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Barbara Metzger (29 page)

BOOK: Barbara Metzger
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First, his man Macelmore met him at the dock and filled his ears with tidings that almost made the captain weigh anchor and head back to sea. Then a liveried footman asked if some nob could come alongside. Barnaby had no chance to regain his land legs before the Earl of Marden came calling at Cameron Street. The earl was impressive, for a civilian: big and strong and confident. Barnaby liked the cut of his sails, but he thought Marden’s loose clothes could have a better fit. The man spoke briefly, eloquently, and to the point. Not tacking from side to side, the earl ran head on into the wind, and Barnaby liked that, too. He did not like what the man had to say, though.

Before the captain could look around for a belaying pin, which he would not have found, although an ugly vase was handy, Marden took full responsibility for the tangled rig. He meant to do right by both Athena and Troy, who was not the captain’s ward. In Beecham’s estimation, Marden did not have the desperate look of a man condemned to walk the gangplank, but seemed eager to wed the captain’s niece. He did not care about her dowry, Marden said, trying to convince Barnaby of his bona fides, and would set it aside, whatever the sum was, for his and Athena’s daughters. Marden meant to provide for his sons on his own, he said. The earl went on to state that he would be generous in the settlements, so Athena would be protected even if he died young and soon and without the heir his estate required.

What more could a bachelor uncle ask than to see his ward so fortuitously, fortunately, and fortune-filled wed—except a flea in the ear of the Navy brass about a promotion to admiral, with a fleet of ships of his own. It wouldn’t have to be a large fleet, either.

Ian promised to see what he could do about convincing the Navy, and Captain Beecham promised to see what he could do about convincing Athena.

But first, the captain had to get past Lady Marden. The earl’s mother waylaid him before he could send the niffy-naffy butler after his kin.

The countess was the kind of female the captain admired: full-bodied and full of spirit. She wouldn’t blow over in a gale, and she wouldn’t take sauce from anyone. She might hold a scrap of lace to her temple, and let out a sigh here and there, but she was as strong as the wooden figurehead on his ship, and just as bonny.

Where Marden went on about honor, his mother expounded on the social facts of London life. Honor had nothing to do with a gal’s actions, she explained to the captain over a hearty tea and fancy cakes, and everything to do with her prospects. It was the
ton
’s perception of her conduct, not any wrong Athena had necessarily committed, that made marriage mandatory. Otherwise, his niece would be disgraced and his sickly nephew left to the Rensdales’ begrudging care. The countess’s son would be labeled a feckless flirt, and she herself would hang her head in shame that she had raised such an unconscionable cad. Why, she might go into a decline, her health being too uncertain for such…such anxiety-fraught events. Last night’s happenings had sent her into a positive quake, although she had slept through Rensdale’s actual arrival.

The woman was wolfing down every macaroon on the plate, having finished the cucumber sandwiches. Beecham did not think she would expire from a nervous disorder any time soon, but he did not wish to chance such a fine female’s distress.

The captain decided to speak with Rensdale first. Athena’s half-brother had never been one of his favorites, from when he was impolite to Barnaby’s sister at her own wedding. Still, he was younger then, and in poor straits now. The captain decided not to tear a strip off him for taking such slipshod care of the younger Renslows. Not yet, anyway, if this argle-bargle could be resolved to the captain’s satisfaction.

Rensdale gave his opinion as best he could, to both captains. The rudesby was still seeing double from getting concussed. He could not walk without falling over, and he could not touch his own nose. He could whimper and whine, though, blaming everything on Athena, because he’d have been safe back in Derby if she was not such a flighty, foolhardy female.

The captain left Rensdale’s bedchamber, scratching his beard. The clunch had been hit on the head with a brick, and Troy had been shot and knocked off a horse. War was looking less dangerous.

Troy was thrilled to see his uncle, and the book on celestial navigation Barnaby had brought. The captain had given up plans for making the lad into a sailor, but still had hopes of expanding the boy’s knowledge. He had certainly expanded Troy’s vocabulary when he heard about Rensdale’s plans to send him to a sanatorium if Athena did not wed the earl. Barnaby thought he might have Rensdale keelhauled after all. No one was going to cast his nephew overboard just because he could not walk right. The captain had a peg leg of his own, and that never kept him from the quarterdeck.

