by Carol Arens
He was Rees Dalton and he worked aboard ship.
Also, and any woman with eyes would know this, he was an exceptionally handsome man. Who had eyes that colour of blue and a gaze so penetrating that it looked into you as much as at you?
No one she had ever met.
Of course his hair begged for touching. It was neither straight nor pincushion curly, but fell past his collar in loopy waves.
The man did confuse her. For all that he acted in charge of everyone, he was a labourer. Even though he had the vocabulary and self-assured stance of someone who ought to be dressed in a finely tailored suit, he wore a sweaty scarf around his neck and smelled of coal and ash.
Ordinarily, she had no trouble figuring people out, as long as one did not count Bertrand Fenster. She had quite lost her mind over him, the second-most handsome man she had ever met.
The man she was now married to—at least for a time—was a puzzle. One she was interested in solving. Perhaps she was feeling a bit better because of late she had not been interested in anything beyond the blasted enamel pot with the sickening image of a vine slithering about it.
The doorknob turned.
She closed her eyes. If Rees Dalton thought she was awake, he would try to force her to drink some wicked-tasting tea, or eat a hunk of crusty bread.
She listened to his footsteps crossing the floor to the water basin, heard the rasp of his hands and smelled the clean scent of soap while he washed.
‘Madeline.’ His accent sounded British with a dash of Scots to salt it. Her own bland cadence was far less interesting to listen to. ‘I know you are not asleep.’
She tried to snore, but the sound came out an embarrassing snort.
Caught out, she opened her eyes, eased up to her elbows.
‘How are you feeling this afternoon?’
Afternoon? Lying abed in a room with no windows had made her lose track of time passing. All the moments melded.
‘Wretched.’
He looked down at her through the mirror, smiling. He would smile since he was not the one with the mutinous belly.
‘I see you have not used the pot since I left this morning.’
‘Only because I’m too weak to reach it,’ she complained, then instantly regretted the words. Now he would insist more forcefully that she eat the bread he was reaching for.
He knelt beside her, lifting the crusty slice to her mouth. He nodded, which was a more encouraging way of telling her to eat than last time when he had outright insisted.
‘If you eat it, I’ll take you outside to see the sunset. The storm is passing and, with the lingering clouds, it ought to be a beautiful sight.’
‘As lovely as that would be—’ and it would if she had the strength to stand. This illness had left her weak, and skinny. Bones poked in places that used to be nicely rounded. ‘—I don’t feel it right to parade on deck in your shirt.’
Because he held the bread under her nose, she took a nibble. It did not taste as vile as it had last time.
There might be a chance she would survive this after all.
‘Yes...well...’ He glanced about in confusion, which was interesting. As of yet she had not seen that expression on his face.
Somehow, she managed to finish the bread.
Rees pressed the mug of tea into her hands. Oh, good, her hands were not shaking. Before now, he had needed to steady the cup.
For all his high-handed manner, she did believe he had a nurturing heart.
He’d proved it time and again by not complaining about sleeping on the floor after what was clearly a hard day’s work in the fire room.
Not once had he grumbled about it—or anything else.
Quite the opposite, he had shown nothing but gentle compassion in tending her in her illness. He smiled in the face of her frowns. Really, who could resist returning the gesture even when she was suffused in—well, she would rather think of how lovely it was when he brushed her hair. He had quite a gentle touch.
After hearing what he had done to save her life, she knew he was quite right when he insisted they must marry. She could hardly resent him for the necessity.
Not if she wished to walk about on deck without being stared upon as a fallen woman. She had no idea what people back home thought of her for running off. She suspected that Grandfather would have done what he could to keep her reputation intact, especially since he had devoted his life to making it shine with respectability.
Over the past few months it had been difficult being a woman getting by on her own. Satisfying in its way, but all things considered, she appreciated having a man—a husband—to watch out for her.
And not just any man. There was something about him that made her just—just wish she was not such a weakling when it came to resisting a compelling smile.
What, she could only wonder while looking over the rim of the mug at his encouraging smile, had the cost of their marriage been to him? Surely he had not gone on his late-night stroll seeking a wife.
In the grand scheme of things, three months was not such a long time. She would use it to get to know Rees Dalton. One more friend could only be a good thing.
A friend—not a husband in the true sense. That was something she did not even dare to daydream of.
While she sipped the tea, he removed his coat from the wall, slinging it over his arm.
Of course, there was no reason he should miss the sunset. She would not be envious, no, she—
‘Finished?’ He took the mug, then set it on the table across from the bed. ‘Give me your arm.’
What could he possibly want with her arm?
When she did not give it, he caught her wrist, slid the jacket sleeve over it, then did the same with her other arm. Next he wrapped a blanket around her legs.
It felt wrong for him to see her bare knees, but hadn’t he done more than look at them? And he was her husband now, so really there should be no shame in it, except that they were going to annul the vows, so that did change everything.
