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He let go of her hand. “Of course, of course.” They settled into two oak armchairs by the fire. “Now, I’m not sure there are any details to discuss yet, of course, but I do have some thoughts. McGowan, for one. A bit older than you, but not by too much, and he’s an earl. A solid fellow—never been married. And there’s Arran, of course. Perhaps a bit flowery for a woman like you, but he’d do. And there’s Weogh—”
“Lord Deal.” There was no sense allowing the conversation to move any further in this direction. The time was ripe. “When we agreed to come to Scotland and discuss the details,” she said carefully, “I assumed—” A lick of panic flared. It would be so easy to fail. “I had no idea you intended to introduce me to someone else.”
A moment of genuine confusion knitted his brows.
She pressed on. “I assumed you and I would work out some kind of arrangement.”
“You and I!” Now there was genuine surprise. He managed a kind of half laugh edged with horror. “Good God, Katherine, you’re Cullen’s little girl. Bad enough to be patching you into a hasty marriage to a stranger, but me— Ach.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m afraid that possibility never crossed my mind.”
“Well perhaps it could cross your mind now,” she said flatly. “It makes good sense, given your relationship with my father and the proximity of the Deal and Dunscore estates.”
“Katherine—”
“I do not want to marry a stranger.”
“Of course not. But under the circumstances...” He cleared his throat. “You’d like McGowan. I’m sure of it.”
If there was one thing she could be sure of, it was that she would not like McGowan. Or Arran, or Weogh, or any other bloody pillock Lord Deal got it in mind to marry her off to. The fear that he might refuse to marry her made it difficult to smile. “My apologies, Lord Deal. I never meant to shock you. I had no idea we were not of the same mind on this subject.” It was only a small lie.
“No apology necessary, my dear.” He tried another laugh. “Such flattery, so early in the morning.”
“Let me assure you, I would do everything in my power to make you a suitable wife. I would be on my very best behavior. There would be no more scenes like the one at the ball.” His hand was warm and dry, with loose skin that wrinkled a little in her grasp. A knot in her stomach screamed for attention, but she ignored it.
“What a pity that would be, my dear.” He laughed again, perhaps a bit edgily. “I daresay the duke will think twice before he gets a mind to press his attentions where he’s not wanted. You may well have done womankind a favor.”
“I can’t say I regret it,” she admitted. “But I also understand the importance of propriety. I wouldn’t want you to think I can’t behave myself.”
He pulled his hand away. “Ach, no—no, I would never think that. But, Katie, you can hardly expect me to be inclined toward matrimony with a girl who once served me mud biscuits and seawater tea.”
“I promise I shan’t serve them again.” She laughed lightly, the way Phil might have, but his kindly brown eyes didn’t quite crinkle.
“My dear, when I look upon you I see a girl Anne’s age.”
Which was one of the reasons why he would make the perfect husband.
She leaned forward and reached for his hand again—slowly, deliberately—knowing full well her low-cut gown would give him a glimpse of more than it should. “I doubt that, my lord.” She was rewarded when his eyes flicked downward. No, he was not entirely immune.
His lips thinned.
“You can’t really intend to see me forcibly married to one of those men—a complete stranger.”
“They weren’t strangers to your father.”
“But they are to me.” Fear ate through her seductive pretense. “I can’t bear it. I can’t.”
“You must bear it,” he said sternly. “You can’t allow Holliswell to take Dunscore. For Cullen’s sake, I can’t allow it. But God help me—” He stood suddenly, and so did she. He was thinking now. Considering. There was hesitation in his brow.
She took a chance and brazenly lay her palms against his chest. If appealing to his male nature would change his mind, she would fire all guns. “Would it be so terrible to have me as your wife?” she asked, in a voice Phil would have been proud of.
He looked down at her as though this was the Garden of Eden and she was offering him a bite of apple. “Cullen would call me out, and rightfully so.”
“My father isn’t here,” she reminded him quietly. “And I’m a woman long since grown.” She smoothed the front of his waistcoat the way a wife might do. “My days of mud biscuits are far behind me.”
“Not so far.”
“Far enough.”
He circled her wrists with hands that were stronger than they looked. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” he said brusquely. He wanted to touch her. She could see it in his eyes, and she fought the urge to back away as her pulse sped and a nerve ticked wildly in her throat.
She’d already decided on this. And she would see it through. Their marriage bed would be no different from the day she’d finally been sent to Mejdan’s bed. Lord Deal was kind, and he would be gentle. He was kindly to Anne, and, most important, wouldn’t try to shackle Katherine down.