Then it was time to see his niece.

There were hugs and kisses and laughter and tears. Athena wept a little, too.

In the two years since the captain had been at sea this time, Athena had gone from a skinny little girl to a lovely young woman, the image of his beloved sister. No wonder Marden wanted to marry her.

“No, lassie, I can’t keep you and your brother with me. Shipboard is no place for a gentle miss or a tender lad, if Rensdale let me take him. And I would not feel right, leaving you alone in London with only Macelmore to protect you. This place is worse than an unmarked channel for perils. Sharks and barracudas all over, whirlpools and riptides, and now you’ve run aground. Lord Marden told me everything.’’

“Everything?”

“Aye, how you came to be here and all.”

“He told you about the kisses?” she asked, her voice rising to a squeal.

“No, the dastard didn’t mention any blasted kisses! I’ll have him flogged for that!”

“No, Uncle. It was nothing really. That is, they weren’t.”

“The devil you say! Now I see what Lady Marden meant about your needing to marry.”

“But what if I don’t want to?” she asked.

“Did you like his kisses?”

Athena studied the tortoiseshell combs her uncle had brought her. “Yes.”

“Well, he is a braw lad, so his looks cannot be offensive to you. You don’t mind that he’s as big as a barge, do you?”

“Oh no, I find him quite attractive. And he is not fat at all, for all his size.”

“And not too old?”

“Younger men seem shallow to me.”

“Then, my girl, I see no reason why you shouldn’t marry him. The chap is rich, but he is generous with his blunt. He’s a powerful aristo, but using his authority to good effect. Says he’ll see about sending more funds to the ships, for repairs and supplies. Seems good to his mother, keeps an excellent kitchen, and holds to his honor. Both of your brothers think he’s top of the trees. What more do you want?”

Athena rubbed her finger along the toothed side of the comb, making it sing. “I want him to love me.”

The captain was in over his head. He stroked his beard, then he stroked her hand. “Are you sure he doesn’t? He seemed dead set on wedding you.”

“Only because he is honorable and generous and cares about his family name. He doesn’t want to marry me, he feels he has to.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, missy. With his blunt and influence, he could find another solution. Besides, a lot of marriages start off with less.”

“And end with less. I could not bear years of seeing him leave me to spend time with his mistresses.”

“I could threaten to have him impressed if he strays. Mac knows the crews who gather up new recruits.”

She smiled. “You cannot kidnap an earl into the Navy.”

“But I could have him beaten to an inch of his life if he makes you unhappy.”

“I do not know if he can help himself.” She lowered her voice as if imparting a great confidence. “He is a rake, you know.”

The captain knew all about Marden, from his man Macelmore. In his opinion, a little experience made a man a better lover to a new bride, but Barnaby was used to rough-edged sailors onboard ship, not demure young ladies in a drawing room. “I don’t think you can hold a man’s past against him, from when you hadn’t met,” he said.

“That’s what he said, too. That his past has no bearing on the future.”

“There you go, then. Man’s honest with you, which is better than most. The real question, though, is do you love him? Seems you’ve been doing the hornpipe around the mizzen, missy. If you hate him, I’ll hire you a chaperone, or buy a place in the country for you and a paid companion. Not the life I’d have chosen for my only sister’s gal, no husband, no babes of your own, but I cannot retire from the Navy now, not while we are at war.”

“Oh, I would never ask that of you. The Navy is your life.”

“No, I mean to hand in my papers as soon as we get the Corsican devil in chains. But till then, I’d rather see you in the hands of a gentleman than out on your own. What kind of guardian would I be, leaving you afloat in this sea of shoals?”

“You are an excellent guardian, Uncle. The best a girl could wish for.”

“You could wish for one in town, or a gentleman with a wife who could introduce you to scores of bachelors to choose from, but the compass did not turn in that direction. None of which answers my question. Do you love the lubber or not?”

“I…I don’t know. That is, I find him everything admirable, and I want to be with him, and I like how his mouth curves up on one side in a smile before the other. I enjoy his conversation, and think his brown eyes are like pools of chocolate that make me warm to my toes when he looks at me just so. He smells wondrously of lemon and spice, and he pretends my singing is not awful and he—”

The captain held up his hand. “But you don’t know if you love him?”