She would need to keep that thought in mind next time she got lost in his gaze.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Oh, and his lips... She would absolutely have to remember there were only three months of marriage between them when she watched him smile like—never mind.
He slid his arms under her and lifted her from the bed, then carried her outside the short distance to the ship’s rail.
The very air had a rosy glow to it and she knew the sunset would be unlike any she had ever seen. The same was true of Rees Dalton’s grin. It hovered somewhere between playful and assertive—with a bit of mischief creeping in.
So close, with her arms looped about his neck, she was doing a wickedly awful job of ignoring how he made her feel so warm—so lovely.
He laughed, just under his breath, then turned her chin gently but firmly towards the horizon.
‘Oh, my!’ What else could she say?
Of all the sunsets she had ever witnessed—and there had been many exquisite ones to give thanks for—this one was...
‘It’s like a ruby that caught on fire,’ she murmured in awe of the crimson blaze pulsing in the sky.
‘As though it slipped into the ocean,’ he added. His voice reflected the very amazement suffusing her. ‘As if it is burning under the water.’
‘Yes, just so.’
There were no better words to describe the display, so she did not try. Watching took her complete attention, nearly complete anyway. She was very aware of how strong the arms holding her were, how firm and muscled the chest she leaned against was.
‘Do you think it’s a sign?’ Rees whispered. Did he, like she did, think that speaking loudly would profane the moment? ‘Seeing this together and only one day wed?’
‘I think it’s a sign that the Creator has a magnificent hand.’
Did he mean ‘our’ as in humankind? Or did he mean ‘our’ as in Rees and Madeline Dalton?
Nothing could make her look away from the full glory of the sunset—except one thing.
She felt Rees’s gaze settle upon her. There was nothing to do but to answer the draw, to turn and look back at him.
How was it possible for her to look into those blue eyes and actually feel his thoughts? She was nearly certain he had not referred to the sunset alone.
‘I imagine,’ she whispered, ‘we will not know that until we become better acquainted.’
He nodded, gave her the smile that said so many things at once, then lowered his head and kissed her very tenderly on the mouth.
‘There,’ he said. ‘We have a start.’
* * *
The fire room was fiendishly hot. Rees figured he ought to be used to it by now, but even the act of breathing was misery.
He stripped off his shirt, tucked it into his trousers, then jammed his hat further down his forehead. While it would be cooler without the hat, it did serve to absorb the constant drip of sweat coming down his forehead. Even with it, his eyes would be red and burning by the end of his shift.
He glanced down the row of his fellow firemen. One of them sang while he worked; another one cursed.
Rees was a silent worker, occupying his time with thoughts, some random and some worth dwelling upon.
He wondered about these men, what their lives were like beyond this dark, stuffy chamber. One thing he knew: life would be easier for them once he returned home and made sure to double their pay.
He would also hire another water boy. For there to be only one to douse the men with buckets of water was not nearly enough.
The previous owner of the Edwina had neglected some important matters. What price could be put on the well-being of the crew? In his mind it equalled that of the safety of the passengers.
Glancing down the line, he noticed that one man, the fellow who was cursing, had slowed the pace of his shovel. It was crucial for the engines to remain at a constant temperature. Any sudden cooling could lead to disaster.
Luckily, the fellow beside the sluggard noticed and shouted for him to keep pace.
While they worked, Rees kept watch on the man. Something about him just felt off. He did not share the camaraderie evident with the rest of the crew.
Newly hired? Perhaps the reason was as innocent as that. Or was he keeping a secret about his sobriety?
The men working down here—or anywhere on the ship, as far as that went—must be reliable at all times.
With the discovery of the empty flask so nearby, he felt it important to be cautious. Carelessness, no matter the cause, could cause a great deal of damage to the ship.
Not that the vague knowledge helped much. It would take watching and luck to find what he sought.
Thinking of luck, he turned his thoughts to the new Lady Glenbrook. He had the feeling he had indeed got lucky in his marriage. He knew nearly nothing about her, but one thing he did know was that Madeline was kind.
He had not known even that much about his first wife when they married. Margaret had come from Scotland and he’d only met her the week before the wedding. With all the hustle involving the ceremony, they had not had a private conversation until the wedding night.
For all that their marriage was short, he had been content with it.
He had every hope that he would be with this one, as well. And not only for his own sake, but for the sakes of his little girls.
He thought Madeline would prove to be a good mother to them. More so than Miss Mosemore would have been. That lady had never seemed at ease with his children.
But Miss—no, Lady Glenbrook now had kept a family of strangers together at great cost to herself. This selflessness indicated that she had a tender heart.
Surely this could only bode well for Victoria Rose and Emily Lark.
How to go about telling Madeline about them, though? By rights he ought to have revealed their existence before reciting vows.
