by Carol Arens
There was so much more to him than being handsome, strong, manly and whatever it was about him that made her long to stretch out on the floor beside him and lie within the circle of his strong arms.
There was all that, but in addition she adored his sense of honour. A nicely formed face was wasted on a man without integrity.
Tender feelings for him were developing too fast for her peace of mind. Something inside, the quiet whispering voice, was continuing to make suggestions having to do with ‘for ever’.
Honestly, Rees had not offered her three months because he wanted her for ever.
Perhaps he thought she would not fit in with the simpler way he lived, not now that he knew how she had been raised in wealth.
If he did think it, he was wrong.
In this moment, she was completely content to be in this small cabin with him. Being in a larger one would have him lying further away.
At some point during her contemplation of his face he woke up. All of a sudden, she was looking into his eyes, warming to his smile.
‘Can’t sleep?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Me either.’
‘Really? You have been giving an excellent impression of it for hours now.’
‘Must have been having dreams that made me feel awake.’
He eased up on his elbows, shaking his head. Auburn hair scraped his high cheekbones. He peered at her through the locks that dangled down his forehead.
Even in the dim light she saw his eyes twinkling at her. It was hard to imagine that eyes could be that shade of blue.
The voice in her head proffered that she would prefer to spend her life looking into them rather than remembering how nice it had been.
‘What were you dreaming about?’
‘Coffee, maybe? Want some?’
‘What time is it? I wonder.’
‘There’s a couple of hours before my shift, I think.’
He got up from the floor, trying to disguise his groan. He lit the fire in the stove, then began to make coffee.
The room became suffused in an amber glow.
‘I don’t feel right about taking over your bed. I ought to sleep on the floor.’
He arched a brow, levelled her with a stare that told her there was no point in discussing the situation.
‘Perhaps we—?’
He handed her a steaming mug, then sat on the mattress beside her.
‘Perhaps we what?’ he asked.
‘Ah, well, we are married, after all.’ She could not believe she was about to suggest this, but it seemed words spilled from her mouth with a will of their own. Which was absurd; one had to be consenting to the words one spoke. She might be a fool but—‘It would not be unusual to share the bed.’
His gaze fastened upon her, sharp and warm all at once. She had never seen anything quite like the way he was looking at her.
‘We might be crowded, but surely it will be better than on the floor. There is no need for you to wake up sore.’ She sipped her coffee even though it was too hot because she had to do something. His steady gaze made her feel odd. ‘It’s only for a few more nights, after all. Surely we can accommodate each other for that long.’
He cleared his throat, took a long swallow of coffee which had to have burned going down.
‘Would you like some water?’ she asked because he’d begun to cough.
Shaking his head, he set the mug on the floor.
‘Tell me more about your grandfather.’
If he wanted to change the course of the conversation, she would be happy to talk about the man who stood in her father’s place.
‘His name is James—Macooish, of course. He is wonderful. And brave. He’s loving and kind. He believes he is right in every situation—he is rather like you in that, I think.’
The similarity had not occurred to her before now. All of a sudden—all right—not so all of a sudden, she wanted to snuggle up beside Rees, feel his arm go around her and draw her close.
She was homesick for her family. Her heart tripped and squeezed in the instant it occurred to her that this man was now her family, too. They belonged to each other for several more weeks.
‘I believe I will like him.’
‘Everyone does.’ For many people, liking him had nothing to do with his fortune. They knew him to be a good man. ‘My parents died in a flash flood when I was very small. So did Clementine’s. The only reason we did not die with them was that Grandfather would not allow it. As young as I was, I still remember how he held tight to us even though the water surged around us. And not just ordinary water. It was full of rocks and branches, anything that got washed downstream.
‘Debris hit Grandfather, but not me or Clemmie because he curled himself around us. I heard him crying out every time he was hit by something. I can still hear him groaning with the effort to hold on to us.’
‘He sounds an extraordinary man.’
Once again Madeline thought Rees spoke more like a gentleman than a labourer.
‘Yes, and stubborn. He’d set his mind not to lose us along with the rest of the family. The three of us were all who were left. In the days after, Grandfather could have given up in grief, but he didn’t. He just kept on holding on to me and my cousin as though we were still in that flood, drying our tears and hiding his own. He raised us as lovingly as our parents would have.’
‘And through it all, he managed to earn his fortune. I admire him for going through what he did, for raising you and still carrying on.’
‘He was used to carrying on. He was born out of wedlock. His mother tried her best, but poverty was all he knew as a child. He refused to have the same thing happen to us, so he became rich in order to prevent it.’
‘I see,’ he said, but how could he possibly? But perhaps he had been through something of the same. Pregnancy outside of wedlock was hardly uncommon.
