Of Rags and Riches Romance Collection

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Of Rags and Riches Romance Collection Page 19

by Dietze, Susanne; Griep, Michelle; Love, Anne


  May watched him go and did not care if any of the rough characters around her knew it. Samuel Austin III was certainly an enigma. With his long legs he crossed the deck easily, leaving the crewman to hurry to keep up.

  Today he was a curious mix of pirate and gentleman. As he barked orders to the laborers on deck and conferred with several men who appeared to hold a higher office than deckhand, he was definitely a man in command of his surroundings. Yet, when he sat in her father’s parlor, he’d seemed just as comfortable.

  Of the two places, he belonged here. May hardly knew this man, but it was easy to see this was where he was meant to be.

  A pang of jealousy hit her. She’d never felt such a kinship as to know she belonged somewhere. True, she was quite comfortable in New York, but did she belong there?

  She’d never had a deep certainty that she did.

  The man in question spied her watching him and held her gaze across the distance between them. Though she thought to offer a smile, May decided to look away instead. When she braved another look, he was still watching. This time she allowed a grin, and he did the same before hoisting a coil of rope on his broad shoulder and walking away.

  Indeed Mr. Austin was a puzzle. Oh, but he was going to be an interesting puzzle to solve in the brief time they had together, she decided as she swiveled on the crate to get a better look at her surroundings.

  In contrast to the hurry and chaos on the Canal Street docks, the Mississippi River flowed slowly downriver, lapping against the sides of the vessels with hardly a sound. Today the sun shone, but despite the brightness of the morning, the river remained deep brown.

  A few vessels slid by, each with sails trimmed and crew members hurrying about. What would it be like confined to a vessel of this size for months on end? It would certainly be nothing like her life back in New York.

  How was Mama faring there? The question came to mind as she spied an older woman on a passenger vessel as it sailed by. The gray-haired matron lifted a gloved hand to wave, and May returned the gesture. For all her faults, Mama was good company.

  And right now she ached for good company.

  After a few minutes, Mr. Austin returned to her side. “Feeling unwell?”

  “No,” she said as she turned back toward the wheel, where he had moved. “Just thinking.”

  “Ah, well, we’ve had a slight change in plans. What would you say to spending a few hours sailing?” He held up his hands as if to delay her response. “Two or three hours at the most, I promise, and I’ve already sent over to Tujague’s Restaurant for box lunches for the two of us, but I am willing to deliver you and your lunch back to your father’s home before I sail if that is your preference.”

  May hesitated only a moment. Though she had her trepidations as to whether the Vengeance was seaworthy, apparently Mr. Austin did not, or he’d not put himself in danger. Or at least she comforted herself with that thought as she said, “It sounds lovely.”

  “I don’t know if anyone has called any voyage this ship has taken lovely, but I’m glad you’ve decided to stay.”

  Two hours later, with the city of New Orleans long behind them, she and Mr. Austin had enjoyed the last bites of their box lunches at a table made from wooden crates. Thus far their discussion had consisted of Mr. Austin showing her around the vessel and then pointing out landmarks along the river as they sailed past.

  Now they had turned and were once again headed upriver to New Orleans. A companionable silence had fallen between them. May watched as the pillars of one massive riverside plantation home gave way to the spires and gardens of the next.

  “Must be a lovely place to live,” she mused. “Though I warrant there are enough mosquitoes and heat down here to ruin such a beautiful place.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “If you’re raised here, you barely notice the heat and mosquitoes.”

  May laughed. “I may not have been raised here, but I was born here and stayed long enough to know you are sadly mistaken.”

  Mr. Austin’s expression went pensive. “Other than your admiration for the River Road plantation homes, you don’t like Louisiana much, do you?”

  “That’s not true,” she protested. “I like Tujague’s. And you’re not as awful as I originally thought.”

  “Nor are you,” he said with a decidedly wicked grin. As he leaned back and stretched out his long legs. “As long as we are speaking of things we like, tell me about these three men who are contenders for your hand. Do you like them?”

  Unprepared for the question, she straightened her spine and pretended to consider her answer. In truth, she had no answer, at least no good one. When a question is not one that should have been posed, a lady will respond with an answer that should have been given.

  “They are likable men,” she said. “Each of them.”

  “Likable men,” Mr. Austin echoed. “So you are willing to spend the rest of your life married to a likable man?”

  “Given the alternative, yes.”

  “The alternative being that you lose your father’s fortune?”

  “Yes, although it does sound rather predatory when you put it that way.” She paused. “Just as you have your father to care for, so I have my mother. Given the sacrifices she has made for me during her life, I find it difficult not to make a similar sacrifice to bring her comfort in her final years.”

  “I see.” Mr. Austin looked away and then slowly returned his gaze to her. “Miss Bolen,” he said slowly, “these men, are they able to provide for you and your mother?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said.

  “You’re certain? And I should clarify that I am asking if any of these gentlemen have enough personal wealth to …” His voice faded, and his expression showed he was having difficulty completing the sentence.

