COME BE MY LOVE
Patricia Watters
When Sarah Ashley arrives in Victoria, British Columbia to open a mercantile for the manufacture and sale of bloomer costumes, she turns Governor Jonathan Cromwell's colony upside down. But while her enterprise is diving the town and disrupting every facet of Jon's life, he can't decide whether to seduce the stunning suffragette into sweet submission, set more obstacles in her path, or send her away to preserve his colony. But Sarah didn't liquidate her entire savings and sail all the way from San Francisco to Victoria just to have her dreams dashed by Vancouver Island's arrogant young governor. Come hell or high water, she will establish her business despite Jon's unfairly imposed obstacles... and a longing heart that tempts her to surrender her principles for one night of passion with the insufferably handsome rogue.
COME BE MY LOVE
Copyright © Patricia Watters, 2011
Fourth Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or were used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. The republication or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic or mechanical or other means, not known of hereafter invented, including xerograpghy, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law.
PROLOG
San Francisco - August 1864
Her lips stilled. And Sarah knew her mother was dead. She stared at her lifeless face, eyes blank in their sunken sockets, and thought, Why did you leave me now with this terrible burden?
The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with hours of sitting by the bedside and watching the life slowly draining away as her mother slept off the effects of the laudanum. But then, in a moment that had taken Sarah by surprise, her mother's eyes opened, and with a clarity that almost alarmed Sarah in its suddenness, she said in a voice that had no quavering, and with strong resolve, "There is something I must tell you."
"Save your strength, Mother. We can talk later," Sarah said.
Her mother rolled her head back and forth on the pillow, saying, "No, no it must be now, and you must listen carefully, because I will only say this once." She paused then, and her lips pinched together, as if she were reconsidering, but then she drew in a long rattling breath, and said, "Your father is not your real father. Your real father was a captain in the British navy—a man with fiery red hair and restless green eyes." There was no trace of emotion in her voice, only the harsh reality of cold facts that needed to be said. "I fancied myself in love," she continued, "but by the time your stepfather came along I realized my captain wasn't coming back, so I accepted your stepfather's proposal. But just before we were to marry your father sailed into port. It was a brief affair—I had to know how I truly felt—and your stepfather found out."
Sarah placed her hand on her mother's arm to stop the words she didn't want to hear, but her mother ignored the gesture, sucked in a breath that wheezed in her chest, and said, "Your stepfather took me back because he needed someone to look after Hollis and Tyler. Soon afterwards I realized I was with child, but I didn't know which man was your father. When you were born... your green eyes and coppery hair... well, there was no question. "
"Rest, Mother. Talking is sapping your strength," Sarah said.
Ignoring Sarah's request, her mother said, "I'm telling you this because you need to know why your stepfather always resented you,. You were a constant reminder of my betrayal. It was never your fault. It was mine."
Sarah's throat tightened, and a deep dull ache settled in her chest. All her life she'd reached out to a man she could never touch, for a love that was never returned. And while Hollis and Tyler were gambling away the proceeds from their father's clothing manufactory, she'd worked long hours there with him, but the harder she tried, the more he resented her presence...
"When I next saw your father," her mother continued in measured breaths, "I told him about you, but he denied it... called me a whore. I never saw him again. Your stepfather and I lived as man and wife, but we never married because he did not want my bastard child to be his heir. But knowing you would never inherit from him, I saved money over the years. It's in an account at Wells Fargo in my name and you are the sole beneficiary." Her mother's face became pensive then, as if a great burden had been lifted from her soul. But then her eyes sharpened, and she said, with the last vestiges of her strength, "Hollis and Tyler must never know or they'll find a way to take it from you..." The words trailed off and then she was still...
Sarah gazed down at her mother. Such a heavy burden she'd held over the years. But now, at last she was free. Reaching out, she gently placed her hands over her mother's eyes and dragged her eyelids shut, then placed a kiss on her immobile face...