Heaven knew how many times Grandfather had cautioned her and Clemmie to guard their virtue.
No doubt Grandfather believed she had ignored his warning. That she was completely and utterly fallen.
‘Not quite. You see, Grandfather earned a fortune, but lost it, only to earn it again. He didn’t trust money alone to keep us safe. That is why he groomed me to marry the Earl of Fencroft. He was convinced that only a title would guarantee our security. He was certain that Lord Fencroft and I would make a brilliant match.’
‘But you were not convinced.’ He gave that look—the one that saw past her eyes clear to her thoughts. Had she really only known him such a short while?
‘I was not. Instead I believed a man who lied horribly to me and misrepresented his intentions in the worst way a man can.’
‘Do you regret it now? Not Fenster, I don’t mean, but not going along with your grandfather’s plan?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. I could hardly let my future be dictated.’
‘It is not uncommon for a woman in British society. Marriages are contracted for many reasons. Happiness might or might not follow the vows.’
‘I don’t know, Rees. I imagine I could not have been worse off than I was with Bertrand. And I would have had the security of my wedding vows.’
‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘Well, you have them now.’
‘But only for three—’
He touched her lips with one large, rough finger. ‘For as long as you wish.’
Chapter Six
‘But we agreed.’ Her voice sounded a bare whisper.
‘So we did, my angel. And I won’t go back on my word.’
If he had known in the beginning how much he would come to care for Madeline, he would not have presented the option. At the time, this marriage had to do with behaving in the morally responsible way with regards to a woman he had shared his room with and, by so doing, compromised her. In no less a way
it was for the sake of keeping his family from being torn apart.
Damn it, things had gone far beyond that now. He would say he was falling in love with Madeline Dalton, but that would indicate there were degrees to that state of being.
One either was or was not in love. There was no falling, only fallen.
He was fallen. Completely and irrevocably fallen. The short time he’d taken to come to the conclusion was irrelevant. He might not know every little fact about her, what she adored and what she detested, but he knew her—loved her.
‘Oh, good,’ she said, her gaze sliding away.
Clearly, she did not feel the same for him as he did her.
It ought to be a relief that she didn’t. If she did not love him, she would not be crushed by his deception when he finally admitted the truth.
He would be the devastated one. His secret sat upon his heart like a cold stone.
Right now, Madeline thought he was honourable—truthful.
She would not once they docked in Liverpool. The fact that he was Viscount Glenbrook would become evident as soon as they stepped off the boat. There was something about a family crest on the carriage door that tended to give one’s identity away.
The only conceivable way he saw for her to forgive him was to tell her all of it right now.
Huff it out.
She tipped her head to one side, smiling. He loved that gesture because her eyes twinkled. The generosity of her sweet spirit warmed him thoroughly.
‘Let’s just wait—see what happens.’ She leaned forward, kissed his lips quickly. ‘It’s more that I still feel a need to make my own choice in how my life goes rather than that I want to be without you.’
Stunned by the admission, he returned the kiss tenfold. Revealing who he was right now was unthinkable.
He needed time to win her heart completely.
Soon, though—very soon.
‘I like you, Rees.’ Her breathless statement cut him to the quick. ‘I like you very much.’
‘Marriages have been founded on less.’
And dashed on less than what he hid from her.
But what if he found her grandfather? Might she be more willing to forgive him?
The fact was, he had met a fellow named Macooish not so long ago—in Scotland when he’d purchased his ship. His name might have been James—or John. He could not be sure. He did recall the man’s face. He was strong and sharp minded for an older gentleman.
And he did have blue eyes.
What Madeline wanted most in the world was to be reunited with her grandfather. Rees had promised to help find him.
If he managed to do it, things might go strongly in his favour.
Luck, in fact, might be on his side. He had heard from someone that the Earl of Fencroft had married. Not the Earl that Madeline had been slated for—no, that poor fellow had passed away.
It was his brother, the new Earl, who had married. Now Rees wished he paid more attention to what went on in London. Or to Derbyshire gossip, as far as that went. Mostly he felt happier not knowing all the news and scandal that went with it.
He did know that the new Earl had wed—but to a British lady or an American heiress? He did not know that.
He could ask his mother, but she shunned the gossip of London more adroitly than he did. They shared the opinion that it was all stuffy nonsense. Did anyone in Derbyshire really care who wore what in the wrong way or who shunned whom for whatever absurd reason?
But in the end, his search for Madeline’s family might not be as difficult as it now seemed. As luck would have it, the Fencroft estate was close to Green Knoll Manor. At one point their fences connected.
It would not do to reveal his hopes just now. There was every possibility that the search would not lead to Madeline’s family, and he would not get her hopes up only to have them dashed.
For now, he would keep his thoughts to himself, just until he knew for certain.
