The Smuggler and the Society Bride (25 page)

Flustered, Gabe tried to pick up the threads of the explanation he'd mentally rehearsed to give Honoria's family, if she consented to marry him. ‘My family owns some of the prettiest acres in Southern Ireland, but I've long known I would never be content overseeing one of my brother's holdings. My recent time as a free-trader confirmed that the sea's in my
blood, and though I don't wish to remain in the trade and risk making Honoria a widow before she's scarcely been a wife, I do mean to continue at sea.'

‘You'll seek a naval commission?'

‘No, I had my fill of regimentation whilst in the Army. I've interested a small group of investors, and with their blunt and some of my own, I intend to purchase a ship. Just a small sloop at first, but sound enough for ocean sailing and commodious enough to carry a good cargo of legitimate goods. Art, woollen goods, artefacts. Spices from the Indies; pineapple from the tropics. I'll sail her wherever there are desirable goods needing transit from their place of production to a market with willing buyers.'

‘And you want to bring my sister into this vagabond life?'

‘If she'll have me. She may prefer returning to the life she's always known, the life you can offer her, conventional marriage to a respectable society gentleman. Love her as I do, I could never be that. But I can give her moonlight on the sea, the ship's wake a phosphorescent glow in the blackness. The pearl of dawn, when out of the shadowy greyness the sky slowly distinguishes itself from the sea. Tropic beaches gleaming in the sun, the great endless green stretches of hardwood forest in the Americas. I intend to be very persuasive,' he concluded, having no intention of telling her elder brother what other, more intimate techniques he meant to employ.

Stanegate smiled. ‘You're convincing me. Is Sir Nigel one of your investors?'

Gabe laughed at the thought. ‘My brother would rather throw his gold into the sea than have it used to sully the name of Hawksworth with trade.'

‘Would you be willing to let me buy in? By the way, I think you and my sister are a pair, Captain. Honoria has chafed at the confines placed upon gently-born maidens the whole of her life. Always she's wanted to have a man's freedom, a man's adventures. When you return to London to complete your nego
tiations, come see me. After all, if my sister is going to be living in a captain's cabin, I'd better make sure the ship is top-of-the-line.'

‘You won't object?' Gabe asked, scarcely believing he could be hearing correctly.

‘No.' Stanegate walked over and offered his hand. ‘You certainly don't need it and probably don't want it, but nonetheless I give you blessing. I wish you joy with my sister, Captain. She'll lead you a merry dance.'

Dazedly, Gabe shook his hand. ‘Good luck to you, too, my lord. Did you find Hebden, by the way?'

Stanegate's jaw tightened. ‘No. By the time my agents arrived at Bloomsbury Square, the house was deserted, the knocker already off the door. I intend to keep hunting. If he remains in England, I shall run him to ground.'

‘Good,' Gabe said, nodding. Recalling Hebden's strongly expressed sense of being an instrument of destiny, Gabe warned, ‘I don't think he's done yet.'

‘I'm afraid you are right,' Stanegate replied, looking grim.

Just then Dickin's sister Tamsyn walked in through the servant's door and stopped short. ‘Captain Hawksworth!' she cried, awe in her voice.

‘Miss Tamsyn,' Gabe said, giving her a bow. ‘I've come to call upon Miss Marie. Will you tell her I'm here?'

‘She's not in the house, Captain. She left not half an hour ago, walking toward the cliff path.'

Gabe glanced back at Stanegate. ‘I'll see you later, my lord. It appears I'm going for a stroll.'

O
n a flat rock overlooking Sennlack Cove, Honoria sat, face to the brisk wind, Verity's letter secured in both fists. Upon unfolding it and seeing the familiar script, she'd been struck by a wholly unexpected longing for her little sister, that paragon of perfection she'd so often found annoying when they occupied the same house. Something, Honoria recognized sadly, they were unlikely to ever do again, despite the wish Verity expressed in her letter that Honoria might soon return to them.