But when she turned to go, she saw Hollis standing in the doorway, and from the look of awareness on his face, she knew he'd heard...
CHAPTER ONE
Victoria, Vancouver Island – six weeks later
The rusty cries of gulls announced the arrival of the clipper ship Mariah. As the tall vessel glided into Victoria Harbor, raucous birds swooped down and dipped into the murky water, snatching debris that rolled in the wake.
Bracing her hands on the rail, Sarah Ashley inhaled the sea air and felt the sting of the wind on her cheeks. All day a thick mist had enveloped the ship, then shortly before it sailed into the harbor the mist lifted, like a curtain opening to a bright new world, and a fresh new life. She had no idea what Hollis and Tyler would do when they learned she'd liquidated her account and fled from San Francisco, but she prayed they would not come looking for her, at least not in Victoria. Tyler she didn't fear, but Hollis was not one to issue idle threats. If he found her, his revenge would be shrewd and unmerciful.
Gazing at the scene before her, she was almost too excited to breathe. Everywhere, she saw signs of growth. In the distance, tall stands of cedar and fir made a jagged profile against a gray-blue sky, and vast areas, recently cleared for pasture and crops, bordered patchwork fields of homesteads. Closer in, stores, hotels, saloons, and other buildings lined an orderly network of streets, the entire landscape appearing planned, organized. A city on the threshold of prosperity.
But in the foreground, the scene changed dramatically. On the quayside between the aging palisade of Fort Victoria and the warehouses at the water's edge, ragtag tents and makeshift hovels housed prospectors waiting for passage to the Cariboo goldfields. Shabby-looking men carrying knapsacks laden with picks, shovels, and iron buckets crowded the wharf, and hacks, carts and peddlers' wagons, all come to profit from the gold seekers, jammed the thoroughfares.
Anxiously fingering the smooth handles of her reticule, Sarah scanned the passengers on deck for her maid and caught sight of the young colored woman sashaying past a handsome seaman with skin as black as pitch, his grin coaxing a demure smile from Mandi in return. It wasn't the first time a man had rested appreciative eyes on Mandi. With mirthful black eyes fringed with long curling lashes, beautifully sculpted lips the color of burgundy, and a smooth unblemished complexion the shade of dark walnut, Mandi possessed uncommon beauty. Still, she'd turned down several offers of marriage because she carried in her heart hopes of one day finding her ideal man. Quixotic, sentimental, daydreaming little fool. There were no ideal men.
As Mandi approached, Sarah gave her a sharp look, and said, "Where have you been? It's al
most time to disembark."
Mandi’s eyes flicked over the passengers lining the deck, then she tipped her face toward Sarah, and said in a hushed voice, "Ah heard Miz Galbraith sayin' to one of the ladies aboard some things about you and the captain, so Ah had to keep on listenin'."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Sarah said. “Captain Sweeney's old enough to be my grandfather. You must have heard wrong."
"No," Mandi insisted. "Miz Galbraith was sayin' you is one of them loose women from San Francisco. Ah hopes she don't do like Mister Hollis and Mister Tyler did in San Francisco, and spread ugly lies 'bout you. She seems a right spiteful women for a preacher's wife."
"She may be a preacher's wife," Sarah said, "but she's also a harridan, a snoop and a busybody. I'm sure the people in Victoria will disavow anything she might say."
"Not accordin' to Ida—that's Miz Cromwell's maid. Ida says that the ladies of Victoria have nothin' better to do but sit around and gossip 'bout one thing or another, that word spreads so fast, a lady can start a rumor one day, and by the next it's bein' talked about in every parlor in Victoria."
Sarah chuckled. "Then let's look on the bright side. Think of how quickly word of our business venture will spread."
"But that's not all," Mandi said. "Ah heard Miz Galbraith say, loud enough so's other folks could hear, that the guv'nor's sister ought not to be in your company, her traveling with the guv'nor's daughters and all. And that's apt to get back to the guv'nor's mother, since Ida said she and Miz Galbraith are special good friends."
