by Susanne Lord
“Thomas,” she repeated.
She looked from him into Seth’s bleak eyes.
“Heavens,” Emma said from behind her. “Thomas, what are you doing here? That is… Do come in.”
She backed away from the door, allowing the men to enter. Her pulse began to race as she introduced Thomas to Mary and Sebastian. Seth stood silent.
Thomas was here. He was here. Had he come to demand she return to India? She’d returned his bond. He had no right.
“Please have a seat.” Mary gestured for them to join her on the sofa. “Mina? Won’t you sit?”
Her legs seemed to have lost the capacity to move, but the men would not sit if she did not. With a jolt, she turned for a chair and sank onto it.
“I hope I find you well, Mina?” Thomas asked. “And all your sisters?”
“Indeed,” she breathed. “Yes. We are well.”
Mary poured the coffee and tea, prodding her with a speaking look.
“I”—Mina swallowed to loosen her throat—“I did not expect to see you in England, Thomas. Is your family well?”
The glass of his lenses obscured his eyes. “Yes, they are very well, thank you.”
Panic crawled up her back and she had to clench her teeth against demanding answers, against screaming. We do not suit! You love another woman! Seth told me you loved—
She looked to Seth, but his gaze was on his coffee, and she needed him to look at her or…or she was alone. And she was afraid.
“Is the coffee to your liking, Mr. Mayhew?” Mary asked.
He lifted his head and graced her with one of his lazy smiles. “Best I’ve ever had. Thank you, Mary.”
Mary’s hands fluttered to her lap and back up to wrap her arms. “There is more. And sugar.” She pushed the sugar bowl closer to him. “I hope—Mr. Grant, I hope your sail was pleasant.”
Thomas nodded. “Tolerable. Wouldn’t you say, Seth?”
Seth’s eyes were on Mina, grave and steady. “Yes.”
They had sailed together? Is that what Seth meant to tell her yesterday? How could he not have told her?
An awkward silence fell over the room, and she couldn’t bear a second more. “I’ll put on another kettle.” She rose on unsteady legs and hurried from the room, not acknowledging the men standing for her departure. In the kitchen, she crowded the hob, needing the fire’s warmth.
And then the truth revealed itself. She had to cover her lips from crying out. Seth had brought Thomas.
For her.
“I should have told you, Minnie.” Seth had entered silently behind her.
“I was surprised to see him.”
“I know it.”
She was afraid to look at him but could feel his gaze on her. One of Sebastian’s biscuits sat forgotten on a chair and she placed it carefully on the table. “I don’t know why he’s here. I can’t go back to India.” She laughed without humor. “Can you imagine another sail? Well, yes—you could, I suppose. But I can’t—” I can’t…I can’t leave you, leave my sisters, can’t…
“You’re not going back, Minnie.”
Her heart didn’t ease with his words. “Did you bring him here to England?”
“No, I didn’t”—he took a long breath—“I didn’t bring him. I hoped—well, I’m thinking you already know what I hoped, but I didn’t plan what happened.” He paused. “He’s the better man, Minnie.”
A silent sob wracked her, convulsing her shoulders. Tears stung beneath her lids, and she kept her eyes on the table.
“He’s come to marry you as he should’ve done the moment you met. And he’ll take care of Emma and Mary and Sebastian. He promised me he would.”
She leaned hard on the table, bracing against his words.
“He’s a good man. You know that. He’s got a hope about things and that’s nice, that’s better. That’s”—he cleared his throat—“that’s the man you need. Steady, sensible. Not just sensible, but smart. And he’s safe.”
She closed her eyes. Hadn’t she said all this before? And believed it?
Love didn’t matter. She’d said it again and again.
“You know all the reasons you can’t marry me. You’d be unhappy.” Seth kept talking and she forced herself to listen, though she couldn’t look at him. “Once I had to sail again to earn our living. That’s what my life is, Minnie. An explorer’s life. You’d be unhappy. If you were cold and hungry, or our children were, you’d be unhappy.”
She nodded, but she didn’t know why or what she was doing. Love didn’t matter. It didn’t—“I would have taken care of you.”
No. No. She wouldn’t. How would she? Even Seth would not rose color this.
His breath hitched and when he spoke, his voice was ragged. “I know it. The moment I saw you, I knew it. And you’d do a job of it, too, Minnie.” His voice had plummeted so she stared at his lips to truly hear. “But I can’t take care of you. I’m not…ready.”
He wouldn’t look at her. I’m not ready. What had it cost him to say that to her? But she’d said the same to him.
And she’d said it first.
Shame engulfed her, hot as flames. She was cruel. She was a coward.
He turned his back to face the door. “I’m joining an expedition into Brazil. I thought it an opportune time to sign on with a crew.”
Brazil? “No. No, what of the auction and your prizes? You can’t leave.”
“I didn’t sign a contract. Didn’t think I even had a need to. That’s not—that’s not a man who can take care of a family. Seems I can only take care of myself.”
No, no, no. He couldn’t leave, not again. “What of your land? And your stone cottage? And the hedgerow?”
Something like pain flashed across his face. “It’ll keep a few years more.”
