Deborah Hale

by The Bride Ship

  “What is to be done? If you brought the young man here hoping Lily will refuse him, I fear you will be disappointed.”

  “Why, has Miss Winslow told you she loves him?”

  Jocelyn shook her head. “Heavens no! Lily is far too reserved for that. But a woman can see the signs when another of her sex has tender feelings for a man.”

  Perhaps it was easier to recognize those signs in someone else than in one’s self? The thought staggered Jocelyn. “I was afraid Lily might have discouraged Mr. Duckworth because she could not bring herself to desert me. She is every bit as dutiful as he…which may be their undoing, poor dears.”

  “Do not fret for them,” Sir Robert reassured her. “I have told Duckworth if Miss Winslow will have him, they must make their home at Government House for as long as I am in office.”

  “And after that?”

  “When I leave, there will be an appointment or two in my power to award. I have promised Duckworth the best of them. The colony needs clever young fellows like him in positions of responsibility.”

  Lily Winslow had become especially dear to her over the past few months. The prospect of her wedding such an admirable young man overwhelmed Jocelyn with relief.

  She seized Sir Robert’s hand and raised it to her lips. “That is so good of you!”

  Clearly the man was capable of considering happiness ahead of duty. There might be hope for him yet.

  He did not appear embarrassed by her outburst. Indeed, he looked quite pleased. “Do you suppose it will be possible to include one more wedding with the others next Saturday?”

  Jocelyn fancied she could see her joyful smile reflected in Sir Robert’s eyes. “I am certain it will.”

  His fingers tightened around hers. He raised them to stroke her cheek. He looked as bewildered as she by the next words that left his lips. “What about two more?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Two more?” Jocelyn repeated the words as if they belonged to some particularly exotic foreign language. “Two more what?”

  Her question almost brought Sir Robert to his senses. He had blurted out his proposal in the heat of a moment that was rapidly going cold. But his training as a soldier would not allow him to retreat once he had committed himself, no matter how tentatively.

  “Two weddings, of course.” He mustered his arguments in good order and commenced to bombard her with them. “I know I am not the kind of man to inspire the passionate attachment you felt for your first husband, but I am not interested in sentiment. You have convinced me that the right sort of wife could be an invaluable asset to a man in my position.”

  He recalled Barnabas Power saying something to that effect when Jocelyn had first arrived in Halifax. It had taken far too long for him to see the wisdom of it.

  Jocelyn did not answer right away. She looked rather dazed by his declaration, but not repelled by it. That was all the encouragement Sir Robert needed to continue. He’d won many a battle that had gotten off to a less promising start.

  “I believe the past weeks have amply demonstrated how well we can work together. I am convinced if we join forces, we can do some good for the people of this colony, while maintaining a bond of mutual respect and congenial companionship. Can there be a better system for a successful marriage?”

  Satisfied that he had made a compelling case for himself, he fell silent to await her reply.

  But her answer was neither the acceptance he had hoped for, nor the refusal he dreaded with unexpected intensity.

  “Do I understand correctly, Sir Robert? Have you just tendered me…an offer of marriage?” Her tone made it sound the most preposterous notion in the world.

  Perhaps he had gotten off to a less favorable start than he’d reckoned. But he was in too deep to do anything but forge ahead and hope to salvage the situation.

  “I have, ma’am.” Her lack of enthusiasm made him speak with more reserve and formality than he’d intended. “And I hope you will not refuse me out of hand. You must admit, the kind of life I can offer you is nearer the one to which you were born than is your present situation.”

  She wrenched her hand from his grasp. “I abandoned the life to which I was born when I made my first marriage, sir. If I were inclined to wed again, it would not be for social advancement.”

  “Of course not! I mean…forgive me, that was not what I meant to suggest.” Confound it! He was a miserable failure at polite conversation. What had ever made him suppose he could advance an acceptable marriage proposal?

  “What did you mean, then?” Her gaze searched his. But what was she hoping to find?

  He sucked in a great draft of air and tried to express his true feelings…even though he was not certain what they might be. “Only that I am convinced you would make a fine governor’s wife. But my proposal is not motivated entirely by professional considerations. The truth is, I have enjoyed your company this summer, more than I ever thought possible. I should be very sorry to lose it.”

  Her expression softened in a most appealing way. “I have enjoyed your company, too. But surely that is not sufficient foundation upon which to base a marriage. Not even when coupled with your professional considerations.”

  “Damn it all, Jocelyn! Can you not tell I find you a very attractive woman? Ever since that morning we kissed, I have not been able to stop recalling it and wishing we could do it again…often.” Seeing her astonished look, he added, “I hope that does not offend you.”

  She dismissed his suggestion with a gurgle of merry, infectious laughter. “Some of the girls assume, because I am a widow, I must be ancient. But I am not ancient enough to be offended when an attractive gentleman confesses to finding me attractive. Or when a gentleman I have enjoyed kissing admits he enjoyed it, too. Come to think of it, a lady is probably more apt to be flattered by such declarations the older she gets.”

