Cross the Ocean (7 page)

Blake asked.

Tony tilted his head. “She’s grown on me. And Elizabeth will miss her terribly when she leaves.

Gertrude’s not bad, you know. Actually, very handsome and witty. Full of fun and new ideas. I find it refreshing.”

Blake turned his head. “You must be joking.”

“No, I’m not,” Anthony replied and studied his hands.

“You must be in dire need of entertainment to consider Gertrude Finch refreshing,” Blake said.

“I didn’t kiss her,” Tony said smugly.

“Does everyone need remind me of my one lapse in judgment? You and William both? I spend my entire life doing as I was raised to do. That singular occasion will haunt me forever. I’ve just met the woman.

Made a ghastly error that will not be repeated. Can’t the matter be dropped?” Blake asked.

“She’ll not bother you, Blake. I don’t think Gertrude will seek out your company. It will help Elizabeth and leave you with more time to see Helena,” Anthony said.

Blake’s hand flitted. “I sent a note and a diamond bracelet. I have no desire to see Helena again.”

“You what?” Anthony demanded.

“Helena introduced herself to Ann and Melinda last year in town. I no longer desire her company,”

Blake said.

Anthony sat back in awe. “Well, well. Walked right up to them.” He cocked his head. “Can hardly fault Helena. She was with you more than Ann. Figured she had you for life.”

“She was wrong,” Blake answered. “I don’t know why I’m worrying. Lady Katherine will never approve of Miss Finch to assist in Melinda’s come-out. You know how she feels about Americans.”

* * * *

After exchanging pleasantries, Lady Katherine went in for the kill. “Why would I allow a woman who kisses a married man on the lawn to assist my granddaughter?”

Elizabeth cringed. Gert did not.

“Allow him to kiss me? I had nothing to do with it other than to stand there. Trust me, Lady Katherine, I do not relish the idea of spending one second more with Blake Sanders then I have to. I consider this only as a way to help Elizabeth and Melinda,” Gert replied.

“Spending time with my daughter’s husband has never been of great significance to me either,” Lady Katherine said. “And this foray will have to be delicately handled. I will not allow Melinda to suffer for her mother’s mistakes.”

Gert raised her brows. “You disagree with your daughter, then?”

“Gertrude,” Elizabeth said. She shook her head.

Lady Katherine stared at Gert. “It’s alright, Elizabeth. The chit has the courage to ask. I suppose I’ll supply the answer. Ann and Sanders’ marriage was arranged from birth. Two old families joining. He was a decent sort as a young man. I thought for many years I had done the right thing. Just as my parents had done for me. The difference was I respected my husband and eventually loved him. And he me, I believe. Sanders never loved or respected Ann.”

“But Lady Katherine,” Elizabeth asked. “You and I both know love is an unusual ingredient for marriage in the ton.”

“Yes, yes,” Lady Katherine said impatiently. “But as I got on in years and watched my daughter fade from life for a lack of attention, it galled me surely. Ann dismissed everything she was taught, all that her father and I imparted to her and yet this is the first time I’ve seen my daughter happy in fifteen years. I can’t deny I’m glad for her and her merchant.”

“If she’s happy then I suppose you’ve achieved your life work, Lady Katherine,” Gert said. “I’ve no children but I can’t imagine watching them suffer. Melinda was confused by it all.”

“Melinda? What did she have to say on the subject?” Lady Katherine asked.

“We told Melinda everything that was said was in confidence. I’m not sure we should repeat it,” Gert said.

“This is Melinda’s grand mama, Gertrude. Surely she knows most of it anyway,” Elizabeth said and proceeded to tell Lady Katherine of their meeting with Melinda. The girl’s tears, confessions, fears and of Gert’s advice.

“Told my granddaughter not to worry about the gossips. You’re right, she’s not to blame in this affair.”

Lady Katherine studied Gert. “I would be indebted if you would assist us in London, Miss Finch.

Melinda will need every ally we can muster. I don’t think you’d stand by idly and watch her spurned. Or allow gossip to be spread.”

“It’s kind of you to trust me but be forewarned. I speak my mind, especially with Melinda’s father,” Gert said. Had she just accepted this role? Gert could hardly believe her words. She had come at Elizabeth and Anthony’s insistence to meet the grandmother, fully intending to refuse.

