Great Britain had enacted the Orders in Council in 1807 which forbade neutral ships to trade with Europe – especially France – without stopping in England first. Intending to strike a blow against American traders, England had not counted on the skill or daring of Yankee blockade runners. The United States still prospered, but grew in their outrage over the British practice of impressments: taking British deserters off American vessels to return them to the stricter and lower-paying jobs of English seamen. Many of these sailors, however, were true American citizens, and were actually being kidnapped to build up the dwindling British navy. President Jefferson retaliated with The Embargo Act, which forbade American ships to sail for any foreign port, a horrendous self-inflicted blow to U.S. trade.
Thousands of sailors were immediately put out of work. Ships rotted in the harbors while merchants stood by helpless, their businesses ruined. Stores of American wheat, cotton and tobacco piled up on the docks, their prices plummeting to rock bottom.
Chamberlain, who had made his own fortune as a shipbuilder and trader, had been lucky enough to escape immediate devastation. But he could not sit idly by while good seamen lost their jobs, fine ships deteriorated in the harbors and much-needed goods sat wasting away without a market. At the first opportunity, he sailed for England, determined to find people who agreed that these economic boycotts were wasteful and ill-conceived and was bent on finding a scheme that would bring some order to all this chaos.
Weston, impressed with the younger man’s common sense – as well as his courage to gamble with the world power bureaucracies – immediately agreed to a partnership whereby they would trade under a neutral foreign flag. Together, they had the financial resources, the political influence, and the business know-how to succeed – and both were eager to begin.
But not too eager to leave, Stewart thought, running a long, lean finger across the cleft of his chin as he surveyed the woman beside him in the firelight. In her softly clinging dressing gown, her dark, glossy hair streaming over her firm breasts, she looked like a delicate rosebud, ready to blossom at the slightest provocation. He could almost imagine how tantalizing she would be, writhing beneath him in ecstasy as they jointly partook of the joys their bodies could give each other. But as his dark eyes rose again to her face, it was not the smoky blue gaze he had imagined, but a wide, troubled one.
“Mr.Chamberlain,”shepleaded,her sensuous lips quivering slightly. “Please. There is something I must say to you. And it will be much too difficult if you continue to stare at me – in that way.” Sarah squirmed on the sofa, pulling her gown more protectively around her slim form.
“Yes?” Stewart replied, blinking to dispel his pleasant reverie. “What is it, Lady Sarah?” Drawing a deep breath, Sarah prayed fervently that her words would resolve the tension she felt whenever he was near. Hoping her honesty would appeal to his sense of fairness, she began, “Mr. Chamberlain, a man of your vast experience must surely realize that I have led a rather sheltered, quiet existence. I am troubled by your boldness and have so far been unsuccessful in making my objections clear. Since I do not wish to offend my father by being rude to his guest, I would like to propose a compromise – of sorts – so that I can continue living in my own home without fear of losing my virtue.”
She stopped then, hoping to gauge his reaction to her words, but Stewart’s face was a handsome mask. Seeing her pause, he raised a dark eyebrow as a signal for her to continue.
So he wasn’t going to make it easy, Sarah thought, feeling her temper rise. Willing herself to remain calm, she went on, painful though the effort was. “At this time, I have no special suitor. This fact, I know, causes my parents and my sister concern, though I have not given it much care. If you wish to court me – as a gentleman courts a lady
– I-I will try my best to give you a fair trial. I only ask that you do not abuse your liberty to act as a beau and that you make it clear to Juliana your intentions toward me. I would not wish to hurt her in any way.”
Casually, Stewart resettled himself in the chair, his hand tugging at his mouth to restrain a grin. “Go on,” he finally uttered.
Sarah was startled. “Go on? I just told you what I would agree to.” “Sarah,youspokeearlierofacompromise. That means both of us must make concessions. You have not yet told me how you plan to concede. I have already told you what I wish from you, but so far you’ve made no mention of our physical needs.” His dark brown gaze on her was innocent and quizzical, yet his words stroked her as surely as a caress. “What of that?”