Verity missed Honoria acutely, she wrote, her intelligence, her wit and her insightful observations on the events and personages in London. As for the scandal, truly she had never heard overmuch about it, and nothing at all this last month.

Marcus had advised her to make no comment if anyone discussed it, and though he must know best—Honoria rolled her eyes at this—it had often been very hard to remain silent. Whatever reason her sister had for going to meet Lord Barwick, Verity knew it must have been a good one. If anyone wished to cut her acquaintance over the matter, she was quite willing that they do so, since if they wanted to condemn Honoria, Verity did not wish to know them anyway.

Honoria halted, tears making the words blur. She felt both
a pang of guilt and a wave of affection at her little sister's fierce loyalty.

Swiping a hand over her eyes, she resumed reading, then exclaimed with concern at discovering that Verity's childhood friend, soldier Rhys Morgan, had been badly wounded. When Honoria returned, Verity went on, perhaps they could visit and cheer him, poor man, since Marc had said the injuries were so severe that Rhys would not be able to return to soldiering. Verity hoped Lord Keddinton, who was godfather to them both, might be able to find a position for him somewhere in the government.

As a girl, Honoria recalled, her sister had been quite infatuated with Rhys, though she claimed to have outgrown it. Had she? Was the noble soldier the right man for her sweet, innocent, courageous little sister, who saw the best in everyone and fiercely defended the people she loved—even flawed mortals who'd often failed to appreciate her, like Honoria?

Certainly Verity deserved to find a fearless, principled man who would cherish her with the same passionate abandon Verity offered up to all whom she loved.

Suddenly a realization brought her up short, a truth so essential it seared straight through all her doubts and confusion to resonate in the depths of her soul.

Alluring as it might be to play the siren and seduce Gabe again, passionate abandon without true love to enrich it wasn't enough. In time, a bond fuelled only by passion's fire would burn low, leaving behind the ash of disillusionment and regret.

She wanted to be loved with the same purity and fierceness, nobility and honour that Verity loved her family. Nothing less would last. Nothing less would do.

Even if it meant she had to stand aside and watch Gabriel Hawksworth sail away, leaving her behind on the cliffs, for ever looking out over the sea at a love that had tacked just out of reach, as Aunt Foxe's had.

The turbulence of her feelings calmed as the rightness of
that decision settled over her. With a sigh of regret, she let go the image of the siren on the cliffs.

Would the captain be able to offer her devotion as well as passion? Oh, that he might return so she could put an end to this wretched uncertainty!

She was folding the letter when a shadow fell over it. Startled, she glanced sharply up—and he was there.

In a flash, Honoria leapt up. She was about to throw herself into his arms and pull his head down for a kiss, when she recalled she'd just decided she wanted more than passion. She would be cherished, too—or have nothing.

‘Captain Hawksworth!' she said, dropping her arms back to her sides. ‘How wonderful to see you!'

‘Miss Foxe.' Smiling tenderly, he reached out, running his hand over her cheek, then drawing a fingertip across her lips, which quivered and burned. ‘It's delightful to see you again, too.'

Honoria had to concentrate very hard to remember why she'd decided not to play the siren. Needing to focus on something other than the urge to suck his finger into her mouth while she brought a hand up to stroke…something else, she said, ‘Please, tell me everything you discovered in London.'

Gesturing at her to resume her seat, he propped a boot against the rock. ‘I discovered everything we could wish! Stephano Beshaley alone planned your ruin. He seems to think himself divinely appointed to carry out the curse his mother placed upon all the families involved in his father's murder. Once he realized the identity of the lady arguing with her fiancé at the jeweller's, he immediately saw an opportunity to strike back at the Carlows by destroying your life, as his had been destroyed—an innocent for an innocent. He sent the note to Barwick, hired the footman to summon all the parties to the garden—then watched with satisfaction as his scheme unfolded just as he'd designed.

‘I alerted your brother,' he continued, ‘and he has hired
agents to track Hebden down, thus far without success. Stanegate also promised to turn his efforts to restoring your reputation and returning you to Society.'

