by Lara Temple
‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Genny managed.
‘I don’t even know...’ There was a strange cadence to the younger woman’s voice. ‘Papa says Lord Westford wishes to contract a marriage of convenience or he would not have invited all these families with their daughters. When I told him what I thought about you he said that your birth, though respectable, won’t balance out Lord Westford’s own parentage. That he needs someone from a family of the first order of respectability. Like one of the Burford girls. Or myself. I think I suit him better than Sophronia, and certainly better than that minx Calista. Don’t you agree?’
The best Genny could do was nod. The girl’s gaze was relentless.
‘Papa said the best outcome is that Lord Westford marries me and takes you as his mistress until he tires of you. Papa says one must always be looking ahead and not be trapped by details. By “looking ahead” he means thinking of title and wealth, and by “details” he means loyalty and morality. They are for the vulgar, apparently.’
Genny held herself still through this barrage. She felt like a mouse trapped under the floorboards while a cat’s paw groped through the cracks, swiping closer and closer. She no longer liked Lady Sarah. What she felt was very close to revulsion.
No—it was pain. The truth hurt.
‘If you believe this...if you really believe this about Lord Westford...that he would do what you so despise in your father...you should not marry him,’ Genny said.
‘Why not, if every other man in our class would do the same?’
‘Because even if that were true—and I don’t believe it to be true—there are some men...worthy men...who wouldn’t. Don’t you wish for a man who would not dream of doing that? Not even because he respected you, but because he did not wish to hurt you.’
Lady Sarah’s usually cool complexion mottled with sudden harsh colour. Unlike Genny, with her Mediterranean skin, blushing was not Lady Sarah’s friend. Her eyes too had reddened, and Genny’s sympathy sparked again. Lady Sarah and she were not that different. Both were a little lost in their search for safety.
‘You ought not to marry Lord Westford, Lady Sarah,’ she said.
‘I’d be a fool not to. If he offered.’
‘You wouldn’t be happy.’
‘I would be happier than remaining in Papa’s home for ever and ever.’
‘I don’t know... There is something that happens to a person when hope and choice are removed from the table. Even if Lord Westford is not like your father, I’m afraid you would become more like your mother than you would wish if you married him without love. I hope that doesn’t happen to you.’
‘You’re saying this because you want him for yourself.’
‘That is not why I am saying this. But it is true that I don’t wish to see him hurt, and I’m afraid you would both suffer if you married him for the wrong reasons.’
‘You aren’t denying that you want him.’
‘I think we’ve gone beyond that with all this honesty. But I don’t think he will marry anyone—not yet. I think he will return to his ship and his old life the moment his sister weds. He is comfortable there.’
‘Lucky him.’
‘Yes. Now, we should go in to breakfast. I do wish you well, Lady Sarah.’
Lady Sarah gave a slight, unhappy laugh, but did not follow Genny.
At the entrance to the breakfast room the sound of Kit’s low, warm laugh reached her from inside and Genny stopped short.
‘Miss?’ Howich said from behind her in surprise, a large teapot in his hand.
Genny moved out of his way. ‘I have forgotten some...letters I must write, Howich.’
She didn’t wait for him to comment. She needed to escape before anyone saw her looking as shattered as Lady Sarah. She needed to think—alone. Today the guests departed, and tomorrow Kit would leave for Hampshire. After the wedding he would leave altogether, and it might be years and years before she saw him again.
Pain lurched through her like a poorly thrust spear, and she pressed a hand to her sternum. The pain would probably fade. It must—like all pain. And she should be grateful to him for giving her so many memories to hoard. She was grateful.
She just wanted more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kit watched until the ducal carriage was swallowed by the shadow of the beeches and then let the curtain fall back into place with a sigh of relief.
It was finally over.
Except that now the real challenge awaited him.
He was halfway across the library when the door opened and Genny slipped inside, closing it behind her.
‘The Duke and your grandmother have departed for London.’
‘About time. I was afraid he might toss her out of the carriage at the last minute. Please tell me they took Carmine with them?’
She nodded, her dimples appearing and disappearing just as quickly. She was staring at the floor, the crease between her brows warning him that all was not well.
‘What is it, Genny? I don’t think I can bear any surprises at the moment.’
Her chin went up and she shook her head. ‘It is nothing. Merely... Never mind.’
He reached her before she slipped out, easing her back into the room and closing the door again. ‘I didn’t mean to be abrupt. Tell me what it is.’
She was as tense as a topsail in a gale and his heart, already rocky, picked up speed. It was something serious.
‘Is it Julian?’
The words were out of him without thought and she frowned, finally looking up at him.
‘Julian?’
‘Has he...? He’s left, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes, he left this morning.’ She gave a slight, distracted smile. ‘With your letter to the Carrington solicitors in his breast pocket. I don’t know if he thanked you properly, and he probably never will, but he is grateful.’
He didn’t give a damn about Julian’s gratitude or lack thereof, but her tone reassured him. Whatever this was, it wasn’t either a proposal from Julian or her concern about him.