“Little about your life would need to change,” she told him. “I would ask nothing of you. You would be forced into nothing you didn’t wish to do.”
He laughed a little. “Except one thing. I don’t even know if I could— Good God.” He shook his head. “I really don’t think I could do what you’re asking.”
“Marriages of convenience are hardly uncommon.”
“Is there nobody who would meet your approval?” he demanded, looking her hard in the eyes, giving her a glimpse of the man he’d been thirty years ago. His hands tightened on her wrists. “You must have met dozens of eligible men while you were in London. Am I to believe nobody caught your eye? Are the gentlemen in London so blind that nobody so much as hinted at an offer? Ah, I can see there is someone. Who is he?”
“Nobody acceptable.” But the image of James exploded to life—his face, drunk with passion inside her carriage, while his hands laid claim to her body. Katherine, marry me. “You know as well as I what kind of interest I garnered in London. Lord Deal, I am quite serious. You are my only hope.”
“Tell me about this unacceptable gentleman in London. What was the objection? No doubt you outrank him significantly.”
She was not going to discuss James with Lord Deal. But before she could tell him as much, he softened. “You’ve had your heart broken, haven’t you, my dear?”
“Certainly not.”
Lord Deal’s brows dove. “He’s wronged you, then?”
“No.” This was not the discussion they were supposed to be having. “Lord Deal, please.” Now she’d been reduced to begging. She schooled herself to soften her voice. “Please consider this.”
“Honestly, Katherine, I’m hard-pressed to think of anything that would seem more wrong.”
Marrying one of Lord Deal’s “suggestions” would be more wrong. But it was obvious that continuing to press the issue now might lead to failure, so she just looked at him.
He watched her with tight lips and troubled eyes that sparked with the beginnings of indecision.
After a long moment he let go of her and stepped away. “I can’t give you an answer now.”
Suddenly she could hardly breathe. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“It would be a betrayal of Cullen beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”
“I am convinced he would rather you be the one to save Dunscore than anyone else.”
Lord Deal did not seem to share her conviction. “Give me a few days to at least satisfy myself that I’ve thought of every other possibility, and if you haven’t thought of a better solution by then—” Something outside caught his attention, and he frowned toward the windows. “Are you expecting visitors?”
Visitors. Katherine turned abruptly and spotted two riders coming up the drive—riders she recognized even from this distance. “It’s William Jaxbury.” She clenched her jaw. “And Captain Warre.”
“Croston?” Lord Deal peered harder. “Ach, it is. And from the looks of things, they’ve ridden fast and hard.”
What were they doing here? This could ruin everything.
“Are you all right, Katie? You seem displeased by their arrival. Sir Jaxbury is a dear friend, is he not?”
“My dearest friend. And I am not—”
“Then it is Croston whose presence displeases you?”
“I am not displeased.” She tucked her hand in Lord Deal’s arm and urged him toward the door. “Let us go and greet our visitors,” she said in the most pleasant voice she could manage.
“Mama!” Anne’s voice called delightedly from the staircase in the entrance hall. “Mama, I hear horses! Miss Bunsby says it is William! And Captain Warre! Mama, Captain Warre has come to visit us!”
Her fingers tightened around Lord Deal’s arm before she could stop them.
“Mmm,” he said. “I daresay young Lady Anne has made a friend.”
* * *
IT WAS A full twenty minutes before Katherine had the heart to tear Anne away from her friend and send her upstairs with Miss Bunsby. Something was wrong. Very wrong. When James told them what day they’d left London, there was no doubt they’d hardly stopped at all.
“What’s happened?” she demanded the moment Anne was out of hearing.
“Millicent and India have taken the Possession,” William told her. “Slipped out of the Thames in the dead of night.”
An invisible hand closed over her throat. “That’s impossible.”
“Apparently it’s not,” James said flatly. “We went to your house after hearing the Possession was gone and found no trace of Miss Germain,” James said. “We checked with Cantwell, and India was gone, as well. Snuck away somehow, and in her infinite wisdom, left a note. Wouldn’t be treated like a child, or something to that effect.”
William snorted.
“That is quite an offense,” Lord Deal commented gravely.
Suddenly things made sense—why Millie had been so adamant about not feeling well enough to travel, why she had begged to stay in London instead of accompanying them to Dunscore. With her face so pale and yellowed with bruises, it had been impossible to deny her. Katherine had allowed her the use of the London house indefinitely.
