Crow Hollow (30 page)

“Nay, that is not my heart’s desire. Not any longer.”

She swallowed hard and nodded.

“New York isn’t the Bay Colony,” he continued, “but McMurdle says there’s energy in Manhattan, and a growing colony of English, many of them original settlers of Plymouth, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. You might be comfortable there.”

And it would be relatively close to Rhode Island, too, if her sister settled there. And she had two brothers living along the Connecticut coast, as well, plus another sister living across the sound on Long Island.

Prudence’s heart pounded. Her stomach turned over.

Anne rose to her feet. “This is the part of the conversation where I can slip away. Besides, I should have my own conversation with Henry. I must prepare him for this happy news.”

There was a commotion when Anne reached the stairs, as apparently children had crept down to listen. Mild scolding chased them back upstairs.

When Anne and her children were gone, James turned back to Prudence. “I told McMurdle I would send him to England in my stead, but only if you would come with me to New York.”

Her heart was pounding and her mouth dry. “Please, be clear. Under what terms, as your mistress? You know I couldn’t do that.”

James took her hand. “As my wife. If you would have me.”

“I—I would do that. Yes.”

He apparently took her stuttering as hesitation, because he pressed on. “And as my partner. My lover. You are a beautiful and clever woman, strong-willed and stubborn, but tender enough to be a good wife and mother at the same time. I will be your husband and the father of your child if you let me—
our
child. That is, our
children.
Please be my wife, Prudie, I love you.”

She threw her arms around his neck and then they were kissing, locked for a long moment in each other’s embrace. When she opened her eyes, there was Anne, standing on the stairs, peering around the corner, a broad grin on her face.

“Well then,” Prudence said, pulling away and rising to her feet. She took James’s hand and urged him to stand. “We had better hurry down to the docks if we are to wave good-bye to the
Vigilant
before she sails.”

They went for their cloaks. As they passed the stairs, James smiled at Anne, now with several gawking children pressed around her as well. No sign yet of the reverend. Of course Prudence would prefer that he be happy to hear the news, but she found herself not particularly concerned if he wasn’t.

“Goody Stone,” James said. “On second thought, I
will
stay for supper. If the offer stands, that is, and if it will hold until we return from the harbor.”

“Aye, Master Bailey. We would be happy to have you.” Anne reached out and gave Prudence a little pinch above her hip as she passed.

Prudence slapped away Anne’s hand and gave her a raised eyebrow, then playfully stuck out her tongue at the sniggering children when James wasn’t looking.

Then she followed James outside and into the cold winter air.

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

Photo © 2011 David Garten

Michael Wallace was born in California and raised in a small religious community in Utah, eventually heading east to live in Rhode Island and Vermont. In addition to working as a literary agent and innkeeper, he previously worked as a software engineer for a Department of Defense contractor, programming simulators for nuclear submarines. He is the author of more than twenty novels, including the
Wall Street Journal
bestselling series The Righteous, set in a polygamist enclave in the desert.