Lady Katherine rose. “Shows more good sense than you know, Miss Finch. Fool Sanders is to never realize the gem he had in Ann.”

“In America we would call him a horse’s ass,” Gert said.

Lady Katherine laughed aloud. “Apt description, I’d say.” She bellowed to the door. “I know you’re listening, Boscoe. Fetch Sanders and Burroughs. Be quick about it.”

* * * *

Blake was feeling confident when he went into the morning room. The American had probably prattled on about women’s rights. With any luck his mother-in-law had fainted. He passed Miss Finch and Elizabeth in the hall. He nodded smugly.

“Miss Finch will accompany us to London. Burroughs has agreed to handle the wardrobe. She’ll be staying with you and Anthony and Elizabeth in London,” Lady Katherine said as he entered the room.

Blake skidded to a stop. “Certainly you can see the inherent flaws in this plan, Katherine.” She shot him a look. “Lady Katherine.”

“What flaws, Sanders?” the dowager asked.

Blake paced the room. “This will be difficult enough for Melinda. Any indiscretion by Miss Finch, Melinda will suffer for.”

Lady Katherine stared at him and spoke regardless of her audience. “Could hardly be worse than any of your many indiscretions.”

Blake swallowed. And admitted defeat. Two months under the same roof with the woman. Could he take it? For Melinda, he supposed he could. “Very well.”

Chapter Five

The next week flew by for Gert. She sent a letter to Uncle Fred and stood on a dressmaker’s stool being pinned, prodded and poked for days on end by Elizabeth’s modiste. And then, of course, there was the huge array of fabrics and trimmings to choose. Styles to decide. Matching shoes, purses and cloaks to select. Gert tried desperately to convince the women she needed more fabric than they provided to cover her chest. But to no avail. Gert would die of embarrassment the first time she had to go out in public in these clothes. And the time was quickly approaching. They left for London the following morning.

* * * *

Gert had never seen such a procession in all her days. Carriage after carriage, hauling trunks and hatboxes with Benson, Briggs and Mrs. Wickham squeezed among them. What a bunch of hooey, Gert thought. But she could not deny the excitement. Melinda supplied an endless list of eligible men with Elizabeth nodding, sometimes shrugging and occasionally shaking her head emphatically. Melinda chattered the entire trip.

“You’re too young to marry this year,” Gert finally said to Melinda

“No, I’m not,” the girl replied.

“You may be allowed to marry but knowing one’s mind at sixteen is another thing all together. You changed hats three times before we left,” Gert said.

Melinda sat back against the black leather of the carriage seat and frowned.

“What Gertrude is saying is that there is plenty of time. I didn’t marry Anthony till I was two and twenty.” Elizabeth cringed. “Thank God I waited.”

“Why?” Melinda asked.

“I’d be married to a pimply faced redhead with knock knees otherwise,” Elizabeth replied.

Melinda laughed. “You both think I should wait before accepting an offer. But Father and Grand mama will be angry if I do.”

“Let them be,” Gert countered. “Aren’t there things you want to do before you have children and a husband to care for?”

Melinda’s eyes widened. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“Then take the time to think about it. Do you want to travel or study?” Gert stared out the window dreamily. “Sail with a pirate or dig for gold. Study at a University? Climb a mountain or dance in the sand on a beach?” She turned from her musings to two shocked expressions. “What?”

“Miss Finch, those things aren’t for the daughter of a Duke,” Melinda whispered.

“Would be quite out of the norm,” Elizabeth added.

Gert sat quietly the rest of the trip. Obviously her opinions on some matters were too outlandish for her hostesses. Wouldn’t stop her dreams though as a smile came to her lips. Panning for gold in a cold stream somewhere in California, camping above the clouds at the top of the Rockies or sailing on the great seas. A handsome, dark pirate ravishing her after felling enemies with his sword.

Gert’s eyes closed as the pirate came into view. Snug black pants fit into high boots with a white shirt billowing in the breeze above a red satin sash. His face would be rugged and wind burnt when he bent his head to capture her mouth. Her eyes would be closed and when her lashes slowly fluttered open he would declare his undying love. She would stare into his blue eyes and ... heaven’s sakes, her pirate was Blake Sanders! They stopped in front of a huge mansion and Gert shook her head to clear her thoughts as she stepped down from the carriage. Her fairy tale had occupied her thoughts more vividly and thoroughly than ever before.

“Love to, my dear,” Sanders said as he assisted Melinda.

