by Kruger, Mary
“Of course it’s why I left! I wasn’t going to stand tamely by and watch while you married another woman!”
“I wasn’t going to marry her! I admit my mother would have liked me to, but—good God.” He broke off, staring at her. “My good God.”
“What?”
“Anne.” Taking her hand, he led her back to the rocks and sat beside her. “Who told you I was betrothed?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Don’t you?” His voice was gentle. “It was my mother, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” She stared up at him. “Yes.”
“She told me you were only flirting with me, that all you wanted from me was my title and you really preferred Freddie.”
“Oh, Giles—”
“It wasn’t true, was it?”
“No.” She swallowed, hard. “You weren’t already betrothed.”
“No.” They gazed at each other across the wreckage of seven years. “It was you I wanted to marry, Anne. In fact, I—” He broke off. “You wouldn’t have married Freddie, would you? You would have stayed here and married me.”
“Yes.” It hadn’t had to happen. Not her heartbreak when she had believed Giles loved another, not her life with Freddie. And not Jamie, the only good thing to come from that life. “It’s past, Giles.”
“Is it?” He gripped her hand. “Anne, you’re here now. We still feel something for each other. You can’t deny it.”
“It’s too late.” Gently she withdrew her hand. “We’ve both changed, Giles. We’re not the people we were then, and I have no desire to marry again.”
Giles’s eyes sharpened suddenly. “Am I to believe that you were so happy with Freddie that you couldn’t think of marrying anyone else?”
“No, of course not. But why should I remarry? I have far more freedom now than I ever had.”
“And yet, both times I’ve held you, you’ve responded to my kiss.”
Anne looked away. “I’m attracted to you, Giles. I won’t deny it.” She rose and walked a few paces away. “But that’s all it is. Probably all it ever was. If what we had could be destroyed by one small lie, how strong could it have been?”
“You were young.” He rose, too, and she moved farther away. “You made a mistake.”
“And I’m not about to make another. I like being independent, Giles. I’m my own person. I don’t want to change that.”
“Independence can be lonely, Anne.”
She turned, and the smile she gave him was sad. “So can marriage. I—”
“Mommy!” Jamie called. “Look what I found!”
“What is it, Jamie?” Anne walked toward him, not certain whether to be annoyed, or relieved, by this interruption.
“A conch shell, Mommy. Listen.”
“Why, so it is.” Anne took the shell from him, tracing the jagged edges where it had broken, stroking the satiny pink interior. “This has travelled a long way.”
“Do you think Cook will make conch soup, Mommy?”
“Conch soup?” Giles said, coming up behind Anne, who started at the sound of his voice. She was skittish, like an untried colt, and the thought that he made her feel that way was depressing. Not when he felt so much more, when he wanted her to feel so much more. What had been done to them in the past had hurt them, but they could get past it. He knew they could, if she would let them. And there lay the problem, Anne’s touchy independence. What had happened in Anne’s marriage to leave her that way? “What is conch soup?”
“No, lovey,” Anne said, handing Jamie back his treasure and ignoring Giles. “I don’t think Cook even knows what it is.”
“We could tell her, couldn’t we, Mommy? Cook at home knows how to make it.”
“I know, lovey.”
“When are we going home, Mommy?” Jamie asked, catching at her hand and at Giles’s, and walking between them.
“Soon, pet.” Anne’s eyes met Giles’s. “There are some things to settle, but soon, I think.”
“Don’t you like it here, Jamie?” Giles said.
“It’s all right. I like Jamaica better.”
“You have family here, Jamie. There are good schools, too.”
“School!” Jamie made a noise. “I don’t want to go to school.”
“Jamie, perhaps there’s another conch shell,” Anne said. “Do you think you could look?”
“Yes, Mommy. ‘Bye!” Releasing their hands, he ran off.
Giles stared after him in amusement. “I would never have spoken to my father in such a way,” he said.