Sarah felt a twinge of uncertainty. If Lady Cromwell, the Dowager Viscountess of Haverhill, the woman at the pinnacle of Victoria's polite society, believed such gossip as Harriet Galbraith might spread, it could be a repeat of what happened in San Francisco.
Sarah glanced beyond Mandi and saw Esther Cromwell, the governor’s sister, walking toward them, the skirt of her plain brown traveling dress swishing back and forth with each quick step. Esther and Governor Cromwell’s teenage daughters, Louella and Josephine, were returning to Victoria after a holiday in San Francisco. During the voyage, Esther and Sarah had become friends. A spinster in her early forties, Esther wore her mouse-brown hair parted in the middle and dragged back into an unadorned bun at her nape, her clear brown eyes were without bistre, and her cheeks and lips were devoid of rouge. On first seeing Esther, Sarah felt sorry for the woman, being so plain, and she'd suspected her personality was as lackluster as her appearance. Instead, Sarah found a warm, humorous lady hidden beneath the colorless exterior.
As Esther approached, her face held a look of grave concern. "I insist you come to our home and stay with us." She swept her arm across the multitude of bearded, hard-looking men milling about on the wharf, most of them armed with revolvers and bowie knives, and said, "Look at them... the absolute dregs of society. It's not safe for an unmarried woman to stay at the hotel."
Sarah perused the men. She too had misgivings about staying at the hotel. But she expected to be so busy setting up her business that she didn't anticipate spending much time there. "I'm sure we'll be fine," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.
"You don't understand," Esther said. "Several women have disappeared, snatched right off the street. No one knows what's happened to them. There's not a trace. Jon suspects they've been carried off to the goldfields and sold to the prospectors."
Sarah stared at Esther, incredulous. "Sold? Like... slaves?"
"Precisely," Esther said. "The women here are afraid to go out in groups of less than three, and of course everyone constantly guards their daughters. So far, all of the women who disappeared have been prostitutes, but one never knows when a decent woman might be snatched and hauled off."
Sarah eyed the disreputable-looking throng. Until now, she hadn't realized how untamed the city was. The thought of she and Mandi alone in a hotel crowded with these men was becoming increasingly unappealing. She looked askance at Esther. "Well, if it's really no imposition."
"I assure you, it's not," Esther said. "So it's settled. Now I must find Louella and Josephine."
As Esther walked off, Sarah had second thoughts about staying with the Cromwell's. Esther mentioned earlier that her brother, Jon, the governor of Vancouver Island, was opposed to the influx of Americans coming to Victoria to make their fortunes. And there was no question, she was another American doing just that.
Thirty minutes later, as Sarah stood on the wharf with Esther, Mandi, Ida, and the two girls, a great commotion arose among the crowd in the street above, then shouts erupted and a horse reared, breaking its ties. The horse bolted forward, toppled a vegetable wagon, and rushed headlong toward a child. Suddenly, a horseman on a blood bay soared over the toppled wagon, overtaking the riderless horse, and in one fluid motion leaned low astride his horse and scooped up the child. Reining to an abrupt halt, the horseman comforted the crying child for a few moments then lowered him into the upraised arms of his distressed mother.
Esther slapped both hands to her face. "Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "It's Jon!"
Sarah stared at the man, too stunned to speak. Tall and powerfully built, with a crop of unruly black hair, a thick chest and broad shoulders, and muscular thighs evident beneath his tight breeches, the man did not look like a governor, at least not in the sense Sarah would have expected. But then, Jonathan Cromwell governed a wild, untamed frontier, a land that seemed as raw and rugged as the man himself. For an instant he looked directly at her, and Sarah found herself staring into a pair of dark devil eyes.
