he needed was every eye on him. What if he was recognised, noticed? But as the murmurs started to die down and a more natural conversational noise started to fill the room, Samuel tried to relax.

  He had always been a rather reclusive earl, and in hindsight that was his biggest blessing. No one seemed to equate the poor but cheerful Mr Brown with the ridiculously wealthy and haughty Earl of Kincardine.

  “Yes, married,” he said firmly in a low voice. “Miss Berry and I would like to get married, and as the captain of this ship, you can perform the ceremony for us.”

  “But – but this is only the second day since we have left port!” The captain spluttered, staring wide-eyed first at Margaret and then back to Samuel. “‘Tis the most wild and outrageous thing that I have ever heard, and I will tell you missy, I have heard tell of some strange things!”

  Samuel glanced at Margaret. It was now that he needed her to step forward, to repeat the lie that they practised. Her cheeks were pink, but her jaw was set.

  “W-We knew each other in London, captain,” she said softly, and there was just a hint of a smile that Samuel saw immediately start to win over the old sea dog. “Mr Brown was…was courting me there, and when my Great Aunt decided that we would visit the South of France, and likely not return from there, S-Samuel,” and here she swallowed, glanced over at him, and blushed deeper once more, “Mr Brown decided to follow me.”

  Sighs resounded behind him, and Samuel turned quickly to see that a lady he did not recognise and the Captain’s wife were seated behind them, and had beamed at the overheard story. One gentleman seated with them applauded. Samuel scowled at him, and he quickly desisted.

  “Ah, say no more, say no more!” Captain Goodwin beamed at Samuel, who had to work hard not to roll his eyes. As though he would do something so stupid, for a woman! “There is nothing quite like true love now, is there Mr Brown?”

  Samuel gritted his teeth. “Absolutely not, sir. Now, will you do us the honour of making us man and wife?”

  He almost started as Margaret squeezed his hand, and he glanced at her. She nodded at something over his shoulder, but before he could turn around a screeching voice rang out.

  “I object!”

  Now the entire room twisted in their seats to face the doorway, and from there hobbled Margaret’s Great Aunt. Samuel sighed. She was always going to be a problem, but he had hoped to avoid a scene.

  “You cannot possibly get married!” Great Aunt Sabrina shrieked at them, waving her walking stick at them threateningly. “I forbid it! You cannot do it!”

  Samuel opened his mouth to retort, undoubtedly in a rude manner that did not befit the older woman’s dignity, but he was beaten to it.

  “Why cannot I get married?” Margaret’s voice was quiet, gentle, but firm. Samuel saw her look at her Great Aunt without turning away, without that servile lowering of her head, and was momentarily impressed.

  So too, it seemed, was her Great Aunt. She stood gaping at her for a moment, and then managed to splutter, “You – you are too young, girl, only four and twenty!”

  It was impossible for Samuel to prevent himself now – he rolled his eyes. “My dear madam, as much as I hate to point this out to you, your great niece is over the age of one and twenty. Margaret – Miss Berry – may do what she likes.”

  Great Aunt Sabrina stared at him, and then narrowed her eyes. “No one has ever talked to me like that!”

  “Well then, perhaps it is time that someone should,” returned Samuel, with little spite but great feeling. “Margaret is an able, beautiful, and caring young woman, and has to date been rather unappreciated. I hope that from today, that will change.”

  He could see out of the corner of his eye that Margaret was staring at him. He turned to her, flashed her his most winning smile, and said softly, “It would take a fool not to notice.”

  Turning once more to the captain, who had been following these exchanges with wide eyes, Samuel sighed deeply.

  “You can see that there is no true impediment,” he said quietly. “Will you marry us?”

  Samuel’s heart pounded in his chest. It all came down to this moment: to whether or not the captain was willing to marry two people that, to all intents and purposes, had only just met. The plan would only work if they were married, and though he would very much just like to take Miss Margaret to bed, he doubted very much whether that would be a sufficient cover – especially with his reputation as a womaniser.

  The captain was looking at him appraisingly, and Samuel found himself unconsciously wanting to stand up a little straighter.

  “Both bridegroom and bride are over the age of consent,” shrugged the captain finally. “You are free to marry if you so choose.”

  Samuel’s shoulders sagged with relief, and to his surprise he felt a little squeeze of his hand from Margaret. His stomach twisted for a reason that he could not entirely fathom.

