Someone to Wed

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Someone to Wed Page 19

by Cheryl Holt


  He’d assumed he was smarter and braver than she was. Was he? If she could cast off the fetters that had bound them in the past, why couldn’t he?

  “You’re mad,” he said, but kindly. “You know that, right?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  He lifted her off her knee and sat her on the chair opposite. Then he shifted his own chair so he was facing her.

  “How would you expect this to unfold?” he asked. “You seem to have the matter all planned out. Would we remain at Ralston Place? Would you move in with us? Could you be content in this small house and in our small life?”

  “Yes, we’d remain at Ralston, and I’d move in with you. And yes, I’d be very content with that ending.”

  “What if you ultimately determined you didn’t like my sons or being a mother? What if you started to hate that you’d wedged yourself into my family?”

  “What if humans could sprout wings and fly like birds?” She tsked with offense. “You worry about the silliest things. You always have.”

  “Your brother might have a fit, and we’d be back where we were with your mother. He’d kick you out, and he’d fire me. I have my boys to consider, so I can’t risk that happening.”

  “Jacob isn’t my mother.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “In the beginning, he might be a tad disconcerted, but he likes you. We’ll drag him ‘round to our way of thinking.”

  “It’s impossible for me to tell you no.”

  “You shouldn’t tell me that.” She grabbed his hand and linked their fingers. “It will be fine, Sandy. It will be perfect. Don’t fret so much.”

  “One of us should.”

  “What is our other option? Will we fritter away the years, avoiding each other and pretending we’ve never been in love? We’d drive each other insane.”

  “You’re probably correct.”

  She was so confident, and he foolishly yearned to provide her with whatever she sought. She was his weakness. Why couldn’t he glom onto her optimism? Why must he be so pessimistic?

  He knew the answer to that: He’d learned through bitter experience that catastrophe could strike without warning. She’d been shielded from a lot of anguish by her family’s money and position. At his level, calamity hit with a vengeance and there was no money or power to cushion the impact.

  “You’re so positive this could work,” he said.

  “Yes, I am, and I need you to be too.”

  He pondered forever, then he blew out a heavy breath. “I will agree to it on two conditions.”

  “What are they?”

  “First, you have to swear you’ll never suffer any regrets. You have to swear it and mean it.”

  She scoffed with derision. “As if I could ever regret being your wife. I’ve wanted it since I was twelve! Don’t talk as if I’m fickle.”

  “It’s simply that I’m afraid it won’t turn out as you’re hoping. My world is just this house, my job, and my sons. We’d have to live on my salary, so if you grew bored, there would be no jaunts to London or trips to the seashore to enliven your mood.”

  She laughed. “I don’t have a penny to my name, so I can’t whine about how little you have as opposed to me. I have the clothes on my back and that’s it. I don’t even have dishes or linens to bring to the union. I had to leave all of it in Egypt because I couldn’t afford to lug it home, so I must point out that you are the one assuming the burdens. You’ll be saving me, and I’ll always be grateful.”

  “You can’t ever forget how you feel at this moment. Once reality settles in, you can’t wish our life could be different. What I offer is all there is with me.”

  “I won’t ever regret. I swear. What is the second thing?”

  “I have to ask your brother for your hand. Unless and until I have his permission to wed you, I couldn’t proceed.”

  “He’ll give us his blessing. I promise.”

  “I will keep my fingers crossed.”

  She smiled a sly smile. “So . . . can we declare ourselves to be engaged?”

  “Yes, I think we can view it as being official.”

  She slid over and snuggled onto his lap. She kissed him sweetly, then, as she pulled away, she was smirking. “I was certain I could convince you. I had no doubt.”

  He sighed, praying it would be all right in the end. “I never could resist you. I told you that you can’t ever regret this, but don’t ever make me regret it either.”

  “I shall be the best wife ever, and you will be happy all your days. Now wipe that frown off your face and open the bloody champagne!”

  Mutt had been dozing by the fire, when suddenly, he leapt up and gave a soft woof, the one he used for friends.

  Joanna was relishing a quiet moment before she called it a night. Clara was already asleep, so Joanna was alone in the parlor. It was just after ten, so it wasn’t exactly late, but it was late enough that no one should be walking through her front gate.

  “Is it Captain Ralston?”

  From the frantic wagging of his tail, she had to think it was, and she raced over and opened the door without peeking out first.

  “What are you doing on my stoop?” she asked him. “You’re not scheduled to return from London for several days. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  They froze and stared, a thousand delicious sentiments sizzling, then they moved at the same instant, practically falling into each other’s arms. He kissed her as if he’d been gone for years, as if he’d been drowning and she’d thrown him a rope.

  He drew away, and without another word exchanged, he clasped her wrist and marched her up the stairs. She didn’t protest or drag her feet. It was occurring so fast that her mind couldn’t catch up with her body.

  Her body was delighted to follow wherever he led. But her mind was shouting warnings—to remember herself, to slow down—but she didn’t really want to slow down. She might have been hovering up above, watching as some other woman behaved precisely as she shouldn’t.