In the event that Macooish was in residence at Fencroft Manor, it would be a great and happy surprise for Madeline.
He could think of no other wedding gift that would mean more to her.
It might be the very act that convinced her to remain with him beyond the cursed three-month agreement.
Yes, he would surprise her with the greatest gift he could give.
But between now and then he needed to tell her who he was.
Just not now. How could he possibly with her kiss still hot on his lips and her smile lodging itself deep in his heart?
No matter how he reminded himself that his continued silence only decreased her chances of forgiving him, he used his mouth to kiss her again.
He was a doomed man and deserved to be.
Still, miracles did happen, and he was going to carry on as if one would.
Was there not a saying that love conquered all?
Did not the Good Book preach forgiveness? He was sure he recalled a bit about love enduring all things.
All he could do was carry on in hopes of the saying being true.
In that spirit, he allowed the kiss to go on for a long, heated moment. When it ended he indulged in another, then another.
Then one once more for good measure.
He was going to need all the good measure he could get in order to make things come out right.
* * *
Madeline emerged from the cabin in search of sunshine and lunch.
Company, too, if she could find some. Rees had left to work his shift as soon as the sun came up. Now that she was feeling better, it was difficult to remain inside the little space for hours on end.
Except when her new husband was with her, then it was delightful. But now she needed company.
Rees had given her a bit of money to purchase food from the woman who sold bread and cheese in the dining saloon. Hopefully there would be something else she could buy. Now that her appetite had returned, she longed for the fare in first class.
Not that she would set foot in that place again. Even the promise of lush red berries could not lure her back there.
If she wanted friendly company, it was best to eat what might be had in the steerage dining room.
Out on the open deck she leaned into the wind, Rees’s big coat clamped tight around her. Even wrapped in heavy wool she was chilled by the time she entered the dining room.
Oh, good. The vendor was in her customary spot. In addition to cheese and bread, she was selling some sort of stew. Madeline would eat lunch here, then take food back to the cabin for dinner. Rees was always tired and hungry when he came back from the fire room.
Had Madeline been a countess, she would make sure a servant delivered a variety of his favourite foods to him. Life operated differently when one was a commoner. It was the wife’s duty to provide a meal with her own two hands.
She fell short in that area. Beyond buttering toast and serving tea, she was inept.
If she decided to stay with Rees, she would need to learn to cook and to sew. Oh, and to clean.
She purchased her food, then sat down at the end of the table closest to the stove.
Taking a bite of stew, Madeline closed her eyes to better savour the flavours warming her tongue. Would she be able to learn how to combine meat, potatoes and other vegetables in order to make them come together like this?
It took special skill to turn basic ingredients into a comforting meal.
She would do her best to learn—in the event that she wanted to remain married.
A few days ago, she would not have considered it. Now, with each passing hour, it was harder to imagine not seeing Rees Dalton rise in the morning and settle on the floor at night.
Grandfather might be disappointed in her choice. Unless Clementine had wed Lord Fencroft and fulfilled his dreams of his family secure with a title. In that case he might not care
that Rees worked in the fire room of a ship. As long as one of his granddaughters had married well, he would be blissfully content.
Finished with the stew, she took a bite of bread and chewed it slowly. She could not imagine she would ever learn the secret to making bread. That task seemed rather mysterious.
Luckily, one could purchase bread easily enough. But there was something to be considered that was much more serious than knowing how to prepare food.
Two little girls, to be exact.
Madeline knew nothing about being a mother. In her social sphere she hadn’t had much contact with children. She thought them to be lovely and precious, but how did one go about raising them?
She would be skilled at hiring a governess, but she doubted Rees’s income would allow for that. Perhaps his mother would instruct her on the care of small girls.
If it came to that.
If it did not, the situation became far more difficult. Children were engaging little people. She could scarcely imagine being a part of their lives for a short time and then going on her merry way and leaving their fragile hearts bruised.
It would not be her merry way either. Her heart would be wounded, too. Leaving Rees would be hard enough without having to say goodbye to his daughters.
Even though she had never met them, she feared she would become instantly attached.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Dalton,’ said a high-pitched voice.
Madeline snapped her attention back to the dining room to find the young girl from the dock sitting beside her on the bench.
‘Good afternoon,’ she answered. ‘It’s so lovely to see you again.’
‘You don’t look too horrid for having been forced to marry.’
‘How do you know about that—Clara—isn’t that your name?’
‘Everyone knows, of course.’ She nodded with a serious expression.
A woman sat down at the table across from them. Madeline recognised her as Clara’s mother.
‘It is rather talked about when a passenger nearly dies and marries a stranger within a matter of hours,’ the woman said. ‘I can’t say how horrible I feel about all of it. You were so kind to us. You did not deserve that misfortune.’