  “You’re wondering if any of my potential grooms are rich enough to keep Mama and me comfortable in our current lifestyle?” At his nod, she continued. “Then the answer is yes.”

  “Even if theirs was the only income?”

  May’s breath caught. “But it will not be. Not if I marry one of them.” When Mr. Austin did not immediately reply, she tried again. “I was led to understand I must marry to keep my father’s money. Are you saying that even if I marry one of these men, I could lose it?”

  Sam was well and truly stuck for an answer. If he told her the truth, he would be betraying a confidence and breaking the rules. If he did not tell her, he was allowing Miss Bolen to believe she could solve her problem with a marriage that would only increase her troubles.

  “I am merely asking questions.” He retrieved the two sets of papers from his pocket. “Speaking of questions, let’s see what we have here. You did take particular care to answer these, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, most certainly,” she said, apparently accepting the diversion in their conversation. “You can see by the answers that I put deep thought into each of them, especially question seven.”

  “Question seven,” he echoed as he turned the page. “Here it is. Do you prefer beignets or calas? And you said—”

  “Neither since I cannot get either of these in New York City,” she supplied.

  “Oh, Miss Bolen, you are not playing fair.” He returned his attention to the page to scan the answers she’d given then looked back up at her. “Every response in some way relates back to New York City. Look at question fourteen. Where do you prefer to eat steak?”

  “And my response was Delmonico’s.”

  He shook his head though he had to laugh. “You did not take this seriously at all. So just expect that I will do the same when I attempt to respond to yours.”

  “Why wait?” she said as she snatched the second set of papers from his hand. “We’ve got time before we dock. Why not answer mine now?”

  “Fair enough,” he said as he tucked her answers into his pocket and prepared to be quizzed.

  “You are marooned on a desert island. What one thing will you bring with you?” She lifted her gaze fr
om the page and offered an expectant look. “Do take your time in answering.”

  “Don’t have to take my time,” he said. “I would bring a boat with me so I could leave that island anytime I wanted. Next question, please.”

  Miss Bolen looked as if she might protest then shrugged. “All right. Well, if you were to somehow be granted three wishes, what three things would you wish for?”

  “I only need one wish, and that would be for unlimited wishes.” He winked. “However, I am a generous man, so I would be happy to give you the other two.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You are not taking these seriously.”

  He shrugged. “Just because you do not like my answers, that does not mean I am not being serious. Ask another.”

  “All right,” she said as she returned her attention to the page. “Tell the truth or break the rules?”

  Sam’s heart thudded against his chest. “I, um, that is …”

  “It is a simple question, Mr. Austin. Tell the truth or break the rules?”

  “It is never that simple,” he snapped as he stood and walked away.

  The Bolen woman caught up to him as he reached the rail. He’d not been sure whether she was one of those persistent women, but now he had his answer.

  She touched his sleeve. When he looked down at her, she said, “It is that simple.”

  “If it’s that simple, then you answer the question, Miss Bolen. Which would you choose?”

  To her credit, May Bolen seemed to give considerable thought to the question. Finally she nodded. “I do concede perhaps this is not as simple as I claimed.” She swung her gaze up to meet his. “Do you believe in God, Mr. Austin?”

  “Of course I do,” he managed. “Are we answering questions with questions now?”

  “You just did,” she said with a grin. “But bear with me. When I have trouble with an answer, I ask myself what is right biblically. What would the Lord say if I asked Him?”

  “And?”

  “And I think He would say that the truth would set you free.” She paused to grip the rails, her attention now focused on the water lapping against the ship.

  “He did say that, actually,” Sam admitted.

  “So what is your answer?”

  He looked down at her and tried to voice the words he wanted to say. “My answer is I will have to think about my answer.”

  “I see,” she responded as she thrust the paper back in his direction. “Then perhaps you should think about the other answers, too, and we can discuss them another time.”

  He accepted the papers and returned them to his pocket. “You’re disappointed,” he said.

  “No, but I reserve the right to be disappointed another time,” she said. “For now I’m thinking you’re buying time in order to wrestle with your conscience some more. I’m just curious as to what the issue is you will be wrestling over.”

  “Ah, I see,” he said gently. “You know I cannot tell you that. It would break the rules.”

  She seemed to search his face for a moment and then began to giggle. He joined her laughter though he knew there would be a time very soon when she would not want to laugh with him.

  And that would be the day he told her the truth.

  “I very much am enjoying sailing with you, Mr. Austin. I have vague recollections of being aboard a vessel like this one. Perhaps when I was a child.”

  “My father had me aboard a ship before I could walk. You could say I grew up with first the river and then the ocean beneath me.” His attention drifted past her to a spot upriver. “Had our fathers not parted ways, you and I might have been raised very much the same. As it is, I don’t think any two people could be more different.”

  “I disagree,” she said.

  “Well, of course you would,” he responded. “And in disagreeing, you have proved my point. What do you do in New York, Miss Bolen?”

  She shook her head. “Are you trying to change the subject, Mr. Austin?”

  “I am not trying,” he said. “I have succeeded. So what fills your days?”

