“Would you like another?”
“I can’t,” Shay said, laying her spoon aside and crossing her hands on her belly. “I will have to be rolled down the stairs tonight if I eat another bite.”
“Lady Shannon, may I have the pleasure of a dance?” Lance reached out his hand to her. “I most likely need the practice in preparation for my wedding.”
“I told you, Doctor Devon, I can’t do nary a step, but for an Irish jig.”
Lance gave her a warm smile. “Well, then we can practice together.”
Shay looked around the table. Alyth tilted her chin, signaling for Shay to take advantage of the offer.
“In that case, how can I resist?”
Shay slid her hand into Lance’s as she followed him onto a dance platform. As Lance took her in his arms and locked his elbows to keep them a respectable distance away, Shay happened to glance over his shoulder.
Alyth and James were sitting at the table laughing and Mac stared intently at the couple dancing.
Shay saw his clenched jaw and a tic in his cheek. His eyes appeared angry, crinkled at the corners and his brow furrowed. She couldn’t imagine what made him so incensed as Lance began to lead her around the dance floor.
Chapter 7
Mac didn’t understand the intense emotion that washed over him as he looked at one of his best friends leading Shannon onto the dance floor. He knew Lance only had eyes for his fiancée, so Mac’s emotion was totally unwarranted.
“You look like a child who had their favorite toy taken away, Mac,” James said.
“W-what?”
“I think you are a little upset that Lance has taken your girl on the dance floor before you,” Alyth said.
Mac felt his jaw clench. “She’s not my girl.”
Alyth laughed. “She’s absolutely delightful, Mac. She might be very good for you. Give you a taste of how the regular folks live.”
“What does that mean, Alyth?”
Alyth picked up her wine glass and took a sip. “I spoke out of turn, Mac. My apologies.”
James pulled a cigar from his pocket. “I’m going to go outside and enjoy my cigar. Would you like to join me, Alyth?”
“That really is a nasty habit, James. I don’t understand how you men can engage in something so vile.”
James rolled the cigar in his fingers. “If you think it is vile, I will attempt to refrain from engaging in it. Perhaps a walk outside? It is a lovely evening.”
Mac’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. James was offering to stop smoking because Alyth said something? He had never known James to change his behavior for anyone or anything.
He watched as Alyth allowed James to lead her outside. He would have to find out his friend’s true intentions.
His attention returned to the couple on the floor. The music had turned livelier and the couples were now walking around the floor, weaving in and out of each other without touching. He noticed Shay was clapping her hands as she moved between the men and women.
Her skirt flared and he noticed her shoes were missing. She was dancing in her stocking feet! Mac lifted the tablecloth and peered underneath at her seat. There were his sister’s shoes discarded under the table.
Hopefully, no one had noticed! Lady Shannon was certainly a puzzle. One minute she acted regal, as a lady of high breeding would. The next she acted like a simple country girl, enjoying everything that life offered her.
He couldn’t reconcile both sides.
“Stop thinking so hard.”
Mac looked up to see Alyth taking a seat next to him. He didn’t have time to stand.
“I thought you went for a walk with James.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you back so quickly?”
“He asked to properly court me.” Alyth signaled the waiter. “May I have some coffee please?” The man nodded.
“I’d like one as well, thank you.” Mac turned back to his sister. “Court you? James Monroe doesn’t court anyone.”
Alyth shrugged. “Maybe he is changing.”
Mac snorted. “A leopard doesn’t change his spots.”
“But it is the lioness that holds all the power in a pride. Thank you,” she said, taking the cup of coffee that the server brought. Mac took his cup and then reached for the sugar bowl, adding a cube to his drink. “How about you? Are you ever going to change your spots?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Alyth,” Mac said sipping the sweetened brew.
Alyth added milk to her coffee and stirred until it became the color of caramels. “You have come to visit me every year for the past eight years. I have waited for your letters and your visits. It was the only connection I had to home. I often wondered why you have never married. I was hoping you might bring a wife on one of your trips. It would be wonderful to have a sister.”
“I was never interested in such things.”
“Hmmm. You know, my school friends thought you were the most handsome and mysterious man.”
Mac snorted. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment coming from a bunch of schoolgirls. I have no desire to court someone so young.”
“Maybe what you need is right in front of you? Maybe you need to take the opportunity while it can’t get away from you.”
“Is that why you are letting James court you?”
Alyth shrugged. “It would be nice to be engaged by the time we get home. We still have at least six weeks left to go. Besides, James is a perfectly respectable and eligible bachelor. I could do worse.”
“You can do better.”
“So, you think I should avoid someone because of their social standing?”
“No. I just know the reputation he has in New York.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to stay in New York forever.” Mac felt her eyes on him. “Would you ever marry someone who was in a different class structure?”
“I doubt Father would allow it.” He looked at Shay dancing. She appeared to be having a wonderful time. “You know how he hates the Irish. Almost as much as he hates the Scots. He would never condone us marrying one.”
