The Bartered Bride (19 page)

In the distance she heard four bells striking. Six o'clock in the morning. She opened her eyes, and found that Gavin was lying on his side with one arm around her. In relaxation his face was surprisingly youthful despite subtle marks of strain and fatigue. What a sore trial she'd been to him from the beginning. She recognized how easy it would be to sink into melancholy after all the pain and loss she'd suffered, starting with Edmund's death. The night of St. Elmo's fire, when she'd been mesmerized by the depths of the sea, she'd come perilously close to giving up. Yet surrender was a coward's way. She was standing at a crossroads-and it was up to her to choose life. Katie deserved a healthy, loving mother, and Gavin deserved a wife who gave as much as she received.

She touched Gavin's jaw, feeling the prickle of whiskers though his fair coloring made them almost invisible. He had also suffered great losses in his life: his native land, his parents, his wife and child. Yet he survived with warmth and generosity in his soul, and he'd made a commitment to her and Katie that only death would end. She could do no less.

His eyes opened and he regarded her warily. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better. And tomorrow I'll be a little better yet." She took a deep breath. "I said a lot of nonsense last night. I'm sorry."

He relaxed visibly. "No need to apologize. The circumstances were extreme."

"How is Ollie?" she asked. "Have you done the amputation?" Gavin made a face. "Yes. It's the sort of thing best done quickly. He came through the operation well. He's saying now that he always fancied becoming a cook because he'd get first choice of the food, and now he has a proper excuse."

"What courage," she said softly.

"The men are celebrating the fact that they defeated a larger ship with heavier guns." He toyed with the unkempt braid that trailed over her shoulder. "They're calling you St. Alexandra for your heroic labors."

She felt an unexpected smile. "Like my mother was St. Catherine. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it? Though my mother is far more saintly than I."

He smiled back. "Maybe you only thought that because she tried very hard to be good in front of her impressionable daughter, just like you are in front of Katie. I presume she was named for your mother?" She nodded. "I can't wait for them to finally meet."

"It won't be long now, Alex. Only a few more weeks."

"A few more weeks." She linked her fingers through his and let her eyes drift shut. It was hard to imagine that normal life was so near. Normal life. She craved it. Once she was safe in England, she would never, ever have another adventure.

CHAPTER 17

London, England, Summer 1834

The Thames was a crowded highway after the vast tranquility of the oceans. Gavin enjoyed pointing out landmarks to his ladies. Alex was as eager as Katie to look at the Greenwich Observatory on a hill above the river, and as intrigued to learn that all the world's longitude was measured from the invisible meridian that ran through it.

Other sights were equally impressive, though Gavin made sure they were belowdecks when the Helena passed Gibbet Island, where the dry bones of four convicted pirates rattled in iron cages. Alex might have found grim satisfaction at seeing justice done, but it was no sight for a child. The closer they came to the city, the more crowded the waters. By the time they reached the lock that would admit them to London Dock, the river was a raucous, noisy brawl of ships, large and small-one of the world's great trade centers going about its business at maximum speed and volume. As Katie hung enthralled over the ship's railing, Gavin asked, "What is it like to see your homeland for the first time at the age of nine?"

Katie laughed, her cheeks pink with excitement. "It's wonderful! There's so much happening." Her glance went to her mother, who was quieter but just as excited. "Mama has told me so much about England that it already feels like home."

"You're lucky to arrive on a warm, sunny afternoon. If this was a gray, wet day in winter, you might wish yourself back in Sydney."

She shook her head. "I've had three summers in a row-in Sydney, in the Islands, and now here. I shall be ready for winter when it comes."

"What a wise young lady you are." He sometimes had trouble believing his amazing good fortune in acquiring this wonderful daughter as well as Alex. All this, and London-the goal he'd been working toward for half a lifetime. Though as captain he must look collected, underneath he was as tense as Katie and Alex. Worse, perhaps. He'd waited a long time to prepare himself. The scales must be balanced so he could finally move on.

Alex asked, "What is it like to be so close to the end of your sea captain days?" He distilled his tangled feelings into a simple answer. "I'm ready for a life ashore, but I'll miss the sea."

