скачать книгу бесплатно
She held his eyes for a moment, then folded her papers and put them into her reticule. ‘Yes, Captain Wylder, I will consider it,’ she said quietly. ‘But it is not a decision to be taken lightly.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Thank you for being so frank with me, Captain.’
As she rose he jumped up and reached for her hand, carrying her fingers to his lips.
‘I hope we understand one another now, Miss Shawcross.’
‘I am not sure.’ She regarded him with a tiny crease between her brows. ‘I still do not understand why you should want to marry me, but we will let that pass, for now.’ She withdrew her fingers and, with a slight, regal nod of her head, she turned and walked away from him.
Eve returned to her room, her mind going over and over her interview with Captain Wylder. He had not denied any of the liaisons Maria Gryfford had detailed in her letter, but he had looked wary. Were there even more lovers that she did not know of? Eve realised she did not care how many lovers he might have had in the past; only the present and the future concerned her. A line from Lady Gryfford’s letter flitted through her mind; If the dashing Captain Wyldfire has made you an offer, then snap him up immediately, my dearest Eve. We are all mad for him! But why should he want to marry her? He did not look like the sort of man who would marry merely to please his family. But then, she had been brought up to believe she would marry to please her grandfather. Were they so very different? She put her arms around herself. It was a big decision, to leave the safety of the only home she had ever known and put herself under the protection of Nick Wylder. After all, what did she know of him? Did she trust him?
‘Yes,’ she said aloud. ‘Yes, I do. Perhaps I should not, but I do.’
‘Your pardon, Miss Eve, did you say something?’
Martha came bustling into the room.
‘What? Oh, no, no. I was merely talking to myself. Is it time to dress for dinner already? I think I will wear my blue gown again tonight, Martha.’
‘Ah, you want to look your best for the captain, is that it?’
‘Do not be so impertinent!’
Eve frowned at her handmaiden, but Martha had been part of her household since Eve had been a baby and was not so easily snubbed.
‘Well, what else is one to think, when you and he have been in the garden together this afternoon?’
‘Who told you that?’
Martha shrugged. ‘Mr Granby mentioned it…’
‘How dare you gossip about me!’
‘Lord love you, Miss Eve, we wasn’t gossiping. Mr Granby just happened to mention it in passing. Heavens, miss, how you do take one up. And what does it matter anyway, since you are going to wed him—’
‘Martha! Who says so?’
The maid stared at her. ‘Well, is it not so?’
‘No. Yes—that is…’ She dropped down on the bed, crying, ‘Oh, Martha I do not know what to do!’
‘Don’t you want to marry the captain?’
Eve spread her hands. ‘I must marry someone.’
‘And the captain is very handsome, miss.’
Eve felt herself blushing. ‘Yes he is. Very handsome.’
And exciting, and witty: Eve had never felt so attracted to any man before. Not that she had much experience, one short visit to Tunbridge Wells being the nearest she had ever been to entering society, but she had read lots of books. She knew exactly what a hero should be like, and although the gentlemen she had met at Tunbridge had all fallen well short of her expectations, she was forced to admit that Nick Wylder was the embodiment of her secret dreams. The thought was a little frightening.
‘Well, if you’ll be guided by me, you will listen to Sir Benjamin and do as he bids you, miss,’ Martha advised her. ‘He has never let you down yet.’
‘I know, Martha, but this is…marriage.’ She whispered the word, suddenly nervous of it and the thoughts it conjured.
‘Lord love you, that is just the time to be advised by your grandpapa,’ said Martha cheerfully. ‘If Sir Benjamin thinks the captain is the right man for you, then so it is, and a sight better catch than your cousin Bernard,’ she added, suddenly serious. ‘And that’s who you’ll end up with if the master dies and leaves you alone. I’ve seen ’im sniffing round you when he’s been here on a visit.’
‘Stop it, Martha.’ Eve shuddered. ‘Besides, I have heard that my cousin is hanging out for a rich wife.’
‘Aye, well, maybe he is,’ opined Martha darkly. ‘But that won’t stop him trying to get you between the sheets, with or without a wedding ring!’
With this dire warning she went off to fetch Eve’s gown, leaving her mistress to stare after her.
By the time she went down to dinner Eve was no closer to making a decision, but she was too well-bred to let her inner turmoil show and she greeted Sir Benjamin and the captain with her usual calm smile. Despite her assured performance in the garden that afternoon she was a little nervous of meeting Nick again, but his polite, gentle friendliness soon put her at her ease. However, Sir Benjamin’s suggestion after dinner that the young people should take a stroll in the garden while it was still light threw her into a panic.