“B-but I told you,” Sarah replied urgently, feeling the blood rise to her cheeks. “As my suitor – if we find the situation a compatible one—I would not be opposed to some ...” she groped for the word, “affection. And if by some miracle, our relationship were to blossom, we would marry and you would have all you desire.”
“Ah hah,” Stewart responded and a deep rumbling chuckle escaped from his lips. “I see. So you expect to be wed to me before you discard your innocence?” Ignoring her nod, he continued, “Well, ‘Your Grace’,” he mocked, “you must surely think yourself some prize to try and extract a proposal of marriage from me just to bed you. I am truly sorry to disappoint you, but the idea of matrimony does not appeal to me. Especially,” he emphasized with a wave of his arm toward her, “to someone whose abilities to satisfy a mate for life are completely untested.
“No Sarah, it appears that you have not compromised in the least. I would think you’d be willing to strike a better bargain, when you have so much to gain.” Stewart ended calmly, a twinkle lighting up his dark eyes. He knew that he had lit the fuse.
Seething, Sarah sat straight up on the settee, her azure eyes blazing steel. “Sir, the audacity of your tongue far exceeds your crude behavior! I have nothing to gain by your pawing – and a great deal to lose!”
“But you said it yourself,” Stewart replied, leaning forward, muscular thighs. moment – and at your age that is considered dire. At least my attentions will give your family cause to hope that you can yet attract a husband before one will have to be found for you.”
his forearms resting on his “You have no suitors at the
But in truth, Stewart knew, she was far from desperate. Rarely had he met a young woman so beautiful or captivating. Her thick, chestnut hair hung in tumbling waves about her lovely, pure face. Eyes of the deepest blue were encircled by long black lashes and even though, at this moment, her face was contorted by her rage, a fine bone structure beneath the rosy hue of her flawless skin ensured that each expression was as appealing as the last. He remembered the delicious feel of her slim yet soft and pliant body next to his and he knew that if any other man had been able to get as close as he, she would certainly be claimed by now.
Even as he taunted her, Stewart knew he’d be willing to bide his time to have her, for she was surely a prize. But at the same time, it would never do to openly approve of her virginal games, for he certainly did not. He was -- and always had been
-a man of expedience. When he wanted something, he assessed its value and paid the fair price. Lady Sarah Tremont was certainly worth his patience, but she, nor any woman for that matter, was due his name. Bachelorhood suited his temperament and lifestyle, and there was nothing here that he could foresee capable of changing his mind.
His reverie was abruptly interrupted when Sarah suddenly leapt from the sofa, ignoring the pain it caused her to do so. Feet apart, her hands on her slender hips, she spit fury. “In my entire life, I have never been so insulted! Not only have you laid claim to my body – as if I were a trollop – you shamelessly offend me not once but twice today by suggesting that I have neither the propensities nor the means with which to attract a husband!”
Shaking the flowing tresses from her face, she continued, “You are such an inept swain, lacking in the art of seduction, that you must force your intentions upon me like a rutting stallion. And when I counter your attack, you choose to ridicule me to save your own pride.
“Your behavior is
despicable, Mr. Chamberlain, and I heartily regret tendering a truce between us. And,” she bit off, shaking a finger at his face, unmarred by her tirade, “I will make absolutely sure that our paths never cross again!” CHAPTER 7
Sarahhadneverbeensofuriousinherlife. Stewart Chamberlain, with his superficial charm thinly veiling a total disrespect for gently-bred women, had affronted her beyond her own comprehension. He was a brute without morals, an unscrupulous cad parading himself as a gentleman of taste, discretion and elegance. She hated and feared his composure and his complete domination of every encounter. He was like a beautiful black panther she had once seen in London – cool, aloof, disdainful – until he scented the trepidation of his prey. Then, without warning, a spring, and in one fell swoop, total annihilation.
Her breast heaving beneath the rose gown, she jerked her blazing blue eyes from Stewart’s face, and, forgetting the pain in her left side, stomped off toward the library doors. So overwrought by her own anger and humiliation, she did not realize he was right behind her until she felt his long fingers clamp ever so gently but firmly on her upper arm. Before she could scream for aid, his other hand covered her mouth and pushed her head back against the hollow beneath his chin.
