Authors: Laura Landon
Abigail turned her head, unable to battle the harshness she saw in his eyes. She wanted to scream out her renunciation, to tell him she hadn’t meant her words, but it was too late. The damage was already done.
He lifted his shoulders and walked away from her. “We’ll be married as soon as you change your gown,” he said through clenched teeth.
She ignored his anger. She’d expected as much. She couldn’t, however, ignore the hurt she’d caused. Never in her life had she intentionally set out to be cruel. She suddenly couldn’t stand up beneath the guilt or the self-loathing. She reached for the corner of the bed to hold her steady.
“Your clothes are there,” he said pointing to the two chests. “Choose something for your wedding that isn’t black.”
She searched for something to say that would make things better, but his outstretched hand stopped her.
“To you this may not be a joyous occasion, but you do not have to announce to the world how distasteful you find taking my name.”
She stiffened beneath his latest assault. “I’ll have Stella help me and will have all my clothes moved into the cabin with her and Mary Rose.”
“You’ll stay here. This is our room.”
Her eyes opened wide as she glanced at the bed against the wall. “But there is only one bed. You said—”
“I said I’d not touch you, and I won’t.”
“You can’t expect us to—”
“You’ve demanded enough for today.” He threw open the door. “I’ll send for you in an hour.” The door slammed behind him.
She sat down on the bed, her head throbbing and her eyes burning with unshed tears. It was too late to feel anything now other than a hurt more painful than she ever thought she’d have to endure.
How dare he kidnap her and force her to marry him. How dare he take Mary Rose from the convent and spirit them both away. How dare he tell her he cared for her. Didn’t he know what torture that would be for her? Couldn’t he tell she cared for him, too, and that she would die a little each day when she had to bury her feelings?
Damn him for everything he’d done and for expecting her to dutifully obey his every command. She should have known to be wary of him when he’d first come to the house demanding she give him what belonged to Stephen. When he’d purchased the deed to Fallen Oaks. When he’d forced her to accept his offer of marriage. She should have known not to trust him.
But then he’d kissed her, and all reason had left her. And marrying him would only have made things worse.
She dropped her head to her hands and wept.
Abigail stood at the railing on the deck of the
Emerald Gold
, waiting to begin the ceremony that would wed her to a man she was a fool to marry. It was the first time in over a year she’d worn anything but black, and even though the light-blue satin gown was slightly out of fashion, it was soft and feminine and made her feel special.
The fact that it had never been worn before somehow seemed important for her wedding.
The bodice was moderately low and square-cut, edged in gathered lace and trimmed with the daintiest clusters of blue embroidered flowers adorned with pearls. The full skirt had an inverted V-shaped inset of ivory satin that started at a narrow point at the waist and tented to a wide opening down the front of the gown. Yards and yards of ivory lace strips crowded atop each other in cascading tiers of ruffles. She smoothed her hands over the elegant fabric, the softness of the color almost succeeding in lightening her day.
“You make a beautiful bride,” Ethan said from behind her. His soft voice sounded almost amicable, as if he wanted to reassure her what was happening was for the best.
Abigail turned her head to give him a look that showed him how much she disagreed. Her heart leaped to her throat. No one had a right to be so handsome, especially the man she’d ignore for the rest of her life.
She swallowed hard, then turned back to stare at the endless expanse of water in front of her. She tried to convince herself she could survive this. She told herself that as long as the marriage wasn’t consummated, it could be annulled. She told herself that it wouldn’t be that long before they returned to London. She tried to convince herself that she could avoid him for that long. If only he wouldn’t hold her. If only he wouldn’t kiss her.
He stood next to her and braced his hands against the railing. He looked out over the water with her. She imagined he couldn’t concentrate on the gently rolling waves any more than she could.
“Stella has gone to bring Mary Rose up from below. I thought perhaps you’d want her to be with you. As soon as she arrives, we’ll begin.”
Abigail ignored her trepidation and took another deep breath. “If we didn’t marry—”
“You would never see Mary Rose again.”
