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She dropped on to the bed, wondering how she could get off this island without the captain. She remembered Black Harry paying for her passage to Scotland, so she could leave Ireland as her father had wished her to do. She had to admit that it was strange behaviour on Black Harry’s part if he really had lusted after her. She recalled how strong and indestructible he had appeared as he had stood on the quayside last time she had seen him. It seemed wrong that two such strong men as he and her father could now be dead.
A lump filled her throat and she wanted to weep. She must return to Black Harry’s friend, the Baron Dalsland, in England, but what sad news she would be taking with her to the Baron and his wife, Rosamund, who was Black Harry’s sister—the sister he did not know existed. Joshua, too, would be disappointed, as would Lady Elizabeth—that is if they were still alive. She wondered if they believed she, herself, was lost to them for ever.
A tear trickled down her cheek. Perhaps it would be better if she did not return to England because then she would not have to give them such disappointing and sad news. But that was a cowardly thought and she must consider some way she could get back to them.
She wondered if she were to get down on her knees and kiss the captain’s feet and beg his pardon he would extend his helping hand to her again. Her proud nature baulked at the very notion of behaving in the way she had been forced to act whilst in the power of the pirate chieftain when she had rebelled against his orders. Fortunately, where he was concerned her beauty had saved her from rape, because she was worth more to him as a virgin.
A knock on the door and her heart began to race and she felt quite faint at the thought of coming face to face with her host again. He was beginning to have the most odd effect on her. Had he returned to tell her that he did indeed want her out of the house immediately?
‘Who is it?’ she asked in a trembling voice.
‘It’s Joe.’
She felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. ‘Come in.’
He opened the door and peered round it cautiously. ‘The captain said that you were vexed. He told me to make sure not to get too close to you with a knife.’
His words came as such an anticlimax that Bridget laughed. ‘Your captain jests. I would not hurt you, Joe. I look upon you as my friend.’
‘Honestly?’ He pushed the door wider with his hip and came further into the bedchamber. ‘I’ve got no female friends, but I’ve food here that’s real appetising. It’ll nourish you and make you strong.’
‘I suppose you don’t get a chance to become acquainted with a suitable lass being away at sea so long,’ said Bridget.
‘Aye. But, to be honest, I don’t know what to say to lasses, unlike some of the crew. Women and drink are the first things they think of as soon as we drop anchor in port.’ He reddened. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be talking to you about such matters …’ His voice trailed off and he looked even more embarrassed.
Bridget lowered her eyes and toyed with her fingers. ‘Does the captain go with women?’
Joe placed the tray on the chest and made for the door. ‘No, he steers clear of them. There was a woman he once loved, but she was in love with his closest friend.’ Joe looked guilty. ‘The captain would have me hide if he knew I was gossiping about him. Now you eat your fish and bread.’
Bridget gazed down at the pure white fillets swimming in a creamy herb sauce as if in a daze. ‘What kind of fish is it?’
‘Forget its name, but it has a real ugly head. Anyway, you’re not going to have to look at that because I chopped it off.’
‘Did you catch it yourself?’ she asked.
Joe grinned. ‘Aye. Captain’s too busy to go fishing. Time’s money and he reckons the winds will be blowing in the right direction soon to take us to Lisbon.’
The lad’s words made Bridget feel almost as desperate as she had felt when she had dropped into the sea. ‘Tell me, Joe, what is your captain’s name?’
‘We call him Captain Mariner.’
‘Mariner?’ She stared at him in surprise. ‘But that is simply another name for a sailor.’
Joe nodded. ‘Aye, the captain was an orphan like me, so he chose his own name.’
Bridget supposed it made perfect sense. ‘And what’s your surname, Joe?’
‘I’m Joseph Cook because that’s what I am. I’ll leave you now, mistress, to enjoy your meal.’
After Joe left, Bridget forced herself to eat whilst she mulled over what he had told her. If the captain had naught to do with women, it meant that she was safe from any advances from him. She wondered about the woman he had loved and recalled the expression in his eyes when he had looked at her earlier. He was all man and no doubt could have made many a woman happy. She regretted speaking to him the way she had done now. He must have been deeply hurt when the woman had preferred his friend. Somehow she had to overcome his misgivings about her and convince him that it would serve him well to take her with him on his ship to Lisbon.
