by C. J. Archer
Foolish, foolish girl. He'd given her no indication he was prepared to put her before his adventuring. Indeed, he'd given her no indication he cared for her more than his sense of honor dictated.
"Ma'am?" Stokes prompted.
She cleared her throat and rallied her nerves. "I'll pass the message on," she assured him.
He nodded and bowed as he backed away. Min watched him until he left Knightridge Street.
"Shall we?" Hawkesbury said.
She nodded and walked alongside him, trying not to think about Blake. She failed miserably.
"I saw Blakewell earlier," he said as they made their way along Gracechurch Street, the same way Min had gone to Bedlam. She half expected to run into Blake coming in the opposite direction. She was no longer sure if she wished to or not. She certainly didn't know what she'd say to him.
She had no right to say anything that was in her heart. She'd rejected him, more than once. Of course he would leave London, leave her—it was always an inevitability. He belonged at sea.
And he'd not once said he loved her...
"Oh?" she said. "He didn't try to..."
"Kill me?" He laughed. "Not this time. I think he's decided to put aside his revenge."
"Really?" She frowned. "But he was so bent on it. Are you sure?"
"He told me so himself. He'll not seek to marry me to his sister as long as I fulfill a promise to carry out a service for him."
Blake sold his sister's honor for a promise? That certainly didn't sound like him. "But...she's been ill," she said pathetically, her illusions about Hawkesbury shattered. His charm was simply a façade and he was really the sort of man who didn't take responsibility for his actions. Poor Lilly.
"Do not blame him," he said. It took a moment for her to realize he meant Blake. "If I know Lilly, she would have made his life miserable had he continued to pursue me."
"Oh? That sounds most...unusual." She frowned. She was understanding the Blakewell siblings less and less. Did Lilly not want her child to have a father? Did she not want to marry Lord Hawkesbury?
Or, like Min, perhaps she did but she didn't want to force him.
Min suddenly understood Lilly Blakewell very well.
"She is a most unusual woman." By the quiet way he said it, she understood him to consider such uniqueness to be admired, cherished even. If he thought that way about Lilly Blakewell, why didn't he marry her? It was most perplexing.
They stopped outside the White Swan. Instead of going into the taproom, they went through the arch to the inn-yard. But they could get no further than the entrance. The crowd was too thick. Min couldn't see over their heads but she could hear a single voice above the unnatural silence. It was Henry Wells, speaking a line she recognized as Marius'.
"My play," she whispered. She stared at the back of the man in front of her. "But...but Style said he'd never show it again."
The man turned around and glowered. "Shut it," he hissed. "I can't hear."
Hawkesbury led Min outside to the street again. "You did this, didn't you?" she said, blinking up at the man she understood less than Blake. "Thank you."
He shook his head. "Thank Blakewell. He organized it."
"This was what he exchanged Lilly's honor for?"
Hawkesbury's head jerked back and Min realized with horror that she'd insulted him.
"I, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—."
"Don't trouble yourself." He smiled but it was thin and unconvincing. "I was glad I could do this for you. You're the best thing to happen to Style and his ilk since I've known them. You have my word that you can continue as their playwright for as long as you wish."
"But...what if the audience is repelled by a woman writing plays? They'll not come and your company will suffer."
He indicated the inn-yard and its audience. "Every one of them knows a woman wrote that play." He pointed to a handbill nailed to the wall near the entrance. Beneath the printed announcement of the play were the handwritten words: Penned by a Lady of Virtue.
"There wasn't time to have new ones printed up for today's performance," he said. "I watched Style write that himself."
"A Lady of Virtue?" Min chuckled. "I like it. Style must hate it."
He laughed. "It almost killed him to write it but he'll grow used to it. He'll certainly grow used to the profits your play brings. Tell me, is the next one as good?"
"Oh, it's better. Much better."
"Humorous?"
"I hope so." But the one after that would be full of sorrow and love lost. Her heart sank and her good humor with it.