Stewart’s uncompromising hold and the knowledge that she was completely helpless to defend herself so shocked Sarah that she could not summon the will to even attempt escape. The panther, indeed, had sprung, and her fate was frighteningly obvious. Simultaneously cursing her own stupidity for being caught off guard and praying for mercy, she did not realize she was shaking and sobbing in his grasp.
“You will not cry out?” Stewart demanded in the quietest of tones. Weakly, she shook her head, a move barely possible because of her imprisonment. His voice, ever so ominous, stirred the hair covering her ear, sending chills up her spine. “You are safe,” he breathed, his tone defying her to conjure any doubts as to that fact.
Slowly, his hand left her mouth, slipping to her shoulder as he gently turned her around to face him. Keeping one hand on her arm, he used the other to retrieve a muslin handkerchief from his coat pocket. As he daubed at her tears, still streaming silently down her face, she cast her eyes straight ahead, seeing only his chest. Using his free hand to tilt her chin upward, he sought to repair the damage to her distraught face. Sarah kept her eyes closed tightly, clamping her mouth shut to hold back her sobs, as her mind reeled with anger, fear and foreboding. As if he were merely continuing a quiet conversation, Stewart began speaking in a gentle voice.
“My mother used to warn me that my terseness would someday be my undoing,” he said, brushing at her thick lashes clumped into spikes by her tears. “I often wished to show her that such forthrightness had brought me much success in business. But it now dawns on me that she was referring to matters of a much more personal nature – and I fear she was right after all,” he said, and Sarah detected a wistfulness in his tone. Her eyes still shut, she listened to the rustle of his coat as he returned the cloth to his pocket and then placed both hands on her upper arms. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her upturned face.
“It has not been my desire to woo a lady, for my use of women has been simple and basic,” he continued, feeling her arms stiffen at his frankness. “But it occurs to me now that I might have underestimated the value of a woman as a companion – perhaps even a friend.”
Sarah, unable to hide her curiosity over his surprisingly conciliatory words, opened her puffy eyes slightly to look upon his face. His flared eyebrows were knit in a thoughtful, serious pose and his brown gaze penetrated hers with an intensity she had not seen before.
“Sarah,Icannotapologizeformywordsor my actions, for they stem from the truth of this matter between us ... which is a mutual attraction.” Sarah quickly dropped her head, stemming the contradiction on her lips. He seemed to know what she would have said. “I know you cannot admit it to me, for you were reared to speak naught of such things. But I would not wish to be spurned before we have had the opportunity to know and understand each other ... and I see that my words have nearly done the deed. For that,” he whispered, pulling her closer, “I am truly sorry.
“So,” he said rather gru ffly, and Sarah sensed this speech was an effort for him, “I will give you my word that no harm will come to you at my hands and I beseech you to reinstate your offer to allow me to court you – ‘as a gentleman courts a lady’ – I think you said. Whatever springs from our liaison will be because you desire it. Can you agree to this now?”
Her head still bowed and her mind tumbling with a gamut of disjointed thoughts, she answered with the only comment she could honestly make. “I do not trust you.”
“I can understand your feelings,” he replied. “And all I can tell you is that I am a man of my word. Your father knows this. Look at me, Sarah,” he implored and she raised her head slightly to seek his face beneath her thick, black lashes. “You have my solemn promise that your feelings will be considered in this relationship. And if I play you false,” he added, his sensual lips curling up in a slight grin, “you only have to tell your father. Indeed I have much to lose that is of no small importance to my future. I trust the terms are fair?”
“Oh,” she sighed and her breath came out in a shudder. “I-I cannot say ... I feel ‘twould be simpler to drop the whole matter, for it has been going badly for me since the moment we met,” she answered, wincing as she rubbed her left hip.
Stewart laughed aloud, visibly relaxing as he looped his left arm through her right one and began moving her toward the library doors. “Lady Sarah, your wit is a delight to my ears. Come; let me escort you to the servants’ stairs. You needn’t make any decisions tonight, for I have decided to show you what a charming, trustworthy companion I can be. If, by week’s end, you find me thoroughly revolting, then you can tell me so and I’ll never impose myself on you again.”