‘Then what? Your sister?’
‘No, no... She is already happily planning our removal to the Dower House.’ She looked around the library, her frown returning. ‘May I still come to the library for books sometimes?’
His much-maligned heart dropped with a wet splat onto the wooden floor. ‘Of course. Whenever you wish. Is that what is bothering you?’
She shook her head, her gaze sliding to the floor again. ‘No. It isn’t bothering me precisely... That is to say, it is... But not... The thing is...’ She took a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I have a request to make.’
‘What request?’ he asked, without much enthusiasm.
‘After Hampshire will you join the Hesperus?’
It was close enough to the truth, so he nodded.
She nodded as well, just once.
‘Where are you sailing?’
‘France and then Italy. Why?’ he ventured.
She raised her chin. ‘I would like to request something of you, Lord Westford.’
‘I’ll make a pact with you, Genny. I shall stop calling you Generalissima if you cease with all this Lord Westford nonsense.’
Her mouth curved and she looked up. ‘Captain Carrington?’
‘Kit. Say it. It rhymes with kiss, in case you were wondering how to pronounce it,’ he said, a trifle testily.
‘It does not rhyme,’ she replied with that swift smile he loved, making his insides clench in confused yearning.
‘If the first word is cut off by the second it does. Shall I demonstrate?’
She swallowed and leaned back against the door, as if the hordes of hell were beating down the other side. As far as he was concerned the hordes were right inside the room, engaged in pitched battle inside him.
‘Pray stop dist
racting me, Kit. This is important.’
He didn’t like the sound of that, but he shrugged and motioned for her to continue.
She gave a sharp huff of resolution and fixed her gaze on the floor once more. ‘Before you sail, I would like to...to spend the night on the Hesperus, Kit. If it is possible. I could make my way to Portsmouth and after the wedding...before you sail...if it is agreeable with you, of course...’ She stopped and then added a little explosively as he remained silent, ‘You said it was honest to ask.’
‘Honest...?’ He woke from his stupor. ‘Yes, it is very honest to ask. But just so I understand... You wish to spend the night on the Hesperus before I sail?’
‘Yes. In your bed.’
‘In my bed? With me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not sleeping, I presume?’
‘Precisely.’ She was now a hot, dusky red, but her expression was as stern as ever.
‘This is rather more than an impulse, Genny.’
‘I am aware of that. But I trust you, and this is something I wish to do. I think... I think you are attracted to me...’
‘You know I am attracted to you.’
She shook her head, as if that was one of life’s mysteries. ‘Then it wouldn’t be distasteful to you.’
He rubbed his hand over his mouth. He’d wanted Genny to throw caution to the winds and this, in inimitable Genny fashion, was as caution-throwing as it came. It just wasn’t enough. Genny discovering her considerable sexuality with him was an intoxicating fantasy on its own. But he wanted...he needed...to know she cared. He wanted her need to be as overpowering as the need he could no longer deny he felt for her.
He wanted her to love him.
That was a rather more serious request than hers, and one neither had any control over in the end. But he could do his damnedest to try and ensure she did.
Genny hurried to fill the silence. ‘I... I didn’t say this for you to feel obliged.’
‘This is not something I would ever do out of obligation, Genny.’
‘Oh, devil take it—I never should have said anything.’
She groped for the doorknob but he flattened his hand against the door. She wasn’t going anywhere yet.
They both started at the jerk of the knob on the other side.
‘Kit?’
Genny was halfway across the room by the time Mary opened the door.
‘There you are, Kit. Where is your jacket? The carriage is waiting. We must leave now if we are to reach them in time for dinner. Oh, Genny—you are here.’ She came forward and enveloped Genny in a hug. ‘I do wish you and Serena could come. It is a sad pity that Peter’s grandparents’ house is so small and his family so big. We should have—’
‘It is quite all right, Mary,’ Genny reassured her.
Mary gave her another hug and picked up Kit’s jacket from where it was slung over the back of a chair.
‘Come along, Kit.’
Kit took the jacket and ushered Mary towards the door. ‘I shall be out directly. Wait for me in the carriage.’
‘But—’
He shut the door on his stepmother. Now it was his turn to lean back against the door, his hand on the knob. Genny stood with her hands clasped before her like a prisoner in the dock.
‘That wasn’t very chivalrous,’ she said, her voice wobbling a little.
‘No. You do choose your moments, Genny Maitland. Unfortunately, we shall have to wait until I return to discuss your request in more detail.’
‘Return...? I thought you were going directly to the Hesperus?’
He didn’t tell her that that plan had flown away with her rescued bee.
‘And leave Mary to travel home on her own after seeing her only child wed and dragged off to the wilds of Leicestershire? That would be even more unchivalrous than shutting the door in her face.’
She finally smiled. There was definitely relief there.
‘So, will you consider my proposal while you are away?’
Every waking moment, most likely, he thought. And probably quite a few unconscious moments as well.
