by Merry Farmer
Juliana looked at Oliver in surprise. In England one didn’t greet their servants with such fond revelry.
“Happy to meet you, Mrs.”
Juliana grappled to find her place. “Erm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister, err.”
“Just Smitty, Ma’am. That will do nicely. The other Mrs will be right glad to see you. She’s on a fair way to popping any moment.”
The color drained from Juliana’s face. “I beg your pardon?”
Oliver placed a hand over hers and helped Juliana into the coach.
“But he said,” Juliana protested when Oliver tried to shut her in.
“I will speak with Smitty, he’s getting on in years. Before you jump to any conclusions, good or bad, let me clear some things up first.”
Juliana sat back against the soft leather of the coach. America was so big. There seemed to be people bustling about everywhere. Suddenly she felt the burning desire to go back home. Sure, the ports of Dover were also loud and bustling, but they were familiar.
The familiar way these Americans interacted with her quite put her back up. It was perhaps another ten minutes before the carriage door was opened again and Oliver rejoined her.
“Who was that man speaking about? Was it Lillian?”
“You are trembling,” Oliver tsked, taking her hands into his own. “Come now, we can’t have that.”
“Just tell me, what was he talking about?”
“My twin Ryan and his wife Lillian are in residence at the mansion in New York. It would seem that there is some exciting news.”
A baby, Lillian was expecting a child. Juliana could hardly fathom the idea.
Juliana was stunned. “A baby? My sister is going to have a baby?”
Oliver nodded. “It does appear that way.”
“And what of Ian? Is he at the New York residence?”
Oliver let out a tired sigh and leaned back against the leather squabs. “He was needed at the factories in Philadelphia. I have sent word that we must speak with him. But I don’t know how long it will take to get him word or when he can return. It depends on the problem that took him out there.”
“Is that far?” she asked innocently.
He smothered a smile and she knew that he was amused with her question.
“It’s going to take a few days to get him the message at any rate. Come, let’s go see your sister and tell them the news of our nuptials.”
Juliana nodded, trying to calm the butterflies inside her stomach. As the carriage rocked back and forth through the streets, Juliana settled into her husband’s arms.
“What do you think of New York so far?” he asked as he drew lazy circles on the velvet of her traveling cloak.
“I find it very strange. I don’t know what I should have done without you here.” She looked up at him, “Thank you, Oliver, for being the hero that I didn’t know I needed.”
He held her close and captured her chin between his fingers. “You didn’t need a hero, Juliana. You are far braver than most men I know. To take on a task such as the one you did, well, I can only say that I am so thankful to you. I don’t know how Ian will react. But we will always love and care for the child. I don’t want you to worry on that head.”
She sighed. “I don’t know if I worry more that he will want her, or that he will, and I won’t be able to let her go.”
Oliver kissed her parted lips softly. “You will always be her aunt, and therefore in her life. I only wish that crossing the ocean didn’t take so terribly long. Now that I know about her, I am anxious to meet the child myself, and I know Ian will be.”
Juliana’s eyes seemed to remain focused on his lips. “She has been through so much in her short life. I don’t want her to forget her mother’s memory. Do you think this to be foolish?”
Oliver smiled tenderly and kissed her again. “Your loving heart does you credit. We will indeed let the child remember her mother. I think it would be best if she met her Aunt Lucy and Uncle Freddy as well. I know that Vivian wanted to keep her child a secret from her family. But I have found that holding one’s feelings in never gives one the result they want.”
Juliana beamed at Oliver. “I am so glad you feel this way. I worried that you might not want Lady Reeder to know because of the light it shines on Ian and Vivian’s relationship. You continually amaze me, and I adore you.”
His eyes darkened as he pulled her closer and whispered, “And I love you with every breath in my body. Never doubt it, my love.”
As Juliana pulled his head back down to kiss him again, she let her fears and anxieties go. She wasn’t sure when they would finally be able to give Ian the note from Vivian. Nor did she know how her sister would react to finding that Juliana was in America. But what she did know was that regardless of what they faced. They would do it together. Juliana and her runaway duke would never be parted again.
Epilogue
Ian felt a huge sense of relief as he finished up the last of his business at the factory in Philadelphia. This task was to the final one before he bid his brother Ryan and new sister in law Lillian goodbye and sailed for England.
He had run from his past long enough. Or perhaps it would be fairer to say he had run from the one woman in his past that had managed to creep under his skin and more importantly into his heart.
There was no point denying things, Ian knew it. He was in love with Vivian Browning. Their short affair had plagued his mind for two years now. It was almost as if he had a driving force that was pulling him back to her side.
With a handshake to his foreman, he took the reins of his horse and mounted. Ian had always felt a special kinship with animals and horses especially.
A frown dampened his enthusiasm when he remembered the one time, he had taken Vivian into the barn to hide during a game. She had severe breathing difficulty and Ian had feared the worse.
