by Robyn Carr
“Aye, my love, you are your own. But I will not cease until you promise to share your life with me.”
“Then you will exhaust yourself, my lord, and become too tired to seek your next fortune.”
She turned and walked hastily toward the house, her shoes clicking on the veranda as she crossed to the door. Just inside, she paused to look at her reddened palm and a slow smile crossed her lips. Without further pause she climbed the stairs.
Preston stood just outside the study, from which poured smoke and loud male voices. The next to enter was Geoffrey, his pace somewhat less hurried than Alicia’s had been. Preston gave a nod and took a drink from the glass he held.
“Do you have another one of those?” Geoffrey asked.
“Aye, but you’d better take it in your room.” Geoffrey’s perplexed look caused Preston to laugh softly. “Your cheek, my lord, bears the mark of my sister’s hand.”
Geoffrey smiled in embarrassment. “If there is as much passion in her yielding, it will have been worth it.”
EIGHTEEN
Geoffrey returned to the garden with his drink. He touched the cheek that Alicia had slapped, but it did not pain him now. And he recounted her words, their argument, giving more credit to what Alicia was made of than he had before.
He knew much of her history— enough at least to draw some conclusions. She had been owned all her life; indentured to this family or that, though there were no papers of sale or indenture. She had to earn her meals in some way or another, whether working in a tavern or playing the part of Lady Seavers. Here had come the first opportunity in her life to be a member of her natural family, and owe only love in return for being fed.
Perhaps she had earned the right to fight him. He had, after all, been one of the many to use her to his own ends. And he had reinforced her fear to trust, with his love words and passion in the night and detachment in the morning light. He had taught her how to mistrust him.
He roamed the grounds of the manor in the darkness of night, musing over a bush, leaning against a tree. The brandy had warmed his heart and cooled his head, and now he held an empty glass. The house was darkened and quiet when he considered it time for him to be asleep. He climbed the stairs to his own room and paused briefly before Alicia’s door.
And then he was looking down at her with a light feeling in his chest. Her hair was spread on her pillow, her dark, sooty lashes resting peacefully on her cheek. He had been robbed of the right to look at her loveliness: first by his own stupidity and later because her family protected her from him, not knowing they protected her from her own husband.
He could not resist the urge to reach out and touch the silken skin, and he gently brushed her cheek with his finger. Ah, you are everything I dreamed a woman could be, my Alicia, he thought passionately. Beauty, wit, charm, and devotion. And how you fight! Such pride and fire! And when that stands beside a man, it makes success and good fortune. Only a fool would cast it aside and not appreciate its worth.
You think I’ve come for another handsome dowry, my love, but you are wrong. I’ve come to claim you and to keep you safe. I will build you a mansion and slipper your feet in silver. And for that I will work—harder than you’ve ever seen a man work. I will not need food when you satisfy the hunger that’s grown in me with your lips. And I will not need wine, for just to look at you makes me grow dizzy with desire. Alicia, how can you deny that I love you…
As his mind rambled over his words of devotion, she sighed softly and turned, throwing her covers partially off. He smiled to himself as he thought how angry she would be to know that in her sleep she exposed herself to his view, the thin material of her nightdress covering her body inadequately. He imagined her beauty ever increasing as she grew with child.
He reached down gently to cover her and quietly stole out of her room. Sleep is impossible, he thought, when all I have dreamt of for months is to hold her close, feel her resting safely beside me…
When the sun rose, Alicia’s eyes opened slowly. She smiled again, at the visions and dreams that had danced through her head all through the night. She sat up and stretched lazily, throwing her legs over the edge of her bed, and her eyes spotted a glass on her dressing table. She frowned as she looked at it and moved to pick it up. She wrinkled her nose at the sharp smell of Wesley’s spirits inside the glass.
She didn’t have to wonder long at how the thing came to be there; neither Preston nor her father would steal into her room while she slept.
She knew the hour to be long after the men had breakfasted and left for their duties, for the house below her was quiet and still. On her way to breakfast alone, she passed the closed study doors and she could hear Geoffrey’s voice from within.
“The letters do not convict him, but call for his return to England under guard, where he will be tried and very likely hanged. It will not fill the need for vengeance in me, but it will serve as best as can be expected at this late date.”
“And where do you go?” Preston’s voice asked.
“It would not be considered unusual to see me about the wharves, do you think? After all, my ships will put in to port whenever their repairs are complete and a crew can be found. Plague wiped out most of my crew.”
“Then you think to find him here? I can’t imagine him putting himself within a thousand miles of either of us again.”
“The last that was heard was that he booked passage out of England to the Colonies when even his brother would not support him. I intend to find him. Rodney waits near the wharves now, in watch.”
“Anything to report on my sister’s mood?” Preston asked.
Alicia crept closer, nearly pressing her ear to the door.
“You saw the mark yourself. She does not come gently to heel.”
Alicia felt her face bum with anger. To heel! How dare the blackguard!
“Did you tell her what you’ve done?”
