“’E’s right,” Ben Rivers rumbled. “Cap’n won’t like you insulting his missus. Nor Nick Black neither.”
“And you don’t want Nick Black on your back, ladies, believe me,” Fetch added, a rather nasty smile playing over his lips.
“The captain—” Mrs. Hay’s voice ended on a gobble as Ben took a step forward.
“Come, Mama.” Mrs. McPherson stood, pulling her mother up beside her. After a loud sniff of disdain, Mrs. Hay allowed herself to be led away, Ben and Fetch stepping aside but keeping matching glares fixed on the ladies until they disappeared from view.
Holly closed her eyes, dragged in a deep breath. Thank you, Lord. She attempted to stand, but her legs wouldn’t budge. After carefully unclenching her hands, she turned toward the twins and their nurses, somehow coaxing her voice into a whisper. “Agnes, Cathy, I’m so sorry you had to witness that. Please take the children upstairs. I will be up shortly.”
She turned to the men, her gaze falling first on Fetch. “I have always been wary of you. I knew you were Nick Black’s spy, but I tolerated you because Mr. Black has been more than good to me, and because Jesse needed someone near his own age. But after today, I welcome you for yourself. You’re more of a man than many twice your age.”
“And Mr. Rivers. Ben.” She offered the giant a rueful smile. “I didn’t want you, swore I didn’t need a guard. And now . . . I truly don’t know what I would have done without you. You too are more than welcome here. I hope you may find life in the country suits you and wish to stay with us forever.”
“Thank’ee, ma’am. ’Twas my pleasure.” Red suffused Ben’s bull-like features as he tugged his forelock. Holly ducked her head to hide a rush of tears.
“I take it there’s been a bit of a problem,” said a voice from the doorway. “I met my grandmother and aunt as they were fleeing the house.”
Chapter 16
It needed only this. And bless Fetch and Ben for holding their ground, though hints of apprehension tugged at their set faces. If ever Holly had needed proof that Ben Rivers had been hired to protect her as well as her children . . . Even against the man paying his wages.
Holly managed a vague wave of her hand, nodding to giant and boy as they eyed her askance. Reluctantly, they shuffled out, Fetch looking back over his shoulder as if to say, You certain sure about this, missus? When Rivers’s broad shoulders cleared the doorway, Holly was horrified to see Mrs. Balfour, Jesse, and Tildy disappearing down the corridor toward the kitchen. Dear Lord, they’d all had her disgrace dinned into their ears by Mrs. Hay’s strident tones. She had never thought herself a coward, but the last year and a half had been unrelenting in its set-downs. And now, she’d truly done it. There was no way out of this coil.
“The children?” the captain asked, surprising her. That he should be concerned about the twins at a time like this . . . Too bad he’d never be able to stretch that concern to their mother.
“Upstairs,” Holly murmured. And, thank God, too young to understand or remember what they’d just heard.
“Shall we take a walk?” Startled, she gazed up at him, eyes wide. If the stream weren’t so shallow, she’d fear he was about to toss her in. Yet he showed no signs of anger. Sorrow perhaps, with a bit of grim about the mouth. She jumped when he shouted, “Jesse!” in what must be the voice he used when giving orders in the teeth of a gale. “Bring the missus’s cloak!”
And then he was guiding her down the corridor, through the kitchen, and across the roughly scythed rear lawn, heading straight for the woods and the stream that meandered along its edge. The stream that was, after all, deep enough to drown her. All he had to do was hold her head under.
Fool, fool, fool! Common sense said he was far too good a man to commit murder, but good men had been known to do terrible things when gripped by rage. And what must he think about her treatment of his closest relatives? Dear God, she was doomed. Even if he only intended to toss her out of his life rather than into the rapidly flowing water.
The captain let go of her arm only after plunking her down on the bench near the bridge. Arms akimbo, he loomed over her, shaking his head. One glance at his horrendous scowl and Holly fixed her gaze on a deep quiet pool where a trout had just snagged a fly, sending concentric circles rippling across the still water.
“Holly?” The captain paused, pacing the length of the bench behind her then back again. “Hell and the devil!” he roared. “It shouldn’t have come to this. I’m sorry, deeply sorry. I had no idea they’d descend on you like that. I’ve sent them off with instructions not to come back until they’re invited. And when we do meet, they’re to keep civil tongues in their heads.”
“It won’t work. They’ll never accept me.”
“Then my grandmother will never have the joy of seeing her great-grandchildren.”
Holly sat very still, her sharp wits as dormant as the now quiet pool at the edge of the stream. Great-grandchildren. The captain’s—Royce’s—children. Their children. He was not throwing her out? She and the twins still had a home? Well, had she not always thought the man mad? ’Twas high time he saw the light, even if it meant rubbing his nose in what should have been obvious. “You know quite well marriage to me is too high a price to pay,” she declared. “Even for Venturer.”
A large, hard body settled onto the bench beside her. “Listen to me, Holly, and listen carefully. Yes, I seized Nick Black’s offer with both hands, but after my mind adjusted to the concept of marriage, I realized I liked the idea. A woman to come home to, a ready-made family, and someday children of my own. I liked the picture I saw in my mind. And I liked what I saw when I met you. Yes, you were big as a house and worn down with worry, but nothing could rob you of your courage or your beauty.”
