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Authors: Julianne Maclean

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Still backing away, she was like a colorful butterfly he was desperate to catch.

“What will make you sure?” he asked, following.

She smiled wickedly and tilted her head at him. “I don’t know.”

“Shall we return to the beach then,” he asked, “while you think about it?”

She stopped decisively. “Yes. Your brother James is there waiting to see you, and your sister-in-law, Sophia. I met her in London recently.”

“Yes, my brother mentioned it,” he replied.

“She’s lovely, Martin. You have a wonderful family. You’re a lucky man.

Not as lucky as he would be if she accepted him and took a place in that family.

“We should return now,” she said, “because the fireworks will be starting soon.”

Just then, the heavens lit up with red and blue sparks, illuminating her face. A noisy
crack
cut through the night, and the crowd on the beach cheered and applauded.

But neither Evelyn nor Martin took their eyes off each other to look up at the weeping willow of fire in the sky over their heads, the sparks raining down like droplets onto the dark water. He simply waited while she returned and took his arm, then he escorted her back to the beach.

Chapter 28

T
he next morning, Martin woke early, but did not rise from his bed at the Royal Marine Hotel. He simply lay there with one arm bent under his head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

He’d hardly slept a wink through the night—again—nor could he sleep now if he tried, for he was out of his mind with anticipation for the day. It had taken every ounce of will he possessed not to find out what room Evelyn was staying in last night and go knock on her door. He did not, however, because if he was going to fight for her, he would do it properly. He would court her like a gentleman and treat her with the respect she
deserved. He would call on her today in fact, and take her walking to the Umbrella Tree.

Just then, he heard the sound of a note sliding under his door and skimming across the floor. He sat up, saw a white card at the foot of the bed, and quickly tossed the covers aside. Was it from Evelyn?

He strode barefoot and picked it up, then heard footsteps in the hall and hurried to the door. He peered out, but there was just a bellman disappearing around the corner.

Disappointed it was not her coming to pay him a call before a respectable hour, he shut the door and read the card.

Lord Martin,

I respectfully request your presence on the slip in front of the hotel at eleven o’clock this morning. Dress for the water and please do not be late.

Sir Lyndon Wadsworth

Martin glanced at the clock. It was twenty minutes past ten. He wondered what this was about.

Setting the note on the table, he washed and dressed, then strode out of his room at eleven. He passed through the crowded lobby and exited onto the street, dashing across to avoid being hit
by a swift carriage. Sir Lyndon stood waiting for him at the top of the slip.

“Good morning,” Martin said. “What’s going on? It sounded important.”

“I suppose it is,” the baronet replied. “Someone has requested your expertise. Are you available for a test sail?”

“A test sail? Someone is purchasing a yacht? It’s not the
Endeavor II,
is it?”

“No, it’s a yacht with a new design. She arrived in Cowes just this morning, after being purchased out of Ireland.”

Martin’s keen interest in innovative boat designs was aroused, and he looked out over the water. “Where is she?”

Sir Lyndon gestured to the small launch waiting at the end of the slip. “The potential owner will take you to her.”

Martin felt his blood rush to his head, for sitting in the boat, casually waving at him, was Evelyn.

“It’s Mrs. Wheaton,” he said, not moving from his spot, despite the fact that Sir Lyndon was trying to lead him down the slip.

“Yes, it is. She’s very in de pen dent, you know. Purchased that vessel without saying a word to anyone about it. She informed me just this morning, and I assure you, I was just as surprised as you are now—judging by the look on your face.”

Martin made every effort to regain his composure. “And what does she need me for?”

“She needs advice. She wants to be sure the yacht is well built before she signs on the dotted line, so to speak, and I thought since you have some experience with boat designs…”

Martin felt a slow smile spread across his face. “She wants to be sure, does she?” He started off down the slip. “Will you be coming, too?”

“No, I have far too much to do this morning. Besides, I know nothing about these things.”

And thank God for that,
he thought with a grin.

“Off you go,” Sir Lyndon said, gesturing with a hand. “She’s been sitting in that launch for over twenty minutes, and she’s very eager.”

Feeling rather eager himself, Martin started off down the slip.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully. “Isn’t this exciting? But before you step in, would you untie that first?”