"Min? Min, what are you doing with him?"
She spun around. "Blake? I..." His murderous expression made her pause, swallow. His hand flirted with his sword hilt but he didn't draw. At least his anger hadn't completely obliterated his common sense, although she wasn't sure for how long.
"Get away from her, Hawkesbury. I might have relinquished my revenge where Lilly is concerned by I will not countenance you being anywhere near Min unchaperoned."
"Blake!"
"You are here now," Hawkesbury said with a bow. "Timely. You can escort Mistress Peabody home."
"I demand to know what you are doing here with her!"
"He was showing me this afternoon's performance," Min said, perhaps a little too ungraciously. But...honestly! To think that she and Hawkesbury were... "I believe I have you to thank for this." She indicated the handbill.
Blake read it. "He told you."
"Was I not supposed to?" Hawkesbury said. "I thought it would assist you with..." He glanced at Min. "...er..."
"I don't need assistance," Blake said through his teeth.
"Quite," Min said. She curtsied a farewell to Lord Hawkesbury. "I've a mind to take my leave of you both now. Good day, my lord. And thank you."
He took her hand and kissed it but quickly dropped it when Blake moved closer. "It's been an honor to make your acquaintance, Mistress Peabody."
She turned and left. Blake strode up alongside her. "Contrary to his lordship's suggestion, I am not in need of an escort," she said. "I know the way and it is quite safe at this time of day."
"Min? What's wrong?" When she didn't answer, he halted her with a hand to her arm. His grip was too firm to shake off. "Min, what did that self-important prick say to you?"
"He was a gentleman. I like him." She realized a heartbeat too late that she'd crossed a line. The wounds caused by Hawkesbury abandoning Lilly were still raw for Blake, and he didn't deserve her rubbing salt in them, not after what he'd done to help her. "Blake—."
"You like him?" He walked off but doubled back and thrust his face into hers. "You like him?"
"He has some good points. Although he is a little...unfathomable," she added hastily.
"Min." He rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin and expelled a breath. A man and woman passed nearby and he waited, impatiently, for them to be out of earshot. "I may have given up my revenge on Hawkesbury but I can assure you, my brother will not. And I can't say I'm not unhappy about that. The earl is a snake. He hurt my sister and he'd not hesitate to hurt you too."
"I do not care for him in that way, Blake! Good Lord, I simply meant he is not the heartless wretch you think him. I know he only spoke to Style because of his arrangement with you, but it was considerate of him to bring me here himself."
"You do not..." He shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. "You have not developed an... an affection for him?"
"No!"
His arms dropped to his sides and he cleared his throat. "Ah, well, that's—."
"But if I had, it would not be your business."
He winced as if stung. Good. Let him see how much his impending departure had hurt her. She couldn't pretend that she didn't love him anymore, and that she wanted him to love her in return. Wanted him to think of her before he thought of anything else. Wanted, so very desperately, to be not only his wife but also the love of his life.
"Min, what's wrong? Is this about Hawkesbury or
something else?"
She walked off, acutely aware that he was staring at her back. "Good day, Blake." The quartermaster's message hung heavily around her neck but she didn't stop to impart it. Let him find out for himself. His own ship would hardly leave London without him.
Miraculously, she made it home in one piece and without shedding a tear. It was an entirely different story when she shut the door. She leaned against it, all the breath knocked out of her, and sobbed.
Jane emerged from the kitchen and rushed to fold her into her arms. "What's wrong, dear girl? What's happened?"
Min was too overset to speak so she simply shook her head. Then the door at her back banged as if someone had swung an axe at it. The banging turned to rapid pounding.
"Who is it?" Jane called out.
"Blakewell. Open up! I wish to speak to Min."
Min shook her head at the maid. "She's not here," Jane said through the door.
"I saw her enter!" An almighty thump made the door shake. The women stepped away from it just as another thump caused the door to spring open. "Min!" Blake stormed inside, all massive and powerful and...desperate. "I demand to know what is the matter. And do not attempt to shrug off my concern because I know something has set you against me."
