by C. K. Brooke
Em kept her gaze trained on her ankles.
“What color are his eyes again?”
“Blue,” replied Em sleepily. “Like the ocean.”
“Mmm, that’s right,” said the woman, now helping her into a cotton nightdress. “Too bad he’s not from around here. Hasn’t got a wife, has he? Any children?”
“No, Mama. He will return to New England alone with Mrs. Newbury.”
“I’m sure their mother will be glad to see them,” she clucked.
“I believe their mother is in heaven. The commander and his sister have only got each other.”
Em’s mother looked thoughtful as she brushed out her daughter’s wet hair.
“Mama, it’s all right,” she told her. “I can finish caring for myself for the night. Why don’t you retire? You put on a wonderful supper for us all today.”
The woman handed her the hairbrush, then leaned in and kissed her on the brow. “Goodnight, Emeline.” She smiled at her daughter.
Em held the brush to her breast, watching her go.
Chapter 20
Two days had passed. Two full days, and yet Em still hadn’t seen Commander Redding or his sister again. She almost wondered if the whole ordeal hadn’t been one lengthy dream, or some figment of a lonely farm girl’s imagination, when she heard voices outside her bedchamber window.
Em looked up from her place on the cot where she’d been lying on her stomach, taking inventory of her pressed flower collection and sketching new ideas for soaps on a used sheet of parcel paper. She stood, straightening the fall of her skirts, and squinted through the open window.
Her father was in the front of the yard by the gate, standing with the unmistakable form of Commander Redding. Em’s heart lolloped at the sight of him. Was he paying her a visit at last? Mr. Bonworthe stood among them as well, but neither Eliza nor Prudence was present.
Em strained to hear what they were saying, but their voices were subdued and didn’t carry. Not wanting to be spied eavesdropping, she ducked back into her muggy bedchamber and tried to return to her flowers and sketching. But she could no longer concentrate.
After several minutes, she heard her mother call up to her, “The men have been out there for quite some time. One wonders what they might be discussing?”
This prompted Em to try listening again. But when she peeked out her window, the men were already dispersing. She half-expected the commander to follow her father inside the house, for her parents to summon her downstairs so that she could say hello to him. To her great disappointment, however, the commander was leaving beside Mr. Bonworthe.
Em slowly sat back down on the edge of her cot. She heard the sound of her father reentering the house. She pictured him settling into his chair in the fireroom and elevating his leg, how he usually did.
She brushed the parcel paper and pencil aside, feeling glum. Commander Redding had been at her home. Why did he not linger for only a few minutes more to greet her? Why had he come only to speak to her father? Em was the one who’d spent a fortnight with him at sea, whose cabin she had shared, whose life she had saved. Had it truly meant naught to him? Whatever moments had transpired between them, however small or fleeting…had it only been her imagination? Why was he avoiding her?
Her mother served supper that evening, but Em only picked at her food.
“You’re wasting away,” her mother reprimanded her. “This is the third night you’ve barely eaten.”
“I’ll eat what she doesn’t finish,” Jackey volunteered.
The town was still in a fit over the death of Mr. Grady. The alleged pirates who’d murdered him had evaded capture and were long gone. Em held in a wicked grin, wondering where The Black Rose might be sailing by then, and if the frightful Captain Crawley had gained any peace, having exacted his revenge.
In the meantime, word had it that a nephew was to inherit Lawrence Grady’s plantation. Em thought of the expectant slave girl who was on the lam. Would she know that the father of her child and the threat he posed was gone?
The following morning found Em in the barn, milking the cows. They watched her work with big, soulful eyes, groaning quietly in the heat. Em swatted a fly away, and examined the contents of the bucket. “Good work, Gertrude.” She patted the creature on the side, just as Henrietta called, “Miz Emeline?”
Em got up, washed her hands quickly at the pump and found the slave outside the barn. “You got a visitor,” the woman informed her.
Em gave her an inquiring look, but Henrietta only bowed her head and indicated the front yard, by the gate.
Em recognized the man at once. She hitched up her skirts and sighed, “Finally,” breaking into a jog in his direction.
“Commander Redding,” she greeted him, slowing before him just at the gate. “You decided to pay me a visit!”
He grinned down at her, taking her hand, and held it between both of his. At once, Em remembered her parents. She feared their disapproval, should she be seen speaking to a man alone, out in the open that way.
He seemed to read her thoughts as she glanced back at the house. “Your parents granted their consent for me to speak with you this morning,” he said.
“Oh.” Em released his hands, and tucked a curtain of hair behind her ear. What for? She wanted to ask, but didn’t want to sound rude. Instead, she inquired, “How is your sister?”
