Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set

by Lacy Williams

  “Y-y-yes, my lord.” The man touched his forelock, bowed his head, and scurried away like a young boy caught stealing a pie.

  Even more quickly than Arthur expected, a silhouette he surmised was the master of the ship came across the deck, pulling on his salt-stained jacket. He was of average height, but his cool gaze sizing up Arthur warned he was of more than average intelligence. A man to be reckoned with.

  Lord, I ask You to put the right words on my lips as I stand here before a man who has no reason to help me. Help me save Maris from whatever is happening here.

  “I am Captain Evans, my lord,” the man said. “How may I assist you in the short time before we must sail?”

  Arthur did his best to hide his distaste with how Evans managed to mix obsequiousness and arrogance in the same sentence. Now was not the time to start a quarrel.

  “Do you have passengers on this ship?” He allowed condescension to seep into his voice, suggesting he considered it a poor excuse for a vessel.

  “Not exactly paying passengers, but we do have people aboard.”

  “Send one of your men to find Miss Maris Oliver, whom I believe is among them.”

  Evans looked everywhere but at him. Arthur doubted he had ever seen a guiltier face, but he waited for the man to speak. “Miss Maris Oliver?” The captain scratched his chin. “I don’t recall such a name, my lord, among my passengers.”

  “Try harder.”

  “My lord, I must ask you to go ashore. We will be sailing—”

  “Are you certain of that?”

  Evans’s eyes narrowed, but whatever he had been about to snarl at Arthur went unsaid as shouts came from the dock. The captain looked past him. His face paled, but he gamely retorted, “What happens among those on shore has nothing to do with us. We will be sailing—”

  “After he allows it.” Arthur hooked a thumb over his shoulder as the harbormaster strode toward the ship. “I understand he has received word all may not be as stated on your customs forms. The government frowns on improperly filled out forms, especially in a time of war, when it has many expenses.”

  The captain gulped, and the sailors who had gathered around to listen shifted nervously. “An inspection could take days.”

  “While you must feed your passengers and lose time on your voyage.” Arthur folded his arms in front of him. “Think hard, Captain, before you answer my next question. Do you have Miss Maris Oliver aboard this ship?”

  *

  A lock rattled, and Maris looked to the right. A small light seemed as bright as the sun. The glow seemed to explode through the hold as the door opened and a man carrying a lantern entered.

  She raised her arm to protect her eyes, but dropped it when she heard a voice call, “Maris! Are you here?”

  Jumping to her feet, she cried, “Arthur!” She blinked, desperate to see him through the glare.

  Hands stretched out to grasp her by the waist. Instant recognition raced through her. Arthur’s hands! She let them bring her to where he stood with two men. Leaning on his strength, she let him guide her out of the hold. He pulled her to him. Not caring that many eyes were on them, she returned his kiss with all the love in her heart. She prayed everything she found difficult to say was conveyed in that kiss.

  His fingers framed her face as he raised his head. A soft smile curved his lips.

  “You came,” she breathed as she drank in the sight of him, windblown and filthy from the ride across Cornwall.

  “Bertie got your message and brought it to me.”

  “God bless that child.”

  “Yes, God bless him, as Bertie has blessed us tonight.”

  At his words, Maris turned to look into the hold. She called to the woman who had had her own child abducted. “What is your daughter’s name?”

  “Fawna,” she shouted. “Because she is my little dear.”

  “I promise I will make sure she is taken care of and never forgets how her mother loves her.”

  “Thank you, miss.” The woman’s sobs burst through the shadows again.

  The door closed, locking the women inside until the ship was too far out at sea for them to escape. As Arthur hurried Maris up from the bowels of the ship, she heard voices behind other locked doors and realized there were scores of people being transported. She thought about the woman who was grateful for another chance at life, and she prayed the journey to Van Diemen’s Land would be easy.

  Her steps were unsteady even after they reached the deck. When she stumbled as her toe caught on a warped board, Arthur lifted her into his arms. She rested her head on his strong shoulder, thrilled to be this near to him. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent, masculine and intoxicating.

  The sound of vile curses opened Maris’s eyes. She stared, speechless, at Lord Litchfield on his belly on the dock, a ragged man’s boot against his spine. Other rough-looking men encircled the two.

