by Aileen Adams
They knew all about Beatrice, having heard the entire story behind Margery’s journey not long after she’d arrived.
The girls had fairly peppered her with questions while the men had stood off to the side, keeping silent but listening to every word.
Phillip folded his arms on the surface of his mahogany desk, looking every inch the concerned laird. The fact that he cared at all made him that much easier to like. He could’ve easily told her to solve her problems on her own.
“I’m sure that a man who owns three ships could arrange something,” he suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
Derek groaned, his head in one hand. “I can’t believe I never thought of it.”
Phillip shrugged. “You’ve had a lot on your mind, haven’t you?”
38
Margery and Derek walked outside, through the heavy door at the front of the manor house, stepping into sunshine once they did.
Margery took a deep breath of the sweet air, looking out along the Grampians and the pines, birch, and spruce which seemed to carpet the landscape from this distance.
When she turned south, she wondered where exactly the dead bodies had fallen. Could she see that place from where she stood? She decided not—and further decided to stop thinking about it. That was the past.
She was standing beside her future.
He looked satisfied, truly pleased and proud.
If only he could look that way every day of his life. If only it were in her power to do that for him, she would. She would devote herself to working alongside him in building the best life they could share.
“What do you think Broc will say when you suggest taking a ship to Thrushwood?” she asked.
“I think he’ll agree it’s a good idea.”
“You do?”
He frowned, taking her arm and drawing her away from the house. There was a pond not fifty yards from the house, and a lovely meadow beside it. They made their way slowly in that direction, still aware of Derek’s healing.
“Why do you sound so dubious?” he asked once they’d put a little distance between the house and themselves, where they could be alone.
“I don’t wish for him to feel as though he’s being told what to do. I’ve already caused enough trouble for him, holding you up in returning here, getting him injured in the woods. You could’ve been killed.”
“That wasn’t your fault. How many times do I have to say it?”
“I’m not speaking of how you feel about what happened. I’m speaking of what Broc must think. The ships will now belong to him, as well, and it will be for the sake of fetching my sister that we’ll make this journey. What if he says he’d rather not?”
“Then, I’ll go on my own.”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
“And why not?” He stopped, facing her with a look of grim determination. “Whether you believe it or not, I’m quite an able sailor.”
“I believe you, but I don’t believe my sister would go anywhere with you, simply because you announce I sent you to bring her back. She’d like as not beat you about the head with a broom.”
“I see the two of you are of a similar temper then,” he laughed.
“I’m serious!” But she had to laugh, too, imagining Beatrice’s reaction to a man such as Derek appearing out of nowhere. “No, you will not go alone. I’ll go with you, naturally.”
“You worked so hard to get away from there…”
“It won’t hurt me to go back for a little bit. Anyhow, I can show you how to get there.”
He pondered this, the two of them continuing on their walk. “I would still rather have Broc with us. Another man at the helm is never a bad thing, and two of us will be able to keep you lasses protected better than only one of us would.”
Another thought occurred to Margery, causing her to stop short.
“What is it?” he asked, eyes widening at what she could only imagine was a stricken expression on her face.
She hardly knew how to express it aloud without sounding as though she were pushing him faster than he wished to go. Would he balk? Tell her she was daft? Or, worst of all, tell her he’d never intended to marry her, that he had only said it to keep her from running away?
Her mouth was so dry, all of a sudden. She swallowed once, then again, wondering if the entire contents of the pond to her back would be enough to help her.
“Out with it,” he urged.
“It’s only... I mean… I don’t know that it would be right…”
He stared at her, brows drawn together, then, as he caught on to her meaning, his face relaxed.
Then, a smile spread from ear to ear.
“You’re concerned about us not being wed,” he murmured, taking her hands in his.
Oh, they were so much larger, so much stronger. Calloused after years of hard work, but gentle. Without him, she would never have believed such a powerful man capable of such gentleness.
“Yes,” she breathed, praying he didn’t laugh at her or walk away.
Riding through the woods was one matter, but riding and sailing and doing even more traveling over land? It was too much. She wanted to travel with her husband, not with a familiar stranger with whom she happened to be in love.
When he pulled her closer, leaning down until their faces were only inches apart, she knew there was nothing to fear.
“I have every intention of marrying you, Margery. I would take you as my wife this very day, if you would consent. However, I’m a patient man. I could wait, if necessary… until tomorrow. But no longer than that.”
The twinkle in his eyes told her he was teasing, but not entirely.
He did want to marry her, and he was all she’d ever wanted without knowing she was allowed to want it.
She dissolved into teary giggles, accepting his kiss before throwing her arms around his neck and nearly strangling him.
He groaned, but pulled her even closer, holding her in his strong, sure arms.
Margery was still giggling softly as she whispered in his ear. “Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after.”
Afterword
I hope you enjoyed A Captain’s Heart! I can’t wait to bring you the next book in this series! A Highland Sailor. Coming Soon!
Sign up for the newsletter to be notified of new releases.
Click on link for
Newsletter
or put this in your browser window:
mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/o3j5x0
Copyright © 2017 by Aileen Adams
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
