Someone to Cherish

by Cheryl Holt

  Apparently, she was as thrilled by their proximity as he was. Their nearness generated such extreme sensations. Why ignore them?

  “Your cousins, Janet and Gregory, shared the most shocking information about you, and I’m bowled over by it.”

  “There is not a single piece of my personal history that I would describe as shocking, so I can’t imagine to what you refer.”

  “You can’t? Really?”

  “Yes, really, and you’re being obnoxious. I wish you’d sneak out before you get me in trouble.”

  “I can’t leave yet. For you see, Miss Grey, I have discovered that you are a dreadful liar, and I must be apprised as to why you’ve kept this pesky secret from me.”

  “I have no secrets, sir. What could I possibly have kept from you?”

  “I have it on credible authority that you are one of the Mystery Girls of the Caribbean.”

  She stared at him forever as she picked what her reply should be. She settled on, “I’m not supposed to talk about it, so I probably shouldn’t.”

  He frowned. “Meaning what?”

  “My uncle and Gregory don’t like me to remind people of what transpired. They insist it’s left me too peculiar, and they act as if the whole thing was my fault somehow.”

  “You were four!”

  “I know. Their attitude has always been very unfair, but I’ve accepted their position, and it happened twenty years ago. It’s ancient history, and I fail to comprehend why it would be of any interest to you at all.”

  She pushed away from him and went to huddle by the bed. She was struggling to project an air of nonchalance, as if the incident had been of no consequence, but he was so attuned to her that he could practically feel her pulse pounding through her veins. She was trembling slightly and very anxious, but why would she be anxious?

  Janet had explained how it had been a traumatic experience for her, so it was difficult to discuss. He completely concurred. He didn’t like to discuss his father either, but the man’s rescue of the Lost Girls was his most notorious feat.

  “Caro,” he said, “could we please review my surname?”

  “It’s Ralston. So?” She paused, then blanched. “Ralston? By any chance, are you related to Captain Miles Ralston?”

  “He was my father.”

  “You are joking!”

  “No, I’m not joking.”

  “I asked if you knew him, and you claimed you didn’t! Why lie about it?”

  “It’s a long story,” he said, which was his typical response concerning his father.

  “When I first heard you were coming, I wondered if you might be kin to him. I’ve met a few Ralstons in my life, and I’ve always been curious if there was a connection, but as I mentioned, my own relatives don’t like me to announce my link to the tragedy, and I learned the hard way that it was best to remain silent.”

  The remark sounded ominous, and he speculated over what she’d learned from the men in her family. Rumor had it that her grandfather had been a monster. It couldn’t have been easy for her to have been thrust into his home. After what she’d suffered in the Caribbean, she’d likely needed some love and care, but old Walter Grey wouldn’t have provided it.

  “Do you remember my father?” he asked.

  “Oh, absolutely! When he marched onto our island, we’d been stranded for ages. He’d seemed big and important and scary, and he was so. . . so. . . official, I guess. He was all decked out in his uniform with his medals glowing in the sun. We’d been living like abandoned wolf pups, and it was such a relief to have him in charge.” She smiled and sighed. “I have such fond memories of him.”

  “I’m so glad. I was afraid you might not recollect.”

  “I recollect every tiny detail.” Her smile slipped, and she scowled. “You said that he was your father. Has he passed on?”

  “Yes, when I was ten. It was shortly after he stumbled on you girls.”

  “I’m so sorry that I won’t be able to thank him.”

  “For what?”

  “For being kind to me when I desperately needed him to be. I’ve dreamed about him so often. I hope you won’t deem me to be terribly silly, but I was so bewildered when I arrived back in England. I’d never previously met my grandfather, and to describe him as awful and frightening would be an understatement.”

  “There has been gossip about him to that effect.”

  “I was confused and unhappy, and I used to fantasize that Captain Ralston was my father. I’d pretend he was searching for me, and he’d find me and whisk me away. I’d pray at night that he and I would return to our pretty island and that we would reside there with Libby and Joanna.”

  “Joanna was the third girl?”

  “Yes. Joanna and Libby. Once we were in London and family members showed up to take us home, we were yanked apart without our being allowed to say goodbye to each other. After what we’d suffered, it was an incredibly traumatic conclusion.” She started to shake. “I’m still haunted by that separation.”

  “Of course you are,” he murmured in response. “You were just little children.”

  “And the authorities here in England were so mean and abrupt. They wouldn’t tell us what was occurring or what they were arranging. It’s impossible to explain what we went through. Your father made us feel safe. It’s what I liked best about him, but we were only with him a few days. We sailed to Jamaica, and he handed us over to the navy. After we left his ship, we never felt safe again.” She gazed down at the floor, her shaking more pronounced. “I believe that just might be the most words I’ve ever spoken about any of it.”

  “I’m delighted you shared them with me. I’ve been eager to talk to one of you Lost Girls, but when you asked me about him, I couldn’t bear to admit I was his son. If you’d told me you didn’t remember him, I’d have been too disappointed.”

  “Not remember him! Are you mad? I haven’t forgotten a single aspect about that period. Occasionally, it seems as if it just happened yesterday.”