Harry stood outside Bridget’s bedchamber. He had calmed down and now regretted upsetting her. He should have taken her sufferings into more consideration and considered his words before he spoke. But he had spoken honestly when he had told her that she was beautiful. He desired her and wanted her for himself, but for the moment he had to keep those feelings under control. She was penniless, far from home and her situation was unlikely to improve if Callum was at the bottom of the ocean along with Harry’s ship and its crew. She might speak of friends in England, but that country was thousands of miles away. Her beauty, as she had said, was a hindrance rather than a help, and she needed protecting from other men. He could see only one way of ensuring such protection and security for the future. But if she knew him for who he really was, then she might reject his suggestion. If it were not for his beard, she might possibly have guessed who he was by now.
How long before she realised he was deceiving her? He had not actually lied to her when he’d told her that Black Harry no longer existed but she had reacted to the news as he intended, by believing that he had meant he was dead. Harry had always hated being called Black Harry and no one had called him by that name for years, so in a way he did no longer exist. Now Harry, as his alter ego, Captain Mariner, needed to apologise to Bridget McDonald if he was to lay his plan for their future before her. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his knuckles on the panel of the door and asked for permission to enter.
‘Of course, Captain Mariner, do come in,’ invited Bridget.
Perhaps he should not be surprised by the sweetness of her tone, aware how desperate was her situation. He half–expected to find her lying on the bed, resting, but she was standing in front of the statue of the Madonna and Child. He cleared his throat. She turned and their eyes caught and held, and he guessed she was trying not to show how nervous she was of him.
‘I hope you will forgive me for having spoken words that were hurtful to you?’ said Harry quietly.
Bridget did not drop her gaze, but her insides were quivering. ‘I, too, spoke out of turn earlier, Captain Mariner. I really am grateful for all you have done for me and I really do need your help. If I had any money, I would pay you to take me aboard your ship and provide me with passage to Lisbon.’
‘And what would you do when you reached Lisbon?’
‘I would hope that there would be an English ship whose captain would be generous enough to take me to London. I am sure my friends would willingly reimburse him for his trouble.’
Harry frowned. ‘You cannot be as foolish as you sound, Mistress McDonald. I refuse to believe that you have forgotten already your earlier fears about the slave trader still searching for you. I deem what you really want is for me to take you all the way to England.’
She blushed. ‘It would certainly be the perfect answer to my dilemma.’
Harry muttered, ‘Sit down, Mistress McDonald.’
She hesitated and he rasped, ‘I cannot sit down until you do and I’ve been on my feet for hours.’
Hastily she sat on the bed. ‘You are busy supervising the loading of the sugar–cane harvest?’
‘Aye. All is nearly ready and I will be departing soon.’ He paused and was silent for so long that she thought he was going to refuse to take her. Then he took a deep breath. ‘I have a proposition to put to you.’
‘What kind of proposition?’ she asked warily.
He frowned. ‘There is no need for you to look so apprehensive, but you are an attractive woman and could cause havoc on my ship.’
‘Joe told me that you—’
He glared at her. ‘What did he tell you? ‘
She changed what she had been about to say. ‘That you were an orphan just like him, so you chose your own name.’
Harry said drily, ‘I don’t believe that was your first choice of words, but no matter.’ He paused, putting off the moment when he would put his proposition to her. ‘Would you like to know how Joe came to be in my employment?’
‘Aye. I know that he is fond of you and thinks you are the best captain he knows.’ She smiled.
Harry scrubbed at his beard. ‘I found Joe being tormented by a couple of bigger lads down by the waterfront in London, so I took him under my wing because I knew what it was to have no one of your own to fight your corner. He’s been with me ever since. He’s like a son to me now.’
Bridget felt a strange warmth inside her. ‘Surely you’re not old enough to have a son his age?’
Harry gave a twisted smile. ‘A younger brother, then. I do not know my exact age, but I reckon I must have seen twenty–four summers.’ He paused. ‘How old are you, Mistress McDonald?’
