No, no, no! What must I do? Thoughts whirled in her mind, but she stilled her expression and stepped away from him. “It is unfortunate, though suspiciously coincidental, that you and I are on the same passage home.” She moved farther away, ready to return to her cabin for the entire voyage. “If you’ll excuse me, I feel, after our experience at the tavern, we can have nothing to say to one another.”
“Come now, Lady Elizabeth. We have good reason to be congenial with one another. Many reasons, in fact, not the least of which is this long journey ahead.”
Dread filled her. Would she be trapped within her own quarters just to avoid him? “I see no need to be congenial with a man who felt it was perfectly within his rights to force an unwanted wedding upon me.”
His eyes flashed with something—perhaps anger—and she stepped back farther. But he stepped closer again, and before she could retreat from him altogether, he said, “You accepted my proposal. They read the banns. Your father signed the papers. If you think about it from my perspective, we are practically married already. And I was perfectly within my rights to complete the task and tie the knot, so to speak.” He chuckled to himself.
Was he capable of understanding how ridiculous he sounded? Just like when he told stories when no one else was interested, it was if he carried on his own personal dialogue.
“But, Lord Pinweather, then I left; I ran to America. I do not wish to marry you, as I hope I’ve made perfectly clear since the moment of my forced acceptance of your proposal.”
His face drained of color, and he clenched his right fist tightly. His lips twitched above his teeth, and Liz wasn’t sure if she’d hurt his feelings or angered him beyond speech. She said, “I do apologize for my unkind way of dealing with it though. I should have been honest. But my parents were forcing my hand. You were forcing my hand. I was being purchased, and I felt cheap because of it. And scared. So I did the only thing I knew I could do and ran. But my opinion is unchanged, and I hope you will respect the distance I wish to create between us.”
“And see? Here we are, at odds again. I was hoping to use this time to help you understand what a good match we could make.”
The captain approached. She had thought him a nice man, easy to talk to, when she’d met him before, but then he said, “Oh good, you found each other.” He winked at Lord Pinweather. “I’m always pleased to hear of budding romance on the ship.” Then he sidled up to Lord Pinweather and nudged him with his shoulder. “And, you know, I’ve performed a few weddings in my day. I originally trained and received a position in the church.”
Liz bristled, and fear pricked her heart. “I am not sure what this man has told you, Captain, but I am not at all interested in an alliance with him.”
“Ah, shy, just like you said.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m sure she’ll come around.” He leaned toward her. “I hear you’re in a bit of a bind yourself. He seems a good enough sort of chap.”
How did Lord Pinweather convince so many of his false plight? Exas-perated, she tried to speak with decorum. “I am in no need of an undesirable marriage, I assure you. I wish this plotting and planning to desist at once. Captain, if you move forward with any discussion about my marriage, it will be without my permission.”
He chuckled again. “Well, now, come, dear. I don’t see how that makes too much of a difference now, does it what with the papers already signed and this being a good situation for you?” The captain patted her shoulder in a patronizing way. His face seemed kind, open, and caring. He actually believed he was helping her, saving her from herself.
She shook her head. “I have nothing more to say, and further discussion will be fruitless. I do not agree. I cannot possibly accept his suit, and in a ceremony, I will most certainly say no when asked if I take his hand.”
But the captain continued chuckling in total disregard of anything she said. “I look forward to seeing you both over dinner.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless, of course, you would prefer to eat in steerage.”
She let out all the breath she had been holding and dropped her shoulders. “No, of course not. I am grateful for your generosity and for the invitation. Our other meals are taken in the galley, are they not?”
“All except for those we have in my dining room,” he confirmed.
This captain had excellent quarters, apparently. At least she would not be alone with Lord Pinweather. Perhaps she could maintain some propriety where he was concerned.
As the captain turned to leave, she left with him, walking at his side. He clucked. “You are a skittish one, aren’t you?”
She refused to answer, entering the corridor to the private cabins, shutting the door to her own behind her and sliding the lock into place.
She flopped onto her bed. What would she do now? Stay locked inside? She had to eat. And to rob her of the beauties to be seen on deck seemed particularly cruel. She could cower and hide and avoid Lord Pinweather the whole journey, perhaps, but more than likely, she would have to face him. She must find a way to be rid of him forever. No one else could save her now.
But instead of feeling empowered, she felt her hope drain. Nigel Pinweather defined persistence. He just did not, would not, understand her revulsion. And whatever story he told others, they believed and aided him.
***
Anthony and Lady Sariah walked together around the rose gardens at the side of the Barton estate. He reached for her hand, grateful for her calm presence through so much personal upheaval. “I do believe we will get along well together.”