As he guided her to the door to the back stairs, he continued gallantly, his handsome dark eyes brimming with humor. “Good night, Lady Sarah. Pleasant dreams and I look forward to our next meeting. Until then,” he gestured, bending to make a magnificent leg, especially for a Yankee. And with that he turned on his heel and strolled casually back down the hall toward the library, leaving Sarah to gawk at him, a look of total surprise on her innocent, tear-stained face. CHAPTER 8
True to his words, Sarah could find no fault with Stewart’s behavior over the following days, even though at first she tried. During their times together, at dinner and afterwards in the parlor, he was poised, polite, complimentary and the conversations they shared were fascinating to Sarah, who had never ventured farther from her home than Brighton Beach. Stewart was full of stories about the many places he’d visited during his days as a sailor. Minimizing the dangers involved in his exploits, he spoke easily of the many people he had met and the exotic places he had been.
Though she tried not to show it, Sarah was impressed. Stewart had lived a life she had known only through her books. In vain, she sought to quell her curiosity, but because Stewart maintained a certain modesty about his adventures, she found herself asking many more questions that she meant to. The last thing she wanted to do was give Stewart the idea that she was interested in him, but alas, she could not hide it.
Late on the fifth afternoon of his visit, shortly following the departure of Weston’s business associates with whom he and Chamberlain had been meeting, Sarah heard a quick rapping on her door.
“Yes?” she responded, marking the place in the book she had been trying to read. The door opened and Tegan stepped into the room, a cheery smile on her rosy face.
“LadySarah,Mr.Chamberlainhasaskedme to see if you would care to join him on a walk to the stables. He feels the need for some exercise, he said, and would enjoy your company.”
Sarah was delighted to hear the invitation, but she refused to give Tegan the satisfaction of knowing her feelings. Ignoring the maid’s beaming expression, she replied offhandedly, “Tell Mr. Chamberlain I will be down shortly
. I should visit Serena, since I have not seen her since the fall. I wouldn’t want her to think I bear a grudge ....”
“Nomum,”Teganchuckled,notatallfooled by her mistress’s nonchalance. “You wouldn’t want that. I’ll tell Mr. Chamberlain.” As she turned to leave the room, she added, “It’s a lovely day. I think all you’ll need is a shawl.”
AssoonasTeganwasgone,Sarahjumped out of her chair, rushed to the mirror and furiously began brushing her dark hair until it shone. As she carelessly pinned it up off her neck, she chided herself for suddenly feeling so radiant. “It’s simply that he is someone new to talk to,” she muttered to her reflection in the mirror, but she knew that didn't fully explain the glimmer of excitement in her deep blue eyes, or the sudden rosiness of her cheeks. Dismissing the inexplicable thoughts beginning to surface, she abruptly turned from the mirror, grabbed a shawl and bonnet from her bureau and hastily ran from the room.
Controlling her pace just before she reached the stairs, Sarah took a deep breath and slowly descended. Seeing Stewart’s casually-attired form, his back to her as he stared out the foyer window, Sarah could not resist the urge to smile. He looked so tall and handsome standing there with his hands behind his back, his curling hair sweeping the collar of his white shirt.
As if he knew she was there, Stewart suddenly whirled about and Sarah had no chance to hide her happy expression. “Good afternoon,” he said warmly, grinning pleasantly, his eyes reflecting his approval of her appearance. She was glad that she had chosen this pale green dress. Though simple, she knew it flattered her figure and set off her eyes dramatically. “I am glad you decided to walk with me,” he said, coming toward her. “That must mean you are recovered from your spill.”
“That’s right,” she replied, suddenly shy. “I feel nearly as good as before. Perhaps I’ll be able to ride tomorrow.”
Stewart politely took her elbow and led her to the front door. “I wish I could join you, but I will be returning to London tomorrow. I’ve an engagement I’m unable to break. But,” he added, as they stepped out onto the portico, “perhaps we could ride during my next visit?”
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