Passion's Tide
Authors: Sarah West
s Tide
By Sarah West
© 2012 Sarah West
All rights reserved
This book is dedicated to the family and friends who supported me and helped me through this five
-
year long process.
Thanks to my mother, for bringing home all of those pirate picture books from your elementary school library; thanks to Kevin, for being the first to read through my final manuscript; thank you Carolyn for your
incredible
editing; thank you Leah for calling me after every chapter to tell me how proud you were of me; thanks Lizzie, for your
honest comments
; thank you theater girls, for getting intoxicated and reading my steamy scenes out loud and making me laugh; thanks to my friends who knowingly (and unknowingly) lent me the use of their names for my characters
;
thank you Alli, for your
last minute Spanish corrections;
and thanks to everyone
else
who helped me bring Logan and Amber to life.
It started out as a joke, but turned into a passion.
ontents
Chapter One
Boston, Massachusetts 1714
Amber Townsend nervously paced the length of the library, her tea untouched and sitting on the desk, having dropped to room temperature some time ago
.
Each turn sent her dress rustling about her heels, a well-worn path already driven into the carpet by her incessant ambulation.
“I don’t understand why you are working yourself into a frenzy.”
Amber spun and sent an icy glare at her uncle, Neil
.
“I don’t understand how you can be so unaffected by the news that your only sister is lying on her deathbed!”
He shrugged and took another sip of his brandy, reclining easily in the plush armchair
.
Seething with anger, she stormed over, snatched the glass from his hands and tossed the contents into the fire
.
The flames roared to life as she returned the crystal to the mahogany bar, slamming it down next to the decanter
.
He frowned at her and pulled off his glasses with his grubby fingers, cleaning them on his shirt
.
“In my opinion, your mother was far too lenient in her child-rearing habits
.
She never should have allowed such passion and independence. Such character flaws might prevent you from ever finding a husband, especially as you are almost past a marriageable age.”
“I’m only twenty-three.”
He brushed away her comment and continued, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting it as he spoke
.
“A woman must learn to be quiet and demure, and above all else she should never lose her temper.” He sent her a pointed look, “In my opinion.”
“Yes, well, nobody asked for your opinion,” she said with a sigh
.
“So I must ask you to keep it to yourself.” But as much as she disliked her uncle and made an effort to ignore him, his sentiment was shared by many. As a child she had been a whirlwind of mischief and a constant irritation to her tutors, and on more than one occasion had been the catalyst behind their resignations. Despite her impish nature, however, she was extremely bright, and as she grew older she became more interested in her studies, and
began
to channel her curiosity towards
learning
.
As for finding a husband, her uncle was right in that she simply wasn’t having any luck
.
Over the years she had met several young men who claimed themselves enchanted by her vibrant red hair and vivacious personality. But after
a few
weeks of flirtations and empty promises her suitors would appear at a social event with a new, more respectable girl on their arms. The first time it happened she had been a naïve girl of sixteen, and had felt the snub as a crushing blow.
Her mother had been there that night to brush the tears of shame from her cheeks and convince her that it was
through
no fault of her own she had been fooled
.
“Have you considered the possibility that Jonathan did harbor feelings for you?” she had asked her heartbroken daughter, trying in vain to console her
.
“But perhaps the Martins had already arranged for him to wed the Howard girl
.
It’s not uncommon for a young man to be torn between his emotions and duty to his family.”
Amber let out a bitter laugh. “If he had cared for me I doubt I would have overheard him telling his friends that I was a “gullible little chit,” and that I was “hopeless.””
Molly had pulled her daughter into a hug
.
“You are not hopeless, dear, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise
.
You’re just waiting for the right man.”
Several years and a string of failed romances later, she was still waiting
.
With her mother’s poor health Amber had even less time to worry about marriage, as her responsibilities and worries grew with each day that Molly did not recover.
Neil sat in his chair watching her as he smoked his cigar.
“You know what would help you calm down? Some brandy. It’ll settle your nerves
.
And if you’re pouring yourself a glass, might as well get me one too.”
J
ust then the library door swung open and Jane, the housekeeper, poked her head in
.