  “And can it be done today?” he asked hurriedly. “This morning?”

  A strangled splutter emanated from where Margaret’s Great Aunt stood behind him, but Samuel ignored it. The sooner they were wed, the better, but it was a great ask, even from him.

  The captain was in danger of losing his eyelashes under his eyebrows, so wide were his eyes, but with a laugh, he nodded and said, “Well, yes!”

  Samuel grinned, and turning to Margaret, brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I will meet you at the bow of this ship in your finest gown at eleven o’clock. Do my heart a favour, and do not be late.”

  Margaret was pale, paler than he had ever seen her, but she did not protest. Instead she murmured, “B-But I have no fine gowns.”

  “Anything will look fine on you,” he said courteously, the well-practised compliments tripping off his tongue, and he was pleasantly surprised and just a little astonished to see her blush, for the first time, with pleasure.

  Just like her laughter, it lit up her face, highlighting the beauty of her mouth, the delicate skin on her cheeks, and the curve of her collarbone.

  Samuel felt an urge to kiss that collarbone and had to restrain himself from dipping his head to her before the entire set of passengers and crew. Instead he bowed his head to her, and strode away to his cabin.

  It was there that he paced until the small carriage clock that he had propped up against the wall when he had first unpacked his own meagre trunk chimed the quarter to eleven. Tying his smartest cravat – a blue one with silver thread – Samuel left the cabin and made his way to the deck.

  There were many people there, curious people, which Samuel had expected. How many people could say that they had attended a wedding at sea? But as he went to stand right at the front of the deck, beside the captain who seemed to have washed his hands for the occasion, he only had eyes for one person.

  What if she did not come? What if she changed her mind at the last moment, decided that a marriage of convenience simply was not enough for her?

  Samuel tried to swallow down the fear, but it was more than just irritation at a plan going awry. He had known this Margaret Berry for what, twenty four hours? And already she puzzled him. There was a depth to her that few others had, and yet she kept it hidden.

  Why? Who was this Margaret Berry, really? What secrets did she hold? And would he ever be able to convince her that a marriage of convenience was far more fun when explored in the bedchamber?

  Samuel was forced out of his reverie by the sight of an elegant woman wearing a light blue silk gown, with curled hair pinned atop her head and a silver necklace of the latest style around her neck. Despite his impending nuptials, Samuel was not blind: he was a man, and as a man he could appreciate female beauty when he saw it.

  But he had not noticed that exquisite woman board the ship – had she been in her cabin all the while? His loins stiffened as she walked a little closer; she really was quite captivat
ing.

  And then Samuel’s jaw fell open. It was Margaret. Margaret, dressed in the latest fashion, in a gown that had actually been designed to show off a woman’s figure, rather than just hide it. Margaret, with her hair dressed and pinned elegantly, to show off her poise. Margaret, with jewels around her neck but nothing shone as brightly as her eyes.

  Samuel swallowed, and shifted his feet to try and make the stiffening of his body less obvious. The beauty that he had spotted had been cleaned, polished, and set like a precious stone, and now it was there for all to see. Where had she found such a gown?

  As she walked forward, she kept her eyes on Samuel at all times. When she reached him and held out her hand to him, he could see that it was shaking.

  “Dearly beloved,” began Captain Goodwin with a smile. “We are gathered here today…”

  “Thank you for being here on time,” Samuel whispered to Margaret, unable to hold his tongue. He wanted to talk to this beauty, this vision of womanhood whom he had hoped for but not expected. He wanted to hear her voice.

  She smiled, and Samuel could not help but stare at her even more as the prettiness of her expression became her. “Thank you for asking me to marry you.”

  “Thank you for saying yes.”

  Her smile broadened slightly as she whispered, “Thank you for ignoring my Great Aunt.”

  “Thank you for…for…” Samuel’s smile became one of embarrassment. He had never been left speechless before, and this Margaret Berry was the woman to do it? “My God, Margaret, but you are beautiful.”

  If he was not mistaken, the smile fractured a little around her eyes. “Inside, and out?”

  Samuel stared at her, at the worry and concern in her expression, and he squeezed her hand. “Inside and out.”

  Margaret relaxed, and turned her attention to the captain who, with a glare at the Great Aunt with her pursed lips and disapproving stare, was pointedly asking whether anyone there objected.

  Though her attention had moved away from him, Samuel could not help staring at her. Margaret Berry. Mystery, beauty, enigma.