“You’re not his father.” Anne rounded on him, her eyes stormy. “Don’t ever try to turn Jamie against me, Giles.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do. You may be his guardian, but I am his mother. I don’t care what the law says. He is my son, not yours. I will not allow you to use him against me, and I will not let you take him away from me.”
“Anne,” Giles protested, as she stalked away. “Annie, I wouldn’t—”
“Stay away from me, Giles Templeton!”
“Annie, I’m not Freddie.”
That stopped her. Good heavens, what was that supposed to mean? He couldn’t possibly know.
She turned to see him watching her, looking confused and contrite and—could it be?—loving, all at once. Damn the man, Anne thought, walking back to him, though a moment before being near him was the last thing she had wanted. Why did he always have this effect on her?
“Thank heavens you’re not like him!” Her voice was artificially bright. “At least you can hold your liquor.”
“Annie.” He sounded mildly reproving. “You do know I want what’s best for you and Jamie?”
“I know. ‘Tis your duty.”
“And what is so wrong with that?”
I don’t want to be just duty to you! She shrugged, her smile wistful. “Come, we’ll never settle this. Why do we not just go on as we are? As friends?”
Friends! Giles thought. What had he done that was so wrong he deserved that? “Very well. Jamie!” he called, releasing Anne’s arm. “Do you know what those are?”
Jamie tossed a scornful look in the direction Giles pointed. “Bathing machines. Boring.”
“Boring?” Giles turned to Anne as she came up to them, looking amused. “Is that why you haven’t gone bathing this summer, Anne?”
“Among other reasons,” she said, imperturbably.
“Anyone who has to use a bathing machine is a sissy,” Jamie said.
“Jamie!”
“It’s true. At home we go right in the water, don’t we, Mommy?”
Giles’s smile was knowing as he looked at Anne. “Now that is something I would like to see.”
A slow flush spread from Anne’s throat to her face. “Then take a room on the Marine Parade and use a spyglass to watch ladies bathing, as the young bucks do,” she snapped. “Such a civilized country this is.”
Giles allowed himself a smile. “Am I to believe, then, that everything is better in Jamaica?”
Anne didn’t return the smile. “Just about everything, yes.”
“Would it be a waste of my time to try to change your mind?”
“I’ve no reason to change it, Giles.”
“I see.” Their eyes caught, and held. “Annie, I—”
“Halloo!” Felicity called from down the beach, and they turned. “You should have come along, it was a glorious sail.”
Giles looked down at Anne, and then offered her his arm. “Was it? Yet you came in earlier than I expected.”
“The wind came up and it got rough,” Mr. Seward said, handing Susan, her face very pale, out of the boat with great care. “Too rough for the ladies.”
“Oh, but it was wonderful,” Beth exclaimed, looking up at Thomas with sparkling eyes. “We went so fast, it almost felt like flying. I didn’t want to come in.”
Giles and Anne fell into step with the others as they climbed back up to the Marine Parade, Jamie lagging behin
d. “Perhaps we should have gone with them,” Giles said, his voice low, and Anne glanced away, her heart heavy. More had happened between her and Giles just now than a simple walk. A great deal had been decided, almost without words, and the future was set. Nothing would ever be quite the same again.
Life had changed vastly for Beth since coming to Brighton. It wasn’t just that she attended the social events that had once been denied her, or that she could now hold her own in any fashionable gathering. It was that she finally had freedom, to dress as she chose, to go out as she chose, since Mama seemed to prefer her own company these days, and, most important of all, to think as she chose. She had her own opinions on things, and she was rather surprised to find they were strong. She wanted her own life, her own family, and, if her thoughts centered around a certain man who had made her dream of things previously unimagined, that was her concern. Life was quite different from the narrow, sheltered world at Tremont Castle, where once all she had desired was a mild flirtation with the vicar. Now she wanted much, much more.