  Arthur set her on her feet and asked if she could stand. She nodded, unable to utter a single word. He walked to a man who wore a shirt half falling out of his breeches, after being routed from bed. In amazement, she listened to Arthur ask the harbormaster to take Lord Litchfield into custody.

  “But he is a peer, my lord,” argued the man, glancing at Lord Litchfield.

  “I will alert the necessary authorities, and they will come to retrieve him so he can be brought before the House of Lords on charges of kidnapping and whatever else is deemed appropriate.” When the harbormaster began to protest again, Arthur said, “Miss Oliver has endured a terrible trauma. I could not bear it if she has to be in her abductor’s company any longer.” He flashed her a smile.

  Maris’s lips twitched in return. She had doubted she would ever smile again, but Arthur’s gentle teasing eased the pain of her invisible wounds. The bruises that ached along her skull and ribs would heal more slowly.

  When the harbormaster agreed at last, Arthur ordered the men surrounding Lord Litchfield to take him to where he could be locked up. Lord Litchfield cursed as he was jerked to his feet.

  Arthur walked over to him, and in a quiet voice chilling in its intensity, said, “Be grateful, Litchfield, that I am a forgiving man. Don’t think I was not tempted to have you take Maris’s place on that ship. It is better your crimes are made public so you cannot try something diabolical again.”

  “She lies!” Lord Litchfield screamed. “Don’t believe a word she says. She was kicked out of Bellemore’s house because of her lies.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because it is the truth. Go ahead, Trelawney. Ask her! Ask her how she was sent away in disgrace.”

  Maris clasped her hands over her mouth to silence her moan.

  Arthur turned to her. “He is lying, isn’t he?”

  Her tears blurred Arthur’s beloved face and the triumph on Lord Litchfield’s, but she said, “Not about that, he isn’t. Lord Bellemore did send me away. I will not be false about that any longer. Nor will I be silent about Lord Litchfield’s attempt to rape me and then blame me for the crime. He persuaded Lord Bellemore to believe his lies, which drove me away from the only home I had. For a while, even I began to believe it was my fault he attacked me.”

  Arthur stepped slowly toward her as Lord Litchfield was dragged away. “You know you are not at fault, don’t you? If someone treated my sisters so coarsely, I would never rest until justice was done. But you were alone, weren’t you?”

  “I thought I was, but then I heard your brother’s lesson. ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.’ I was never alone.” She took a deep breath to go on.

  He spoke first. “Before you say anything else, you should know Lady Belinda came to me tonight to ask my help in persuading you to accept her apology for the wrongs she has done you. Her regret seemed sincere.”

  “She did?” The tears refused to remain in her eyes any longer. If she returned to Mr. Miller’s house, she would find
Belinda and let her know she wanted to offer the forgiveness she had denied both of them. “I know you despise liars, Arthur, and I have been one.”

  “None of us is perfect. Everyone tells a fib now and then.”

  “Not a fib. A lie.” She glanced toward the ornate carriage, which must have cost Lord Litchfield dear. “I am not who I claimed to be.”

  “You are not Maris Oliver?” In the lantern light, surprise raised his brows.

  “My name is Maris Oliver, but I am not an experienced nurse. The recommendation I brought to Cothaire was a fake. I wrote it myself.”

  “Because you had nowhere else to go?”

  “Yes. I have always loved children, and I heard of the need for a nurse at Cothaire. If you would like me to leave, my lord, I will.”

  “Don’t leave,” he whispered as he brought her into his arms, his mouth on hers. She gave herself to this kiss that must be the final one they shared. The thought severed her heart anew, and she pulled herself out of his arms. She did not belong there. She averted her eyes.

  He tipped her chin up with a single finger. “Maris, one thing I have learned is you cannot hide your thoughts, especially when you are upset. Let me put you at ease on one matter. Gwendolyn is marrying someone else.”

  “Someone else? But I thought… The letters you wrote and the promise you made to your father. What of those?”

  “I will explain about the letters when there are fewer people present, but trust me when I say they were never love letters. Father will understand, because how could Gwendolyn marry me when she loves someone else?”

  “I don’t know.” She tried to look away.

  He turned her face to him. “If you don’t know that answer, maybe you will know this one. How can I marry her when I love someone else? Someone my father will approve of because, even though she is not of the ton, she has every quality and skill to be a future earl’s wife. More important, my dearest Maris, I hope you love me as I love you.”