He reached out, covering her hand with his. “On our wedding day—when I saw you walking toward me, I couldn’t believe my good fortune. And I assure you my fantasies during my last voyage were enough to make even a sea captain blush.”
For the first time during this remarkable speech, Holly raised her head and returned his steady, penetrating gaze.
“And then I came home and discovered the reality of a woman who’d had to cope all by herself. No, no, don’t protest. You had a stout roof, food on the table, and servants, but the responsibility was yours, and for the first time I realized how dreadfully much a sailor must ask of his wife. And . . . well, I was drowned in guilt, ashamed of unrealistic dreams that were little more than air dreams dancing among pink, fluffy clouds.”
The image was so absurd, Holly giggled. Men were such strange creatures.
“Indeed,” Royce rumbled, a smile tugging at his lips. “I was little better than a wide-eyed cabin boy his first time with a woman.” He pulled her to him, his arm encircling her shoulders. “But I got over it. And except for the inevitable struggle for power, I think we’ve done rather well adjusting to this new life. If I can get you back into my bed, that is.” He peered at her, his far-seeing blue eyes reflecting the brilliance of the sun as a quizzical smile tilted his lips.
He was so close Holly could catch the scent of him, a masculinity so strong that it penetrated the powerful odor of greening grass and budding trees, of mud and a faint whiff of the city drifting on the spring breeze. Dear Lord, why had she fought so hard for independence when this man—this strong, honorable, incredible man—was offering her everything?
So honorable he was sticking to his bargain, no matter what he had to say or do?
He tilted up her chin. “Holly, you idiot. I may have fallen in love with a phantom during those long days at sea. But when I saw you at the door, all hot and bothered, clutching both babes, and the house at sixes and sevens . . . something went crack inside me. Fantasy exploded, and I discovered reality was much more to my taste. Daft girl! Did you think I cared more for relatives I seldom see than I do for you? I love you, woman. No other female would ever suit. I want to know you’re here waiting for me. And if we’re blessed, there’ll be another babe or two ove
r the years.” He gripped her shoulders in his hands, his blue eyes revealing an anxiety she had not thought possible in a man so confident and strong. “Please tell me that’s what you want too.”
Words jumbled in Holly’s throat, even as her heart threatened to burst with the sudden surprise of love. She could only throw herself on his chest and hang on. The man was clearly mad, but who was she to argue with the all-powerful, well-respected captain of the Venturer?
She hadn’t told him . . . hadn’t said the words. Fighting past the great welling of emotion that threatened to stopper her mouth, Holly gasped, “I do want it. Though God knows I’ll never be the biddable wife you wanted, and the shine is quite gone from the courtesan—”
A rumble of laughter cut her off. “Silly goose. Whoever said I wanted a biddable wife? I’d be out the door in a trice. Biddable is boring, my dear. Sea captains need spice to their lives, and you surely manage that.”
Still hard against his chest, Holly eyed him askance. Was he truly laughing at her? The beast.
“And as for the shine being off the courtesan . . . Good God, woman, do you never look in your mirror? You are the most beautiful, enticing, glorious creature I have ever seen. I am astounded daily that you are mine.”
“You are funning me!”
“Impossible female!” He cut off her sputtering response by closing his mouth over hers, his arms tightening around her in a grip that promised never to let her go.
Hidden from the cottage by a drop of the land toward the river, they remained on the bench by the river until the sun slid behind the trees and the wind took on enough chill to penetrate their shockingly passionate interlude. As they walked back to the house, however, Holly tucked tight beneath the captain’s arm, every pair of eyes in the cottage was fixed on them. At a second-story window Tildy looked at Agnes Penrod, and both women sighed. Mrs. Balfour blew her nose, while Jesse shook his head, thinking the whole household gone mad. Fetch gave Cathy a squeeze and whispered in her ear, “That there’s you and me one day.”
Down by the river, well hidden behind a large tree trunk, Ben Rivers smiled. He’d been there all along, of course. Well, mostly with his back turned to the bench—scouting the territory, now wasn’t he? Couldn’t let nuthin’ happen to the cap’n and his missus, now it looked like mebbe they wasn’t going to kill each other.
Dear Holly . . .
Dear Wife . . .
Dearest Holly . . .
My Dearest Girl . . .
You’ll be receiving a shocking number of letters via the next ship out of Boston. For writing brings you close to me. I sit here, pen in hand, and feel your presence. I picture you with a babe on each knee . . . and wonder if we managed to add another during my all-too-short stay. Oh, the Hell of having to wait until Charleston or Jamaica to hear from you . . .
Dearest Royce,
Andrew took his first steps today, and Anne is in a great pout of jealousy. I expect she will manage to best him by tomorrow. All is well, though there is a great gap in the household which only you can fill. I find it quite terrible to have no one to quarrel with. Or to warm my bed.
The space you see above is filled with the great sigh that just welled up from my toes. How fortunate we have such stunning memories to fill the long nights.