“I told her I’ve come to make things right, but she will not hear me. She’s every right to hate me, but I can’t let this drag on too long.” He cleared his throat. “There are a dozen good reasons why we must end this trouble between us and settle ourselves to a more stable life—marriage.”
“My parents have a handsome dowry set aside for her.”
She could hear Geoffrey’s laugh from outside the door and she was enraged. She considered bursting through the study doors, but even that would not satisfy her anger. The idea of my dowry is amusing, eh, Lord Seavers? she thought. I suppose you think it is very nearly yours. Well, we shall see about that! And she fled from the hall to the dining room.
“The dowry will take care of the heavy fine I am to pay immediately,” Geoffrey said with some humor. “When I would have expected the king to have me drawn and quartered, he offered to let me buy off his anger.”
“A reasonable conclusion,” Preston said. “Especially since your death or imprisonment will not fill his purse.”
“Ah, but the truth feels good,” Geoffrey said. “All those months that I struggled with the lies wore on me. I could not even see how I loved Alicia, the pain of betrayal stung so deep.”
“I wish you had told me from the beginning.”
“Lies cause a man to lose faith in everything, my friend. It fairly gnarled up my soul. But that is past and now I’ve a criminal to catch and a woman to seduce. Wish me well.”
“Tread gently, rogue,” Preston chuckled. “She may well scar you before you are able to reach her heart.”
Rodney Prentiss leased a small and quite inadequate room in the business district near the wharves. He asked around among the sailing men to see if anyone had information regarding Culver Perry, lately known as Lord Perry in England. Nothing turned up. His description fit many: tall, blue-eyed, ruggedly handsome, and most usually dressed in finery. Aside from the clothing, he was every other man on the street: no marks, strange affectations, or mannerisms. An accent fresh from London was not noticeable here; the grand majority of settlers were from England. Rodney h
ad nothing to report when Geoffrey arrived.
“We will continue to look, ask, and make ourselves available to anyone who thinks they might have seen him.”
“And the letters?” Rodney asked.
“I’ve given them to Randolph Hussley, His Majesty’s guard, judge, and captain here. They’re in safekeeping. And they cannot be stolen from me.”
“Can they be bought?” Rodney asked.
“I think not, as the papers relate the incidents to the Tilden family. When I have the chance, I shall thank Alicia from the bottom of my heart for turning out to be a Tilden.”
Rodney laughed under his breath. “And is the lady in good keeping?”
“I am only sorry you must stay here, my good man. She’s looking good and your old eyes will feel new when you’re able to see her again.”
“Aye, and how did she receive you?”
Geoffrey immediately rubbed the cheek that had been slapped. “She will fight me every step of the way.”
Rodney’s ruddy old face broke into a bright smile. It made his heart glad to know the lass had lost none of her determination as she suffered the changes in her life. “Aye, she’ll have none of you.”
“You needn’t be so damned pleased about it. I’ll find the way to court her, mark me.”
“Aye, you’ll court. You’ll earn this one or come up empty.”
“I fail to remember what I did to you to cause this lack of sympathy you have for me. You love it best when I’m punished.”
“Never that, lad. I admit I gain a fair amount of pleasure when the lass will not give in to your every whim, but she does not punish. She only assures you of the worth of what you fight for.”
Geoffrey thought for a moment and, with a nod, conceded. Aye, she was worth all he’d been through. But he could not let her test him much further. He had made up his mind: he would let her have it her way for a while, but time was short. There was building and birthing to be done. And always the chance he would be called home to England to stand by his charges.
“Let’s get on the streets, man, and see what we can find. I can’t stay here long, I’ve got to talk to a man about a bride.”
“No need for you here, lad, if the Tilden home is where you need to be.”
“I’ll see to this first. I’d rather have something firm to tell Lord Tilden before I return. I’d like to have an idea where that bastard Perry is hiding.”
The town produced nothing. Geoffrey found it as impossible to get answers as Rodney had. By the end of the second day, Geoffrey had nearly concluded that Perry had not made it to Virginia after all, but sought some other haven. With Rodney’s blessing, he returned to the Tilden manor.
Wesley Tilden could be found in his study, going over the accounts, a complicated mass of figures resulting from harvest and preparations for winter. The Tildens did a good deal less sailing in the colder months, and storage, contracts for spring trading, and buying for the next planting made his days wild where his accounts were concerned. He was usually pleased to see Geoffrey, but this time he did not greet the young man with much warmth.
Geoffrey eyed the rolling pages, ink splotches, and look of frustration on the elder Tilden’s face.
“It appears, my lord, that even with five sons you could use an extra hand here.”
“It is perhaps because of my sons I need a hand. They produce for me, true, but they produce a business that is impossible to understand.”
Geoffrey laughed. “But would you scoff at more ships and another manager, my lord?”
“I have no lordship here, Geoffrey. Relax on your titles a bit. I am a farmer and merchant.”
“Your lordship is firmly accepted here, sir. As to my proposal: more goods, more ships, more land...”
“If you’re looking to buy into the shipping, lad, I gave my promise to your father before he died that if a new life had to be started, our families would unite whenever there was need. I can give you a decent figure.”