  He hated to witness her trembling, to realize how distraught she’d grown. He stepped over and drew her into his arms. She didn’t scold him or scoot away. She snuggled herself to his chest, and it was a good sign of things to come.

  She was wearing just her robe and nightgown, no corset or petticoats to furnish a barrier, so every delicious inch of her torso was pressed to his. Though she was very slender, she was curved in the appropriate spots.

  “Don’t fret about the past,” he said. “As you mentioned, it happened such a long time ago. Don’t let it vex you.”

  “I’m not fretting. I’m ecstatic! I’ve finally discussed it with someone who didn’t shout and order me to be silent. I never saw Libby or Joanna again, and I’ve been anxious to hunt for them, but I couldn’t imagine how. Even if I’d succeeded in locating them, I wouldn’t have been permitted to contact them, and now, I discover Libby is performing on the stage in London. The first minute I have the chance, I’m going to town to visit her.”

  “When you inquired about her, you truly had no idea how famous she’s become?”

  “No. I was floored by the news.”

  “I think it would be terrific—maybe even cathartic—for you to visit her.”

  “I have to find out if she’s ever heard from Joanna. I viewed them as my sisters, and Joanna was younger than we were—and very traumatized. I’ve been tormented to not know her fate.”

  “I’ll help you with your search,” he said, wondering if he was serious.

  As far as he was aware, she was engaged to her cousin, and there had been no whispers about the wedding being called off. He had no right to be in her bedchamber, no right to assist her in resolving a personal situation.

  Still though, it felt fitting to extend the offer. It generated a perception that their relationship was headed in a positive direction, that they wouldn’t
part forever once he fled Grey’s Corner.

  Did he want that? Did he want to continue on with her? If urged to voice an opinion, he’d have said no, he didn’t want a relationship with her—or any woman—but he was being pelted by the overwhelming sensation that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  She peered up at him and asked, “Was your father a good father? I don’t remember my own, so I used yours as a substitute. I pictured him as being perfect. Was he? If he wasn’t, please lie to me, so you don’t spoil my fantasy.”

  Her expression was so sincere that he wouldn’t have dared burst any of her bubbles.

  His father—the exalted Captain Miles Ralston—had been a complicated fellow whom Caleb loved and loathed in equal measure. The man had been a decorated navy sailor, renowned for his bravery and wild exploits, the most notorious one being his stumbling on the Lost Girls.

  But he’d also had two wives and two families, which had come as quite a surprise to Caleb and Blake when they’d learned about it as orphaned boys. They’d assumed they were his only sons, but they hadn’t been.

  Over the years, they’d debated endlessly as to whether their mother had been apprised of Miles’s bigamy. Caleb and Blake certainly hadn’t been.

  They’d been five and ten when they’d been confronted by the humiliating quagmire, and by then, their parents had been deceased. A vicar had sent them to their English kin, and their mother’s maid, Sybil Jones, had traveled with them to get them settled.

  Once they’d arrived, they’d been greeted by Miles’s stunned other family. It had included the woman, Esther Ralston, he’d married before their own mother—as well as several of his children. The oldest, their half-brother, Jacob, had recently been trying to become friendly with Caleb. Caleb kept putting him off, not able to decide how he felt about Jacob’s overtures.

  Sybil had intervened with Esther, had taken charge of the situation and fought on their behalf. She’d shamed Esther into providing assistance—by pestering the navy. She’d threatened to publicly disseminate the lurid story unless Caleb and Blake were supported as was commensurate with their position as Miles’s sons. Naval authorities had prevailed on Esther, the first and real Mrs. Ralston, to help them.

  They’d been enrolled in boarding school, then they’d had commissions purchased for them after they’d finished their educations. But it hadn’t been easy, and it definitely hadn’t been any fun. If Sybil hadn’t acted as their champion, he couldn’t guess what would have occurred.

  They’d likely have starved on the streets of London.

  As with Caro never talking about her ordeal, he and Blake never talked about theirs. Part of the agreement the navy had brokered with Esther Ralston was that Blake and Caleb would never mention their father or his secret, scandalous life.

  They hadn’t, and they didn’t. Who would reveal such a hideous parentage?

  He wouldn’t confess any of it to Caro either. She appeared to idolize Miles, and Caleb couldn’t bear to tarnish the halo she’d placed on Miles’s head.

  “Will it hurt you if I confide that I hardly knew my father?” he asked.

  “Why didn’t you know him?”

  “Well, he was in the navy, so he was never home.”

  “When he was there, was it grand? Were you happy and contented? Did he adore your mother? Did he dote on you and your brother?”

  “Yes, he adored my mother, but I wouldn’t claim he doted on Blake and me. He was a gruff sailor, so he wasn’t exactly warm and cuddly.”

  “He must have raised you to be manly men. Is that why you and your brother are so dashing?”

  He grinned. “I’m dashing? Really?”

  “I’ll only admit it in this room. I won’t stroke your vanity outside it. Now then, would you go? You had an imperative need to speak with me immediately, but you can’t dawdle.”