“Eliza is well.” He nodded, drawing a small line in the dirt with his boot. “Er…she and I will be leaving tomorrow.”
Em felt her smile melt away. “Tomorrow?” she repeated in a small voice. “That’s awfully soon.”
“Isn’t it?” He laughed, somewhat nervously, and scratched the back of his neck.
“Well, I…hope you don’t forget about me.” She bravely raised her chin, preparing for the farewell she dreaded. There was something she longed to say. Should she say it? Or would she only embarrass herself?
He opened his mouth to reply, but Em was faster to open hers again. “Well, I don’t wish to hear whatever goodbye you’ve come to give me,” she decided.
He looked taken aback at first, but his eventual, playful grin nearly did her in. “No?”
“No, sir. And the man who stole my first kiss is not going to cut cords so cleanly with me, either.” There—she had mentioned it. Now he finally had to explain himself. There was nowhere for him to disappear, no duties to return to, no excuses.
“Ah. About that.” His cheeks reddened in a way that only made her more painfully fond of him. “Miss Winthrop, do forgive me. I was a fool. A fool, and I regret it.”
She felt kicked. “So you still regret it, do you?” she muttered, about to turn away, when he gripped her hand.
“No, you misunderstand.” Her gaze adhering to his, Em could only concede as he gently reeled her in, bringing her to face him again. They stood almost nose to nose. “I don’t regret kissing you, Miss Winthrop,” he murmured. “In fact, I’d do it again, if you allowed me.”
“Here?” Em trembled. “Now?”
His hand found its way up into her hair as he cupped the back of her head and tilted his face down to hers.
“Commander,” she insisted, stopping him.
“I had thought you belonged to another man,” he explained. “And I believed that, if anyone discovered my partnership with Crawley, your family would never permit you anywhere near a pirate’s accomplice. I thought we could never be. But…”
“But?” Em tried to connect the pieces in her mind, but she was too intoxicated by his proximity, the warmth of his arms that had found their way around her, the sweetness of his breath at her cheek.
“But I love you, Emeline Winthrop.”
Emeline was stunned when he kissed her, firm and focused and true. She held him, the farm around her spinning, until she closed her eyes and everything disappeared. All she knew was bliss.
Their lips parted. She gazed at him, foggy-headed, her heart dreaming. “And I love you, Mr. Redding,” she breathed.
His intim
ate grin made her tingle. “I spoke with your father.”
“What about?” she queried.
“About whether he mightn’t mind if I came to court you,” the man informed her. Em’s stomach gave a pleasurable dive. “But then,” he went on, “we agreed that might prove rather difficult, with us living so many states apart. For you, I would sail to Jamestown from New Haven and back every week…but that may be somewhat impractical.”
He held her closer. “And so, your father and I determined that if—and only if—you favor the proposal, then I shall marry you.”
Em’s breath caught.
His eyes, two deep pools, studied her. “Come, and live in New Haven with me. Be my bride.”
“Why, Mr. Redding…!” Her pulse danced, an elated yet coy grin snaking up her mouth. “Is that a command?”
A gust of laughter broke from his lips. “Oh, but Miss Winthrop, you should know by now.” He lifted her hand to his chest, holding it over his heart. “You, my darling, are the one in command.”
THE END
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Acknowledgments
Huge thanks to Limitless Publishing for bringing my pirate romances to life, and for introducing so many wonderful new Limitless sisters into my world–especially A.J. Norris and Marie Piper (with big shout-outs to Gaby Cabezut, J.D. Wright, and Jennifer Allis Provost for your support of Capturing the Captain)!
To Lori Whitwam, my editor, thank you for polishing my words to help them shine like Pieces of Eight.
Finally, to Jeff, my husband, your support of my writing “addiction” has carried me to places I never could've gone otherwise. Thank you!
About the Author
C.K. Brooke is an award-winning author of over a dozen romance and fantasy novels and novellas. Her debut novel, The Duchess Quest (48fourteen, 2014), was selected by Shelf Unbound Magazine as a Top 100 Notable Indie Book of 2015 and received five stars from Readers’ Favorite Book Reviews and Award Contest, and her fantasy romance, The Wrong Prince (48fourteen, 2016), also a five-star Readers' Favorite title, received Honorable Mention in the Global EBook Awards. In 2017, her self-published YA novel, Secrets of Artemis, was recognized with the Indie B.R.A.G. Medallion Award. Her first American Pirate Romance novel with Limitless Publishing, Capturing the Captain (2016), was a RONE Award Nominee. She lives in Washington, Michigan with her husband and son. Visit her and subscribe for a free eBook at: www.CKBrooke.com.
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