It was a rather large thing to find oneself suddenly married, but to find oneself a mother, as well?
Even though she could not have reasonably refused his proposal, he kept quiet about them.
For the sake of his brother’s future, which meant the future happiness of the entire family, he’d needed to wed this lady.
Now that he had, he must tell her about his daughters.
Once he did, he would need to convince her to remain wed to him! While he had offered her the annulment, he hoped she would not want it.
Marriage was a sacred and binding union, no matter how one went into it.
From the corner of his eye he spotted the cursing man stop working altogether to lean indulgently on his shovel. During the time he’d been down here in the fire room—the pit, as he thought of it—he’d never seen anyone do that.
‘Keep to it, man!’ his neighbour shouted while not changing the rhythm of his shovel. ‘Got to keep the temperature constant if you don’t want to blow us all up.’
The man scowled, but went back to work. With a sideward glance, Rees watched to see if his hand would stray to his pocket, to a hidden flask.
With an hour left to his shift, he let his mind drift back to a more pleasant subject.
That being last night’s sunset. The sight of the sky and the sea ablaze in crimson had been breathtaking, but not as breathtaking as watching his bride’s face. She’d been in awe of the beauty, the same as he had, but then she’d turned her gaze upon him.
Had he been walloped in the gut with a mallet, the effect would not have been as startling.
He wanted to hold her, cling to the instant when her eyes locked on his. What had passed between them had been intense.
It was the strangest sensation. He could not recall one like it. When she talked about them getting to know one another, he felt he already knew her.
Possibly because her life had been in his hands, quite literally, for a time, but he felt it wasn’t that.
It was more a knowing—a sense of rightness. Oddly enough, he thought that whatever the singular sensation was, she was feeling it, as well.
Or maybe it had been due to the sunset, to magic ripe in the air which made even the most unlikely thing seem possible.
Yes, it was unlikely that the beautiful stranger he had wed would want him beyond the three months—but it was not impossible.
* * *
Given that Madeline was sitting upright on the edge of the bed without feeling faint, she thought it likely that she was going to survive.
And if she was going to survive it was only natural to wonder about her future.
It was certainly nothing like what she had imagined when she purchased her fare on the SS Edwina.
Had it really been only days ago? Everything had been so logical then. She’d had a straightforward goal. Use the money she had worked half the summer to earn and then purchase her fare to England, where she would look for Grandfather and Clementine.
It had been far too long since she had seen them. Her heart ached with the need to hug Grandfather tight and laugh for no good reason with Clementine.
Surely the Earl of Fencroft would not be hard to locate, especially now that Rees had promised to help.
From all Grandfather had had to say about the Earl, he was active in society. Locating him ought to be a simple thing to do. Then, once she found him, she would find her family.
She would, as long as Grandfather had done what she expected him to do and brought Clementine to wed the Earl in her stead. Given that he was devoted to the cause of having his granddaughter wed an English nobleman, it was more than likely that they were in London.
Perhaps she would
even find them in time to prevent Clementine having to marry where she did not wish. It was Madeline who loved balls and festive parties. Clementine would happily spend her days teaching school.
All of a sudden, she gasped out loud.
What was she thinking? She could not marry Lord Fencroft in Clementine’s place. She was already married! It would be beyond scandalous to seek a quick annulment and then enter an even quicker marriage.
She simply could not.
It was still so natural to think of herself as a free and independent woman. Everything had happened so quickly, her mind was in a whirl.
She ought to have thought more of the consequences to her cousin before she ran away with a scoundrel. There were a great many things she ought to have thought of.
But since she had not, here she was married to a stranger. A handsome and intriguing stranger, who—for some reason—did not feel all that unfamiliar.
Of course, she had heard of kindred spirits and the like; everyone had. The same as they had heard of pixies and fairy dust.
Love at first sight could not be trusted; she had learned that hard lesson. What she sensed with Rees was not that. It was different in a way she could not quite figure out.
What she did know was that he had swept into her life like a whirlwind and changed it. For three months only, but would those ninety days change her whole life?
Naturally she was left to wonder what had changed for Rees when he saved her life.
Would he break a loved one’s heart with the news of his marriage? Would his lady wait for the annulment? No doubt she would not—what woman would stand for having her beloved married to someone else, no matter the necessity for it?
When all was said and done, she was grateful to be alive and seriously indebted to Rees Dalton.
Also, she was greatly fascinated by him. He was handsome, but there was more to him than that. Many men were handsome, but she sensed that with Rees, handsome went beyond a pleasant-looking face.
There were fellows who would have left her a ruined woman, gone on with their lives and perhaps rightly so.
Oh, but to Madeline, honour was a very handsome trait. Clearly it went soul deep in Mr Dalton. Having been deceived by a cad, she appreciated his integrity all the more.