by Cheryl Holt
“You try very hard to make that statement true.”
“I don’t have to try hard,” he claimed. “I don’t have to try at all.”
“Would you really have tossed us out?”
“Probably.”
“But Mr. Robertson dissuaded you.”
“He’s my moral compass.”
“Which is good. What is he to you? Are you related?”
“No, he was simply on the same ship as I. He was clerk to a grain merchant and they were on their way home. Before the pirates attacked, we had chatted a few times, but that was all. Then we spent several days clinging to a log and fighting for our lives. It’s interesting how that type of dire situation can bond one fellow to another.”
“You’re bonded now?”
“Absolutely. We’re closer than two brothers could ever be. He imagines I’m some kind of hero for saving him.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Gad, no. I was as terrified as he was. I hid it better.”
“What became of the grain merchant? Was he pitched overboard too?”
“Yes, and unfortunately Ralston tells me he had gold coins sewn into the hem of his coat, so it was very heavy. He sank before I hit the water, so he likely drowned.”
“You don’t know?”
“We sent inquiries up and down the coast, in case he was found, but we’ve never heard a word.”
“Your story gets more horrid with each tidbit you share.”
She glanced up, finding him to be much nearer than she’d realized. He was scowling, as if confused by their proximity. He was studying her mouth, and she suffered from the strangest notion that he was considering kissing her. It was absurd, but she couldn’t move beyond the outrageous prospect.
She stepped away, and when he stepped too, she held out a hand to stop him, to warn him off, and her palm smacked into his bare chest. His skin was as hot and smooth as she’d predicted it would be.
“I beg your pardon,” she murmured as she pulled away.
“You don’t have to beg pardon from me,” he said. “It’s been an eternity since I’ve seen an Englishwoman. If you want to place your hand on my chest—or anywhere else for that matter—I won’t complain.”
“Mr. Hubbard, you apparently assume I have loose tendencies, but I have no idea why you would.”
“You’re a long way from home, Sister Faithful, and there’s no one to chaperone or tattle on you. You can act however you choose.”
She’d just had this same discussion with Rowena, and it was odd to her to suppose morals could be ignored simply because one was off on her own and away from what was familiar.
“I expect I’ll act as I always have,” she firmly responded.
“Well, you don’t have to. Not around me, and if you relax a bit, you might actually have some fun while you’re here.”
“I’m having plenty of fun,” she insisted.
“Are you?” His lazy gaze drifted down her torso. “It’s seems to me you’re cranky because you’re miserably uncomfortable in those heavy clothes.”
“I’m fine.”
“There are some women’s garments in a cupboard if you’d ever like to wear what’s more realistic for the climate. You should definitely get rid of your veil. No one will die of shock if you have your hair uncovered.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And I will state categorically that I would love to see all that red hair curling over your shoulders whenever I look at you.”
“Mr. Hubbard! You appear to believe I’m someone other than who I am.”
“You’re not a nun. Not yet anyway.”
“How do you know that?”
“Your friend, Sister Rowena, mentioned it to Ralston.”
“Maybe Rowena should be more circumspect.”
He shrugged. “I don’t deem it a particularly astonishing admission, though I wonder why you’ve never taken your vows.”
“I haven’t been ready to take my vows.”
His eyes searched hers, probing for details she was quite sure she shouldn’t permit him to ascertain. She glanced away, and he chuckled.
“Since you’re not ready for your vows, perhaps you’re ready for something else. If you commit a few sins, it’s not as if anyone will ever realize it.”
“I would know.”
“Who cares about you? So long as you never confess, you could pretend it never happened.”
“Is that how you go through life, excusing your misdeeds and pretending you haven’t transgressed?”
“Yes, it’s how I always behave, and it’s been grand so far. I enjoy myself very much, which is more than I can say from what I’ve seen of you.”
He tugged on her wimple, not with enough force to remove it, but undeniably indicating that he’d like to and would with the slightest encouragement.
“Stop that!” she scolded, and she batted him away.
He leaned in and whispered, “Live a little, Sister Faithful. Let down your pretty hair.”
He was so near, his breath brushing her cheek, and his closeness was so thrilling that she was surprised her knees didn’t buckle. Still though, she had sufficient control of her wits to draw away and frown.
“Are you asking if I’d be amenable to a…a…flirtation?”
“I’m an expert at seduction,” he said. “If you get bored while you’re here, let me know, and we’ll find out if you have a knack for it yourself.”
She blushed furiously and started toward her bedchamber.
“Goodnight, Sister,” he called to her retreating back.
“Goodnight, Mr. Hubbard.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I can’t wait,” she groused.
“Neither can I.”
There was a taunting tone in his remark that made her halt and peer over at him. He was staring at her like a cat toying with a mouse, like a hawk circling its prey.
“Leave me be,” she said. “Please?”
Looking decadent and debauched, he grinned. “I’ll try—but not very hard.”