“I have letters of marque from His Majesty and my ships are available to England for her wars, but I am free to operate my trade as I will. I would gladly align my vessels with yours, but I don’t wish to buy into the family. I plan to build here, close enough to your family to be a part of it.”
“Sounds to me as if you are looking for adoption, not partnership.”
“In a manner, sir. Your daughter.” He chose his words carefully. “I think she is the perfect woman to stand at my side as my wife.”
Wesley Tilden cleared his throat and moved around to the opposite side of the desk; this was a friendship turned business. He admired and respected young Seavers, but Alicia fought him the harder the more he tried to help her. Something greater than caution possessed him.
“You love her?”
Geoffrey looked down and shuffled his feet, feeling no older than fourteen. “Aye,” he said.
“How do you know?” Wesley insisted.
“I know,” Geoffrey insisted, not looking up at the older man. “I have loved her for a very long time.”
“I wouldn’t consider less than a fortnight a very long time, son. Not under the best of circumstances. And from what I may judge, my daughter has not glanced your—”
“Sir, I admit that I was well acquainted with Alicia in London, the details of our—ah—friendship are rather—that is, very hard to explain.”
What Geoffrey faced now was certainly an angry scowl.
“If you will try, I’m certain you can do some explaining.”
Geoffrey rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, then turned and meandered about the small room. “My lord,” he attempted, “I—ah, damn, this is difficult. I truly cannot divulge the details, but I can assure you that while I was acquainted with Alicia in London, I treated her with the utmost respect and caution. If you ask Preston to bear this out, he will attest. If you can trust me for a while longer, I must see some personal matters settled before I can confide the intimate details of what I feel for your daughter.”
Geoffrey looked at the glowering man’s suspicious eyes and flinched slightly.
“My lord, I have, all my life, been truthful with you. I know your wish to protect your daughter is paramount, but I assure you, my intention is the same. I love her. And I believe she loves me, though it is certain she will fight me.
“And why, Lord Seavers, will Alicia fight you?” Wesley asked very slowly.
Geoffrey took a breath, bolstering himself. “Because, my lord, I was not gentle with her feelings. War was calling, my ships were leaving port, and I treated her ill. I was not there when she needed me. It is difficult for her to let me make things right.”
Wesley’s expression did not soften. However much he admired the lad, he would not see his daughter hurt.
“The Tildens are, all of us, a prideful and stubborn people. Alicia has already proven she is made of the same stuff. You may not be able to change her mind.”
Geoffrey straightened himself with determination. “I will change her mind, my lord. I love her.” He had learned, today, that saying that aloud felt amazingly good. “Can you accept me as her husband?”
“I will have to have her word on it, that is all I can say.”
“It would help considerably if you were in favor of the idea.”
Wesley found laughter on his lips. “You would like a sponsor, eh, lad?”
“It wouldn’t hurt, my lord.”
Wesley could hardly suppress the smirk. He had not foreseen how enjoyable it would be to interview a prospective son-in-law. “And you have ships? Land? A title?” Geoffrey nodded to each question asked. “All debts are settled and there is no trouble with the law?”
Geoffrey felt tension build. “There are a few loose ends, my lord. Minor, I assure you.”
“And what are your expectations of dower goods?”
“None, sir. I am interested in Alicia, not her dowry.”
“I have a substantial one that I look forward to giving her as her wedding gift, should she desi
re marriage. How do you feel about that?”
“I have some money and a debt that waits for me in England. If her dowry is even meager, I can pay my debt and build a house for her and will her my land. She will have security all of her days.”
“Then she would control her dower purse?”
“Of a certain, without your asking.”
“You are a very accommodating groom, Lord Seavers. I wonder what my daughter has done to make you so eager.”
“It was during a time when I was never so determined in anything as to keep free of bonds and promises, that Alicia touched my heart. I have been like a man crippled since she left London with no word. Now I’ve found her, I won’t let her slip away again.”
Wesley thought for a moment and looked up at Seavers again. “Tread carefully while you are here, Geoffrey. If your presence does my daughter ill, I will have you moved from this house.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And remember, Seavers, that this once my approval will not help you. If Alicia chooses another husband, my will rests on her choice.” He cleared his throat. He was a man too successful in all his endeavors to admit that in this he had no control. He feared Alicia’s flight from his family.
“She will not, my lord. As I taught her not to trust me, I can teach her to trust me anew.”
Again Wesley frowned. “In deference to my close kinship with your deceased family and your friendship with my son, I will allow this nonsense about the details of your friendship with my daughter to remain private—for now. But should I ever learn that you—”
“I swear, my lord, my foolishness in the way I treated Alicia can all be rectified if I am given half a chance to win her heart.”
Wesley grunted. “Preston dotes upon the lass. I suppose he wouldn’t allow you in this house if you had acted improperly.”
Geoffrey felt his pulse quicken and hoped the older gentleman would not notice. He was worried that his truthfulness on the matter of their marriage might only force Wesley to support him—endorse a marriage—but that was not what he wanted. He wanted her to come to him of her own free will. “Aye, sir,” he said.