Accompanied by her maid, she set off toward Donaldson’s lending library, glad that the hour of the fashionable promenade was past and she needn’t speak to anyone. The weather was not so fine as it had been; clouds were scudding in from the sea, and the wind was brisk. The air was bracing, though, and smelled of salt. Irresistibly she was reminded of last week’s sailing expedition, and the moment when the boat had heeled and she had lost her balance. Had Thomas not been there to catch her she might have suffered a nasty fall, but for just a moment his strong arms had closed around her. For just that moment she had let herself imagine what it would be like to be held thus forever, to share his dreams and his visions, to have children with him. That last thought, making her blush, had made her straighten, assuring him that she was quite all right, thank you. She hadn’t forgotten it, though, that special, magic moment. When she looked in Thomas’s eyes, she could see that he still remembered it, too.
Thomas was already waiting for her at Donaldson’s when she walked in, though he betrayed his eagerness only by a quick glance at her. Beth’s heart beat faster at the sight of him, so handsome in his uniform. Casually, as if she hadn’t been waiting all morning for just this moment, she strolled down the aisle toward him, where he stood at a table, leafing idly through a book. “Good morning, Lieutenant Bancroft.”
“Good morning, Lady Elizabeth. Beth,” he added in a low voice, for her ears, only. “You look lovely today.”
Beth blushed. “You shouldn’t say such things, sir,” she said, though her heart wasn’t in the reproof.
“Perhaps not. Not when there are others to hear.”
“Is that a good book, sir?”
Thomas glanced down at the book in his hand. “Who the devil knows?” he said, and set it down with a bang.
“Thomas!” she whispered. “Everyone is looking at us.”
“No, they’re not.” He sounded amused. “Everyone else is too busy with their own flirtations.”
“I shouldn’t have come. If my mother hears of this—”
He sighed. “Beth, I thought we’d settled this.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Hammond-Smythe.” Beth gave the older woman a bright smile as she passed by, and then returned to her perusal of her book. “I think I will take this, after all.”
“Allow me to carry it for you, ma’am.”
“Why, thank you, sir.” Beth smiled up at him, and was lost. Again it was as it had been in the boat, as if only they two existed. Beth had never felt anything quite like it in her life. It was frightening. It was exhilarating, and she wanted it never to end.
It was Thomas who broke the moment, clearing his throat and stepping back. “Let us pay for this, ma’am. Might I accompany you home?”
“Why, yes, sir.” Beth’s voice was light. “I’d like that.”
“So would I,” he muttered under his breath, and a shiver ran down Beth’s spine. Never had anyone affected her quite like this. It was enough to make her believe that all her dreams could come true.
Outside, Thomas offered her his arm. She walked alongside him, his height and the strength of his arm making her feel deliciously feminine. She felt as if she were on the edge of something tremendously exciting and wonderful, and she wanted to let herself go, she wanted to soar, secure in the knowledge that Thomas would always be there to catch her.
“I thought we had that particular matter settled,” Thomas said, breaking into her thoughts.
Beth looked up. “What matter?”
“Your mother.”
“She doesn’t approve of you, Thomas, but—”
“Because I am a younger son? Haven’t you told her—”
“Please, must we quarrel like this? We so seldom see each other, and never alone.” She glanced back over her shoulder. Her maid, trailing along behind them, was watching them avidly, but she would be discreet; she had been with Beth for years.
“I begin to think we never will be alone. Good morning.” He nodded at an acquaintance passing them on horseback as they strolled along the Marine Parade. To their right was the sea, a dark wine color today under the lowering skies. “When you’ve seen what life can be like, the freedom from restraint, doing what one wants to do—”
“And yet you’re in the army,” she pointed out, gently.
“Of course.” He sounded surprised. “What else could I do? But not forever, dearest. Someday this cursed war will be over and we can be together.”
Beth’s breath caught in her throat. “Is—that what really what you want?”
“Yes.” He stopped and looked down at her. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, oh yes! But, Thomas.” She took his arm and they strolled again, closer together this time. “How long will the war go on? It seems forever.”