She breathed a deep sigh and lowered her head. Was there nothing she could do to stop this from happening? His next words stopped her cold.
“Even if Stephen were to come back tomorrow, he wouldn’t marry you, Abby.”
She flashed him a look of disbelief. “You think that is why I don’t want to marry you? Because I’m waiting for Stephen to come back?”
She couldn’t stop an unnatural laughter from escaping. “I wouldn’t marry Stephen if he came with the Queen herself to plead his cause.”
“Then why? Why is it so difficult to marry me?”
“That is not really the question, sir. The question is why do you want to marry me, knowing I’ll never be a wife to you.”
He smiled. “Because I’ve the patience to wait for you to change your mind. Never is a very long time. At sea, even the most novice seaman knows how drastically lives can change with the next passing storm cloud. We have all learned not to make threats or promises we aren’t sure we can keep.”
“But I’m sure.”
“So you’ve said.”
Every muscle in her body stiffened. “Will you make me one promise then?”
“If I can,” he said, his voice containing a hint of wariness.
“Will you promise you will care for her as if she were your own and never threaten to take her away from me again?”
Ethan looked at her in wide-eyed astonishment. “Why are you afraid I’ll want to take her away? You are her mother.”
The air left her body.
He stepped closer to her, as if he could sense how concerned she was. “I’ll make you this promise, Abby.” He placed his hand over hers. “I promise there will always be a place for Mary Rose in the home you and I make together, and I promise to love her as my very own.”
His words were meant to reassure her, but he didn’t understand. He would never understand. The truth would only tear them apart.
She turned away from him, and her gaze locked with Captain MacDonnell’s. He stood in the center of the deck with a small black leather book in his hands. Stella stood nearby with Mary Rose in her arms and Palmsworth at her side.
Several of the crewmen of the
Emerald Gold
stood in a semicircle, the smiling grins on their faces evidence enough that they thought this a perfect match for their captain. She wondered how they’d feel when they found out their captain had married a murderer.
Ethan held out his arm and led her forward. Abby looked at Mary Rose when they passed her. The babe, usually bashful and shy around anyone she didn’t know, sat in Stella’s arms as alert and interested in what was going on as everyone else. The tyke focused on Ethan, as if she would leap into his arms if he’d hold them out to her.
What she saw made her angry. She wouldn’t let Mary Rose become attached to him. He offered them a life neither of them could have.
“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she whispered softly enough so no one heard her but him.
He turned and skimmed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Yes, you will.”
A riot of shivers raced through her. She struggled to hold on to her anger so she would never forget what he’d done to her.
Mac began the ceremony, saying the words every girl dreams of hearing from the moment she’s old enough to suffer her first bout of lovesickness. They were words Abigail dreaded hearing.
“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To…”
She glanced over her shoulder to look at Mary Rose. The child’s chubby arms reached forward for Abigail to hold her. Her laughing eyes were keen to everything happening around her. Her garbled sounds were the beginning of what would soon be words.
Mac had reached the part in the ceremony where she’d have to say her vows. The blood thundered in her head. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to scream her refusal but couldn’t take the chance Ethan would make good his threat to abandon her at the nearest port and take Mary Rose away with him.
In the end, she’d no choice but to take a deep breath and answer, “I do.”
Mac repeated the words and Ethan answered with the same. “I do.”
After an appropriate length of anticipation, she heard Mac say the words, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
It was too late. She was Mrs. Ethan Cambridge.
She looked down at the ring Ethan had placed on her finger, then up when Mac gave Ethan permission to kiss his bride.
She knew he intended to kiss her before he placed his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head upward. Before he smiled a satisfied grin and lowered his head. Before he covered her mouth with his.
She prayed for a chaste kiss, but knew he wouldn’t oblige. She knew he would take this opportunity to show her what he intended for their marriage.
She wanted to break off the kiss, but he wouldn’t let her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tight.