‘An excellent idea,’ murmured Nick, his eyes glinting, but not unkindly. ‘Come, Miss Shawcross, indulge me in a little walk.’ He leaned closer and murmured. ‘It need be nothing more, I promise you.’
Feeling the hot blood in her cheeks, she hurried away to fetch her wrap and returned to find only Nick waiting for her in the hall.
‘Sir Benjamin has retired,’ he informed her as she came down the stairs towards him. ‘He asked that you go up to see him when we come back in.’ He held out his arm to her. ‘Shall we walk? You need not worry,’ he added, seeing her hesitation. ‘We shall talk of the most unexceptional subjects, if you like.’
His understanding calmed her jangled nerves. She put her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the house.
At first they discussed the weather, then books and music, but when they had strolled past the parterre and into the shrubbery, Nick said suddenly, ‘I think, Miss Shawcross, that I owe you an apology.’ She glanced up at him and he continued, ‘It seems Sir Benjamin truly did not prepare you for my visit.’
She flushed. ‘This is not the unexceptional topic you promised me, Captain.’
‘I know, but you are very reserved with me tonight. You are trying to make up your mind whether or not to marry me, is that not so?’
‘Of course not!’ she exclaimed, startled. ‘It is…’ She trailed off. ‘To be truthful with you, yes,’ she admitted.
He stopped and turned to her, catching at her hands. ‘And what is so difficult about that decision, Miss Shawcross?’
He lifted her hand to his lips and began to kiss her fingers, one by one. She watched, transfixed.
‘I, um…’
He lifted her other hand and, when he had finished with her fingers, his lips moved on to her wrist, sending a fiery shock the length of her arm.
‘I cannot think,’ she confessed.
He raised his head and smiled at her. Eve’s fingers were still tingling and she found herself staring at his mouth, wondering at the havoc his lips could cause. The smile in his eyes deepened. He cupped her chin.
‘Sometimes it is best not to think,’ he murmured and gently brought his mouth down upon hers.
It was the lightest of kisses, a mere brushing of lips, but it sent Eve’s senses reeling and as Nick pulled away her face remained upturned, inviting him to kiss her again. He gazed down at her.
‘A young lady should not allow a gentleman to kiss her unless she means to marry him,’ he murmured.
‘Then perhaps you have made my decision for me,’ she replied.
He laughed, pulled her hand back on to his arm and they resumed their stroll.
‘I shall not coerce you into this, Miss Shawcross; it must be your decision.’
‘It is in truth my grandfather’s decision,’ she told him. ‘Or at least, his wish. But your assumption was correct, Captain. He did not mention you were coming.
I should not be surprised by it, however. He always said that one day he would bring home a husband for me.’ She sighed. ‘I never really believed him.’
‘Surely he has not kept you locked away here all these years?’ He sounded slightly shocked and she gave a little gurgle of laughter.
‘Like a princess in a fairy-tale? No, of course not. I have attended assemblies in Makerham village upon occasion. And I went to Tunbridge a few years ago.’
‘Then of course you know all you need to know about the world!’
‘I know enough to realise that I am very happy to remain here at Makerham. Everything I want is here.’
‘Is it? Do you never long to know what is going on outside these walls?’
‘There are the news sheets—’
‘That is not the same! There are towns and cities—whole countries waiting to be explored. Does that thought not fill you with excitement?’
The thought filled Evelina with dread. She stepped away from him to cup a particularly lovely rose between her fingers, breathing in its fragrance while she formulated her answer. Apart from one or two early memories of life with her parents and a few brief years at school, Makerham was the only world she had ever known. Outside was alien and full of danger, like the infection that had carried off her parents. Her life here at Makerham was safe, secure; the thought of her cousin taking possession was something she did not want to consider.
‘I am very happy here,’ she said again.
Nick strolled along beside Evelina, his hands clasped firmly behind his back to prevent them reaching out and pulling her into his arms. He had never known such a glorious summer’s evening; bees hummed around the plants and the scent of lavender filled the air. Then there was Evelina herself; she was beautiful, but there was an air of calm about her, serenity. It was like finding a safe harbour after stormy weeks at sea. When he had sought out Sir Benjamin at Tunbridge Wells he had already formulated his plans; if he needed to marry to obtain his ends, then he was prepared to do his duty, but never had he expected duty to be quite so pleasurable.