Aloud he said, ‘I will. Will you?’
Her dimples flickered. ‘I already have. Hence my request.’
‘Come here.’
She stepped forward. Stopped. ‘Does that mean you are interested?’
‘That means the carriage is waiting and I require some more material for consideration.’
It was lucky he had the door behind him as support. Genny wrapped her arm about his nape without hesitation, went up on tiptoe and kissed him until they were both breathless. He held her against him, wishing against fate that he could consign Hampshire to hell. Words were burning inside him, but even more than that was the need to hear something from her.
‘Now this is not only going to be a hellishly long drive, but a damned uncomfortable one,’ he muttered against her hair, breathing in orange blossoms.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured against his chest, but her hands caressing his back were utterly unrepentant.
‘Liar.’
‘Kit!’
Mary’s peremptory cry penetrated the door and Genny moved towards the window, straightening her dress.
‘Godspeed, Kit. Give my love to Emily.’
I’d rather keep it for myself, he thought, but nodded, opening the door.
‘Do try not to fall onto anyone or rescue a wounded tiger while I am gone, Genevieve Elisabeth Calpurnia Maitland.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Surely she was seeing things?
No. It was definitely a longboat coming around the edge of the bay.
Genny stood and shaded her eyes to watch the apparition as it turned into the bay.
Her heart set off at a run. She knew that dark head, that broad back. She had no idea where Kit was coming from, but at the moment that didn’t matter. He was coming.
The boat finally rode up onto the shallow sand and Kit jumped out and strode towards her.
‘Well, this is convenient. You’ve saved me a climb.’
‘I was walking,’ she said foolishly. And then, equally foolishly, ‘You and Mary weren’t expected back until tonight. Where did you come from?’
He pointed towards the eastern cliff. ‘The Hesperus is anchored in the deep waters around the head. I’m surprised you didn’t see it from the cliff.’
‘I’ve been down here awhile,’ she said. She didn’t add that she’d been so caught in a brown study she’d likely have missed a hot air balloon landing on Carrington Hall.
‘Hmmm... Brimble?’ Kit turned to one of the sailors who’d stepped out onto the shore with him and handed him the thick sheaf of folded papers he’d pulled from his pocket. ‘Take this up to the house and present it to Howich. When he takes you to Mrs Serena Carrington, inform her that her sister is quite safe with me.’
He held out his hand to Genny.
‘Come.’
She stared at it. At him. At the longboat. ‘Now?’
‘Now. It won’t take long.’
Oh. That didn’t bode well. Well, they would see about that.
He took her arm. ‘I’d best carry you over the surf. Not that I object to seeing what happens to that pretty dress in water, but I’d rather not return you all salt-encrusted when we’re done.’ He picked her up with a cheerful grunt. ‘You are more of a handful than you look, Genny Maitland.’
‘That isn’t a very nice thing to say,’ she objected, and his arms tightened as he walked into the surf.
‘It’s a very nice thing. I happen to enjoy handfuls. In you go.’ He settled her on the bench and hauled himself in, taking her hand as he sat beside her.
The grinning men in the longboat began their rhythmic rowing and she watched the bay recede, the waves hurrying away from them as they rose and fell, the water
turning darker. She was out of her depth in so many more ways than one.
The Hesperus came into view, its sails vivid against the cerulean sky. Perhaps one of her daydreams had become rather too vivid. Perhaps it was the sun...
The longboat pulled up alongside the Jacob’s ladder and Kit helped her to her feet.
‘There is yet time to turn back,’ he murmured. ‘Once aboard you are in my domain once more and must accept the consequences.’
His tone was playful, but she felt the tension beneath it.
‘Would you take me back?’
He paused, her hands in his. ‘Of course. I told you—it is always your choice.’
She nodded and took hold of the Jacob’s ladder. ‘A gentleman would look away while I climb.’
There was relief in his smile. ‘What if you need help?’
‘Then I shall ask for it.’
She did not look back to see if her wishes were being obeyed. Some things were best assumed.
When Kit joined her on deck he looked suspiciously angelic. ‘Come,’ he said again.
This time she didn’t object, but placed her hand in his and followed.
His cabin looked different. Or perhaps she had changed.
A tray with wine and fruit sat on the table. There was also a small wooden box she had not seen before, with painted panels of flowering gardens and a cover inlaid with mother of pearl.
‘Oh, how beautiful!’ she exclaimed, reaching out to touch it.
But he placed a hand on it. ‘Sit down.’
She sat, feeling all at sea. His lightness had flown and he looked distant and rather stern. This definitely did not bode well. But if all he wanted to do was reject her advances, he could have done that on the shore.
‘Did you consider?’ she asked, annoyed at how feeble her voice sounded.
She picked up her glass and set it down again. He did the same.
‘I did.’
‘And what is your answer?’
‘That depends.’
‘On what?
‘I am considering two courses of action at the moment,’ he began, swirling his wine. ‘I could accept your proposal and then leave with the Hesperus for France tomorrow...’