  It was a small house, and there were only two bedrooms. He glanced in the one on the right, saw Clara, and pulled her door shut. Then he went into the other one, and she went with him. She closed the door.

  There was no key though, so she couldn’t lock them in. She didn’t imagine Clara would wake up and interrupt, but what if it happened?

  Joanna would never be able to explain his presence.

  He proceeded to the bed and flopped down onto the mattress. He tugged her down with him and rolled them so he was stretched out atop her. She’d never lain with a man before, so it was a heady, dangerous experience. She was being pummeled by sensations, all of them thrilling and hazardous to her equilibrium.

  He kissed her forever, his fingers in her hair, his palms roaming over her torso. Occasionally, he caressed her breasts, and it produced such giddy joy that she was surprised she didn’t expire from happiness.

  She was still wearing her clothes, and he hadn’t so much as shed his coat, so they were both covered from chins to toes, yet they might have been naked. The sparks they ignited were that potent.

  Down below, she could feel his hardened phallus, and it indicated his lust was running hot. He was eager to mate with her. His hips were working with her own in a perfect rhythm that was like nothing else in the world. The ecstasy was overwhelming, and her resolve was slipping.

  What if he pressed the issue a bit farther? Would she succumb?

  She was terribly afraid she might.

  Ultimately, he eased away, and he smiled down at her with such affection that it disturbed her. What was she supposed to do with that smile? How had she lived without it in the past? How would she live without it in the future, after he tired of her?

  He started to chuckle, and she joined in.

  “You’ve driven me mad, Joanna James,” he said. �
��You realize that, don’t you?”

  “I have no idea why you’d accuse me. In my view of our relationship, I’ve scarcely encouraged you. I can’t fathom what’s fueling this desire.”

  He slid onto his back, and she was draped over his chest, her ear directly over his heart.

  “Please assure me that Clara sleeps like a rock,” he said.

  “She does, but I have no key for my door. If she waltzes in, she’ll catch us.”

  “I can’t apologize for this. Even if we’re caught, I won’t be sorry.”

  He sighed with contentment, and she nestled with him, listening as his breathing slowed.

  “Why are you home so early?” she asked.

  “I missed you too much to stay in town. Can you believe it?” He laughed as if the admission was embarrassing. “I attended the theater with some friends, and after the play ended, they rushed off to carouse and gamble. They urged me to accompany them, but for once, that sort of revelry held no appeal whatsoever.”

  “Maybe you’re finally growing up.”

  “That’s one excuse, but the pathetic fact is that I wanted to be here with you, and I couldn’t figure out why I was there with them instead. It seemed as if I was mixed up about what mattered.”

  “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Did you miss me too?” he asked.

  “I’ve been absolutely bereft without you.”

  She peeked up at him, grinning, and he scoffed. “You liar. You might have missed me just a tad, but I simply can’t picture you devastated over any situation.”

  Her grinned widened. “You might be correct.”

  He snuggled her down, and she closed her eyes and catalogued every detail so she’d never forget any of them. She couldn’t predict how many times she’d be with him like this, and she had to consider that each meeting might be the last one.

  He could become bored with their dalliance, or fixated on another lucky girl, or be recalled to the navy without notice. She had to cherish each moment they could manage to sneak off together.

  “What have you been doing while I was away?” he asked. “Describe every single minute.”

  “My days are all the same, so there’s very little to tell. I brewed potions and delivered them. I walked Clara to and from school. I tended my garden and toiled away in my workroom. Has my tedious recitation put you to sleep?”

  “No. How is my sister?”

  At the question, she scowled. “Haven’t you been home yet?”

  “No. I stopped here first. I was that excited to see you.”

  “You rat. You can’t behave like this. What if you were observed riding by, but you never arrived at the manor? They’d sound an alarm.”

  “I’ll go in a bit. I passed by your cottage on the way. You can’t wish I’d have trotted on by.”

  “I’m extremely delighted, you bounder. There! You’ve forced me to admit it.” She popped up again and said, “Tell me what you did in town. I’m sure your activities were much more interesting than mine.”

  “Well, I visited my half-brother, Caleb. We had a cordial discussion, and I invited him to Ralston Place. I think he agreed to come, but I’m not certain.”

  She smiled. “I’m so relieved that you talked to him. I was afraid you might change your mind.”

  “He and I have been acquainted for years, but out of respect for my mother, I didn’t feel I could befriend him. He and I are the same age, and we have the navy as a common bond. We even look alike, although he has my father’s blond hair and mine is black. It’s the only genuine difference between us.”

  “You are siblings after all. I’m not surprised that you’d be similar.”

  “Can I share a secret about him and me? Actually, it’s about our father, Miles.”

  She’d love to have him speak about his father, and she said, “Of course you can share a secret.”

  “You likely won’t believe it, but he was a bigamist.”

  “What?”

  She pulled away and sat up. He remained relaxed on the pillow.