She squeezed his fingers in her own. “I agree. Perhaps we can save the estate, help these poor tenants and create an industrious house.”
His heart warmed. “I am grateful you care so much about these kinds of details.”
“Well, no one has ever approached me with these kinds of problems before. It seems the estate and finances are much discussed among men. I appreciate your openness, and I am happy my dowry can help an excellent person like yourself manage such a good cause. The dowry was never really mine, after all.”
“I am honored you feel such confidence in me.”
She shuddered. “I am grateful the money will not be squandered away at the gaming tables.”
He winced, the shame for his brother’s actions still fresh. “I am sorry for the negative experience you have had with my brother.” He couldn’t believe things had worsened to such a degree. Todd had always been impulsive, had always played the tables, but Anthony had never seen signs of such extreme waste.
But he forced a cheery smile because while he might not be full of joy, he was full of gratitude. “Shall we announce our happy news at the ball Mother is planning?”
Concern flitted across her face. “Will you not propose first?”
His chest tightened. Of course he should. But he didn’t know if he was ready yet. Discussing how it could work was one thing, but committing to it was quite another. He knew he had no choice, but he couldn’t say the words, not yet. “Of course I shall. I will locate our family jewels and find my grandmother’s ring.”
Her expression cleared, and she smiled. “Thank you. My father will be most pleased.”
He tilted his head in question. He wondered, for the first time, if she too would be pleased. Was she being entirely open about her personal feelings?
“As am I.” Was he truly pleased? So much good could come from this union. But happiness was still elusive. Thoughts of Liz plagued him and destroyed his peace with their accompanying longing. But with thoughts of Liz came more tightness in his chest, more concern for the well-being of his estate. When he thought of Lady Sariah, he saw solutions.
A small portion of his chest loosened in relief. “I know we hardly know one another, so I thank you for doing this, for honoring an agreement made with my brother.”
“Things are much . . . better, now that you have returned.”
They walked back into the house, the roses’ scent filling his nose with sweetness while his heart felt heavier. He felt as if all the rocks under their feet shifted with each step to rest upon his shoulders.
The next day the two of them went to a musicale at her parents’ town house. Anthony sat beside her and studied her face. She was lovely. Her skin was bright, her eyes shone, and her heart was kind. If circumstances weren’t what they were, he could become quite taken with her. If he hadn’t met Liz. Again his heart ached, and again he pondered all the possibilities where she was concerned. Could he send for her? Somehow make it work between them?
He closed his eyes and tried to block thoughts of Liz, to banish them to the furthest reaches of his brain. Lady Sariah offered him a rope of rescue, one he had to take. If he didn’t, he would watch his estate crumble around him, his mother forced to live in a small country home and submit to the shaming of the ton.
“What is bothering you?” Lady Sariah’s breath tickled his ear as she leaned over to whisper.
He opened his eyes. “I apologize. I was considering the awful state of my family’s situation.” He shrugged. “I don’t suppose I am over the shock of it all.” The deception felt wrong. Would it ever be appropriate to confide in her of the feelings he felt for another?
“I can only imagine. We will make it right.” She patted his arm and settled back in her seat. A lovely debutante started to sing, and Anthony was taken back to the moment he’d heard Liz singing. He almost laughed remembering her riding in on a donkey cart, her brilliant soprano trills filling the air. As the current performer continued, he recognized the same number. His heart clenched, tightened inside him at the thought that he would never again hear Liz sing. He would probably never again see her face.
Lady Sariah’s soft whisper tickled his ear once more. “You seem anguished. Is there more to this sorrow than you are disclosing?”
There it was again, an opportunity to be completely honest. Was that wise? About all other matters, he had enjoyed a refreshing openness with Lady Sariah, which he would like to continue in their marriage. But Liz was not something he cared to discuss, and especially not with his almost betrothed. He did not want to keep Liz a secret; he was not ashamed of her. But what good could it do? And Liz was better as a memory.
So instead of admitting the truth of Lady Sariah’s words, he said simply, “Just more of the same, I’m afraid. Come, I will stop woolgathering and enjoy the music.”
“I hope you will, because I sing next.”
His eyes widened. “Do you, now? I am pleased to hear it and look forward to listening to you.” Her musical ability was another pleasant surprise about his almost intended. He hoped their house could be full of music. That his children would be taught to share their own talents.
Her piece was lovely. Her voice matched her personality, and he forced himself to be attentive. He could be very happy indeed with Lady Sariah, if he could just put aside his thoughts of Liz. He had never been free to care for Liz. So he should at last set aside his foolish fantasies and focus on the goodness of the life Lady Sariah offered and the benefit of her dowry to rescue them all.