He stopped and gently turned her to face him. ‘I understand how much you love Makerham, but could you consider living elsewhere?’
‘I think I must, sir, since the house will pass to my cousin when Grandpapa dies.’
‘That is not quite what I meant. Sir Benjamin brought me here as a prospective husband for you. I am not sure what he has told you about me…’
‘Only that your father was an earl: that is looking pretty high for a baronet’s daughter.’ Her lilting smile jolted his senses. It took all his will-power not to drag her into his arms and cover her face with kisses, but he needed to talk to her.
‘Evelina—Eve, from our discussions this afternoon you know I have not led a blameless life, but I told you that will change when I take a wife. I have a comfortable income and two estates in the north. I can afford to give you a Season in town every year, should you wish it. You will have your own carriage and we could buy a property nearer Makerham, closer to your grandfather, if that is what you want.’
‘Captain Wylder, this is too soon!’
He put a finger against her lips. ‘Perhaps, but I do everything in a hurry, my dear; as soon as I saw you I knew that I wanted to wed you.’ He saw the confusion in her face and stopped. He drew away a little, took a breath and said gently, ‘You need not answer immediately. I merely want you to understand what I am offering you.’
There was a slight shadow in her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘That is all very well, Captain, but I do not understand what I can offer you.’
He hesitated, then said lightly, ‘I believe that you bring with you your mother’s property at Monkhurst.’
She laughed. ‘A rundown house on the edge of Romney Marsh! I love it, and spent some happy times there as a child, but no one has lived there since Mama and Papa died. It is a poor dowry, Captain Wylder. I fear I will get the best of this bargain, sir!’
His spirit soared. She was almost his, he could read it in her eyes. A dizzying happiness shook him. He ran his hands down her arms and caught her fingers.
‘No, Eve, I think I will have a great deal more than I bargained for!’
Eve stared at the dark head bent over her hands. This could not be happening to her; when she was at school she had read novels of handsome knights carrying off damsels in distress, but that was fantasy. Besides, she was not in distress. Or was she? She was twenty-four years old and she had never found anyone she would like to marry, nor was she likely to meet anyone while she lived in such seclusion. Her grandfather was much weaker than he had been even a few months ago. If he should die while she was still unmarried, then what would become of her? The vision of her cousin filled her mind. She had never liked Bernard, sensing in his nature a cruel streak that made her a little afraid of him. And now here was this handsome, dashing sea captain offering her his hand and he came with her grandfather’s blessing. There really was no choice.
Eve realised Nick was looking at her with a steady, unsettling gaze. She needed to say something. ‘How soon do you wish to be married, Captain Wylder?’
Goodness, how matter of fact she sounded.
‘By the end of the month.’
‘The end of the—!’
‘Why, yes, I see no reason to rush into this with a special licence. We have time for the banns to be read in church. We shall be married here, of course. I have no doubt that is what you would like—’
‘But I haven’t agreed to it yet!’
With a laugh he pulled her into his arms. ‘No, but you will.’
He was grinning down at her. Eve found it difficult to concentrate, her thoughts seemed to centre on the dimple in his left cheek.
‘Wh-what will Grandpapa say to such a hasty marriage?’
‘Oh I think he will agree.’ He kissed her, a sizzling, burning kiss that sent shockwaves tingling right down to her toes. ‘What say you, Eve, will you be my wife?’
‘But—’ She tried to collect her wayward thoughts. ‘We have only just met!’
‘And we have more than three weeks until the wedding to get to know one another.’ He kissed her again. ‘Well?’
She struggled out of his arms. ‘No, no. It is out of the question,’ she said crossly. ‘You appear out of nowhere, big and brash and—and totally overwhelming, and you expect me to agree to be your wife! No, sir, I will not do it!’
He dropped to his knees before her, throwing his arms wide. ‘Evelina, don’t you want to marry me?’
She clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘Get up, sir, before someone sees you!’
‘Not until you answer my question.’
Evelina stared at him. His blue eyes twinkled and that irrepressible dimple cut into his cheek. Heavens, was the man never serious?
‘Well, Evelina; will you give me your answer?’
A stillness settled over the garden. The birds were silent, not a breath of wind stirred the bushes; the whole world was hushed, waiting for her reply. Suddenly she knew that there was nothing she wanted more than to be married to Nick Wylder.
‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘I will marry you.’
Chapter Three