"Jane, you may go," Min said.
"But Mistress—." At Min's stern look, Jane nodded and headed to the kitchen.
Min gathered her courage and faced up to the towering presence blocking her doorway. "Blake, I've been remiss. I should have given you a message earlier but I failed to do so."
"Message? What message?" He shook his head and stepped closer. He was so near she could feel the heat emanating from him in waves. "It's of no concern right now anyway, whatever it is. If you'll not tell me what is the matter, then I must tell you something. Something I should have said days ago. You affect me, Min, in a way that no one has done before." The firm jaw softened, shuddered, and he blinked.
She put her hands behind her back and clasped them hard. "Do I?" she said, managing to sound quite cool when all she felt was heat sliding through her body.
"Yes." His thumb touched the corner of her mouth. "Do you know you have the most beguiling freckle here?"
"No." Her traitorous heart almost thundered right over the top of her answer.
"Ever since I saw it," he said, "I've tried to ignore its allure."
Oh. "You have?"
He nodded. "But I've been a fool. Ignoring something so tempting as your freckle is fruitless. It has invaded my every waking thought, and most of my sleeping ones, ever since I set eyes on it. So I've come to a conclusion."
Ah. This was it. The announcement of his departure. She steeled herself. It wasn't going to be easy to hear.
"I've decided I must possess that freckle or keep trying for the rest of my days. And so, since you and your freckle are not to be parted, I'd like you to accept my proposal of marriage."
She closed her eyes. It was much easier than looking at him—his handsome face, his kissable mouth.
She shook her head. "Blake—."
He placed the tip of his finger over her lips. She opened her eyes to see the most intense expression she'd ever seen him wear. He wasn't being fair. He simply wasn't...
"You haven't let me finish." He cupped her face in his hand, his thumb caressing the corner of her mouth where the freckle resided. "I love you, Min. You are...everything to me. More than everything."
"Everything?" she whispered.
He nodded. "You mean more to me than sailing, more than the New World, more than treasure."
Her bodice was much too tight. She couldn't breathe. "More than adventuring?"
He smiled. "The only adventure I wish to embark upon is with you, here. I don't want to be anywhere else. Besides, I've decided I can't live without you, Min. So you simply have to—have to—accept me this time."
A tingling thrill skittered through her, making every nerve stand up and sing. "Yes," she said, breaking into a silly grin, "I suppose I do."
He cupped her face and kissed her. Hotly. Deeply. A kiss that she felt all the way down to her toes. She would remember it forever.
But he broke it all too suddenly. "Now," he murmured against her lips, "you said you had a message to give me."
She did? What...? "Oh. Yes. Your quartermaster..." Good Lord her mind was so addled she couldn't remember the fellow's name.
"Stokes," Blake said with a smile that told her he knew exactly why her memory had failed her.
"Yes, Stokes. He was here."
"Here?" He pulled away and frowned. "Why?"
"He was looking for you."
"But... Oh." He chewed on his top lip. "That's why you were...upset with me." He circled his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "He told you my ship was leaving tomorrow and me with it?"
"So it's not?" Despite his heartfelt assurances and his hot kisses, Min still held her breath for his answer.
"Yes it is."
Her heart stopped beating. She stared at him, not sure if she wanted to shout in anger or burst into tears. He still planned to sail? But—.
"But I'm not going with it," he said. "Of course you already knew that." His mouth tipped into one of his crooked smiles. The tease. "Didn't you, my love?"
"Uh, yes, of course I knew. You told me so."
He squeezed her and chuckled. "In my rush to get here to see you earlier I forgot to send new orders to Stokes, telling him he's the new captain of the Silver Star and that he's to sail as planned. Without me."
She beamed. She couldn't help it. He was staying—for her.
"I adore your smile." He let go of her and held out his hand. "Now, will my blushing bride join me in telling the world of our marriage plans? We'll start with our families and end with Lord Hawkesbury's Men."