  Jocelyn found him attractive? She had enjoyed kissing him? These Sir Robert took as very encouraging signs indeed. Forgetting they were in clear view of both the house and the coach road, he whisked her into his arms and treated her to a kiss he hoped they would both enjoy as much as the last one they had shared.

  For an instant, he feared his memory of their previous kiss might have become exaggerated. But when he felt her lips yield beneath his once more, it was even better than he remembered. They were so warm, soft, sweet…

  And responsive. She did not accept his kiss in passive stillness but welcomed and returned it with such tender eagerness it took his breath away.

  At last his lapsed discretion caught up with him. He drew back from Jocelyn just far enough to gaze deep into her eyes. “You will have me, then?”

  “Have you?” Her lips, still dewy from his kiss, faltered when she tried to smile. “Now that sounds a very inviting prospect. But as for your offer of marriage, I fear I must decline it.”

  “Decline?” Sir Robert wondered if his ears were playing tricks on him. “How can that be?”

  Astonished by Sir Robert’s sudden proposal, Jocelyn had almost given him a different answer than the one she knew she must. Now his look of bewildered distress almost made her recant her refusal. But she could not forget the harsh lessons she’d been forced to learn in recent years.

  “It can be because it must be, Robert. When my father cut me off without a farthing for marrying against his wishes, I discovered how dependent I had been upon his approval. When Ned died and I was left with almost nothing, I realized I had been dependent on his survival and his regard for me. The life I have now may not seem like much to you, but I have gained it by my own efforts and no man’s whim can take it from me. My independence has cost me too much to give it up, even for all you offer.”

  She gave a rueful smile, hoping to coax one from him in return. “And you do have a great deal to offer a woman. I would be lying if I claimed I am not tempted. By your kiss in particular.”

  The governor scowled and stiffened to his most severe parade-ground posture. “Refuse me if you must, but I wil
l thank you not to mock me, madam.”

  “Now you are angry.” She caught his hand and gave it a beseeching squeeze. “And it will spoil everything between us until I have to leave for England.”

  The prospect of her departure provoked a hollow ache deep in her belly, which she did her best to ignore. “What happened to your resolve never to marry? You said it would not be fair to a woman.”

  “My situation has changed.” Sir Robert tried to look very solemn and remote, but Jocelyn glimpsed a plea in his eyes. “England is not at war and I am no longer on active military service.”

  She gave a slow, regretful shake of her head. “In all your years of soldiering, have you ever known peace to last for long?”

  He opened his mouth to reply, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. Jocelyn could almost hear the litany of recent conflicts marching through his thoughts. The American Revolution, the French Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars and the recent hostilities between England and America. Sir Robert closed his mouth again.

  Jocelyn needed no more answer than that. “You are still a young man. What if war should break out again and you should be called to active service? Would the fact that you had a wife prevent you from answering that call?”

  His brow bunched. “Are you saying you refuse to marry me unless I am willing to put your happiness ahead of my duty?”

  It sounded so selfish when he put it like that. “I am saying I cannot place your duty ahead of my happiness. I wish with all my heart I could oblige you, but I cannot.”

  Robert stared past her, out toward the placid waters of the Bedford Basin. “It seems we are at an impasse, then. So what is to be done? Do we ignore the attraction we have both freely admitted then bid one another a cool farewell when you return to England for the winter?”

  His question sparked a scandalous notion in Jocelyn’s mind. Only scandalous if they were indiscreet, she reminded herself. And Sir Robert Kerr was the very soul of discretion.

  Though he refused to meet her gaze, he had not detached his hand from her grasp. She ran the pad of her thumb over his palm in a suggestive caress. “We could do that, I suppose. Or we could…indulge our mutual attraction for the time we have left. If we both find the arrangement congenial, perhaps we could take it up again next spring when I return.”

  That made him look at her again. “What on earth are you proposing?”

  Jocelyn ran the tip of her tongue around her lips to moisten them while casting him a tantalizing glance through her lashes. “I am saying that I cannot be your wife…but I should enjoy being your mistress. I believe I could make you enjoy it, too.”

  His features remained impassive, but she sensed passion and propriety waging a fierce battle within him. Though strong and hot, passion was new and rather foreign to his nature. Propriety had ruled him for many years. It held the high ground and had plenty of allies—duty, prudence, restraint—with which to flank and rout the vigorous assault of his up-start desire. Thwarted, passion seized its only available outlet in the vigor of his refusal.

  “Impossible!” He wrested his hand from hers with violent force and backed several steps away as if he feared his resolve might not hold. “Do you understand what you are suggesting?”

  “Better than you do, I’ll wager.” Though vexed by his resistance, she could not be truly angry, for she knew it did not signify an aversion to her. “Do not let an overabundance of sense make you foolish, my dear. If we both agree to a brief liaison without coercion or expectations on either side, where is the harm?”

  “No.” He turned and strode away from her. “I refuse to consider it.” Then, in a tone sharp with desperation, he added, “Do not tempt me!”

  Jocelyn hiked up her skirts and darted after him.

  “Very well,” she gasped. “I promise I will not raise the matter again, except to say this—if you should have a change of heart at any time between now and the day I return to England, you have only to say the word and I shall be willing.”

