“Some claret, perhaps?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ll have whatever you have.”
He nodded tersely and then went to the sideboard to pour their drinks. He returned with a tumbler full of amber liquid for each of them. He sat, swirled it around in his glass, watching the flames catch and refract on the crystal, and then took a long, fortifying drink.
Lowering his glass, he slid a glance at Meg, who swallowed hers with nary a flinch. He gave her a twisted grin. “Impressive.”
A fine line appeared between her brows. “What do you mean?”
“No sputters, no coughing, and not even a little bit of a gag. Looks like you’ve drunk your fair share of brandy.”
She gazed at the liquid in her glass. “Not brandy,” she said softly. “Rum. Sarah and I did a bit of our own smuggling. It’s a bit different. Harsher, I suppose. This is… fruity, in comparison.”
He chuckled. “That it is.”
After a moment of silence, both of them sipping their brandy, she asked, “Will?”
“Hm?”
“Before we leave London, Jake and I would like to see your house. I mean, if the invitation you issued earlier still stands.”
He blew out a breath and took another long swallow before he answered her. Then he gazed into her eyes. “It does.”
She gave him a small smile. “Thank you. Lord Stratford’s home is lovely, but it would be nice to call on at least one other person before I leave town.”
For the first time in a long while, Meg rose from her chair, extending her long, glorious limbs in a stretch. She walked to the sideboard to deposit her glass, her hips swaying in a delicate motion that mesmerized him.
“You’re more beautiful than ever.”
She froze, her hand still curled around the crystal. Then, slowly, she lowered the glass and turned to face him.
He rose, and his feet carried him to her before he had an opportunity to think about what he was doing.
When they were within arm’s length of each other, she tilted her head up, looking at him, her eyes silver in the fire’s glow.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “I understand your fear now. But we’ll find a way. I will keep you and Jake safe.”
“Jake and I will be leaving for Lancashire in a few days’ time. We’re not your responsibility.”
“I want you to be.” His voice was little more than a rough whisper.
“Why?”
He reached out and grasped her shoulders. “I want to try it again. I want to be with you. I want… I want to marry you.”
He blinked. Even he hadn’t expected to say that. But through his surprise, he realized it was the truth. He still wanted her in his life. Permanently.
Her eyes widened, and he shook his head at her expression of disbelief. “Listen to me… I still care for you, Meg.”
She licked her lips, a frantic gesture, and her eyes darted to both sides of him as if searching for a route of escape. Her shoulders shuddered beneath his hands before her gaze finally returned to him. “You can’t know that for certain, Will. You don’t know me. I’ve told you this before. I’ve changed. I have Jake to think about now.”
“Don’t hide behind Jake.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think that’s what I’m doing?” She jerked out of his hold and backed up several steps. “How dare you pretend to know how I feel? I’ve spent the last six years protecting Jake, nurturing him to the best of my ability. And you dismiss all that and say I’m hiding behind him? Damn you, Will Langley.”
Crossing her arms over her heaving chest, she turned away from him and stalked toward the door. Will thrust a hand through his hair. “Meg, stop. I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes as she hesitated.
“Don’t be angry with me.” He pushed out the words.
“Please. Don’t do this,” she said with her back to him, anger still resonating in her voice.
He shook his head. She was confusing the hell out of him.
She lowered her head into her hands. “This is too much. I just want to survive the next few months. I can’t… I don’t know how to face… you, or these… these feelings I thought were long dead boiling up inside me.” He opened his eyes to see her turning back to him, halfway across the room from him. “I have spent so long trying to survive, trying to help Jake and Sarah survive… and I failed with Sarah. I am so afraid I’m going to fail with Jake, too. And if I let these rekindling emotions push aside my concentration on Jake, I fear…” Her shoulders shook visibly now.
“I’m so afraid, Will,” she choked. “I remember you, but I don’t know you anymore. I know myself, and I know Jake, but I don’t know you!”
