A Most Unsuitable Groom by Kasey Michaels (26 page)

Mariah smiled, because she knew she was supposed to, and then she lifted the sleeping William from his cradle and handed him to Eleanor. "Here, why don't you carry him downstairs for me? I forgot something in my chamber and need to fetch it."

Eleanor tucked William close against her breast. 'Thank you, Mariah. And I'll watch over him while you and Spencer are in London. Please, stay safe. No matter what may or may not happen, coming back here to William is more important than anything or anyone else. One way or another, as Papa has said, the world will go on."

"We'll be fine, I promise. The, um, the plan? It's already going forward?"

Eleanor nodded, suddenly very businesslike. "Court and Jack and Jacko lifted anchor hours before dawn and Billy is already well on his way to Chance's estate. The men who will accompany you and Spencer and Rian to London have been chosen and are being prepared. And your bridegroom is cooling his heels in the drawing room, waiting for his bride. I know you must feel rushed, but Papa was adamant about this marriage, that it not be delayed any longer. He can be quite.. .sentimental."

Mariah wasn't surprised that Eleanor knew their plans, even as Callie had only been told that they were taking a wedding trip to the metropolis. Callie was still a child, and her father's own child at that. As Mariah returned to her chamber to gather what she'd forgotten, she wondered if Ainsley Becket would ever be able to let Callie go.. .the child of his beloved and tragically lost Isabella.

"And that's enough thinking for the moment," Mariah told herself sternly. "It's time to face going downstairs to marry the man who has threatened to make love to you until the entire world fades away."

When she entered the drawing room it was to see all of the Beckets still in residence already there, chatting with each other and then turning as one to look at her as she made her entrance. It was a small but fine-looking gathering of people, all strong and confident people, all united in a way that most families bound by blood would envy.

She looked to Fanny, whom she'd barely gotten to know, and the girl smiled back at her, then winked. Mariah took that to mean that she'd been accepted, and that was nice.

But then Spencer stepped forward and she forgot anyone else was in the room.

He was dressed in a fine dark-bluejacket and fawn pantaloons, the lace at his throat as white as Canadian snow, his eyes and his barely tamed hair as dark as a moonless night, his skin as golden as the sun and his heritage made it.

She'd seen this man wounded and vulnerable. She'd seen him both careless and carefree. She'd experienced his anger, watched him play the fool, marveled at the sight of him up on the deck of the
Respite,
looking longingly out to sea. And now she saw him in the trappings of a gentleman, his fire scarcely tamed, only marginally contained. This was the man who'd made William with her, the man whose blood flowed in her son's veins. He was so many men, this Spencer Becket, and she wanted to know all of them...all of him.
Until the world fades away....

"Here," he said, handing her a large bouquet of flowers. "Jacko cut them for you personally before he set sail. I'd say this means he's officially approved of you. It's up to you whether you want to feel flattered or turn on your heels and run from here as fast as possible."

Mariah sniffed at a pale pink rose nestled in with several others. "What a strange man he is, isn't he? I have to remember to thank him when he returns."

Spencer held out his hand to her, as she held out hers to him and allowed him to lead her toward the grey-haired stranger standing in front of the fireplace, an open prayer book in his hands.

But before the vicar could say a word, Odette, dressed all in white from the enormous scarf wound about her head to the slippers on her feet, approached them to lay colorful silk scarves around their shoulders. She then recited a prayer in a mix of French and some language Mariah could not understand, moved her right hand in the air to sketch the sign of a cross and bowed to them before returning to the side of the room where Onatah stood, her wizened, small, walnut-shell face solemn yet shining.

After that, the ceremony was blessedly brief, with Spencer squeezing her hand as the vicar intoned the word
obey,
and her returning that squeeze while trying not to giggle. Giggles then became the furthest thing from her mind as Spencer slipped a gold and emerald ring onto her finger, the weight of the thing telling her of its worth and the seriousness of the bond that was now between them.

And when the ceremony was over she barely had time to think about Spencer's quick, hard kiss as she was passed from one Becket to another, all of them kissing her cheeks, hugging her, welcoming her to the family.

Anyone would think she hadn't shown up on their doorstep heavy with child, all but forcing this day on them.

And then William was christened, still held tight in Eleanor's arms, but with every Becket sibling also standing for the child who would never be lacking in family love and protection. That thought alone was enough to bring tears to Mariah's eyes and she took hold of Spencer's hand and urged him out into the hallway.

"Is something wrong? I know we can be a bit overpowering at times..."