"When we find that home by the ocean, you'll get a boat, of course." She smiled, tendrils of dark hair blowing enticingly around her face. "A nice little sloop that you can name the Helena II."

"Or the Katybird." He smiled back, thinking how much healthier she looked after the last long, blessedly uneventful leg of the voyage. Seasickness had ended with her miscarriage, and despite lingering weakness from blood loss, she began Katie's lessons again a mere three days after the pirate attack. The evening after that, she resumed reading aloud to him and Katie after supper. They'd gone through all of Robinson Crusoe, one of his favorite books. Never had it been more enjoyable than when she read the story in her rich, brandy-smooth voice.

He hoped she would continue reading aloud once they were ashore. It brought back warm memories of his childhood, when his father was at sea with the navy and his mother read to him in the evenings. And not always books her father, the vicar, would have approved of, even though they were living in the old man's house. There was a lot his grandfather didn't approve of, though he was kind in his own crusty way.

Katie gasped with amazement as the gates of the lock swung majestically open, permitting the Helena to sail into the basin at the center of the giant dock complex. "The London Docks are big as all Sydney!"

"Probably not that big, but large enough, and that's not counting the new St. Katharine's Dock west of here. Much of Britain's tobacco, alcohol, and wool come through the London Docks, as well as tea and spices and rice and a thousand other things." Gavin pointed out a great smoking chimney. "That's a kiln where unclaimed goods are burned after a year has passed. Everything except tea, which burns so fiercely it might set the warehouses ablaze. That's disposed of elsewhere."

"What a great waste," Alex commented.

"It would certainly be more sensible to have Customs auction the goods. The worst waste is the wines and spirits. There are acres and acres of bonded vaults under the docks, and if the duties and expenses aren't paid, the drink is just poured into the river."

"That must make the fish very happy." Alex's voice was demure but her eyes danced. In fact, all of her looked ready to dance now that she was finally home.

"Do you have a preference for any particular hotel, Alex?" he asked. "I've stayed in a couple that were good, but you may know a better one."

She looked surprised. "We don't need a hotel-we must stay at my Uncle Stephen's house."

"Without advance notice? What if your uncle is out of town?"

"His house is the family headquarters-we all stay with them when in London," she explained. "He should be in town now, and even if he isn't, he and Aunt Rosalind would be hurt if we didn't stay there."

"Very well-to your Uncle Stephen's we shall go." Anything to keep that glowing expression on Alex's face. Though she'd done her best to appear cheerful over the last months, he sensed that her smile concealed sadness and grief. The spirit healed more slowly than the body. But today, she was truly happy. He wanted that to last.

"This is your uncle's house?" Gavin exchanged a stunned glance with Katie as their carriage pulled up in front of a vast, sprawling Grosvenor Square mansion.

Alex laughed. "He's only an uncle by marriage-my side of the family is poverty stricken by comparison. But he still welcomes me, even though I'm a mere connection." When Gavin helped Alex from the carriage, she tumbled out like an impatient child before composing herself and taking his arm to walk to the house. Katie grasped her other hand as they climbed the broad steps. Liking that they were moving together as a family, Gavin wielded the huge knocker. A haughty butler opened the door. His expression changed comically when he saw Alex. "Miss Amy?" He groped for her correct name. "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Warren." With a smile, she swept Gavin and Katie inside a two-story-high atrium grand enough for a royal palace. "In person, Riggs. Are my aunt and uncle in residence? "

"Yes, and your parents also." Looking dazed, the butler trailed after the new arrivals. "But ... but ... we thought ..."

Before Riggs could sputter out what he meant to say, a well-dressed woman appeared at the railing of the upper level and looked down at the newcomers. Her graceful posture turned rigid. Then she cried,

"Amy! Dear God in heaven!"

She raced down the lavish double staircase at breakneck speed, her black gown streaming behind her.

"Mama!" Alex darted toward the other woman. They met in a wrenching hug at the foot of the stairs, both of them weeping.

This was the intimidating Catherine? Gavin stared, understanding why Alex had found her alarmingly perfect. Alex must have been born when her mother was in the schoolroom, because Catherine looked not much more than forty now. Only a scattering of silver strands in her dark hair and fine lines beside her eyes revealed her age. The resemblance between them was pronounced, though Alex was a little taller and her demeanor suggested a more active, forceful temperament. Catherine's face had a gentle, Madonna-like quality that must bring men to their knees.