“Who said anything about marrying an Irish woman?” Alyth looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. “Besides, that anger came to pass after Momma died.” Alyth finished her coffee. “The dance is over. Perhaps you should go secure the next one. I’ll walk over with you and I can dance with Lance.” Alyth giggled. “Didn’t mean to rhyme.”
Mac shook his head and stood, assisting his sister to her feet. They walked over to where Lance and Shannon were going to begin the next dance.
“May we intrude?” Mac asked Lance.
Lance bowed and took Alyth’s hand, leading her to where the dancers were setting up.
Mac watched Shannon twist nervously. “May I have this dance?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.
“I’d like that very much,” she said, her face lighting up with a grin.
Mac wrapped his fingers around Shannon’s hand. It was so much smaller than his own and fit perfectly in his grip.
“We will be dancing an Irish Country Dance. Find your dance partners and move into position,” the dance master called to the crowd.
“Oh, I can probably do this one!” Shay said.
“You were doing just fine with the other dances, Shannon,” Mac said.
“Were you watching?” Mac could have sworn she blushed.
“I couldn’t help it. You were the most beautiful woman on the dance floor.” He swung Shannon into his arms. He watched her look around.
She leaned closer to him. “That’s because all the other women are older than my máthair mhór.”
“Máthair mhór?” He tried to mimic her words. She laughed. He didn’t care if his pronunciation was a disaster if it made her laugh. “Is that Celtic for grandmother?”
“Aye.” She shifted in his arms. “The dance is about to begin.”
The music filled the air and the couples began to move around the floor in a series of predefined steps.
/> “I wonder what’s the difference between an English Country Dance and an Irish one?” Mac wondered aloud.
“The music. Irish dances are usually faster.” Shannon was correct as the music increased its tempo. The participants were nearly hopping by the time the dance finished.
He looked at Shannon. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were rosy. Her hair had fallen slightly from the pins he knew Alyth had stuck in there. Without thinking he reached out and took one of her ringlets in his fingers. The hair wrapped tight around his digit and didn’t let go.
Shannon lowered her eyes. A trait he found endearing. He wanted her looking at him, however. He reluctantly let her curl go and using his fingers, cupped her chin, lifting it so she had to look at him. “Let’s go for a walk,” he said.
Did that husky voice really belong to him? Shannon nodded and went to fetch her slippers. Once she was ready, he tucked her hand under his arm and led her to the open deck of the vessel.
“It is a beautiful night,” Shannon said walking over to the railing.
“Yes it is,” Mac agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the sky. “An absolutely beautiful evening.”
“I do hope you let Alyth make dresses when she gets back to New York. I feel like an absolute princess in this dress.” Mac didn’t respond. He moved closer to her.
“I don’t wish to talk about my sister,” Mac said. His voice was low. He placed one arm on either side of Shannon and leaned forward to inhale her scent.
She twisted in his arms, her hair smacking him in the face. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I just wanted to get closer to you.”
“I’m not that kind of lady, Mr. Mac,” she replied, placing her hand on his chest. He felt sure she could feel his heart pounding.
“I don’t think you are. Which is why I propose we spend the rest of the trip getting to know each other.”
“The rest of the trip?” her voice squeaked.
“Yes,” he said. Mac cupped Shannon’s face in his hands. “I want to spend the rest of the trip getting to know you.”
“I’d like that,” Shay said, lifting her chin. “I’d like that very much.”
She only had a moment to think before his lips claimed hers in a kiss.
Chapter 8
Kisses, kisses, and more kisses.
Shay would never get tired of Mac’s kisses. He was a perfect gentleman. Well not perfect, given that he kissed her as soon as they were out of sight from prying eyes. But it was close enough. Shay shuddered with delight every time he pulled her into his arms and pressed his warm lips against hers.
Perhaps she lied about being that type of girl. She knew that she didn’t want things to go any further than just a few kisses. She was straddling a dangerous line.
She had fallen into a quiet routine. She would spend the nights and the mornings below deck and then just around mid-day she would go to Alyth’s stateroom to get dressed for the day. She would have a light repast with the group and then spend time walking the deck with Mac or learning to play whist or hearts in the salon.
Each night they would sup together, and Mac would take her in his arms for another waltz around the dance floor. She treasured those moments in his arms, and when he would pull her close and whisper sweet words in her ear. Some evenings they left the table and went to the salon where men drank brandy and talked about the world’s events. Shay found herself learning more about the pending war in the states.
The women sat together and discussed the events to the side of the room. Shay was included, as she learned Mac was a man of some means. Apparently, he was well known in New York. They even assumed that she and Mac were either engaged or already married. Shay didn’t correct their opinions.
“It is so nice to see a young couple so much in love,” one of the women said.
Shay looked over at Mac. He was in a deep conversation with Doctor Devon and several other older men. He really was so dapper in his dark suit. He must have felt her eyes on him, as he turned and caught her watching him. He gave her a smile and a wink.