  He did not reply, but a slight hitch in his stride assured Jocelyn he had heard her.

  “Now slow down and take that scowl off your face,” she ordered him. “Otherwise people will wonder what is the matter. Then there could be all sorts of scandalous speculation even if we behave with perfect propriety.”

  To her surprise, the governor came to an abrupt halt. “You are right, of course. But imagine the gossip if we were caught in a compromising situation.”

  “If we were caught…” Jocelyn flashed him a sly smile. “I reckon we are clever enough to avoid that, don’t you?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What happened to your promise not to tempt me?”

  “I said I would not raise the matter and I have kept my word. It is not fair to expect me to withhold comment when you bring up the subject. If it takes so little to tempt you, perhaps you want to accept my offer more than you are prepared to admit.”

  “I never denied wanting you!” Raw hunger for her blazed in his eyes and fairly crackled in the air around him.

  If only she could persuade him to sate it on a banquet of forbidden delicacies!

  A burst of high-pitched giggles drifted down from the upper balcony of the lodge. The sound acted on Jocelyn and Sir Robert like a bucket of cold water dumped over their heads. They started and hastily backed away from each other.

  Jocelyn looked up to find the last several unwed girls from the bride ship peeking at them over the balusters.

  “Were you looking for me?” she snapped. “Or were you eavesdropping for amusement?”

  “We didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Mrs. Finch.” Louisa switched from giggles to near tears in the bat of an eye.

  “And we didn’t hear anything,” vowed Sophia. “We were looking for you, ma’am. Mr. Duckworth said you wanted to speak to us about wedding plans.”

  “I wanted you to give Lily and Mr. Duckworth a little privacy.” Jocelyn hoped Sophia was telling the truth about not overhearing her conversation with the governor.

  Even if she were, this embarrassing intrusion cast doubt on Jocelyn’s claim that she and Sir Robert were clever enough to avoid being compromised. Clearly when passions were engaged between them, cleverness could not be relied upon.

  “Mr. Duckworth?” Louisa brightened up again as quickly as she had been cast down. Jocelyn did not envy her future husband.

  “And Lily?” said Sophia. “You mean—?”

  “I meant no more than what I said.” Jocelyn treated the girls to her sternest look, though she feared its effect was likely diminished by distance. “And I will not permit any speculative comments when they return. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Finch.” The girls retired from the balcony, whispering to one another.

  Jocelyn turned to resume her conversation with Sir Robert only to find he had slipped away. She muttered a curse under her breath. More than ever she longed for just one night with him. It might be the remedy she needed to purge her troublesome feelings for him.

  But it did not look as though she would get the opportunity to find out.

  If you should have a change of heart at any time between now and the day I return to England, you have only to say the word and I shall be willing.

  Jocelyn’s tantalizing offer haunted the governor for the next few days as preparations went ahead for the last bride-ship weddings, including that of George Duckworth to Miss Lily Winslow. Sir Robert was delighted for the young couple—when he was not consumed with envy of their happiness.

  Over and over, he told himself it was foolish to regret Mrs. Finch’s refusal of his marriage proposal. After all, he had not even meant to ask her. He’d simply been swept up in a romantic moment. What if she’d accepted him? That would have been a far greater problem, surely.

  While her social and organizational skills might have been considerable assets for a governor’s lady, her sense of decorum left much to be desired. She’d begun their acquaintance by challenging him to a duel in front of half the town. And lately she had of
fered herself as his mistress out on the lawn of Prince’s Lodge, where any number of people might have overheard.

  If she had agreed to marry him, her subsequent behavior would have reflected upon his reputation. How could he have trusted her not to disgrace him when she neither understood nor cared for the notion of duty? Clearly he was far better off without her.

  But no amount of rational argument eased the sting of disappointment in his heart. Nor could it keep him from imagining the result if he accepted her scandalous proposition.

  He tried to stay busy, forcing himself to concentrate on his work, but it was a constant struggle. Nights were the worst. The very act of undressing made him picture Jocelyn nestled in his bed, one perfect, bare breast peeping out from under the coverlet. In his fancy, her eyes held the shameless sparkle with which she’d challenged him. You have only to say the word and I shall be willing. The memory of it never failed to make his throat tighten and his loins ache.

  He tried to delay retiring for the night until he could scarcely keep his eyes open. He tried imbibing a quantity of brandy before bedtime. Neither banished his beguiling visions. The brandy only weakened his will to resist them. On the eve of the weddings he found himself riding toward Prince’s Lodge at an unholy hour, with decidedly unholy intentions. What folly might he have committed if the driving rain had not sobered him up in time?

  Damn the rain! That was the trouble with Nova Scotia—the whole wretched colony was too bloody wet!

  Fortunately, a brisk wind blew the rain clouds out to sea before morning. The day of the weddings dawned sunny and warm, in direct contrast to Sir Robert’s temper. Dragging himself out of bed, he ordered a pot of strong coffee, which he drank while being groomed and dressed for the first marriage ceremony of the day.