He shook his head, trying to erase the bad memory. He had dallied long enough worrying about how she would fit into his life. It was high time that he put aside his selfish pursuits. Horses were a hobby, but Vivian, she was… Well, she was something altogether wonderful and far more important to him.
Just as Ian went to spur the horse, a special messenger came barreling up to him. The horse was nearly run to ground. For a split-second Ian wanted to chastise the messenger. Then another thought replaced the first. Lillian had been expecting her first child. Had something happened?
Fear gripped him and he didn’t speak when the man handed him missive. The seal was none other than the Duke of Bilkshore, his eldest brother. Whatever could Oliver want with him? Furthermore, was Oliver back in America?
A second letter fell out of the first when he enfolded it. Ian barely grasped it before it could fall to the ground. He recognized Vivian’s looping script immediately. He snatched up her letter and read it hungrily like a starving man at his first meal. But as the words penetrated his mind, Ian began to spiral down, down, into the recesses of hopelessness and despair.
When he finished her letter, he hardly had the strength to read what his brother had written. His entire world had just been ripped out from underneath him. Oliver’s words confirmed it, Vivian was gone.
People around him were speaking but it was as if he were enveloped in a cloud of grief, cancelling out everything but the roaring of his blood and the tearing of his heart. Why had he ever left her? She would never know how much she meant to him. When Ian thought about what she must have gone through having a child on her own he wanted to rip out his hair or weep until there was nothing left.
Without a word, he spurred his horse and rode hell for leather to New York. He had a child, a daughter. Ian had never really wanted children, and yet knowing that she existed softened the blow, even if it was only of the smallest amount. Ian swallowed hard. Their child was the only piece of Vivian left in this world—Amelia. He wouldn’t fail her like he had Vivian.
As the wind whipped around him, Ian knew that nothing would ever be the same again. After all, how
does one continue on when their heart is ripped from their chest? No, nothing would ever be the same.
About S. Cinders
S. Cinders is an award-winning author who loves writing and cheesecake. She lives in the Midwest with her husband of twenty-four years and her two nearly grown sons.
Known as ‘the naughty romance author’, you’ll love her witty banter and engaging characters. Once you start, you won't want to stop!
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Rescued by Passion
by Sky Purington
Prologue
New Providence Island, The Bahamas,
off the coast of Nassau
1717
“Wake up, Hannah.” Rose shook her sister. “Something is not right.”
“I agree,” Hannah mumbled, pulling the blanket over her head. “You trying to wake me when I spent half the night helping you through seasickness. Go back to bed.”
Truth be told, she had been helpful, holding back Rose’s hair during the worst of it. Typically, she did not suffer like that, but the storm had tossed the ship about something fierce.
Rose peered out the porthole, convinced something was wrong. “I see land, but the captain said we would not see such for several more days.”
“Just a mirage, darling,” Hannah assured. “Now get some rest.”
“It is not a mirage.” She frowned at her sister, wondering how she could be so calm considering the dangerous waters on which they traveled. “There is most certainly land on our starboard side.”
“Perhaps the storm sped us up, and we arrived at our destination sooner than expected,” Hannah said on a yawn. She peeked her head out and squinted against the light. “If we were off course, the captain would tell us.”
“Would he though?” There was never a more chauvinistic man. “I cannot imagine him confessing to mere women that the storm might have thrown us off course.” She shook her head. “He is far too arrogant.”
“And you are far too chatty,” Hannah muttered, “considering how quiet you have been since we disembarked Yorktown.”
As a rule, she was always quiet, preferring observation to communication. Hannah, on the other hand, tended to have an opinion about everything. Viewpoints she rarely hesitated to share no matter the company.
“I see another ship.” Rose narrowed in on the horizon. “Three!”
“They are likely just—”
“Pirates!” She stumbled back from the porthole, wide-eyed. Her heart slammed into her throat.
“Surely not.” Anyone in their right mind would have leapt from their bunk in panic, but Hannah calmly sat up and smoothed her blanket back. “The captain assured us we would not come across such miscreants.”
“But we have.” Rose trembled in fear and wrung her hands. “Those are pirate ships flying pirate flags.”
“Even if they are,” Hannah said, “we have British soldiers aboard.” She perked a brow at Rose. “Highly trained soldiers at that.”
Her sister was trying to calm her, but it did no good. From the moment she learned they were traveling south, she had a feeling something would go horribly wrong. Almost a sixth sense.
Or one too many books about pirates.
Hannah was about to speak when yelling ensued on deck.
Finally taking Rose seriously, Hannah peered out the porthole then pulled back abruptly and nodded once. “It seems you are right, Sister.” Though she audibly swallowed, she remained calm. “Get dressed now.”
“But—”
“Now, Rose,” she said sharply.
Accustomed to taking her older sister's lead, but rather mindless with fear, she could hardly focus on where to begin. Should she bother with stays? Or just get into her dress as fast as possible?
“Do not even think it,” Hannah said sternly, helping her with said stays when Rose reached for her dress. “A lady always dresses appropriately.”