Shay lifted her fingers in greeting, giving a little wave before putting them back in her lap. She found herself pretending that what they had was real. She pretended that she was a lady of means and he was her husband. Even Alyth found excuses to leave her and Mac alone. Shay longed for those quiet moments more than anything.
Mac asked Shay questions about her background and upbringing. She was quick to change the subject. Let’s keep an air of mystery, she insisted. She made sure he didn’t know her last name or that every night she would slip off to the steerage compartment to feed Finn and sleep.
Alyth loaned her a reticule and Shay managed to sneak away part of her dinner when no one was looking. Finn was grateful for the extra food. Shay made him promise he would never speak of where it came from.
Three weeks had passed since her first dinner in the dining room. The captain came around to visit the tables and said that there was a good current pushing them towards America. The ship should arrive within a few days at the most. A foreboding filled Shay more than any she had ever known.
She knew she needed to put an end to visiting Mac every evening. Even though they were chaperoned all, well most, of the time, she was afraid she was falling in love with the merchant. Mac had been working closely with his sister and every night Shay had a new gown to model for dinner. She enjoyed it immensely.
Life was perfect. She didn’t even mind returning to steerage and sharing a bed with Neem because it meant one more day that she would be able to see Mac. Since several of the women had died, including Molly, it allowed the women to spread out as bunks were emptied.
Shay thought the whole thing rather horrific, but somewhere inside she was glad not to have to hang off the side of the bunk to rest. She helped wrap up anyone who may have passed in the night. She cried as they took the time to wrap the bodies in linen and gently slide them into the murky waters below. Etain still hadn’t recovered from her husband’s death. She would spend her days staring out the tiny window and singing a Celtic lullaby to Mariah. No amount of talking would snap Etain from her stupor.
The sun hit Shay right in the eyes. She didn’t have a clue what time it was. She had been having the most wonderful dream about Mac.
Shay stretched as she shifted in the bunk. She sat up and looked around the steerage. Etain and Mariah were missing. As well as Neem and Aofie. She remembered Neem mentioning that she was going to teach the exercises that Shay learned on to the men and women from steerage.
“You look happy this morning,” Cara said, smoothing out the sheet on the bunk. “Musta had some sweet dreams last night.”
“I did.” Shay gave a little smile.
“Did they involve a dark-haired man from first class?”
Shay gave a little gasp. Had someone told Cara? Was it that obvious what she was doing? She tried to keep to a routine so that no one suspected anything.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said. She dropped her legs over the side of the bed and slid her feet into her boots. Pulling a brush from her bag, she drew the bristles through her hair and tied it back with a frayed ribbon. “I better check on Finn and find breakfast,” she said. She quickly left the steerage and went to the second floor to use the privy. The lavatory, she silently corrected herself. That is what the folks in first-class called it.
She was headed to the third level to find Finn when she spied Aofie standing against the railing. Shay felt bad. She hadn’t really spoken to her friend in at least a week.
“Aofie!” she called.
Aofie glanced at her and then turned away without responding. Shay walked over and tugged on Aofie’s dress. It was the one she wore when they initially snuck up to the bathing room. The sleeve was thinner than when they first arrived on the boat.
“What is it, Aofie?”
“I’s got naught to say to you.”
Shay was confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”
/> “You’ve taken your charade far enough. Disappearing every night to dance and dine. Not coming to bed until late. I’m surprised you ain’t been caught.” She took a deep breath. “T’ain’t fair, I tell you. One night, I can see. But you keep sneaking up there every chance you get.”
Shay looked around, worried that someone might hear her. “Aofie! What has gotten into you?”
Aofie turned and pointed a finger to her chest, pounding on it. “I was the one that wanted to marry rich. I was the one that should have been the Lady. How do you think your Mr. Mac will react when he finds out you are a pauper like the rest of us?”
Shay stepped back. “You wouldn’t…” she started.
Aofie turned her head back to the water. “I shoulda. Would serve you right. Thinkin’ you are betta than us now.”
“I never said…”
Aofie’s eyes flashed back to her. “You dunna hafta. It is the way you walk and carry yourself now. Like you really are some lady and not a woman whose father sold her into slavery.”
Shay gasped. “I am no slave.”
“You will be once you get to New York. I heard it isn’t all that it’s supposed to be. In fact, it is worse. You think the steerage is bad, just wait until we get there.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Ask your friend.”
“Alyth?”
“Ya. I guess her father owns the largest factory in New York. He’s the one that paid for most of us to come over here.”
“Mr. Ward?”
Aofie nodded.
“But her last name is Macalister.”
Aofie shrugged. “I don’t know. Just knowin’ Mr. Mac won’t like it once he finds out who you truly is. Shay O’Donnell, not Lady Shannon.” Aofie pushed away from the railing. “I’s gotta go back to steerage. Where the cattle belong.”
“Aofie--,” Shay called, but it was no use. Her friend was already down the deck to the stairs leading below.
Shay turned and leaned against the railing. She lifted her face towards the sun, allowing the warmth to wrap around her. She caught a slight movement from the upper deck and used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.
New York Bride Page 6