“The doctor says you may see her now,” she
informed Amber with a grave expression. As Neil began to stand, she raised a hand to stop him
.
“Not you.” He sank back into his chair as Amber gathered her skirts and followed Jane through the corridor toward her mother’s apartments.
She reached the bedroom doorway and stopped, as if by refusing to enter the room she could prevent the horrible scene from unfolding. Her mother was lying prostrate in an exquisite four-poster bed that they had brought from
England.
A settee was arranged in front of a fireplace, on either side of which were tall bookshelves displaying a section of her mother’s extensive library. A thick carpet protected their feet from the cold wooden floors in the winter, and thick draperies blocked most of the light from the room, which was now lit by a single lantern set on the table beside the bed.
Doctor LeCourt leaned over the bed to wipe Molly’s forehead with a damp cloth, eliciting a soft whimper from between her dry, cracked lips. The clock on the mantle read a quarter after four in the morning, but as her mother’s condition worsened the doctor had taken to remaining at her side day and night. He had done all he could for Molly, but even his best efforts had prove
n futile
.
When Amber had sent for him three weeks ago informing him of her mother’s fever, he had paid them a visit and declared that with a bit of tea and rest she would soon be on her feet again. Amber sent a second messenger a week later after her mother had become delirious, slipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes waking with no knowledge of where she was
.
Other times she would appear alert and healthy, giving Amber hope that she was recovering
.
Just the other day, she had been sitting up in bed, listening to her brother reluctantly read to her
.
Her eyes were bright as she applauded him and encouraged him to continue.
“Please go on, you know how I love to listen to you, Robert.” Neil had frozen, unable to meet her gaze or keep reading
.
Never having met Amber’s father and not wanting to be mistaken
for
him, he quickly removed himself from the house, most likely to visit the nearest tavern and drink himself into a stupor, as was his habit.
Feeling that she shouldn’t wait any longer, Amber sat down on the bed next to her mother, taking a cold hand into her own
.
Molly’s eyelids fluttered for a few seconds, then opened, her unfocused eyes scanning the room before settling on her daughter
.
Amber held her breath as she watched to see if her mother would recognize her, exhaling quickly as Molly gave her a weak smile.
“Hello.” Her voice was soft and scratchy, and the exertion of speaking sent her into a fit of coughing
.
Amber helped her to sit upright and take a sip of water.
Molly turned her head and located Doctor LeCourt sitting by the bed.
“I am dying, aren’t I,” Molly said as a statement, rather than a question. He nodded
.
She turned back to Amber, and upon seeing the tears that had begun to fall in earnest, gave her hand a weak squeeze
.
“Now, I’ll have none of that
.
No more crying.” Amber swallowed heavily and forced her non-compliant mouth into a smile
.
“That’s better,” her mother said, satisfied
.
“Now Amber, when I’m gone, you must return to England and find your father’s sister, Elinor
.
She is married to Alfred
James
.
Find them, and they will take you in without reservation. Through them you will enter London society. That is where you belong.” She coughed, her frail body shaking with the effort
.
“Please, don’t say any
more,” Amber pleaded, not wanting to hasten her mother’s already fast-approaching death
.
Molly smiled and squeezed her daughter’s hand with her remaining strength
.
“Ah darling, I see now where I went wrong
.
I should have disciplined you, crushed your independence
.
But God forgive me, I couldn’t find the willpower to let you be anything other than yourself
.
I hope my mistakes don’t haunt you.”
Amber’s brow furrowed in confusion
.
“Mother, what on earth are you talking…” she trailed off as Molly’s eyes slowly slid shut, her hand slipping from her daughter’s grasp and falling limp at her side
.
“Mother?” she whispered, tears rolling down her face
.
Doctor LeCourt leaned over and pressed his fingers to the side of her throat, then looked up at Amber and shook his head
.
Upon that silent confirmation that her mother was truly, and permanently, gone, Amber buried her head in her hands and sobbed
.
Doctor LeCourt watched her
quietly
, then began to prepare her mother’s body
.
As he lifted her arm to cross it on her chest, he noticed a piece of paper clutched in her fist
.
He loosened it from her grasp and unrolled it, staring at it for a moment.