He strode across the room and pulled her into his arms. “You do know me, Meg. Let yourself know me again.”
She’d kept him—and her family—at arm’s length because she had a single-minded purpose—to keep Jake away from his father. Will understood that and he respected her for it, but if she let him in, he could help her even more.
He pressed his lips into her hair. Digging deep within, he found the patience that her reappearance into his life had seemed to obliterate. “I’ll wait. I’ll give you time. As long as you need.”
Minutes passed. It was hard to tell how many—Will couldn’t judge the passage of time when he held Meg in his arms. Finally, slowly, her arms reached up and slipped around him, and she laid her cheek against his chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and breathed in sugarcane. He wanted her. But she wasn’t ready.
“I’ll protect you always,” he murmured. “And that’s why I’m coming to Lancashire with you.”
Chapter Ten
An unmarked carriage arrived at Lord Stratford’s house late the following morning. Jake had been waiting, peeking out the drawing room’s front window, and he squealed when Will disembarked from the carriage.
“Captain Will is here, Meg! Captain Will is here!”
Meg calmly put her sewing into her sewing basket and glanced up at her sisters and Lady Fenwicke. Serena had been reading a Shakespearean comedy, Jessica was attempting to embroider a scarf, Olivia was writing a letter, and Phoebe and Lady Fenwicke were rifling around in the drawer holding the pianoforte music.
“Well, here it is,” Meg said. “My first outing.”
Jessica snorted. “Not really an outing if you refuse to spend any time outdoors. And it’s too bad, really, because it’s a beautiful day and the trees in Hyde Park have finally decided to bloom.”
Meg just shook her head.
Phoebe sighed. “Jess, you must stop badgering poor Meg to go outside.”
“Someday I will go outside, Jessica,” Meg promised.
“Someday soon, I hope,” her sister said.
A footman came in to announce Will, who greeted Meg’s sisters before turning to her. He held out a gloved hand to her, and she realized he hadn’t removed his hat or his coat. “Are you ready to go?”
She grasped his hand with her own bare one and allowed him to help her up from the chair, smiling at him. “I’m ready.” She slid a glance to Jake, whose brown hair was sticking up at odd angles all over his head. He had a habit of vigorously rubbing his hair whenever he was nervous or excited. “Jake is more than ready.”
He gave Will a brilliant grin. “My tooth is loose, sir. Would you like to wiggle it?”
“Jake!”
He cocked his head at her, frowning. Meg knew what he was thinking: “I said ‘sir,’ just like you told me to.”
“I’m sure,” she said in a gentler voice, “Captain Langley doesn’t wish to be poking his fingers into your mouth.”
Jake ignored her. Instead, he walked up to Will, bared his teeth, and pointed at one in the top front. “It’s that one,” he said, his voice slurring.
Will smiled at Meg, then down at Jake. “I should love to wiggle it.” He reached out, grasped the tooth between two fingers, and moved it back and forth. “It
is quite loose. I daresay in a week or two, you’ll have an enormous hole just there.”
Jake smiled, pleased, and Meg took Will’s arm. But as they turned to leave the room, Serena murmured something. Meg turned back to her. “What was that?”
Serena’s cheeks instantly turned a shade of deep pink. “Before you go, there’s something I’d like to tell you. All of you,” she added, glancing back toward the window, where Jessica stood with Olivia and Phoebe.
She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “I’m with child,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Oh, Serena!” Jessica exclaimed, slapping her hands to her chest.
Will released Meg, and he went to Serena. He took both her hands in his own and helped her to stand before he gathered her into his arms, then pulled away and kissed her on the cheek. “Congratulations,” he murmured. “Does Stratford know?”
She nodded up at him, beaming. “He does. This time, he was the first person I told.”
Olivia, Phoebe, Jessica, and Lady Fenwicke all hugged Serena. Meg approached them but hung behind Will, feeling unaccountably shy. She knew Serena had suffered a dangerous miscarriage last autumn, and she’d been wanting to have a child badly.