And now, dearest captain, my captain, I have saved the best for last. I hope—I think—we may have made that third child for the family you want so much. That I too want so much. A winter babe, I fear, with no hope you will be home for the birthing. But never fear, I’ll have Mrs. Tanner, the mid-wife from Boone Farm, to see me through. Be assured all will be well.
Your love, Holly
All well? Hell and the devil! Women died in childbirth all the time.
Not Holly. If she could birth twins, she should fly through the birth of one.
If it was only one.
Royce plunged his head into his hands and swore with all the variety and fervor for which sailors were notorious, for the first time questioning his decision to live his life at sea. When he owned Venturer, by God, he’d take Holly with him.
With three babes hell bent on falling overboard with the first tilt of the deck? Royce groaned. Perhaps after Venturer’s first voyage as flagship of Kincade Shipping, he should let Thomas take her out while he concentrated on building the business. Oh, how the bloody woman would gloat when she found out she’d won. That life with Holly, Andrew, Anne, and his unborn child had become more important than that mistress of so many years, Venturer.
Vanquished, by God, by a dark-haired, dark-eyed courtesan of the first stare. What a pair they were. The upright Scots Presbyterian sea captain and the woman who had once been a tavern wench of questionable virtue.
Royce re-read his wife’s most recent letter, a soft smile replacing his look of amazement at the news he was to be a father. If only he could summon a magical wind to fill Venturer’s sails and fly him home . . . But no one knew better than he and Holly that life was full of surprises, not all of them good. Time to accept reality. And pray.
When Venturer tied up at Nick Black’s dock in London, Royce put her into Thomas Blount’s capable hands and bounded off the ship, hailing a hackney, exhorting the driver to a spanking pace, northwest to Bloomsbury. He had received other letters from Holly but none since the birth that must have been close to two months since. Time enough for a letter to reach the West Indies, but if one had been sent, it had missed him.
Heart racing, he paid the jarvey and strode up the gravel path. The door opened, his eyes misted. For there she was, clutching a tiny babe. His babe. With Andrew and Anne on each side of her, gazing at him with huge eyes, unsure of the stranger coming up the path.
And then she was in his arms, the babe between them, as she whispered, “It’s a boy. And if you dare take him to sea, I swear I’ll shoot you!”
Royce’s laugh filled the room, rolling over the members of his household, all gathered to welcome him home. Nick Black, I owe you. Life is good.
“Good God, woman, are you still suffering the glooms?” Darius Wolfe, his temper close to the breaking point, glared at the love of his life. Even candlelight could not soften the devastation suffusing his Jewel’s delicate face.
“I saw them in the park today. Holly and her brood, with the captain driving a fine new barouche.”
Carefully side-stepping the ever-present bone of contention between them, Darius offered, “I hear he’s set up an office for Kincade shipping. His next voyage is to be his last. Royce Kincade, family man. Who would have guessed?”
“Your bosom friend, Nick Black, it would seem.” Juliana’s sharp retort pierced the tension that hung over their every meeting like a shroud.
“A wiser man than I,” Darius agreed with deceptive gentleness. “For he has managed to marry his love, as has the captain, and Ashford. In fact, your students have done remarkably well for themselves, my Jewel. The question is, when do you plan to sample a bit of happiness for yourself?”
“I am more than content with my life,” Juliana asserted, her amber eyes hard as topaz.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Darius murmured “A babe’s the only thing to wipe away that hangdog look. And I know exactly how to go about acquiring one.”
A shiver rippled up her spine as his quizzical smile dissolved into determined intent. This time, at long last, Darius was not going to take no for an answer.
~ * * * ~
About the Author:
Believing variety is the spice of life, I also write Romantic Suspense and Mystery (please see the list below.)
The Golden Beach (GB) books are not a classic series. Some have connected characters; others, only a connected setting, a very real Florida Gulfcoast resort and retirement community whose name has been changed because the residents would like to keep its uniqueness a deep, dark secret.
I am always delighted to hear from my readers. I can be contacted at [email protected]. My website is http://www.blairbancroft.com/. My blog: http://mosaicmoments.blo
gspot.com/
Twitter: @blairbancroft
Blair’s books currently online:
Regency Darkside novellas (in order)
Belle
Cecilia
Holly
Juliana (2015)
Regency Gothics
Brides of Falconfell
The Mists of Moorhead Manor
The Regency Warrior Series (in order)
The Sometime Bride
Tarleton’s Wife
O’Rourke’s Heiress
Rogue’s Destiny
Other Regencies & Historicals
Lady of the Lock
The Courtesan’s Letters
The Temporary Earl
The Harem Bride
A Season for Love
A Gamble on Love
Lady Silence
Steeplechase
The Last Surprise (Christmas novella)
Mistletoe Moment (Christmas novella)
Airborne - The Hanover Restoration
The Captive Heiress (medieval)
Contemporary Romance
Florida Knight* (GB)
Love At Your Own Risk
*a story of the SCA
Romantic Suspense & Mystery
Florida Wild
The Art of Evil
Paradise Burning (GB)
Shadowed Paradise (GB)
International Thrillers
Limbo Man
Orange Blossoms & Mayhem (GB)
Holly Page 12