  “We buried that scurrilous truth,” he said. “When there are whispers about me having half-siblings, it’s assumed they’re my father’s natural sons, but he married their mother—when he was married to mine.”

  Her jaw dropped with astonishment. “I had no idea!”

  “The navy hushed it up. My father was such a notorious person, and they didn’t want rumors to spread that would tarnish his reputation.”

  “How did you find out about it?”

  “Caleb and Blake lived in Jamaica, and after they were orphaned, their vicar sent them to their English kin, but the man wasn’t aware that Miles had a wife in England.”

  “Oh, my goodness! I said I’d enjoy you sharing a secret, but maybe I didn’t mean it.”

  “They traveled with their guardian, Sybil Jones, and she was a veritable tiger on their behalf. She shamed the navy into negotiating with my mother to provide some assistance to them. We paid for their schooling and navy commissions, and in return, they promised to never reveal my father’s conduct. They’re not bastard sons. They’re a bigamist’s sons, but I doubt there’s a name for that.”

  “You’re not angry about the money your mother spent on them, are you? To me, it seems like a fair resolution.”

  “I was angry when I was younger, but I viewed the dilemma from my mother’s perspective. Now I simply wonder what my father was thinking. How could he have imagined he’d get away with it? I remember him as being very arrogant. Perhaps he deemed himself to be invincible and would never die, so the facts would never be exposed.”

  “I’m at a loss for words.”

  “Don’t tell anyone. Please? As I mentioned, people know I have two half-brothers, but they’re not cognizant of the true situation. Both women are deceased, but still, I would hate to have gossip disseminated.”

  “I will never tell a soul. I swear.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How was your conversation with Caleb? You claimed it was cordial, but what did you discuss?”

  “At first, he was grouchy to have me stop by, and I can’t blame him. We weren’t very kind to him and his brother. In the past few years, he’s grown very rich. He owns a successful gambling club, and I felt he was worried I was about to beg him for a loan. After he realized I was merely there to chat, he calmed down. We talked about our parents—all three of them.”

  “I’m so glad. I like everyone to get along.”

  “That was my chief adventure in town, but when I attended the theater, it was so I could see Miss Libby Carstairs. Have you ever heard of her?”

  She smirked. “Yes, I’ve definitely heard of Libby Carstairs.”

  “She’s one of the Lost Girls my father rescued from that deserted island. She’s celebrated for performing stories about him.”

  “She certainly is.”

  “I’ve always wanted to meet her, but I never have, so I went backstage, but she’d already left.” He chuckled, as if embarrassed. “I’m perplexed over what I was hoping to have happen. I just thought it would be interesting to confer with her. She and I have quite a connection.”

  He’d given her the opening she needed, and she gestured to him. “Would you sit up for me? You’ve confessed a secret about yourself, and now, I should confess one about me.”

  He studied her, then he scooted up so they were facing each other on the mattress.

  “Gad, you look so serious all of a sudden,” he said. “What is it? I can’t bear to be informed that something awful has occurred.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s amazing and intriguing, and I predict you’ll be stunned.”

  He was wary, tentative. “Let’s see if you’re correct.”

  “Libby Carstairs is the most famous Lost Girl, but were you ever told the names of the two who were rescu
ed with her?”

  “One of them was . . . ah . . . Caroline Grey? My brother, Caleb, crossed paths with her recently, and he liked her very much.”

  She raised a brow. “Did he?”

  “And the other one was . . . ah . . . Joanne, but I’ve never learned her surname.”

  “It wasn’t Joanne. It was Joanna—and James. Joanna James.”

  She hadn’t exactly been clear, so he didn’t immediately grasp what she’d imparted.

  “I’m confused,” he said. “Is this some sort of riddle?”

  “I am Joanna James. I am a Lost Girl who was saved by your father. I consider Libby and Caroline to be my sisters.”

  He was completely flummoxed. “You are not one of those girls.”

  “I am. I really am.”

  “But . . . but . . . why didn’t you ever admit it here at Ralston? Why didn’t you confide in me? Why hide it?”

  “It’s tied up in the reasons my mother and I fled England. My father’s wife had threatened and tormented us, and once I was returned by the navy, my Aunt Pru refused to stir that hornet’s nest by having my father’s relatives discover I was back. She was always afraid his wife might cause trouble for me.”

  “You are Joanna James? Seriously?”

  “Yes. Over the years, we got in the habit of concealing it. It’s been difficult for me to change my thinking about it.”

  “Does Clara know?”

  “Yes, and it’s been killing her to remain silent, especially with how you’ve befriended us.”

  “Why tell me now?”

  “Well, there is an odd event that transpired. I was visited by a newspaper reporter from London.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “It’s the twentieth anniversary of the shipwreck.”

  “The vision you and I shared? That was the shipwreck, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. It’s why I try to never recollect any details. It haunts me, so my mind has protected me by blocking most of it.”

  “I can certainly understand why.”

  “Anyway, the newspaper is planning to write an article about the three of us.”

 

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