Jessica clapped her hands. “When will the baby be born?”
“Sometime in October.”
“Babies cry all the time,” Jake announced from beside her, as if he were an expert.
“Not always,” Meg said, smiling down at him. “You, for example, were the sweetest, quietest baby ever.” She turned back to her sister. Not knowing what, exactly, to do with her hands, she clasped them in front of her. “Congratulations, Serena. I’m so happy for you.” And she was. If the babe was due in October, that meant she was already a few months along, and the most dangerous part of the pregnancy, as far as miscarriages were concerned, had already passed.
“Thank you.” Serena dropped Will’s hands and hugged Meg. Meg wrapped her arms around her twin, glad she’d taken the awkwardness away. After congratulating her again, Will, Meg, and Jake finally left the drawing room.
They went down the corridor and exited through the kitchen from the back door, where the carriage had come up into the mews and there was less of a chance of anyone seeing her and Jake.
Will lifted Jake into the carriage, then he handed her up, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him before taking the backward-facing seat across from her and Jake.
Will rapped the ceiling and the carriage started with a jolt. Heavy curtains covered the windows, only allowing in a scant amount of dim light. As Will settled across from them, Meg wondered about the tightness in his expression and the stern press of his lips.
She slid her hand over Jake’s and squeezed. Jake squeezed back and turned to peek out the curtains.
She tensed, then relaxed. Surely it was safe enough for him to look outside. No one would recognize him driving by. Truly, there were only a few people in the world that would recognize Jake, and according to Will, those people were still far away, in Ireland.
Still, she watched Jake for a long moment, chewing her lip.
Will raised a brow at her, but she shook her head. “He’s all right.”
Will nodded but didn’t say anything. They sat in silence for long moments, Meg fighting not to fidget.
“What’s wrong?” she finally asked Will.
In the dim light, she could see his dark brows snap together. “Nothing.”
“You seem very… on edge,” she said.
His lips twisted into a smile that didn’t seem quite genuine. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.”
She didn’t believe him for a second.
It wasn’t long before they arrived at Will’s house in Cavendish Square, but to Meg, sitting in a dark carriage with a very somber Will in front of her, the ride had seemed interminable.
Will gave them another of those false, twisted smiles. “We’re here.”
His voice sounded odd, too.
They’d arrived at the back of the house, and there wasn’t much to see except the white-painted back walls, a pair of tall, narrow windows, and a wide brick chimney. Will helped them out, and keeping Meg’s hand in his own, he opened the back door of the house and entered, Jake following close behind him.
The kitchen was small, but two women were working. One was kneading dough and another stirring a savory smelling mixture on the stove. They both stopped and bobbed curtsies at Will and Meg, with mumbled, “Good afternoon, sir, ma’am,” before returning to their work.
“They’re preparing a luncheon for us,” Will murmured. “It should be ready shortly.”
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Meg said politely.
They left the kitchen, and Will led them through the simple but elegant entry hall, where they deposited their coats, hats, and gloves, and down a short corridor that ended at three closed doors. Will opened the first one.
“This is my office and library.”
It was a compact space, reminding Meg of Will’s quarters on the Freedom. A large mahogany desk occupied the center of the room, with two narrow, high windows behind it—the ones she’d seen from outside, Meg realized. To the right of the desk, a large bookshelf teemed with books. There were relics of life at sea everywhere: compasses, clocks, thermometers, and even a sextant sat on one of the shelves. Paintings of ships lined the walls—Will’s ships, Meg realized. The room smelled of a not unpleasant combination of old leather, musty books, and salt. Holding on firmly to Jake’s hand, she smiled at him. “It’s lovely.”
“Thank you.” Will hesitated. “I spend quite a lot of time in here.”