But indefinitely had lasted only as long as it had taken Millicent to put her plan into action. Katherine’s hands began to tremble, and she made fists to keep them still. “You must go after them,” she said to William. “I will commission a ship in Edinburgh and pay for a crew.”
A gleam came into William’s eye. “An easy guess where they’re headed.”
Malta. But what India planned to do with the Possession while Millicent tried to gain admittance to that surgical school was anyone’s guess.
“It’ll be a damned business, bringing up Cantwell’s daughter on charges,” Lord Deal said.
“There won’t be any charges,” Katherine said. Her thoughts churned, struggling to make sense of this development. “I only want the Possession returned.”
“Aye, Captain,” William said.
She did want it returned. Right now. Today. This instant. It belonged to her, with her, where she could see it every day and hold on to its promise. It made her who she was.
“What of the committee? Has there been any word?” she asked.
“I daresay it’s too soon to expect any,” James said. And then he turned to Lord Deal. “Have there been any developments here?”
He was windblown from the ride, looking more like a sea captain than he had for weeks, and it was hard to keep from staring. A lock of his hair curled over his forehead. A shadow of beard roughened his jaw. Those calculating, sea-captain eyes watched her carefully.
She wanted to throw her arms around him the way Anne had done.
Instead, she reached for Lord Deal’s arm. “Indeed, Henry and I have just been discussing the arrangements.”
James’s tight lips curved. “Have you.”
Lord Deal cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. We have indeed been discussing a variety of possibilities—attempting, naturally, to think of some gentlemen who would be appropriate and, of course, to identify those whom Lady Dunscore finds objectionable.” He patted her hand. “And I do believe we have identified at least one of the gentlemen in question.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE (#ulink_da7d2a90-d139-5378-bc05-8e3173bf13d6)
JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT, a knock sounded at the door of her bedchamber.
The sound caught Katherine standing with her hands pressed against the cool, bare stone of her bedroom wall. In the quiet room with her palms against rock, she could almost feel Dunscore’s heartbeat. It pulsed through her as though they were one.
She ignored the knock and let her hands fall. Went to stab at the fire, watching the sparks fly, calling up memories of her life—her real life. The one she’d built herself, not the one of her girlhood fantasies. William, grinning in the sunshine while porpoises played in the water. Young rigger Danby, dangling from the main yard after slipping from the footrope and nearly causing her to succumb in a fit of apoplexy in the process. That hot rush of anticipation that gripped her when she sighted a corsair xebec through her glass.
The sound of Anne’s screams above the cannonfire, and the knowledge that one small mistake—one single misstep—could change her life forever. Or end it completely.
Jab. Jab. She attacked a burning log until it fell into crumbling, hot orange pieces. That was why she was giving up her freedom. For Anne’s sake. And marrying Lord Deal was the most tolerable answer.
There was a second knock, more insistent this time.
It is the answer only because you refused a proposal from the man on the other side of that door.
Proposal? Ha. What she had refused was a lust-drunk misjudgment that had tumbled from his lips in a moment of passion.
A third knock, and this time, the hushed bark of her name. She unlatched the door and opened it a crack. “You’ve already received all the hospitality I plan to offer, Captain.”
“Open the bloody door.” The hallway was nearly dark, but the glow from her room lit the murderous expression on his face. He stood there in only his breeches and shirt—no waistcoat, no stockings, no shoes. Nerves tangled in her belly even as her ire rose.
“Devil take you,” she said, and started to shut the door, only to have him shove it open. “Get out!” she hissed, fearful of waking anyone.
“Are you engaged to him?” he demanded.
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Everything about you is my concern.”
He grabbed her around the waist and crushed his mouth on to hers. The shock of instant fire in her blood had her gasping against him even as she tried to push him away, but he was immovable and her parted lips only gave his tongue free entrance into her mouth. He smelled like spicy soap and tasted of temptation. She felt him try to push the door closed and she tightened her hand around the latch to prevent him. He turned her back against the door and used their bodies to push it shut.
“Leave,” she gasped, and cursed him. He only kissed her more savagely, and even her outrage could not fight the fire that tore across her skin. She shoved at him and pulled him closer all at the same time, and suddenly it was like the first time they’d touched in her cabin aboard the Possession, except this time there was no reason to stop.
“I ask you again,” he said harshly. “Are you engaged to Deal?”
