Название | Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife |
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Автор произведения | Sarah Mallory |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | Mills & Boon Historical |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408916230 |
She flushed. ‘This is not the unexceptional topic you promised me, Captain.’
‘I know, but you are very reserved with me tonight. You are trying to make up your mind whether or not to marry me, is that not so?’
‘Of course not!’ she exclaimed, startled. ‘It is…’ She trailed off. ‘To be truthful with you, yes,’ she admitted.
He stopped and turned to her, catching at her hands. ‘And what is so difficult about that decision, Miss Shawcross?’
He lifted her hand to his lips and began to kiss her fingers, one by one. She watched, transfixed.
‘I, um…’
He lifted her other hand and, when he had finished with her fingers, his lips moved on to her wrist, sending a fiery shock the length of her arm.
‘I cannot think,’ she confessed.
He raised his head and smiled at her. Eve’s fingers were still tingling and she found herself staring at his mouth, wondering at the havoc his lips could cause. The smile in his eyes deepened. He cupped her chin.
‘Sometimes it is best not to think,’ he murmured and gently brought his mouth down upon hers.
It was the lightest of kisses, a mere brushing of lips, but it sent Eve’s senses reeling and as Nick pulled away her face remained upturned, inviting him to kiss her again. He gazed down at her.
‘A young lady should not allow a gentleman to kiss her unless she means to marry him,’ he murmured.
‘Then perhaps you have made my decision for me,’ she replied.
He laughed, pulled her hand back on to his arm and they resumed their stroll.
‘I shall not coerce you into this, Miss Shawcross; it must be your decision.’
‘It is in truth my grandfather’s decision,’ she told him. ‘Or at least, his wish. But your assumption was correct, Captain. He did not mention you were coming.
I should not be surprised by it, however. He always said that one day he would bring home a husband for me.’ She sighed. ‘I never really believed him.’
‘Surely he has not kept you locked away here all these years?’ He sounded slightly shocked and she gave a little gurgle of laughter.
‘Like a princess in a fairy-tale? No, of course not. I have attended assemblies in Makerham village upon occasion. And I went to Tunbridge a few years ago.’
‘Then of course you know all you need to know about the world!’
‘I know enough to realise that I am very happy to remain here at Makerham. Everything I want is here.’
‘Is it? Do you never long to know what is going on outside these walls?’
‘There are the news sheets—’
‘That is not the same! There are towns and cities—whole countries waiting to be explored. Does that thought not fill you with excitement?’
The thought filled Evelina with dread. She stepped away from him to cup a particularly lovely rose between her fingers, breathing in its fragrance while she formulated her answer. Apart from one or two early memories of life with her parents and a few brief years at school, Makerham was the only world she had ever known. Outside was alien and full of danger, like the infection that had carried off her parents. Her life here at Makerham was safe, secure; the thought of her cousin taking possession was something she did not want to consider.
‘I am very happy here,’ she said again.
Nick strolled along beside Evelina, his hands clasped firmly behind his back to prevent them reaching out and pulling her into his arms. He had never known such a glorious summer’s evening; bees hummed around the plants and the scent of lavender filled the air. Then there was Evelina herself; she was beautiful, but there was an air of calm about her, serenity. It was like finding a safe harbour after stormy weeks at sea. When he had sought out Sir Benjamin at Tunbridge Wells he had already formulated his plans; if he needed to marry to obtain his ends, then he was prepared to do his duty, but never had he expected duty to be quite so pleasurable.
He stopped and gently turned her to face him. ‘I understand how much you love Makerham, but could you consider living elsewhere?’
‘I think I must, sir, since the house will pass to my cousin when Grandpapa dies.’
‘That is not quite what I meant. Sir Benjamin brought me here as a prospective husband for you. I am not sure what he has told you about me…’
‘Only that your father was an earl: that is looking pretty high for a baronet’s daughter.’ Her lilting smile jolted his senses. It took all his will-power not to drag her into his arms and cover her face with kisses, but he needed to talk to her.
‘Evelina—Eve, from our discussions this afternoon you know I have not led a blameless life, but I told you that will change when I take a wife. I have a comfortable income and two estates in the north. I can afford to give you a Season in town every year, should you wish it. You will have your own carriage and we could buy a property nearer Makerham, closer to your grandfather, if that is what you want.’
‘Captain Wylder, this is too soon!’
He put a finger against her lips. ‘Perhaps, but I do everything in a hurry, my dear; as soon as I saw you I knew that I wanted to wed you.’ He saw the confusion in her face and stopped. He drew away a little, took a breath and said gently, ‘You need not answer immediately. I merely want you to understand what I am offering you.’
There was a slight shadow in her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘That is all very well, Captain, but I do not understand what I can offer you.’
He hesitated, then said lightly, ‘I believe that you bring with you your mother’s property at Monkhurst.’
She laughed. ‘A rundown house on the edge of Romney Marsh! I love it, and spent some happy times there as a child, but no one has lived there since Mama and Papa died. It is a poor dowry, Captain Wylder. I fear I will get the best of this bargain, sir!’
His spirit soared. She was almost his, he could read it in her eyes. A dizzying happiness shook him. He ran his hands down her arms and caught her fingers.
‘No, Eve, I think I will have a great deal more than I bargained for!’
Eve stared at the dark head bent over her hands. This could not be happening to her; when she was at school she had read novels of handsome knights carrying off damsels in distress, but that was fantasy. Besides, she was not in distress. Or was she? She was twenty-four years old and she had never found anyone she would like to marry, nor was she likely to meet anyone while she lived in such seclusion. Her grandfather was much weaker than he had been even a few months ago. If he should die while she was still unmarried, then what would become of her? The vision of her cousin filled her mind. She had never liked Bernard, sensing in his nature a cruel streak that made her a little afraid of him. And now here was this handsome, dashing sea captain offering her his hand and he came with her grandfather’s blessing. There really was no choice.
Eve realised Nick was looking at her with a steady, unsettling gaze. She needed to say something. ‘How soon do you wish to be married, Captain Wylder?’
Goodness, how matter of fact she sounded.
‘By the end of the month.’
‘The end of the—!’
‘Why, yes, I see no reason to rush into this with a special licence. We have time for the banns to be read in church. We shall be married here, of course. I have no doubt that is what you would