A Most Unsuitable Groom by Kasey Michaels (15 page)

He smiled at her, attempting to gauge her reaction to his words. "Do you look at me and see a gentleman farmer, Mariah? Crops, cattle, horses—even sheep? Do you see me, see yourself, in America? A new land, Mariah. A fresh start. A home and a life to build. Something of us to give into William's hands one day, to all of our children?"

Mariah didn't know what to say to him. His words had come to her seemingly from out of the blue, totally unexpected. She could hear the intensity in his voiee and a hint of uncertainty, as if he wasn't sure of her reaction. A
new land. A fresh start.
God, what did the man need to put behind him?

Then again, what was here for him, a younger son, in Romney Marsh? His large family, for one thing. Perhaps too large? Perhaps even crushing him beneath its collective weight? To leave Becket Hall, this she could understand. But to leave England?

Perhaps he was looking for a home he felt was his.

And he was offering to take her and William with him. "I...I have nothing and no one holding me here, Spencer," she said at last, realizing that this was the truth. She had only William. She'd never had a home that was hers, but only a series of posts, traveling with her father, saving for the few years she'd had to stay behind in the Lake District while he served on the Peninsula.

She had no roots other than the ones she longed to put down somewhere for herself, for her son. A home of her own. A husband and family of her own. A place to build on for the future.

"Yes, Spencer," she said at last. "I can see both of us—all three of us—in America. Building something of value for William. But the war continues."

Spencer got to his feet, unable to sit still any longer, excitement coursing through him, not realizing how young he looked, how eager.. .and how vulnerable. "Ainsley tells me quiet negotiations are already underway to end the war. Don't ask how he knows this. He always knows everything and I'm convinced he's right. With Bonaparte banished, England is tired of war and nearly bankrupt with it. No one will win or lose in America. It will, in the end, be as if nothing had ever happened and no one had died over there."

"My father died over there, Spencer. His body is buried over there among so many others, where I cannot even hope to find his grave again let alone put flowers on it," Mariah said tightly. "I detest war."

"And I agree. The entire exercise has been one of futility and holding on to lands already our own, lands that weren't even threatened when we began the whole horrible mistake. In the end, the only ones to lose will be Tecumseh's Five Nations and the whole Indian population. I know this, Mariah, just as I believe he did, but I don't want to personally watch that inevitability, which is another reason to choose Virginia, far from the conflicts with the Indians that are bound to be small, bloody wars that last for years. But Virginia is already solidly in the hands of the Americans. I would find it difficult to aim down my rifle at an Indian, knowing Tecumseh's arguments about the land were sound, if futile."

Mariah twisted in her chair to watch Spencer as he spoke and paced. "You truly have given this a great deal of thought, haven't you? And you wouldn't miss your family too much?"

Spencer stopped, looked at her. "All of them would be a mere five- or six-week voyage away, and Ainsley is already investing rather heavily in those new steamships that will one day soon make the journey even shorter. It's not as if we'd have traveled to the opposite end of the earth. But only Ainsley—Papa—knows how I feel, what I want. I have his blessing. And I will earn the money he'll give me in order to travel to Virginia, buy land, build my house—our house. He knows I feel I have that obligation and has made.. .arrangements for me to earn whatever he gives me. I wouldn't feel comfortable about taking his money any other way."

"Earn it," Mariah said, also getting to her feet. "By overseeing the building of his new ship? That's very commendable, Spencer. Is that why you've been gone so much? Earning your way to.. .to freedom?"

Now it was Spencer who lowered his gaze to the carpet at his feet, thinidng of Edmund Beales, but then he recovered just as quickly and looked at her. "I wouldn't want to leave here until I knew everyone else was.. .settled. I owe that to Ainsley for all he's done for me. But, as he reminded me when I began stammering and stuttering out my dreams, he did not take us in to be his possessions, but only to guide us as we grew and then let us go our own way if that's what we wished. It's.. .it's difficult to explain Ainsley. He's an extraordinary man."

And a very secretive one,
Mariah reminded herself, although she didn't say that to Spencer. It was enough that they were speaking, actually getting along, getting to know each other better.

And Virginia was a long, long way from whatever was going on here, at Becket Hall. She'd believed Spencer when he said that the Beckets weren't smugglers. She'd believed that for at least four and twenty hours, until she'd overheard Fanny in a whispered argument with Rian about how he'd conveniently forgotten to tell her that
he
was riding out as the Black Ghost to meet the luggers instead of Spencer.

The Black Ghost? The name sounded romantic; what that Black Ghost did sounded so very dangerous. How Mariah longed to confront Spencer with what she knew...except that she knew so little and he lied so
smoothly.