The kiss was deep and possessive and hungry, his lips soft and warm and inviting. He kissed her like he had the other times. Until she could no longer think. Until she was powerless to do anything but lean into him and answer his demands with challenges of her own. Until she never wanted him to stop.
She couldn’t do that now. Allowing him to kiss her that way would be the biggest mistake she could make. She turned her head and broke the kiss amidst the raucous shouts and cheers of the sailors aboard the
Emerald Gold
.
Her cheeks burned fiery hot when he turned her around to face his still-cheering crewmen.
The noise startled Mary Rose. She wrinkled up her face with a look of fright, ready to cry, but before she could utter the first whimper, Ethan reached out and took her in his arms. Her fussing stopped.
He stood before the crew, holding Mary Rose in one arm and clasping the other around his wife’s shoulder. The crew gave several more hearty cheers, then one by one went back to their duties. Mac held out his hand to offer his congratulations, as did Stella and Palmsworth. Then they, too, walked away. And she was left alone.
Alone with a baby who wasn’t hers and a husband who never could be.
. . .
Ethan leaned back against his chair and watched her sleep. She was in bed now, where he’d put her. But that wasn’t where he’d found her when he’d walked into his cabin long after he was certain she should be asleep. He’d found her curled in a tight ball atop a makeshift bed of blankets she’d placed on the floor beneath the porthole. It was almost as if she couldn’t force herself to climb into his bed for fear he might find her there and think her presence was an invitation for him to join her.
The light from a full moon shone through the opening, casting her delicate features in opalescent splendor. He let his vivid imagination—and his eyes—roam.
Every detail of her face seemed even more perfect than before—the noble rise of her high cheekbones, the slight tilt of her nose, the lush fullness of her lips. He couldn’t believe it was possible for one person to be so beautiful.
He remembered kissing her after Mac had pronounced them husband and wife. The look in her eyes had begged him not to, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to hold her in his arms and feel her lips beneath his. He wanted to unleash the passion she thought she could deny and prove she was not immune to his kisses. And he had. He’d felt her answer his kisses with a desire almost too powerful to restrain. She was a wealth of untapped emotions waiting to be released.
She breathed a deep sigh, then turned her head to the side. Even though she slept, her rest was not peaceful. He’d been afraid it wouldn’t be. Much had happened to her today. If ever there was a time when her nightmares might return, he knew it would be tonight. He didn’t want her to be alone.
He felt a twinge of guilt at what he’d done: deceiving her, then kidnapping her, then forcing her to marry him. But he’d had no choice. Stephen wouldn’t come back to her. Harper’s letter confirmed that. Stephen was as irresponsible today as he’d been nearly two years ago when he’d abandoned her. He couldn’t let her live a secluded life waiting for Stephen to come back to her, without anyone to watch over her. Without anyone to love her. He cared for her too much to let that happen.
His heart shifted in his chest. He didn’t know when it had happened, but he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life without her. He was sure that in time she’d come to feel the same.
If she could bring herself to forget Stephen.
Her sleep became more restless. A frown deepened across her forehead. Deep worry lines stretched over the flat line of her brows. She tossed her head from side to side as she clutched handfuls of the quilted counterpane in her fists. He walked to the bed and sat beside her.
A soft moan echoed in the silence, then a whimper, and finally a cry.
“Abby, wake up.” He brushed the coppery hair from her face. “You’re dreaming. It’s only a dream.”
“Oh, no. Please. Don’t. Please, don’t.”
“It’s all right. Everything is all right.”
“Papa, no! Oh, Stephen!”
She tossed her head from one side to the other. She slashed her fists through the air as if battling a legion of demons. Each breath was an agonizing gasp for air. A light sheen of perspiration skimmed her face as she fought to breathe.
Ethan clasped her shoulders and lifted her to him just as a heart-wrenching sob escaped her lips. “It’s all right, Abby,” he whispered, holding her close. “You’re safe now. Nothing can harm you.”
“I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t.”