Athena smiled. “I love him.”

Her uncle let out a sigh and sat back in his chair, patting her hand. “Then marry him, lass. Nothing will make him love you more than your love for him, if he does not already. Besides, how will you know if you don’t try? You know you’ll be lonely without him, don’t you?”

“So lonely I could die, if I never saw him again.”

“Then take the chance, Attie. Hold your nose and jump in feet first, I always tell my sailors when we are in safe, shallow water. If you sink, I’ll fish you out, but you just might touch bottom and float back up, or swim to some beautiful shore. You’ll never know what you might miss if you don’t take the leap.”

*

“Will you marry me?”

“It would be my honor and my pleasure.”

“Are you sure?” Athena asked.

Ian took her hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss her fingers. “I could not be more sure. Although I was hoping for flowers and a ring, perhaps a proposal from one knee. Of course I should not complain, since my own proposal was a great deal worse. Do you think I might do it over? After all, what will you tell our children about our engagement? That I offered you an omelette? Or that I was such a dimwit that you had to do the deed?”

Athena’s heart felt warmed by his mention of their children. Her hand felt warm in his. She smiled and said, “They will think both of their parents are nod-cocks if they learn that I refused you.”

“Then I may do it again?”

“I think I would like that.”

Still holding her hand, Ian stood up from the sofa and knelt at her feet. With his other hand he drew the ring box out of his coat pocket and held it out to her. “My very dear Miss Renslow, will you make me the happiest of men by accepting my ring? I shall do my best to make you happy, to keep you safe, to cherish you for all of our days and nights together. Will you do me the infinite honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

Athena looked down at the face she was coming to adore. The foolish man was pretending her answer was uncertain, that it was not a foregone conclusion when she asked to see him alone, or when she asked him to marry her! He was still giving her the choice, giving her his respect. Her uncle was right. She was taking a chance, but the prize was well worth the dangers. She freed her hand to open the ring box.

Great gods, Ian fretted, what was taking her so long to answer? His knees were growing sore. What if she’d changed her mind already, and refused his offer again?

He’d go mad. No, he would not go anywhere. He would stay right here, on his aching knees, with the door locked so she could not escape. He’d spend the rest of the day—or the week if that was what it took—to change her mind back.

She was looking at the ring—pearls this time, to match the strand she wore around her neck, only the pearls on the ring were surrounding a heart-shaped ruby. She held it out, handing it back to him, with tears starting in her tropical-seas eyes.

“Don’t you like it? I can get the diamond back if you’d prefer it. Or have a new ring made for you. I thought of a turquoise or an aquamarine to match your eyes, but this one seemed more special, with the weight of years behind it. It is in the portrait of the first countess, you know. You do not need to wear it for—”

“Hush, silly. It is beautiful, and I like it far more than the diamond. But it is your job to put it on me. That’s part of the offer, isn’t it?”

“How should I know? I’ve only done this once before, and made a hash of that. But does this mean you are going to accept this time?”

She raised her hand again. He slipped the ring on her finger. The fit was perfect, thank goodness. “With this ring—No, that is for the wedding ceremony. Deuce take it, I made the last speech. It is your turn.”

“With this ring on my finger, with pride and with pleasure, and knowing what an honor you do me, I accept your kind offer. With this ring on my finger, I pledge myself to you and to being the best wife I know how, to cherish you and our children for every day of our lives.”

“And the nights?”

“Definitely the nights.”

Then she slid to her knees on the carpet, facing him, and they sealed their troth with a searing kiss that did not end until he groaned.

“Oh, dear. Are you hurt? I did not mean to bite down on your lip. I—”

“No, it is my knees. They have gone numb. But that is easily fixed.” He lowered himself onto his back, with her atop him, and kissed her again, his hands pressing her tight against his chest so their hearts beat next to each other and their breaths were one breath. His hand reached down to catch the hem of her gown, and he drew it up, stroking her calf and the back of her knee and her thigh as he went. Then he caressed her derriere, making low hums of approval as he did.

BOOK: Barbara Metzger
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