He glanced at the rope she was pointing at, untied it, and a few seconds later, was stepping into the launch. It bobbed up and down beneath his weight, then Evelyn, God love her, began to row them out.

“You’re buying a yacht?” he asked, with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

“I haven’t quite decided yet,” she proudly replied. “She’s a beauty, though. Very hard to resist. Wait till you see her.”

Concentrating on the gentle rocking of the boat on the waves, he struggled to unwind a lit
tle and leaned back on the transom. “Lead the way.”

They rowed through the maze of sailboats moored in the Solent, and soon approached a yacht called
Phoenix
. She sported a shiny blue hull and a deck of polished maple. Martin sat forward, looking her over from top to bottom. “This is the one?”

Evelyn brought the launch up alongside. “Yes, what do you think?”

He squinted up at the tall mast against the bright blue sky, examined her smooth, graceful contours. He could tell she was not built for speed like the
Endeavor
or the
Orpheus
, but she looked impressively sturdy, built for a long haul in any kind of weather. “A forty-six-footer?” he estimated.

“Exactly.”

As they rowed from stern to bow, he ran his hand along her side, and his seafaring senses began to hum. “She’s definitely attractive.”

Evelyn grinned. “I knew you would think so. Care to step aboard?”

He chuckled at the question. “Do you even need to ask?”

They shared a knowing smile, and Evelyn secured the launch next to the
Phoenix
. Martin assisted her aboard, then joined her a second later, looking around the large oval cockpit at the shiny brass fittings and brass wheel. His gaze traveled
from the end of the boom across and up the mast, then he leaped up onto the foredeck. He walked to the bow and looked over the side, then turned to face Evelyn again. She was standing next to the wheel, watching him with interest.

“Can we take her out?” he asked.

“I was hoping you’d want to.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if to say,
Was there ever any doubt?

They both set to work in the sunshine, unfolding sails and freeing lines, and a short time later, they were hoisting the mainsail. Martin untied the mooring line, and they set off through the breezes with Evelyn at the wheel.

“How does she feel?” he asked, trimming the sails for a starboard tack.

“Wonderful. You have to come and try her out. She’s very steady.”

As soon as he could, he moved aft and hopped down into the cockpit. “May I?”

“Of course.” She stepped aside and allowed him to take the wheel.

He wrapped his hands around the brass spokes and felt the tremendous power of the boat’s wide hull and enormous sails. “She certainly is steady—solid as a rock, in fact.”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “So you think she’s a good boat?”

“She’s perfect, Evelyn.”

He smiled down at her, and she wrapped a
gloved hand around his on the wheel, as if to say
thank you,
before she strolled to the weather rail and looked over the side.

Martin watched her for a moment, then wet his lips and asked very carefully, “Have you given any thought to what we discussed last night?”

She turned to face him. “Which part? We discussed a lot of things.” The minx was not going to make this easy on him, was she? With a teasing glint in her eyes, she sat down and faced the wind. “Let’s just concentrate on the boat for a time, shall we?”

“What ever you desire,” he said, and they continued on their starboard tack.

A few minutes later, she asked him a question. “Did you know,” she said, “that after the accident, when I returned to London, I thought I might not ever wish to sail again?”

He frowned slightly as he adjusted the wheel under a wind shift. “Were you afraid?”

“Yes,” she replied, “but I’ve come to realize that fear is part of life. To feel apprehensive about certain things is normal, but in doing them, in conquering our fears—
that
is where the true rewards are. That is when we accomplish great things.”

He gazed down at her lovely profile and wondered how it was possible that a woman could make him feel so content and inspired, yet so enormously randy at the same time.

“I agree,” he said, struggling to focus on the
subject at hand. “Life has to be faced head-on with courage and fortitude.” He had learned that very recently.

Suddenly he wished she would come closer and stand beside him, but before he had a chance to speak her name, she stood up and strode over. She wrapped her hand around his upon the wheel again.

“I am apprehensive right now,” she said, her voice quiet and sultry.

An electrifying current coursed through him, and he searched her eyes with every instinct he possessed, wanting to know what she was thinking and feeling.
“Why?”

“Because I invited you to come sailing with me, and I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m doing.”

“What do you mean, Evelyn?”

He wished she would not leave him in doubt. He needed to know.