Yes, Virginia and a new, fresh start seemed the perfect answer.

Now to worry about whatever it was Spencer seemed to think he still
owed
Ainsley before they could leave...

"Mariah?"

She shook herself back to attention, to realize that William was crying in the next room. "Oh, our voices must have woken him."

"Should I go find Sheila Whiting?"

"No, that's not necessary. He nursed only a short while ago. I'll just walk with him for a while, until he goes back to sleep."

"You shouldn't have to do that," Spencer told her, following her into the dressing room. "He should be in the nursery."

Mariah scooped the crying child up and onto her shoulder, patting his back as she rocked from side to side. William began to settle himself almost immediately. "Nonsense. He's my son. And I'm no grand society lady who only sees her children when she happens to turn down the wrong hallway in her great London mansion."

Spencer laughed. "We're going to rub along together just fine, aren't we, Mariah, you and I." He stepped closer, ran the back of his fingers down her smooth cheek. "Thank you again for saving my life and for giving me William. Thank you for.. .for listening to me."

Mariah didn't know how to answer him. She fairly basked in his nearness, gloried in his love for his son and had at last begun to believe the three of them could become a real family. If only she hadn't overheard Fanny and Rian. If only she could pretend that she didn't know Spencer had looked firmly into her eyes and then lied to her and would probably continue to lie to her until whatever hold Becket Hall and Ainsley Becket held over him was satisfied.

What good was anything, any one place, if she and Spencer couldn't seem to trust each other enough to be entirely honest with one another?

"Spencer," she began, still not quite sure what she was going to say and then there was a knock on the door to the hallway and Jacko's voice could be heard through the thick wood.

"Do your mooning over the fruit of your loins another time, bucko. Cap'n wants you downstairs in his study. Now. And dress warm, it'll be nippy out in the Channel."

"Damn the man," Spencer said at the interruption, sure something had gone wrong just when one thing in his life seemed to at last be going right.

"Spencer? You're going out now? Tonight? Why?"

His expression had closed, become unreadable after so many wonderful minutes during which she was sure he was at last showing her at least a piece of his heart. "I have no idea. But duty appears to be calling me." He cupped a hand around her neck as he bent to kiss the top of William's head and then kissed her forehead, as well. "Saturday morning, Mariah. And, after the ceremony...Saturday night and beyond. You'll think about the rest of our lives?"

"I...I..."

"The word was
now,
bucko," Jacko called out loudly in his deep, booming voice and William began to cry once more.

Spencer kissed her open mouth. "I ask only that you think about it," he said and then left her, pausing with his hand on the door handle to look back at his soon-to-be wife and their son, his heart aching—a reaction he needed time to think about, time he didn't have now. "A whole new life, Mariah."

Then he pulled open the door, stepped into the wide hallway and glared at Jacko, who was grinning at him, his eyebrows raised, his hands stuck deep into his pockets, the great big bear attempting to look sheepish. "I woke young William? I didn't mean to do that."

Spencer closed the door behind him, unimpressed by Jacko's show of embarrassment. "You didn't mean to do anything, Jacko. You never do. Unless it's watching the rest of us jump through hoops for your amusement. It's well after ten. What's wrong?"

"Word's just come from Calais. Seems you, together with Ainsley's bits of gold, have finally done it There's someone important come to town, hiding his face inside a fancy black closed coach escorted by eight ugly-looking bastards on horseback, and being sneaked up the back stairs at the best hotel in the whole Frenchie town."

Spencer almost asked Jacko when someone was going to tell him that he hadn't been the only one crossing the Channel on the hunt for Edmund Beales, but held back in time. He should have realized that fact on his own. Ainsley Becket left little to chance and had probably had someone watching his son's back, guarding him, the entire time he'd thought he was on his own. He could be angry about that, but Ainsley was just being Ainsley. Careful. And always thinking.

"I'll assume the crew has already been alerted. Luckily, the sky is full of stars tonight to guide us across the Channel. Give me five minutes to change and collect Clovis and Anguish and I'll be ready to leave."

"Not before you talk to the Cap'n. He's waiting on you in his study."

William held close against her shoulder, Mariah stepped back from the door, having had her ear pressed to it for the past minute or more. She kissed the sleeping infant and placed him back in his cradle with hands she wished weren't trembling, before tiptoeing back into her bedchamber, heading straight for her clothespress. A moment to dress, another to find Onatah to tell her to sit with William and she could be heading down the servant stairs to the back hallway and Ainsley's study.