‘Yes, so he told me. Except I don't wish to go back, even if Marc could arrange it. I love Cornwall: the cliffs, the vista of an endless, restless sea. I like feeling useful, helping the girls and Eva.'

‘Ah, yes, Eva! I showed her pastels to Mr Avery, the owner of the European Picture Gallery, who was most enthusiastic. He bought them all and wants more.'

So distracted was she by his presence, she'd forgotten to tell him the news that had shocked all of Sennlack. ‘You won't imagine what happened with Laurie! After the ambush, Father Gryffd insisted on bringing her, Eva and their mother to stay at the vicarage to protect them from possible retribution by John Kessel. The vicar, who apparently had always admired Laurie, asked her to marry him! Though she protested that such a thing was impossible, in the end he convinced her. Knowing folks hereabouts would have difficulty treating her with the respect due his wife, he announced last Sunday he's accepted a position with the Methodists to preach in the Americas. Since, of course, Laurie wouldn't go off and leave her mother and sister behind, they are moving to America, too.'

‘I'm so glad they will all have the chance for a new life together—and I can see that to bring Eva's art to the world, I'm going to have include a stop in the Americas among my voyaging. Now, what of you? You truly don't intend to accept the new life your brother wants to offer you?'

She shook her head. ‘Even if I wanted to return, I don't see how I could without my presence reviving the scandal and hurting Verity. That I can never do.'

‘Could you be happy living apart from Society?'

‘I think all my happiness requires is the reform of a certain smuggler. After that attack by the revenue agents, I fear for all the free-traders. You have decided to give up the trade, Tamsyn said?'

‘Yes. I've turned the
Gull
back to her former captain. My days as a free-trader are over.'

She'd hoped that would be true, but having him confirm it removed a huge weight of anxiety. ‘Wonderful! What…shall you do, then?' she asked, trying not to sound too anxious.

‘I shall stay with the sea, but as a legitimate trader, buying, transporting and selling goods to willing customers. I shall sail wherever the wind takes me, from the tropics to the Orient, the sandalwood coast of Brazil to the timber-rich forests of America, acquiring and bringing back treasures.'

He directed that intense blue-eyed gaze at her, which set her stomach fluttering, as it always did. ‘Your brother seemed to think you would find such a life exhilarating.'

He might only mean that Marcus had told him she'd always yearned for adventure. But he'd given her a perfect opening, and summoning all her courage, she replied, ‘I would find such a life perfect, if a certain captain invited me to sail with him.'

He studied her closely. ‘Are you saying what I think you are saying?'

‘I'm telling you what I would have said that day at the cove, when you forbade me to make promises I might later regret. I'm telling you my happiness lies not in places or titles or position, but in being with you. Aunt Foxe once advised me that love is a rare and precious gift; if one is lucky enough to find it, one should seize and savour it. I love you, Gabriel Hawksworth. I want to seize and savour life with you.'

For a moment, while her heart trembled between hope and despair, he said nothing. Then he grabbed her hands and began covering them with kisses, and she laughed with the sheer exuberant joy of knowing he loved her after all.

‘So, too, do I want to seize and savour life with you! I can't offer you anything to compare to the position you'll forfeit in choosing me over your family—but I offer myself. All my heart, all my loyalty, all my devotion. I'll work my whole life to be worthy of you. Will you marry me, my heart?'

She shook her head, tears misting her eyes, hardly daring to believe the wonder of it. Out of humiliation and disgrace, she'd found a perfect love for all time.

‘No, 'tis I who must work my whole life to be worthy of
you
. A man who believed in me when my own family did not. Who sought out my enemies and vanquished them, giving me back my honour. I want to spend my life with the man who loved me not for being an earl's daughter but for who I am, who taught me the world I've always known is well lost for the chance to be a smuggler's lady.'

‘Nay,' he said, pulling her into his arms. ‘To be a sea captain's wife.'