But before she could answer, he let go of the wheel and dropped to his knees in front of her.

“Forget that,” he said. “You don’t need to tell me. All that matters is what I said to you last night—that I love you.” He grabbed hold of her hips. “
I love you,
Evelyn, and I do not want to go one more day without you. What ever it is I have to do to win you, I will do it. I will fight for you tirelessly until the day I die if I must, until you say yes and let me be your husband and the fa
ther of your children. And if you tell me not to fight, I believe I will disintegrate into dust right here on your shiny new deck.”

Smiling, she stared down at him.

He realized suddenly that she must have let go of the wheel, too, because the sails were flapping uncontrollably over their heads. The boat was coasting to a halt.

She stared down at him with those beautiful green eyes behind those charming spectacles, and he thought that if she didn’t soon say something, he would get up and throw himself over the side.

Finally, at long last, she spoke. “Please do not disintegrate, Martin, because I would die if I lost you again.”

He gazed up at her with love in his eyes.

“And I
will
marry you,” she said. “No more fighting shall be necessary. I am yours.”

He shut his eyes tight and tried to calm his breathing, but he could not. All he could do was bow his head and sit back on his heels, his hands gripping her skirts while he thanked God in heaven for bringing her back into his life after so many years had passed since they’d known each other before.

The wheel was turning of its own volition now. The boat had pointed into the wind, and was blowing backward on the waves, but neither of them seemed to care. Evelyn dropped to her knees,
too, and took his face in her hands. “I have loved you all my life, since that day you pulled me out of that frozen lake. And when you made love to me for the first time here in Cowes, I was so afraid to hope that it could last forever, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was all I ever wanted and all I want now. And then when I believed I’d lost you—that’s when I knew I couldn’t go on being afraid. I had to be brave and try again, so while you were away, all I did was plan how I was going to win your devotion.”

“You didn’t have to do a thing to win it,” he said, “because you already had it. And you never lost me, Evelyn. Not really. I always carried you in my heart, and I hoped you were carrying me in yours, too. Thank you for waiting.”

He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers, while the sails continued to flap wildly over their heads. But none of it mattered. He was aware only of the need to love her right now and every day for the rest his life. The feeling was so powerful and profound, he felt the force of it inside his chest.

Savoring the delicious sensation of her lips upon his, he laid more kisses across her cheek and down her neck.

“I’m so happy, I feel like I’m floating,” she whispered breathlessly, tipping her head back.

“We
are
floating, darling, and God knows where the current is taking us.”

Laughing, she looked him in the eye. “It doesn’t matter where, just as long as we’re together.”

“So what’s next then?” he asked, rising to his feet and pulling her up beside him. “When shall we marry, and what shall we do for a honeymoon? A trip around the world?”

She pondered that. “What if we hit rough weather?”

“We’ll sail through it.”

“What if we lose the wind?” she asked.

“We’ll have tea.”

She smiled again. “I will follow you anywhere, Captain.”

“But this is to be
your
boat,” he reminded her with a laugh. “So I will be the one who is following
you
.”

She laughed, too. “It will be our boat, together. But what careless captains we are. I believe we are stuck head to wind.”

They both looked up at the sails still flapping overhead. “Not to worry,” he said. “I’ll get us moving in no time.”

“You always do.”

“Take hold of the wheel.” He turned and released the mainsail, then crossed to the forward deck and pulled the jib sheet taut. “Now turn it hard over to port.”

While she did as he commanded, he moved aft and pushed hard on the boom, and soon they were moving again.

Martin trimmed the sails, then stood with the wind at his back, watching Evelyn steer the boat. There was a look of pure elation and anticipation in her eyes.

“Is this right?” she asked. “Do I need to turn her farther over?”

“You’re fine,” he replied.

And even though she didn’t always know what she was doing, she was still the fearless captain of his heart, for she had taught him about life and what it is to sail through it. Everything was going to be fine, he realized, for there would be joy again.

“Where to now?” she asked, looking up at the sails and adjusting the wheel. “I await your command.”

He sat down on the foredeck and clasped his hands together around his knees, relaxing comfortably in the wind while he watched his future bride, steady at the wheel.

“Take us out,” he calmly said, and her smile was more dazzling than the sun.

BOOK: Surrender To A Scoundrel
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