“You have to stay. You can’t keep sailing and I…I couldn’t bear to have you so far away. Please. For Georgiana and Aimee, stay. For me.”
He grabbed a fistful of his cropped hair but didn’t turn. “Don’t ask me to stay, Minnie. I can’t.”
“Seth—?”
“You have to marry Tom. He came all this way for you and you’ll not be leaving England. He’s kept a position with East India. You’ll manage your own house. You and your children will never want for anything. Even if he dies on you, you’ll be taken care of—”
“Please. Don’t sail.”
Seth’s jaw tightened and he shook his head, making for the door. “There’s no help for it, Minnie.”
He had her heart. She had to protect him. He couldn’t go. “Wait!”
He stilled, his arms hanging at his side.
“Wait…wait,” she breathed. “Don’t. You can’t sail anymore.” She caught her breath and rushed on. “If you stay…I’ll marry Thomas. I promise I will. But only if you stay. Only if you take back your money.”
He turned to look at her, and she nearly sobbed at the shame in his eyes. And the betrayal.
She had done that to him.
“I…please,” she whispered. “I don’t know what else to do to make you stay.”
The door inched open and Thomas leaned through the door cautiously. “Mayhew?” He waited for Seth to look at him. “Perhaps it’s best if I speak to Mina now. Would you pardon us?”
Seth straightened to his full height and turned stiffly back to her. His eyes burned into hers, grave and resolved, but she refused to buckle.
Until he set her quartz pebble on the table and spoke his next words.
“You can’t be on my side anymore, Minnie.”
She sank onto the chair before her nerveless legs could fail. She could not speak to stop him from walking out.
“Mina?” Thomas asked. “Are you all right?”
“He’s going?” She could barely choke out the words. She looked at Thomas, trying to find an answ
er there. “Did you…did you persuade him to sail?”
“Sail?”
“He’s going to sail. To Brazil.”
Thomas frowned. “I didn’t—he never said anything about that.” He eyed her warily. “Mina?”
She forced herself to focus on Thomas’s words.
He sat across from her. “I know I’ve surprised you. I’m sorry. But I think you must know why I’m here.”
She sat very still, her heartbeat loud in her ears. “No, Thomas. I don’t.”
He blinked behind his spectacles.
“And I can’t believe you know why you’re here, either,” she said. “You don’t want to marry me.”
Thomas stiffened. “I promised you my protection and then abandoned you. I treated you abominably. The only excuse I offer is that—”
“You’re in love with someone else.”
Thomas had the grace not to deny it. “Mina, I’ll be a good husband to you. I’ll treat you as I should have. I’ll never knowingly be cruel or hurtful.”
“No. No, I know you wouldn’t. You’re a good man, but—”
“I’ve come to fulfill my obligation to you, and I vow, I will keep you and your sisters safe. I’m done with India. I think I’ve been done for a long time now. And my family misses me. I missed them, and so I can”—he clenched his eyes shut—“do what I am supposed to do. Leave the past behind and move forward and marry. Will you marry me, Mina?”
And there it was. A marriage offer.
“Mina?”
From a man who was safe—
…I’d work hard to take care of you…and we’d be together; we’d be home—I’d give you my home. And I promise, I’d never leave you or our children. I never would. I’d never want to…
An answer to her oldest prayer—a husband, a house, safety. And suddenly, none of those things could induce her to accept Thomas’s offer.
We’d be together, Minnie. We’d be home.
And Seth was home.
“Do you believe there is more to life than safety?” She didn’t recognize the voice as her own. “More than just…avoiding fear and suffering?”
Thomas flinched, as if cornered by his own memories. He dropped his eyes. “I don’t know. I believed so once. I hoped so once.”
She had never hoped for a life that was anything more than safe, never. Until now.
She pushed to her feet. “I thank you, Thomas. I do. I know I ought to marry you. I know I should be grateful.” She closed her eyes. “And I know I am failing my family. But there is someone else that I love just as much as my sisters, and he needs me, too. And I didn’t know that until now.” She looked him in the eye—even through those blasted spectacles so there would be no misunderstanding. “I won’t marry you.”
Thomas stared at her. And then a small smile curled his lips. “Mina…how could I not have known? You love him back, don’t you?”
She met his eyes and couldn’t find any way to deny it. God, her heart must be written on her face. “I love Seth, and I trust him. I trust we’ll be safe if we are together. And I know that sounds feeble-headed but I am certain I want to take care of him. And I want him to take care of me, or I will be very unhappy.”
Thomas smiled. “So you are refusing me?”
“You don’t need me, Thomas.” And the next realization came to her with an alarming…grace. “And I don’t need you.”
He moved closer and caught her fingers to lift her hand for his kiss. “You are a mighty woman, Mina.”
Mighty? Was love deluding her as it had Mary? Was she making the worst mistake of her life? Was she mighty?
Perhaps, just this once, just for Seth, she could be.
Twenty-one
A man preparing for his fifteenth sail knew he’d be packing regrets. But this time, maybe they wouldn’t be as heavy.
Seth’s wood trunk covered nearly all of the bedroom floor in these cramped rooms he’d rented for himself and Georgie. There was no room for a sister, in any case, so she stood in the door, watching him pack. And frowning.