‘It will be the eighteenth anniversary of my birth in a few months.’
He nodded. ‘Then it is time you were wed.’
Her mouth tightened. ‘You would tease me, Captain Mariner? What kind of man would marry a dowerless woman?’
‘I will marry you,’ said Harry simply.
Bridget went still and was convinced that she must have misheard him. ‘I beg your pardon, Captain? I didn’t quite catch what you said.’
‘A marriage of convenience, Mistress McDonald,’ he said, meeting her gaze squarely. ‘You are a penniless woman alone in a foreign land and in need of a protector, and I have decided that a wife could be useful to me.’
She was stunned by his suggestion. ‘I cannot believe you would wish to marry me. I have naught to bring you.’
‘You are a beautiful woman and will enhance my life. I have roamed the seas for years and it has seldom bothered me that I have no wife or house to call home when I make landfall. Now I have decided that I will buy a house in some port and you can live there. Will that not suit you? You will not have to constantly tolerate my presence for I will be away on business some of the time. You can make a home for me and Joe. Do you think you can manage to do that? If you feel it is beyond your capacities, then say so now.’
Bridget was still feeling stunned by his proposal, but his reasoning sounded sensible. She had to give it serious thought, because what would happen to her if she turned him down? He might feel he no longer needed to feel responsible for her. He had been kind and tended her when she was ill. No doubt he had saved her life and not once had he taken advantage of her dependency on him. He appeared to be an honourable man. But what did he mean exactly by a marriage of convenience?
She cleared her throat. ‘I thank you for your offer, Captain, but does it not bother you that we scarcely know each other?’
He raised those devilishly dark eyebrows of his and drawled, ‘Most couples who make convenient matches are barely acquainted.’
Bridget knew this to be true. Even the King of England’s daughter, Margaret, had married the King of Scotland by proxy without ever having met him. ‘That is certainly true. You speak of a marriage of convenience—does that mean you intend this to be a match in name only or shall it be a proper marriage?’
He hesitated. ‘Perhaps we can discuss that when we are better acquainted.’
She could see the sense in that because it was possible that they both might have a change of heart in a few months’ time. But even so—She frowned. ‘Wouldn’t a housekeeper do you just as well?’
Harry blinked at her. ‘Am I to presume you would rather be my housekeeper?’
‘No! For what security would that give me?’ she said honestly, reaching out and touching his arm. ‘Yet what if, against all the odds, you were to meet another woman and fall in love with her? You might decide that you’d rather be rid of me.’
‘It is hardly likely, Mistress McDonald,’ he said ruefully. ‘But your point is worth considering, only maybe it will be you who will fall in love with another man. You are lovely. It isn’t as if you are stuck with an ugly visage like mine. Maybe you will come to hate looking at my face.’
She hesitated. ‘I confess I do not have a fondness for black beards. Perhaps if you shaved it off, I would marry you.’
Harry’s hand went to his beard in a defensive gesture. ‘Is that really necessary?’
‘No, it’s just that the slave trader had a black beard and I would rather not be reminded of him,’ she said.
Harry did not want her constantly thinking of the slave trader, either, as that would not bode well for their future. On the other hand, when she saw him without his beard and recognised him, as well as getting a good look at the disfiguring scar currently hidden beneath his beard, she would have more than one reason for refusing his offer. ‘What if I were to promise to shave it off after the wedding?’
She smiled. ‘That is a rare promise. I cannot believe you are as ugly as you say you are. I deem you just hide behind that beard because you wish to keep the women at bay.’
He grimaced. ‘I would like to hear you say that when you see me minus this beard,’ he said, touching his whiskers.
‘I deem you dwell too much on the importance of a person’s appearance. Surely it is what one’s heart is like that is more important.’
‘You can say that because you are lovely,’ said Harry, ‘not that I disagree with you about a person’s nature. I would add that, if you decide to accept my proposal, I will expect your complete loyalty to me once we are married.’
His words surprised her. ‘Why should you doubt my loyalty? You are offering me a home where I will rule when you are not there. I have no dowry, so no other man of worth would take me as I am. A home of my own is something I have never had before. Just like you, my home was a ship for several years. Even when I lived on land before sailing with my father, my home was either in my Irish grandfather’s keep or my uncle’s castle. It is true that there will be much for me to learn about organising a household, but I have seen how it is done and I have certain housewifery skills, such as sewing and cooking.’