“I can imagine,” she murmured. He’d always been a hard worker. Ultimately, she wasn’t at all surprised he’d made a name for himself in the London shipping industry.
They moved on to the next room—a dining room brightly lit by the late-morning sunlight streaming through the bow window that faced the street. The dining room table was of the same mahogany as Will’s desk, and surrounded by six chairs, and a marble fireplace dominated one of the walls.
After they left the dining room, Will led them into the drawing room. It wasn’t as grand as her brother-in-law’s, but it was elegant and simple, in Will’s style. A large window draped with elegant blue-striped curtains dominated one wall of the room and looked over a blue silk sofa and two chairs facing the fireplace. A plastered nautical motif—shells and dolphins—had been carved in the recessed square in the ceiling.
After Will saw her and Jake seated on the sofa and went to stoke the fire—something Lord Stratford always relied on servants for, she’d noticed during the past few weeks—she said, “Everything in this house reinforces your independence and your love of the sea.”
He turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Does that bother you?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.” She hesitated. “I was always ambivalent about the sea. I was surrounded by it for most of my childhood in Antigua, but then it took me from my family. During the years on Caversham’s ships, it was my prison, but it was also very much a solace.”
Indeed, even sitting here now, within the blues and whites of this room, and inhaling the faint salty smell of the ocean, she felt comforted.
“I understand.” Brushing his hands, Will rose to his feet just as someone knocked at the door. “Come in.”
It was a maid. She bobbed a curtsy and then asked, “Are you ready, sir?”
Will hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. Bring him in.”
Meg glanced inquisitively at Will, who kept his focus on the maid until she closed the door behind her. Then, slowly, he turned to her, his face suddenly awash with anguish.
He glanced at Jake, who was fidgeting beside Meg on the sofa, and then looked at Meg. “I fear I’ve done this all wrong,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I should have told you… warned you. Prepared you… I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Jake scurried off the sofa and walked to Will, his hand in his mouth. “It’s looser now, sir.”
Will blew out a breath and looked down at Jake. “Is it?”
“Will you pull it out for me?”
Will’s eyes widened. “I don’t think it’s quite ready for that.”
“Meg said when it’s very, very loose, we can pull it. It’s verrrrry loose.”
Will wiggled Jake’s tooth. “Well, I’m not certain, lad. I think it’ll be a few days yet before it’s ready to go.”
“I want it out. Now.”
Meg stood, mild alarm growing within her. Jake was prone to tantrums, though he’d learned it was no use to have them among people like his father and his men. But he’d been obsessed with losing his tooth for a few days now, and he was growing impatient.
“How about this?” Will said. “When we arrive in Lancashire, at Mr. Harper’s house, we’ll pull it then. It can be our celebration of our arrival.”
Jake’s blue eyes widened. “You’re going with us to Lancashire?”
Will smiled. “I am.” He glanced at Meg, his brows raised as challenging her to deny it.
She wouldn’t deny it, though. She’d already grown to like the idea of him being with them in Lancashire. She had to admit it was mostly for selfish reasons—the truth of it was, she wanted him close.
Maybe, just maybe, she could let go of her distrust and fear, and believe that Will did want to marry her—not the memory of her, but her. Perhaps she didn’t need to be so afraid of Will taking over that place in her heart that Jake possessed. Perhaps they could both reside there; they could both be safe and happy there.
In the past few hours, the seeds of hope had begun to sprout within her.
The door opened, and the maid stood there with a boy—a year or two older than Jake and several inches taller.
The boy grinned. “Papa! You’re back!”
He rushed at Will and threw his arms around Will’s middle. Awkwardly, Will patted his back while he gazed at Meg, a raw sort of apology in his eyes.
Papa. She’d been a fool. Will did have a family here in London.
“Thomas,” he said in a low voice as the maid retreated, “these are my friends. Miss Donovan and Jake. Miss Donovan, Jake, this is Thomas. My son.”
Pleasures of a Tempted Lady Page 12