  Sure her mouth was gaping like a fish washed upon the sand, she whispered, “You love me? You really do?”

  Chuckling, he said, “Maybe I should answer that question as you asked it. Saying ‘I do’ would be good practice. For both you and me.”

  She smiled as she realized what he was saying with his teasing.

  “Gwendolyn and I,” he went on, serious again, “know we would be doing our families and each other a great disservice if we wed. We share the affinity of childhood companions. Nothing more. She has asked me to attend her wedding. I would like her to attend ours, if you are comfortable with that.”

  “Of course.” Happiness that eclipsed any she had ever known welled up in her as she put her arms around him. “I love you, too, Arthur. With every inch of my being.”

  The kiss he gave her was an invitation to even more joy. Leaning his forehead against hers, he asked, “Will you marry me, Maris?”

  “Yes!”

  He swung her around as he shouted in delight. Her head spun as he set her on her feet. Offering his hand, he laced his fingers with hers and said, “It is time to return to Miller’s house and share the glorious tidings. I know one little boy who will be especially happy with the news.”

  “Let’s go,” she said and followed him off the dock and toward the life they would have together.

  Epilogue

  “What are you doing here?” Maris heard Arthur’s question from behind her.

  Before she turned from the bed, Maris pulled up the covers Bertie had kicked off. She put her finger to her lips and gave Arthur a feigned frown. When he put his hands up in a pose of surrender, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she went with him down the stairs to the empty day nursery.

  When they stepped into the light from the lone lamp, she watched him shrug off his soaked greatcoat. He tossed it on the window bench.

  “Did the delivery go well?” she asked. Since Arthur had told her about his secret life as a government courier and how the letters from the new Mrs. Otis Miller were instructions, Maris had tried not to worry about the danger he faced each time he took a message to where the next courier could retrieve it.

  “Excellent.” He yawned. “But why are you up here?”

  “Irene needs my help. She is learning quickly, but seems overwhelmed by the boys at times.”

  “She is on her own after tomorrow.”

  With a laugh, Maris gave a playful shove on his chest. “It is nearly midnight. The groom should not see his bride on their wedding day before they meet at the altar.”

  He gave her the boyish grin that always reminded her of Bertie’s before he got into trouble. She wanted to sink into Arthur’s arms and praise God for the blessings He had brought both of them.

  Her uncertainty about how Arthur’s family would feel about him marrying the woman who had served as Cothaire’s nurse had faded as one Trelawney after another welcomed her into the family. The earl was especially effusive, and when she saw his twinkling eyes, she wondered if he had known before she had that his son was falling in love with her. Or it might be, as Arthur told her, that his father was thrilled with a wedding before Christmas and the chance of his heir’s heir bouncing on his knee by next Christmas. Either way, the earl and the rest of his family were making her transition from nurse to the heir’s wife easy.

  “Give me a kiss then, sweetheart,” Arthur said, “and I will be gone like Cinderella before the clock strikes twelve.”

  With a laugh, she slipped into his arms. The place, at last, where she truly belonged.

  *

  Dear Reader,

  Thanks for coming back to spend some time in Cornwall. The village of Porthlowen is a hybrid of St. Ives, a charming resort village with sandy beaches (remember the nursery rhyme about the man with seven wives?), and Boscastle with its astounding cliffs that protect the village from the sea. I couldn’t resist letting the characters pay a call to Penzance on its southern bay with views of the medieval monastery St. Michael’s Mount, which later became a country estate. Creating a story in such a splendid setting with a delightful history was fun. I hope you had just as much fun reading about the adventures shared by Arthur and Maris and the children. And I hope you will look for Her Longed-For Family, the next book in the Matchmaking Babies miniseries, which will be out in December. The answers to why six babies were put in a boat and who put them there will be answered.

  As always, feel free to contact me by stopping in at www.joannbrownbooks.com.

  Wishing you many blessings,

  Jo Ann Brown

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.

  You find illumination in days gone by. Love Inspired Historical stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.

  Enjoy four new stories from Love Inspired Historical every month!

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  ISBN-13: 9781460388969

  Family in the Making

  Copyright © 2015 by Jo Ann Ferguson

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents ar
e either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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