  She tried to wiggle away, but he wasn’t about to let her. Her bed was a few feet away, and without giving her a hint as to his intentions, he lifted her and tossed her onto the mattress. She was light as a feather, so it was simple to manhandle her. Before she could escape, he followed her down and stretched out atop her.

  They were touching from chin to toes, and his entire body rejoiced, but she yanked him to his senses swiftly enough.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, looking startled and aghast.

  “I’m thinking I’d like to kiss you again, and I’m not about to do it standing up.”

  “I have been much too polite with you, and you have to leave. At once! If you don’t, I’ll scream. I mean it. I will!”

  “You will not scream. People might come running. Imagine the trouble you’d be in.”

  She frowned ferociously. “I might scream.”

  He wasn’t about to argue the point, not when he finally had them both where they were destined to be. He dipped down and kissed her, as he’d been dying to do since he’d kissed her previously.

  For some reason, he couldn’t stay away from her. He wanted to spend every minute in her charming company. He wanted to do things to her he didn’t dare do. He wanted her to give him things she should never relinquish.

  It was insane, but he was attracted beyond any rational level. Where would it lead? Where would it end?

  Nowhere good, he was sure of that.

  She struggled not to join in, but it wasn’t possible to ignore the fire that ignited between them. She was very moralistic though, and she was betrothed. He hadn’t heard that she’d cried off, so she’d be fretting over their behavior.

  Yet it didn’t feel as if she belonged to Gregory anymore. By any standard he could identify, she seemed to belong to him.

  How had that happened? He had no idea.

  Quite quickly, she abandoned her restraint, and she participated in a gleeful way that rattled him. They kept on until he caught himself loosening the belt on her robe. He was an inch away from removing clothing, from taking steps he shouldn’t take.

  Gradually, he slowed, then drew away. He smiled at her, and though it was very strange, his heart was aching, as if it didn’t fit under his ribs just right. He was awash with the oddest feelings of poignant affection. The most frightening words had surged to the tip of his tongue.

  He yearned to have her by his side forever. He yearned to make promises and commitments he would be foolish to extend—because he wouldn’t be serious about any of them.

  She was smiling too, but she looked exasperated, as if she couldn’t figure out how she’d come to be lying beneath him on her bed.

  “We have to stop doing this, Caleb.”

  He smirked. “You called me Caleb.”

  “I’m still engaged to Gregory.”

  “I intended to ask you about that. You can’t proceed with him.”

  “I haven’t had two seconds to speak with Uncle Samson, so nothing’s occurred to change my situation.”

  “You and I are so attuned. It’s proof that you’re in no position to marry him.”

  “I understand that now, and you’re putting me in such a horrendous predicament.”

  “How?”

  “You know how. Don’t pretend.”

  He did know. He constantly showed up where he shouldn’t be, then pushed her into conduct she shouldn’t attempt. He wasn’t sorry though, and he didn’t suppose he’d desist.

  “I’ve been dithering over how to approach my uncle,” she said.

  “Would you like me to talk to him for you? I could explain how reckless Gregory is in town.”

  “It’s a sweet offer, but I don’t need your help. I can handle it on my own.”

  He didn’t believe that was true at all. She’d regularly been coerced by her male relatives. They wouldn’t heed her. Her uncle would probably laugh, and Caleb couldn’t envision how Gregory might respond.

  There had never been rumors about him be
ing violent, but he was very proud. If she backed out, would he lash out at her? And how might he lash out? Was it any of Caleb’s business?

  Her current problems were caused in part by the fact that Caleb let Gregory wager at his gambling club. Caleb had butted his nose into her dilemma, had encouraged her to run from her marriage. If she suffered difficulties later on, had he any duty toward her?

  At the moment, he couldn’t answer that question. He would have to watch and ponder, would have to see how events unfolded.

  “Will you leave now?” she said. “Please?”

  “I guess I should.”

  “And for pity’s sake, be more furtive when you tiptoe away. I’ve sinned and disgraced myself with you, and I—”

  He laid a finger on her lips. “Everything about our being together seems exactly right.”

  “Since I am betrothed, and you are not, you’re not the person to give me advice on the morality of my behavior.”

  “You’re likely correct, but I’ll give you some anyway: Don’t you dare feel bad or guilty. I certainly don’t.”

  “Of course you don’t. You have naught to lose by trifling with me. I, on the other hand, have a whole life and family to squander.”

  “We’ll chat in the morning. We’ll devise a viable path for you.”

  “What path? You can’t fix this—unless you’re prepared to wed me yourself. Is that it, you bachelor, you? Are you about to propose and save me from Gregory?”

  She’d uttered her comment in a teasing way, but it had the oddest effect. For a brief instant, they froze, and the notion of his marrying her brought such a giddy swell of elation that he was practically dizzy with excitement.

  He nearly blurted out, Yes, yes! Marry me instead of Gregory!

  But that was a bizarre idea. Had she bewitched him?

  He shook his head, chasing away the deranged thought, then he scoffed with amusement. “No, I’m not about to propose. I hardly know you.”

  “And I hardly know you, so what is our plan?”

  “We’ll figure it out.”