‘Then you will agree to be my wife?’ asked Harry, his heart thudding as he waited for her answer.
Chapter Four
Bridget said hesitantly, ‘You are offering me so much. I only wish I had part of my father’s hoard to give you, then I would feel more worthy of you. I would that neither of us will regret my agreeing to be your wife.’
‘I have no need of a dowry,’ said Harry, relieved. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips and kissed it. ‘Obviously there will be no time for banns to be read, but I will visit the priest in Machico today and, for a few pieces of silver, I am sure he will obtain a special licence so we can wed before we leave Madeira. I pray that you will feel well enough to make the journey in the next few days.’
‘If that is your wish.’ Bridget could feel her skin tingling where his lips had touched it. ‘How will we travel there?’
‘On horseback or you could ride alongside me when I drive the cart into Machico. After the ceremony we will go aboard my ship. I will need to oversee the loading of the cargo and, God willing, we will set sail the following morning on the outgoing tide.’
‘You have it all planned,’ said Bridget, attempting to conceal her sudden apprehension. Could he have planned this from the moment he had discovered her identity? But why should he have done? He had, after all, given sensible reasons why he wished to marry her.
‘Naturally, I gave my proposal some thought before broaching the matter,’ said Harry. ‘Of course, plans can easily be overturned by forgetfulness or misfortune,’ he said idly. ‘If you can think of aught I might have forgotten, then I will be glad if you will inform me of it. I will leave you now and speak to you on my return.’
Bridget watched him go. She found it difficult to think of anything other at the moment than this man who had saved her life. She had a fair notion of what life was like being married to a mariner. Lonely, if one did not have a family or friends living close by. She felt a tightness in her chest and a moment’s panic. Had she made the right decision? He had made no mention of wanting children. Yet she knew from listening to married women talking that most men wanted a son. Her mother had wanted a son, but it had never happened.
There were footsteps outside in the passage that she recognised and her heart began to thud. ‘Is that you, Captain?’ she called.
He entered the bedchamber and smiled down at her. ‘I have been thinking you might like to sit outside on the terrace. I am certain the fresh air and sunshine will do you good.’
Instantly his thoughtfulness banished her ponderings. ‘I would like that,’ she said sincerely. ‘But I have no shoes.’ She lifted her skirts to reveal her bare feet. ‘I lost them in the sea.’
He frowned and stroked his beard. ‘I should have thought of that earlier. No doubt you could also do with more clothes for the journey. I shall see what I can do about such matters when I go into Machico.’
She thanked him.
‘I think it is best if I carry you downstairs as this will be the first time you will leave your bedchamber since your arrival,’ he said.
Before she could protest and say that she was quite capable of walking, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her from the room. ‘But, Captain, my condition is much improved,’ she assured him.
‘Aye, but you have been close to death and need to conserve your strength for the journey.’ Harry was not going to deprive himself of the pleasure of holding her close to him.
On those words, Bridget decided to remain silent, conscious of the strength in his arms and the beating of his heart. It gave her an odd feeling to be cradled in his arms that was not unpleasant.
He set her down in a chair on the terrace where she could gaze down over the garden to the glistening ocean below. ‘How calm the water looks today,’ she said.
‘Aye, it is hard to believe that it can turn into a raging monster with little warning,’ said Harry. ‘If you will excuse me. I will be back soon.’
‘Of course,’ said Bridget hastily, watching him until he was out of sight.
Then she turned and looked again over the garden, determined to make the most of these moments of tranquillity. Soon she would have to strengthen her will to face going aboard ship again. What the captain had said about the sea being a raging monster had struck home. But she would not mention her fear of getting caught up in another storm to him.
‘Taste this and give me your opinion,’ said Harry, handing a goblet to Bridget.
Grateful that he was treating her as he would a normal guest, she took a cautious sip and then a mouthful of the wine. ‘It is sweet and fruity with an unusual flavour. If you could bottle it, I’m sure you could make your fortune.’