Min placed her hand inside his and tugged him closer. He didn't resist. "First, I want another kiss."
He grinned and dipped his head. "Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets." He pecked her on the lips but, frustratingly, withdrew. "Always." Then he pulled her into his chest and took her breath away with his searing kiss.
PROLOGUE
Jane cried when Min told her she was to marry Blake and live at his house, and that she was to be Min's maid of the chamber. When Sir George awoke, Blake asked for his blessing. Her father gave it then returned to the book he was reading. Min was surprised to see it wasn't a scientific one but one she'd used to research her plays—a translation of Plutarch's Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans.
"That's your family seen to," Blake said as he planted yet another kiss on Min's lips that thoroughly rattled her senses.
She smiled against his mouth. So this was what happiness truly felt like. A lightness of being, a sense that she could conquer any obstacle, achieve anything she desired. It was quite a heady experience.
"Now onto yours," she said.
"Yes." He drew in a deep breath. "But I must warn you, my mother can be...taxing."
They arrived at the house just before supper and entered a hive bustling with activity. The servants scurried about and not even the steward was present to greet them.
"My brother must be home," Blake said. He took Min's hand. "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"You'll find out soon enough. But first, come and meet Lilly."
He led her to a large bedchamber at the top of the stairs. All around the walls hung embroideries and cloths of the finest workmanship, lending warmth and comfort to the room. Occupying the centre was a canopied bed where a young woman of ethereal beauty lay. Dark eyes shone with determination inside the shadows of illness, and inky black hair framed pallid skin and sunken cheeks. Her lips, rosy and full, were the only thing of color on her. They curved into a smile when she saw Blake and Min.
"This must be Minerva Peabody," she said.
Min approached and took the hand the woman offered. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mistress Blakewell."
"Call me Lilly." Lilly held out her other hand for Blake.
>
He took it and sat beside her on the bed. "Min has consented to be my bride."
Lilly's smile widened. "Congratulations! I'm so glad someone has finally seen my brother for what he is."
"Oh?" Min said, intrigued. "And what is he?"
"A puppy."
"Puppy," Blake scoffed.
"Of course," Lilly said to Min, ignoring her brother. "He pretends to be mysterious and brooding but really he's the most playful creature. Don't you think?"
Min smiled. "I'm not sure playful is quite the word I'd use."
"Precisely," Blake said.
"Stop being so childish," Lilly chided. "Or I'll have to tell Min all your secrets."
"I knew bringing her here was a mistake," he said. "You'll make her change her mind and she hasn't even met Mother yet."
Min laughed. Brother and sister certainly liked to tease each other. It was so refreshing. Having never had a sibling, she would like to have a sister. And a brother. Perhaps.
"Or Leo," Lilly said grimly, reading Min's thoughts.
"Has his lordship been in to see you yet?" Blake asked, letting go of Lilly's hand and taking Min's.
"A quick visit when he arrived to check on my health. I expect him back any moment."
She sounded less than enthusiastic by the prospect. Blake commented as such.
"It's your fault he's here at all," Lily said sourly. "If you hadn't summoned him from Warhurst Hall he would have left me alone."
"My fault?" Blake said. "Funny, I don't recall sleeping with Hawkesbury."
Min's eyes widened but Lilly simply snorted softly and Blake didn't try to retract his observation. It was going to take a lifetime for Min to understand their relationship. Fortunately she had one.
Just then a breeze swept through the room, followed by a man with Blake's imposing stature, dark hair and sharp good looks. Lord Warhurst. But where Blake's mouth was full, made for kissing, his brother's was tight, severe. And his eyes were the most vivid green Min had ever seen and when they flashed they resembled his mother's emerald rings.
He stopped in the doorway, assessed the newcomers and bowed stiffly at Min. She stood suddenly and smiled a greeting. "Lord Warhurst, I believe. My name is Minerva Peabody. I am to be your new sister."