“I’ve been thinking on that, Beth. There’s no need for us to wait until it’s over.”
“Thomas.”
“Marry me, Beth. Now. We’ll be happy, I promise.”
“Oh, Thomas.” Beth’s smile was wistful. Suddenly she, who had led so sheltered a life, felt infinitely older than he. Couldn’t he see the problems ahead of them? “Why me, Thomas? Is it because I am the daughter of a duke?”
“Don’t say that!” He caught her by the shoulders, making her gasp. “It is an insult to you and to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, meekly. “But—”
“Making me sound like a damned fortune-hunter,” he said, and stormed off, grasping her hand.
“Thomas, please slow down. I cannot keep up with you.”
He stopped abruptly, and she stumbled against him. “I love you, Elizabeth Templeton. I love your sweetness and your beauty. I love your courage in defying everything you’ve been taught, and I love the woman inside of you who is a lot bolder and more passionate than you know.”
Beth blinked. “What?”
“Ah, sweetheart.” The back of his fingers brushed her cheeks. “Did I scare you? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to. But when you’re in the army you realize how precious life is.”
“I’m not beautiful, Thomas. And I’m not bold.”
“Bold enough to be seen with me in public,” he argued.
Beth glanced quickly around. They had come a fair distance along the cliff edge and had already passed the Royal Crescent, the easternmost houses in the town. Bystanders were few and far between on a day many would consider cold and raw. Beth, though, was no longer aware of the weather. “I can’t seem to help it. I want to be with you. Oh, but Thomas!” She grasped his hand, and he brought hers to his mouth to kiss it. “Can you not see the problems? You don’t know my mother. I’m sure, given time, she’d come to like you, but she is so concerned with family tradition and honor that she won’t approve.”
“You’re of age, Beth. In any event, isn’t it your brother’s approval I need?”
“Yes, but—”
“And I’ve the feeling he likes me.”
“He does. But, oh, Thomas, that isn’t what worri
es me! If I defy my mother it will hurt her. I love her, Thomas. I don’t want her to be hurt.”
“I know that,” he said, surprising her, “and I honor you for it. Sometimes, though, Beth, life forces us to make hard choices. Beth.” His voice was low. “Will you marry me?”
Chapter Seventeen
Beth closed her eyes. Marrying Thomas would bring with it a great many difficulties. A life without him, though, was not to be borne. “Yes.”
“Capital!” He caught her up in his arms, swinging her around, and she squealed with delight. “That’s capital, Beth.”
“Thomas!”
“You have made me the happiest man on earth.” His face grew grave, his eyes studying her, and suddenly she knew what was coming, though it was nothing she’d ever before experienced. Her heart began to pound harder, her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and her face tilted up, like a flower to the sun. Without thought that they were in a public place, not caring who might see and report back to her mother, Beth willingly gave her lips to him, fleetingly thinking of all the romances she had read and this one, climactic moment. And it was all she had ever thought it would be, it was more, his warm lips pressing on hers, her own tingling, returning the kiss, while the blood sang in her veins and her limbs felt weak. She, shy, plain Beth Templeton, was loved. Almost she believed she was the bold, beautiful woman he thought her.
“My God.” Thomas pulled away, looking down at her with dazed eyes. “You bewitch me, woman.”
“Good,” she said, surprising both of them.
He grinned and released her, though he kept his arm around her shoulder as he swung her around, back toward town. “Don’t tempt me. Any more of that and we’ll be in serious trouble.”
“I don’t care.” She snuggled her arm through his and smiled as they passed her maid, who smirked and dropped a quick curtsy. She had been kissed at last, and at last she felt like a woman.
“I do. I don’t wish to have your brother calling me out to protect your honor.” He smiled down at her. “I’ll talk to him, shall I?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling shyly up at him. She felt light and young and free, so free, and all because of the man beside her. All would be well. The future would be theirs.