Still crying, Alex stepped back and wiped her eyes. "Lord, I've missed you all so much." Her gaze went over her mother, and she caught her breath. "You're wearing mourning. Not ... not the colonel or the children? Or Aunt Rosalind and Uncle Stephen and their children? " Catherine laughed. "I've been wearing mourning for you and your daughter, Amy-sorry, Alexandra. I'm having trouble remembering what to call you." She produced a handkerchief and wiped eyes the same rare aqua shade as those of her daughter and granddaughter. "I've never been so happy about a mistake in my life!"

Alex's jaw dropped. "You thought we were dead? What did you hear?"

"Several months ago we received word through diplomatic channels that the Amstel was attacked in the Indies, and you both died."

"The attack was chaotic, but certainly no one could have seen us killed." Alex shook her head. "I'm so sorry. It never occurred to me that we'd be reported dead."

Gavin knew why-the Amstel's captain and crew hadn't wanted to admit they'd abandoned a woman and child, so they'd reported deaths instead. Cowards.

"All that matters is that you're safely home." Catherine turned to Katie. "Surely this beautiful young lady is your daughter. Except for that wonderful blond hair, she looks just like you at that age." She knelt for a hug. "I'm your grandmother, Katie, and I am so happy to meet my oldest grandchild." Kate hugged her with delight. "I've wanted to meet you my whole life, Grandmama." Catherine stood, her quizzical glance going to Gavin. Seeing that, Alex said, "Mother, this is my husband, Captain Gavin Elliott." Before she could finish her introduction, two men entered the hall from an unobtrusive door tucked under the sweeping staircase. Tall, distinguished, and in late forties or early fifties, they were clearly brothers. The man with more gray in his brown hair had shrewd eyes watching from a deceptively mild face. The younger brother was whipcord lean, with a commanding manner that would not accept fools gladly.

They swooped down on the returned prodigal and Alex disappeared into fervent embraces and incredulous cries of "Alex!" and "Dear God, we thought you were dead!" Temporarily forgotten, Katie took Gavin's hand. At sea himself, he squeezed her hand comfortingly and wondered what the devil he'd got himself into.

Katie whispered, "Who are all these people?"

"Your mother's family, and they love her very much. As her daughter, they'll love you just as much." He was sure that would be the case; what normal person could not love Katie? He was less sure about how Alex's randomly acquired husband would be accepted into a close and obviously wealthy family. Laughing and crying, Alex emerged from the men's embrace. "I'm sorry, I'm completely forgetting my manners. Mother, Colonel, Uncle Stephen, this is my husband, Captain Gavin Elliott. Gavin, my uncle, the Duke of Ashburton." She gestured to the older man. "And my parents, Lord and Lady Michael Kenyon."

Gavin choked. Her uncle was a bloody damned duke? And the colonel, whom he'd vaguely imagined as a bluff, retired officer, was a knife-sharp duke's brother.

Though Lord Michael would be formidable under other circumstances, today he was fervently grateful, like a man who'd been relieved of a killing load. "Thank you for bringing Alex home to us, Captain," he said with a powerful handshake.

The duke also shook hands. "In the nick of time. Michael was on the verge of haring off to the Indies in search of Alex and Katie."

"I knew it would take more than pirates to sink Alex." Lord Michael put an arm around his stepdaughter's shoulders and squeezed her close. "But I'm relieved not to have to go looking for you. What the devil happened out there?"

Catherine intervened. "There is obviously much news to exchange, but we must give Alex and her family a chance to freshen up." Ashburton summoned the butler and gave low-voiced orders. Alex hadn't been joking about her family assuming that everyone stayed in this great glittering pile. Gavin would have preferred the neutral privacy of a hotel, but this was a time to accept gracefully-no matter how much he might wish he was elsewhere.

Alex watched fondly as Catherine took Katie off to the nursery both of them chattering like magpies. Her mother, her daughter. Something that had been incomplete was now whole. By the time the housekeeper led her and Gavin upstairs, their baggage was waiting. Ashburton House ran like fine clockwork.