* * * * *
“We’ll be arriving in just a few days,” Peter said to Kyrah the following morning as they took their usual stroll. She hadn’t wanted to leave the security of her cabin, but he’d insisted. And now she was glad for the fresh air.
“How long have we been at sea?” she asked.
“Nearly six weeks,” he said. “We’ve made good time.”
Kyrah was glad to know so that she could estimate the expected arrival of the baby.
“There is something we should perhaps discuss,” Peter said with caution.
“What?” Kyrah asked blandly.
“I’m not certain you realize how difficult it will be when we arrive, for a girl of your . . . inexperience. This is a harsh new world we’re going to.”
“What are you getting at?” she asked, not liking the way he’d pegged her own fears so accurately.
“I’m concerned for you, my dear,” he said kindly. “You are free, but I wonder what kind of trouble your freedom might get you into.”
“Are you trying to tell me something, Peter?” She had a feeling he was trying to say something she didn’t want to hear.
He took a deep breath and looked down almost nervously, but Kyrah sensed something slightly phony about it. Or perhaps he was simply nervous. “I would like you to marry me,” he said quickly.
Kyrah couldn’t believe it. She was caught so off-guard that all she could do was turn and walk away.
“Wait,” he said, taking hold of her arm. “You’ve got to think practically, my dear,” he said. “A lone woman in a new country. What will you do?”
“I’ll manage,” she stated without looking at him.
“With what? You have no money. And worse, you have no idea what kind of lowlife you’ll be coming up against.”
“Perhaps I do,” she said, looking directly at him.
“Kyrah,” his tone was scolding, “if it’s Ritcherd Buchanan that keeps you from consenting, you’d better think again.”
“Why?” she asked, feeling her heart race at the mere mention of his name.
“Can’t you see that you’re better off without him? He’s as pompous and arrogant as his mother.”
“That’s not true,” she insisted.
“I think you’ve seen it all from a very distorted perspective,” he said. “And I hate to be the one to set you straight. I don’t want to see you hurting, but you’ve got to face the truth.”
“Ritcherd loves me.”
Peter laughed as if her statement was terribly amusing. “I’m certain he’s told you that many times,” he said, “but did he also tell you the real reason he was going to marry you?”
Kyrah waited, silently daring him to discredit Ritcherd. “I know for a fact,” he began, “that he told his mother he would marry you just to prove his point.”
Kyrah turned away quickly, convincing herself it wasn’t true. “You can hide from it if you want, but one day you’ll realize it’s the truth. You know how bitter he is against Jeanette. He’d do anything just to spite her, and there was nothing that got to her more than his attention to you. He could have had any woman in the county, and you know that as well as I do. Face the facts, Kyrah. However painful, you’ve got to know. He was using you to prove his point. I don’t doubt that he would have married you, but I wonder how loyal he might have remained. I also doubt he’d go to the trouble of trying to find you, considering the circumstances. There were many young ladies in Cornwall that would be much more suitable to his lifestyle.”
“It’s all a lie,” Kyrah said, her back still turned. “I’ve known Ritcherd for years. I know he loves me.”
“How long have you been around him since your station in life was so dramatically lowered?"
“We know whose fault that was,” she spat.
“Now don’t go blaming me for your problems, Kyrah. Like it or not, one day you’re going to have to accept that your father put your security on the table in a card game. And when he lost that, he took the cowardly way out and left you to fend for yourself. And now you’re avoiding the truth about Ritcherd because you don’t want to face it. You and I are alike, Kyrah. You don’t belong in their aristocratic world. You belong with me. We come from the same background. I’ve known it ever since I first saw you. Admittedly, I’m not very good at expressing such things, and I know I was difficult at times . . . but I’m sorry about that. I wish we could just start over and . . .” His nervousness increased and she turned to look at him, amazed at the apparent sincerity in his eyes. “I know your feelings for Ritcherd are really none of my business, but . . . what I’m trying to say is . . .” He paused a long moment and added, “I love you, Kyrah.”
Kyrah was so stunned she couldn’t even speak. Could he possibly be genuine? Whether or not he was, it didn’t change where she stood. “I don’t love you,” she said flatly.
He didn’t appear too distressed or surprised. “Love can grow with time,” he said. “But whether you ever love me or not, I know one thing for certain. One day you will realize that what I say is true, and you will want to be my wife. I’ll be patient. We’ll see what being alone in a port town will do to your pride.”
Peter left Kyrah standing on the deck, feeling lost and alone—and afraid. However much she didn’t want to admit it, she feared Peter might be right. She felt certain enough that Ritcherd loved her. But the rest was true. She didn’t belong in his world. She was only a servant girl. And being pregnant and unmarried didn’t help her situation any. She wondered how many servants had been taken advantage of by aristocratic men, then left to bear their illegitimate children on the premise of good intentions. She rubbed the chill from her arms as she recalled Peter once saying: He’ll use you and leave you to suffer in the end. She tried to tell herself that Ritcherd’s love would be there for her when all was said and done, but her present situation made it difficult to feel confident in that respect.
Trying to weigh her feelings on the same scale as the facts, Kyrah’s confusion only deepened. But one thing was certain: if Ritcherd didn’t find her soon, she would be forced to make some very difficult decisions.
She finally convinced herself that she could do nothing more than take one day at a time and do the best she could—keeping the child’s well-being foremost in importance. Forcing all else to the back of her mind, she began watching for the colonies to come into view.
The Captain of Her Heart Page 30