“What?” Gert said.

The Duke turned to stare at her as if she had grown two heads. And she stared back. Her fanciful, lusty pirate had emerged as a stuffy, pompous Englishman. Her daydreams were ruined. Sanders was handsome enough to be her pirate and lusty enough to kiss her at will, but he was such … an ass.

“Seen your fill, Miss Finch?” Sanders asked. “What term did you use before? Ah, yes, woolgathering, I believe.”

Gert swallowed. “Daydreaming.” His smug smile riled her. “About … about the day men and women are equal,” she added.

He leaned close to her, blew a breath and whispered, “I think not.”

Gert covered her head with her hand. “Did you just blow in my ear?” A chill went down her spine.

Sanders stood, hands on his hips with his feet spread wide. “I would be happy to repeat the gesture if you were still daydreaming about suffrage.”

Gert pursed her lips as her face reddened. The way he stood evoked a ship under his feet as he laughed at the elements or pursuers. Her favorite fantasy was ruined and she was angry.

“Do you want to be punched in the nose again?” Gert asked.

He tilted his head. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Rarely do women find my kisses cause for violence.”

Gert harrumphed and swept past him. Yet, his words stopped her.

“Should we repeat our moment by the lake and see if the effect is different this time?” he asked.

Gert was shaken when he referred to the kiss as ‘our moment.’ The words held intimacy, history, an impending future and words failed her. She turned to him with no witty barb emerging from her confusion.

No repartee delivered with icy hauteur. The pirate, in her head, was blowing in her ear and she had to escape. Gert stuck out her tongue and hurriedly followed the others into the house. Anthony and Elizabeth were in the foyer with Mrs. Wickham who was directing where trunks were to be taken and which fires to be lit. Gert undid the clasp of her new navy cape and handed it to a servant seemingly only there to receive it. She straightened the new dress and tugged at the neckline. Sir Anthony found something vastly amusing when he looked at her.

“Something funny, Anthony?” Gert asked.

“No,” Anthony said and shook his head.

* * * *

Blake ran up the steps to the door, a cocky grin on his face. Although the thought of spending time with Gertrude Finch did not settle well with Blake, he had resigned himself to it during the long ride to London. More arguments would undoubtedly upset Melinda and this was, after all, her debut.

Come-outs were the domain of the females in his sphere but he knew for a fact she was both nervous and excited. He would be a charming, attentive host and do nothing to make his daughter worry.

And he could clearly unsettle the American. It was an appealing thought and somehow soothed his bruised pride and ego. Let someone other than the Duke of Wexford act wholly out of character. The righteous Miss Finch had blushed when he blew in her ear. Where were her thoughts? He smiled triumphantly when he realized he may not be the only one to wake in a cold sweat reliving their kiss.

Tony may be right. This may prove to be a vastly entertaining interlude. She had her back to him and he rubbed his hands together as he envisioned her shock when he told her his plans for that tongue she stuck out.

“Miss Finch, never stick your….” Blake stopped mid-stride as she turned. A vast sea of white flesh held his eyes. Big, soft, cream-colored breasts jutted over the neckline of her dress. His lip twitched. He wanted to bury his face between them and not come up for days. He wanted to kiss and lick the mountains till he found their peaks. Blake growled and stared.

“Never stick what?” Miss Finch asked. She followed the direction of his eyes.

“Ah, pardon?” Blake asked and looked up briefly.

“You asked me a question about sticking something,” Miss Finch replied. Anthony laughed beside her.

Blake’s head snapped to her face and he swallowed as he realized what he wanted to stick and where.

The thought overwhelmed any other sense in his head. Think, man, think, he said to himself. What was she talking about and what was the correct reply? We’re in London. Melinda’s come-out. Blake took a weak breath. Dear God. Miss Finch couldn’t be seen at balls like this. Not a soul would look his daughter’s way.

“Cover yourself, woman. Bloody hell,” Blake said.

“‘Tis the top of fashion, Blake,” Elizabeth said.

Blake’s hands flustered and flew, gesturing in Miss Finch’s direction. “Her bosoms are hanging out, Elizabeth.There isn’t a man in town who won’t be staring.”

Anthony quivered with laughter until his wife’s looks stilled him. “Anthony would not deny he noticed her décolletage,” Elizabeth said. “But I doubt the men of London would drool the way you are.”