"No, no, I like your family very much. Even Odette, who I most sincerely hope was blessing us," Mariah assured him, stepping away from the open doorway as she reached into the pocket of her gown. "It's just that I wanted to give you this," she said, holding out her father's pocket watch and fob, the man's most treasured possession, which she'd taken from his still-warm body that day outside of Moraviantown. "I miss him so very much."

"I know, Mariah. I.. .we'll all do our best to protect you for him. We're your family now, which should frighten you not a little bit," he said, smiling at her, trying to ease her pain.

Mariah nodded, took a steadying breath. "One day, when he's grown, you can give it to William."

Spencer looked down at the watch, then closed his fingers around it. Why couldn't he relax? He felt so stiff, so formal. He hadn't even told Mariah how beautiful she looked. "I'm honored, Mariah. And humbled. And, until that day, I'll wear it in remembrance of a good man."

Mariah smiled, releasing her breath in relief. "I know it's not much, not worth a pittance compared to this ring..." She stopped speaking as a thought struck at her, looked at him seriously. "Was this ring.. .was it part of... ?"

Spencer didn't pretend not to know what she was asking. 'The gold was fashioned here, in our smithy, Mariah," he told her. "But that emerald definitely sailed an ocean at one time and landed at a destination not intended by its original owner. Do you mind?"

Mariah looked down at the ring, the huge stone. "Well, at least you're honest about your thievery," she told him, and then grinned. "Papa won his watch in a card game with a wealthy, well-born and very stupid captain of the Guards."

"Now I'm doubly honored to have it," Spencer told her, slipping the watch into the pocket of his waistcoat, attaching the fob. He sensed her nervousness, wished it away, just as he wished his own away, and turned serious. "Just as I'm honored to be your husband, Mariah. I know we're still strangers with so much to learn about each other, but now we've got the rest of our lives, don't we? The rest of our honest and upstanding lives."

Mariah bit her bottom lip between her teeth as she nodded. "Eleanor.. .Eleanor told me to remember that the world goes on no matter what and that we need to protect ourselves so that we come back here to William. But we owe it to William to give him the best world possible, don't we? Not a world of complete peace, because Ainsley was right, that's impossible. But the very best world we can give our son."

"One without Edmund Beales in it, yes." Spencer cupped her chin in his hand, his dark eyes smoldering as he looked at her intensely. "You don't have to go to London with me tomorrow, Mariah. You know I don't want you to go, in any case. William needs at least one of us."

She pulled her head away from him. "One of us? He'll have both of us, Spencer. And he'll have Virginia and a whole new world of promise. You Said so and you damn well had better have meant it."

Spencer smiled while once again silently questioning whether she wanted him or merely a safe home in Virginia. "Married less than an hour and already arguing. Does this bode well for our next fifty years, wife?"

She almost softened, but then quickly glared up at him. "Oh, no. Don't think you can change the subject, Spencer Becket. You all think you're such masters of diverting me, but it won't work. When I wake tomorrow morning, it will be to see you lying beside me."

He was more than happy to tease her. "Ah, this gets better and better. An invitation."

She refused to rise to his bait or be embarrassed by his words. She had to know that he wasn't going to trick her, escape to London without her. "No, a command. If I don't wake up to see you, if you've left without me, watch your back in London, Spencer, because it won't be just Renard who will be aiming at that back."

Onatah, who felt most comfortable in Odette's rooms, swept past them down the hall, muttering something in her own tongue as she went. Something that had Mariah flushing to the roots of her hair.

"Don't tell me. Making an honest woman of you or not, I'm still the fornicating son of a three-legged cur, correct?"

Mariah lowered her head, shook it. "No. She reminded me that I am your woman now, and should not speak to my master with the sharp tongue of the serpent if I wish for many cooking pots and bearskins."

Spencer's smile was wide and delighted. "I knew that woman was a treasure the first time I saw her. You'd be wise to listen to her, although I don't think you should pin your hopes on a bearskin, as bears are in rather short supply on Romney Marsh. I do know where to find some fairly good cooking pots, however."

"Oh, go to the devil," Mariah told her bridegroom of less than an hour and flounced back into the drawing room, where she surrounded herself with Becket women for the next several hours.

Spencer entered his dressing room to see Clovis and Anguish waiting for him, standing at attention... although Anguish rather listed to port, more than slightly the worse for drink.

"We're here to drink to you and your bride before turning in for the night, Lieutenant" Clovis said, turning smartly to retrieve a silver tray from one of the tables, a tray bearing a decanter and three crude glasses meant more for ale than French brandy. Apparently Clovis's larceny didn't extend to fine crystal.