“I don’t want this from you. If I’ve acted in a manner that was—”
He cut her off. “I think, Sister Faithful, that you’re lonely and scared.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Liar.” He smirked. “I also think I might be able to give you exactly what you need to fix what’s wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me!”
“Isn’t there?”
The question hung in the air between them, and while she yearned to apprise him of the numerous reasons she was better than ever, the truth was that he was correct. She was a mess, confused and afraid and certain all her decisions were idiotic.
But she’d never admit it.
She spun and fled before she could devise an excuse to remain.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Checkmate.”
“How did you do that so fast?”
Rowena scowled at Mr. Robertson. She was excellent at chess, but he’d bested her in twelve moves, and he’d barely hesitated in order to consider his strategy.
“My father was a master at it,” he said, “and we played all the time.”
“He taught you?”
“Yes, and my brothers too, but they’re all smart as the devil, so it was impossible to beat them.”
“So you’ve taken to beating me instead. Do you enjoy beating women?”
“Well…” He paused, realized the double entendre, and laughed. “You’re a sly one, aren’t you? Yes, I like beating women—at chess and other games.”
She laughed too, liking how young she felt, how free and liberated from the restrictions of a life she loathed. Except for the stupid wimple covering her hair, she might have been any other twenty-year-old girl flirting with a handsome man. And she was delighted to report that he was very handsome.
He resembled Mr. Hubbard in many ways, closely enough in some respects that they might have been brothers. Tall and fit, with Mr. Hubbar
d’s same six feet in height, Mr. Robertson’s shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, his legs lean and muscled. He had black hair, worn long and unbarbered like Mr. Hubbard’s, but while Mr. Hubbard’s eyes were very blue, Mr. Robertson’s were the most delightful shade of green.
As she’d deduced early on, the true difference between him and Mr. Hubbard was in their character. Mr. Hubbard was arrogant, curt, and imperious, and he didn’t seem to like people very much. Mr. Robertson was his exact opposite.
He was happy and contented, glad to have a woman in the house, glad he had a new person to talk to. If he was worried about his predicament of being trapped in Africa without the resources to go home, he didn’t show it.
She sighed, wishing she were a man. He was male and a bachelor, which meant he could work at a job, travel with his employer, visit Egypt and other exotic places. He could have adventures and fend for himself and get into and out of various jams, and he was never reprimanded or told to behave better.
He’d glommed on to a property that wasn’t his and was being scandalously pampered by servants who weren’t his own. Apparently he felt no moral compunction to end his idyll, to conduct himself more appropriately. Nor did he appear to feel guilty over his good fortune in landing himself in such an interesting quandary.
“Why are you sighing?” he asked. “Am I boring you?”
“No, I’m not bored.”
He was completely attuned to her, and she was thrilled by his attention. At the convent, no one noticed her unless she spoke too loudly or ignored her assigned chores.
“I was thinking how lucky you are,” she said.
“Lucky? How am I lucky?”
“You’re a man.”
“Yes, and we rule the world.”
“You’re living in this dramatic spot, and there’s no one to tell you that you can’t.”
“Well, except the true owner who I expect will barge in one of these days and boot us out.”
“What will you do then?”
“I suppose we’ll finally head for England.”
“But you’re in no hurry.”
“No,” he said. “I’m having a grand time, and even if I had the chance to depart, I’d never leave Mr. Hubbard here by himself.”
“Why is that?”
“He needs me.”
“Does he?” she asked. “He seems rather independent and quite satisfied with his lot. If you left, are you certain he’d miss you?”
“I’m certain he wouldn’t, but I would miss him dreadfully. We’ve become so close the past few months. I couldn’t imagine spending a single second without him.”
“You almost sound smitten. If you were a female, I’d say you absolutely were.”
“I’m incredibly fond of him. And so grateful.”
“Why?”
“Must you ask? He saved my life over and over again.”
“Really? How?”
“On the ship, when the pirates attacked? Oh my, you should have seen him! He was so brave and heroic.”
“He fought them?”
“To the very end. Even when it was clear that all was lost, that we couldn’t hope to prevail, he battled to the last man.”
“My goodness.”
“Then when we were in the water, he was the one who made me hold on. He was so dashing and commanding, and he refused to let me give up. I owe him everything.”
“My goodness,” she said again.
“I’ll stay with him for as long as he chooses to remain.”
She liked that he was so loyal to Mr. Hubbard, that he’d support Mr. Hubbard through thick and thin. It was a far cry from the conduct of the women at the convent. They all had little in the way of material possessions or power, so they hoarded their petty property and bickered over status. The least change in routine, even such minor issues as rearrangement of the seating chart at supper, had people fuming for weeks.
Did Mr. Hubbard realize how fortunate he was to have Mr. Robertson’s total devotion? Probably not. He was terribly self-centered.
She shoved the chess board away and put her elbows on the table, leaning forward so she was nearer to him. On their lengthy journey to Rome and back, she’d crossed paths with many men, but Mother Superior had watched Rowena like a hawk, so she hadn’t been able to chat with any of them.