Her cheeks grew warm and her entire body seemed to respond. The sight of him awakened something deep inside, something that stirred and warmed her, and scared her too. Danger lurked in those dark eyes, not the kind of danger she'd felt when she'd gazed at the men on the wharf, but another kind of danger, one capable of piercing her heart and finding its way into her soul. Never had she seen a man who exuded so much strength, a bold strength that was evident in the firm angle of his jaw and the almost brutal line of his mouth.
Then his mouth softened and his eyes brightened, and she knew he'd spotted his daughters running toward him. Swinging his leg over the horse, he leapt to the ground, jogged down to the wharf with his horse loping behind and gathered Josephine and Louella in a fierce embrace.
Esther took her arm. "Come on," she said. "I'll introduce you to Jon."
Only then did Sarah realize she'd been holding her breath.
Feeling a vague uncertainty, she walked with Esther to meet the man.
"Jon," Esther said, tugging Sarah toward him, "may I introduce Miss Sarah Ashley. I've taken the liberty of inviting her to be a guest in our home, and she has agreed."
Captivated by the luminous dark eyes that seemed to be assessing her, Sarah extended her hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you,” she said, in an edgy voice, as the governor's broad palm curved around her hand.
Jonathan Cromwell's large fingers tightened. "This is indeed a pleasure," he said, his eyes reflecting the lazy grin on his tanned face as he held her hand a shade longer than propriety allowed. "Am I to assume you have no friends or relatives here?"
"Well... yes," Sarah replied, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice. "That is... no, I have no relatives in Victoria. Most of my family live in the East, except for my two bro... that is...." She paused. After what Hollis and Tyler had done, it seemed inconceivable that she could consider them family. Trying to dismiss the anger and bitterness, she said, "Two stepbrothers live in San Francisco."
The long pause that followed led Sarah to surmise that Governor Cromwell was trying to adjust to the idea of his sister having invited an American to stay in their home.
"Then you're here on holiday?" he asked.
Sarah hesitated. "Well, no, not exactly. That is, I'm moving to Victoria. I've heard that the town offers many opportunities."
Governor Cromwell's expression hardened. "I suppose it does," he said, his voice cool. "I understand many Americans are deserting families, jobs, and
country in favor of gold."
Sarah couldn't dispute that. She'd heard talk of merchants and farmers quitting work, husbands abandoning wives and family, lumber mills shutting down, even Union and Confederate soldiers fleeing from battle, all swarming to outfitting stores and steamship ticket offices, before funneling up the Fraser river to the goldfields...
Fourteen-year-old Louella, a pretty child with golden-brown hair, a sharp pointed face and a pouting mouth, fixed anxious blue eyes on her father, and said, "Please, Papa, may we go home? It's been dreadfully long since I've seen Taffy and her kittens."
Jon gave his younger daughter a warm smile. "Yes, poppet." He curved his arm about Louella's thin shoulders, took his horse by the bridle, and motioned for everyone to follow.
Sarah gathered her skirt and petticoats. Lifting them clear of the dirt on the wharf, she and Mandi traipsed behind the governor and his entourage as they marched up the plank roadway ascending the quay. On the street, two carriages waited—a dark green depot wagon drawn by a pair of dapple grays, and an elegant midnight-blue town coach bearing a crest on the door. A team of four blacks with patent leather collars and silver rosettes on their face pieces pranced nervously in place before the town coach.
A coach-and-four, and a footman and coachman smartly dressed in fine livery—silk top hats perched on their heads, dark blue greatcoats with rows of shiny brass buttons, and matching trousers tucked into high black boots. A mark of prosperity. Only a colony with wealth could afford to provide its governor with such refinement. Sarah smiled inwardly. She'd made the right choice in coming. Victoria would indeed bring her prosperity, and with it, the security she needed to at last have peace of mind.
Mandi, Ida, and the girls climbed into the depot wagon. Then, to Sarah's surprise, the governor turned his horse over to one of the footmen and said, "Tie him behind the coach, Hayworth. I'll be joining Miss Cromwell and Miss Ashley for the ride home. But first, I have to talk to Mayor Harris." With little more than a nod to the women, he left.
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