“B-but those are pirates!”
“All the more reason to cut a fine figure.” She issued Rose a pointed look. “Just imagine if things were less confined.” She looked skyward, appalled. “It would be downright indecent.”
“I doubt pirates care much about decency.” Rose shook her head, her imagination running away with her. “We are doomed, dear sister.” She rounded her eyes at Hannah. “Do you know what they do to women of our ilk?”
“I care not to think about it.” Yet Hannah's cheeks flushed as she finished lacing up Rose. “Continue dressing then lace me up.”
“I should help you now—”
“Just do as I ask.”
So she did, and then helped Hannah. In the meantime, sounds of battling grew louder. Far closer. On this ship, if she were not mistaken. Boots pounded above them. Men roared, metal clashed, and guns fired.
“It will be all right, dearest.” Hannah squeezed Rose’s trembling hands and met her eyes, using the sisterly voice that typically calmed her. “We have little time so you must listen to me.”
She nodded, trying not to envision the worst. Yet the screams of pain aboveboard did not help.
“You must not let your imagination run away with you unless you intend to put it to good use.” Hannah searched her eyes, practical to a fault. “You must conquer your fear and do what you do best. Observe your surroundings at all times. Pay attention to everything so that you might find your way out of wherever you end up.” Her brows arched. “Become a character in one of those books you so love if need be.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you will need courage.” Hannah remained blunt. “And that is not always easy to come by.”
“But you just said we have plenty of soldiers.”
“We do not,” her sister barely got out before the cabin door crashed open and her worst nightmare leered at them from the threshold.
Unable to breathe, let alone scream, she suddenly knew what she needed to become.
A persona she prayed might save her from Hell.
Chapter 1
“It is good to be on dry land again, Brother.” Thomas clapped Luke on his shoulder and eyed the brothel, playing the role they had discussed earlier. A role that made sense. “I am too long without a woman.”
They had just arrived on the sandy shores of Nassau with a very specific mission.
One that would change everything from this day forward.
Luke nodded in agreement and yanked a wench against him in passing. He kissed her hard, murmured something in her ear then set her aside. “She and her sister will see us taken care of when we are ready.”
“Sister?” Thomas snorted, praying his brother remained vague. He skirted far too close to why they were here. “How convenient.”
Luke winked. “It’s good to live the fantasy on occasion.”
Though he said it nonchalantly, Thomas knew Luke enjoyed that fantasy above all. Not the taking of both sisters, but the one.
“I wonder how they fare,” he had murmured earlier, remembering the sisters from their youth. The very ones they were here to rescue now.
“Married off,” Luke had reminded, treading carefully around the sore subject. Because in truth, neither were married anymore. “Hard to imagine mine making anyone a good bride, though. She would require too much taming…and patience.”
With their fetching beauty, the McCullen sisters had turned many a head. One was haughty, the other withdrawn and sweet. Naturally, the haughty one appealed to Luke’s inherent need to conquer every woman he met. Mainly because he had never managed to conquer her.
The scent of brine and sea salt turned to the pungent smell of sweat, sex, and heady perfumes as they entered town. Grunts of pleasure mixed with boisterous drinking. Wenches with painted faces and ample cleavage leaned agai
nst buildings reeling in their next customer where others were already servicing blokes.
“They are here,” Thomas’s quartermaster, Charles said softly, falling in alongside them. He spoke louder for the benefit of their fellow pirates. Best that no one be suspicious. “There be biddin’ happenin’ soon in the center square.” He flashed crooked teeth in a lecherous smile. “Blackbeard got himself a good take just out past the breakers.”
Formerly known as Edward Teach, Blackbeard was not only infamous for his fearsome exploits but magistrate in these parts. That meant he was in command of Nassau’s republic, enforcing law and order as he saw fit.
“He’s selling off some loot then?” Thomas acted surprised. In this neck of the Caribbean, they lived by the pirate code. They ran their ships democratically, sharing plunder equally. So why was Blackbeard selling something?
“Not loot but a single woman.” Charles rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “A real looker I hear.”
Thomas tensed. Which woman? Who was being put on display in front of this lot? Worse yet, was she still dressed?
“Why is he selling her?” Luke frowned. “Usually, wenches end up in the brothel.”
“Seems one of ‘em did.” Charles tapped his temple. “The other ain’t so bright. Deaf, dumb and mute they say.” He shrugged. “So he’s seein’ what he can get for her.” He shook his head. “They didn’t even have a chaperone so the crew might’ve already had a run at ‘em.”
“Bloody hell, let’s hope not.” Thomas refused to entertain the idea. He would never be able to forgive himself. “Better to have ‘em fresh.”
That damn uncle of theirs, leaving them unchaperoned. Yet it was not surprising in the least. Without a shred of decency, the man was a louse. That said, however, it was safe to say if the crew had wanted the women, a chaperone would not have stopped them. Which was neither here nor there considering there were crew members aboard protecting them until they were safely delivered into Blackbeard’s hands.