  “I don’t know. The usual things, I suppose. Charity events, balls, visiting, and of course, caring for my mother. What about you? What fills your days?”

  “This,” he said as he gestured around him. “We sail in a few weeks. I’ll have much to do to get ready, and then we will all stay busy making sure we arrive safely to all the ports of call on our itinerary.”

  “I see,” she said. Dare he assume she looked disappointed that he might be leaving soon? “And how long will you be gone?”

  “Twelve, maybe eighteen months.”

  “But that’s a whole year. Or longer.”

  “Very good, Miss Bolen. It is.”

  “But why so long?” Her eyes widened. “It doesn’t take nearly as long to sail to Europe. Are you taking the long way?”

  He chuckled. “No, but we are making a number of stops. In each port we will stay for however long we need and then move on. Eventually we will return.” He paused. “Why? Will you miss me?”

  “I would say I don’t even know you, but I assume you’ll be remedying that once you answer those questions.” She shook her head. “Still, how can you bear it?”

  “Bear what?”

  “Bear being away from those you love for so long?”

  Sam shrugged. “If I’m lucky, there are only two people who will miss me, and that’s my brother and my father. However, I think they’ll both manage just fine. And so will I.”

  Her brow furrowed. “You won’t leave until everything has been settled with the terms of the will, will you? It is imperative that you stay and see this through.”

  “I’ll stay just long enough to see you’re situated,” he said as a thought occurred. A solution to the worry in his gut at turning this soon-to-be penniless woman and her elderly mother over to a husband with sole control of the purse strings. “Miss Bolen, I have a question, and it is not on the list I gave you.”

  “Go ahead and ask,” she said, “but understand I may not answer.” Her pretty lips lifted in a smile. “Or I may find other questions to ask you. So ask at your peril.”

  “Duly noted.” Sam turned to face her. “Would you consider marriage to a man who had no intentions of living with you if it meant that you and your mother would gain permanent access to your father’s fortune with no possibility of it being taken away again?”

  Without pausing even for a second, May Bolen looked him in the eye and said, “Absolutely. In fact, it would be my preference.”

  “Then in that case, Miss Bolen,” he said as he moved closer. “Would you marry me?”

  Chapter Six

  Marry you?” May managed through her rising anger. “Do not tease me, Mr. Austin.”

  He leveled one of those pirate looks in her direction. “I assure you, Miss Bolen, I am completely serious.”

  She thought a moment. What would cause such a sudden change in this man? Then it came to her.

  “Oh, I see. You’ve been thinking about this and decided why allow another man to have the Bolen fortune when you can have it for yourself.” She clapped. “Well, bravo, sir. It’s a plan I would never have considered.”

  His expression tight, he looked away. “I suggest you consider it now.”

  “Well, at least you do not deny it,” she said on an exhale of breath. “I fear my other three options would not be so honest.”

  That admission caused him to turn back to her. “Honesty is one of the few things I can offer you, Miss Bolen.”

  A sweeping glance of the ship’s captain, and her decision seemed a bit easier. A life tied to this man was not what she had planned, but there were certainly worse options.

  Still, she did have her pride. “I will consider your offer, Mr. Austin. After I have received the answers to your questions, that is.”

  “Then consider this as well,” he said, his expression unreadable. “If we do marry, I want it to be understood that I will provide for my family. Bolen Shipping is yours by rights, an
d it will remain yours. So, if you think I am marrying you for your money, you are mistaken. I am marrying you because it is the right thing to do under the circumstances.”

  “I see. But you will benefit from a marriage to me,” she said. “I would not require my husband to live here on this ship. What is mine is yours.” May paused. “If we were to marry, that is.”

  “That is a generous offer,” he said, “but I will respectfully decline. You get my name and keep Bolen Shipping. I will not profit from Thomas Bolen’s will. Those are my terms.”

  “Then answer the questions honestly and we will take up this conversation at another time.”

  Later that afternoon as she sat beside him on the trip back to Chartres Street, she could think of nothing but what her answer must be. To distract herself, May studied her future husband, covertly of course, as open staring just was not done.

  He had workingman’s hands, strong and tanned from the sun, and he handled the reins expertly as he negotiated the narrow crowded streets. His features were pleasant, more than pleasant, actually, and when he smiled he looked much less fierce than he did now.

  From her observations, May had deduced several things. Samuel Austin was a good son and brother, and he was a great respecter of honesty. Her father had seen fit to give him more power than his own daughter in determining what would happen to Bolen Shipping and the Bolen heir, so apparently he had other redeeming qualities as well.

  Had the situation been different, she could easily imagine falling in love with such a man. “When do you set sail for the Orient?” she asked to chase the thought away.

  “Several weeks. My investors know I have responsibilities here that will keep me in port until they are handled.” He paused to give her a sideways look. “So unless you were hoping for a lengthy honeymoon at sea, you should plan for your husband to absent himself from New Orleans within a day or two of the wedding.”

  The idea of marrying a man who would never live under her roof had a certain appeal. Even so, a tiny slice of her heart broke at the thought that she would be forced into such an arrangement.

 

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