She didn’t approve of his going. He could have found some low work somewhere, to be near her and Aimee, but he couldn’t deny he was damn eager to be outward-bound. A hundred days on a creaking ship was preferable to being so close to Mina and not being able to be with her.
“Are those the only linens you have?” she asked.
“They’re all I need.”
Georgie was pretending indifference, but he wasn’t fooled. She was keeping an eye on his packing. “You might have some extra drawers sewn,” she said. “You’ll not find them easily in the Americas in your size.”
“Finding’s what I do, Georgie. Now stop worrying. You should be packing yourself.”
“I’m done. They’re sending a carriage after supper for me and Aimee.” Georgie stared at him, her mouth turning down with sadness. “How could I have been so stupid, Seth?”
“Georgie—”
“I should’ve kept a little of the reward for you. If I did, just a little, you and Mina—”
“Georgie, stop,” Seth said. “You did the right thing.”
Georgie quieted, her lips thin as if in pain. “I should have helped you.”
“I never took anything I didn’t earn. I couldn’t start now.” Seth stared into his trunk because Georgie’s chin had started to quiver.
That huge reward was turned into a trust for Aimee—by Georgie’s own design—but in turn, she’d negotiated a position as nursemaid and companion to Aimee. They’d both be living in a Grosvenor Square townhouse that belonged to Aimee’s guardian.
Seth continued his packing. “It’s damn well how it should be, Georgie. That little baby shouldn’t lose another mother. Your situation and…and the other one settled different than I’d predicted, but it settled better.”
“How can you say that?”
“Minnie will be taken care of. Her sisters, too.” His voice sounded wrong. He cleared his throat roughly. “Seems I’m not all that skilled in predicting matters.”
“I’m so afraid you’ll regret leaving.”
His tin travel cup slipped from his fingers, and he hurried to cover the fumble. “There’ll be regrets, Georgie. But none I can’t shoulder.”
Seth pushed to his feet and moved to the cupboard. “Besides, Minnie would’ve accepted Tom by now.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Tom’ll keep her safe, like she needs.” Mina was capable, composed, and orderly-like, and Tom suited that. And once all of Mina’s straight thinking returned, she’d wonder what she ever saw in a vagabond explorer that had no business turning his eyes on her in the first place.
She would forget him—might even be ashamed of lying with him.
Pain streaked across his chest at the thought. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be forgetting her. He couldn’t shut his eyes without seeing her. She was always walking his land up in Derbyshire, his cottage in the background. Crossing that stream with her stepping-stones he planned to put in. He’d still do that little bridge, as soon as he got back in a few years. That wouldn’t cost any more than his own labor if he was clever about it. Maybe there’d even be a day when she’d come and see it. With Tom and her children.
That pain wasn’t easing, but there was something else growing there. Something hopeful and calm: a future for Mina. In time, maybe he’d feel less sad over it.
A knock sounded at the door. Georgie, with heavy steps, went to answer and returned with a letter in her hand. “Another note from Will Repton.”
He grunted a reply but didn’t look up.
“Will you not read this one, either?” Georgie dropped the letter on his bed. “He writes to me, too, you know.”
Damn. He paused in his packing.
“What did you expect?” she said. “You’ve avoided him for three weeks. And
I agree with him—you are being cruel to Mina.”
“Don’t, Georgie,” he growled.
“She’s desperate to see you and has no way to reach you. It would serve you right if Mr. Repton tells her where you live.”
A sudden panic froze him, but he steeled his spine. “Not his business. Or yours.”
“It is my business. I only… I want you to be happy. I know you go to Mildmay Park every day to spy on her and see that she’s all right. Did you think I wouldn’t notice your disappearing for hours every day?”
He heated with shame but shook his head. “I told you. She’s marrying Tom.”
“Only because you’ll not marry her yourself.”
He slammed his trunk shut. “I can’t keep her, and Minnie knows it. She’ll not be ’avin’ a sket.”
“You’re not a sket.”
He frowned at the bloody Midlands words. He was supposed to be leaving them good and buried.
Georgie grabbed his arm and he bit back a curse. God save him from little sisters.
“Seth, demand the Skinners acknowledge those are your prizes. You’re stronger than a dozen Skinner boys—bang it out if you have to.”
“May as well beat the wind,” he mumbled. “It won’t work, Georgie.”
“Why won’t you try?” Her chin jutted stubbornly. “I gave Mr. Repton your seeds.”
His heart plunged to his boots. “Why would you do that?”
“I had to do something.”
“The auction will be done before anything could be proved.”
“He and Ben Paxton have a striking house in Richmond. Two botanists from Kew witnessed the sowing and verified the contents of your journal.”
“And who gave them my journal?”
Georgie crossed her arms across her chest, and that little chin jutted higher.
Well. There was his answer. With a growl, he turned from her and opened his wardrobe to resume packing.
“I could tell Mina where to find you,” she said.
“You wouldn’t do that,” he said flatly. And she wouldn’t. They were all the family they had left, and she wouldn’t do a thing that would cut him that deep.