But she was alone now and on her own, and while Faith wouldn’t approve of any transgression, she wasn’t Rowena’s parent or chaperone. She could counsel and advise, but she had no authority over Rowena at all.
“Would you call me Rowena?” she asked. “Not Sister Rowena. Just Rowena?”
“I would be delighted to call you Rowena.”
“While I’m here, I want to be as daring as you. I want to pretend I’m someone else from who I actually am.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“It’s how it seems to me.”
He pondered, then grinned. “Yes, you’ve perfectly described my situation. Generally I’m a tedious, orthodox dolt. I’ve never rocked a boat or broken a rule in my entire life.”
“May I call you Ralston?” she boldly inquired.
“You’d better.”
“Let’s act as if we’ve always known each other, as if we’ve always been friends.”
“If that’s the plan,” he said, “you should tell me a bit about yourself so I can readily spew a few facts.”
“I’ll tell if you will,” she retorted.
“My history is so dull I’ll likely put you to sleep.”
“Dull! Aren’t you the intrepid adventurer who survived a pirate attack?”
“It’s the only extraordinary thing that ever happened to me, and with my having experienced the extraordinary, the just plain ordinary will suit me from now on.”
“Where are you from?” she asked.
“A small town southwest of London. My father was the vicar.”
“Ooh, a preacher’s son! Lovely.”
“Why would you deem it to be lovely? I’ve always thought it the most dreary circumstance imaginable.”
“Preacher’s sons are supposed to be very wicked. Preacher’s daughters too.”
“From my perspective, there was never an opportunity to misbehave. We spent an awful lot of time in church and being sermonized.”
“Was your father horrid?”
“No, he was actually a marvelous fellow. I never could bear to disappoint him.”
“Did you disappoint him?”
“Never. I was the most obedient child ever born. My brothers vexed him though.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Five older, two younger, and three little sisters.”
“Eleven!”
“Yes, we definitely had a houseful.”
“Your poor mother.”
“Money was always tight, and we wore a lot of mended stockings and hand-me-down clothes, but we were a happy bunch.” He leaned forward on his elbows too, their arms not quite touching. “How about you? Were you happy?”
“No, not for a single minute.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.” He looked truly sympathetic, and it was wonderful to be chatting with someone who listened. “Why did you join the convent? Was your family terribly religious?”
“Gad, no. My parents locked me away against my will.”
It was a hideous deed that still galled her.
She had one sibling, a sister who was perfect in every way, pretty and charming and adept at all the social graces. Rowena had tried to imitate her, to be docile and modest, but she simply couldn’t tamp down her worst impulses.
She liked to laugh and sing and play. When she was angry, she liked to shout with fury. When she was sad, she liked to weep with dismay. She had a large, loud personality and had never been able to rein it in—much to her parents’ chagrin.
Her early years had been full of scolds and spankings and being sent to bed without supper. As she’d reached adolescence and had started to develop a woman’s body, she’d grown eve
n more unruly.
She had beautiful chestnut-colored hair that was thick and luxurious, and her eyes were big and brown and expressive. Her figure was curvaceous and shaped to draw a man’s attention.
She’d reveled in the excitement of naughty flirting, but when she’d been caught sneaking off with the local squire’s son—an inappropriate boy who’d been far above her in rank and station—she’d been packed off to the convent so fast her head was still spinning over it.
One day, she’d been a loose, frivolous girl in a comfortable home where she’d had pin money to spend and no duties to plague her. The next, she’d been swaddled in black clothes and scrubbing floors for grumpy older women she couldn’t abide.
She’d gradually adapted to her quiet world with only female companions. She’d stumbled on a calling of sorts in the nursery, caring for babies. They sheltered unwed mothers and helped them to either locate husbands or place their children out for adoption.
She was clever with children, and her skill was the reason Mother Superior had let her travel to the convocation in Rome. She’d needed Rowena to act as nanny to Mary, Martha, and Millie on the way back.
Rowena had wrangled a marvelous adventure for herself, and many times during the journey, she’d thought about running away. It was an easy scheme to ponder, but in reality the prospect of traipsing off alone with no funds or friends was incredibly daunting, fraught with peril, and most likely to end in tragedy.
She hadn’t run. She’d stayed with Mother Superior and Faith, had been pleasant and biddable and thoroughly delighted after the girls joined their tiny caravan.
But the lure of freedom was beckoning, and with Mother Superior deceased, there was no authority figure to demand restraint. Rowena would welcome any chance to walk down a different road.
As she gazed into Ralston’s kind, handsome face, she definitely believed he could be her ticket to a new life. Why not? He was a bachelor from a good family. He was loyal and steady and true. There was no rule or law to prevent her from trying to persuade him.
“They locked you away?” He appeared suitably aghast.
“Yes. They claimed I was too wild and would ultimately embarrass them by getting myself into trouble with a neighbor boy.”
“Would you have?”
She shrugged. “I never had the opportunity to find out. Plus they refused to pay for a wedding for me. They’d frittered away all their money on my sister.”