Читать книгу Lady Thorn - Catherine Archer - Страница 8

England, 1855

Jedidiah McBride traveled slowly over the road from Westacre. He held the reins firmly, feeling their smooth leather against his palm, as he tried not to acknowledge the unaccustomed feelings of despondency that were prodding at the back of his mind, ready to overtake him.

Not since he was a boy had Jed allowed anything to affect him this much. Not since his mother’s death, some few months after Nina’s desertion. It had been an untimely death that he knew had been hastened by Nina and her high-and-mighty family’s cruel treatment of him.

An owl hooted in the trees to his right, and Jed shifted around in his saddle, his sea-green eyes searching the inky darkness for a glimpse of the night bird that sounded so alone. As alone as he would feel if he allowed himself that luxury, which he would not.

Nothing stirred in the cluster of young oaks that grew behind the hedge of hawthorn. Yet he had no doubt that the creature was there, among the dense growth of late spring, watching him. If he was capable of reason, would he think Jed was a fool to have come all this way from America with only the content of one vague and confused letter to go on? Then, even as Jed watched, he saw the dark spread of the owl’s wings as it swooped from the highest treetop, across the greening open field, in search of small prey.

If only his own life were so simple. He would like to be able to swoop down on Nina, take what was his and go. But even though twelve years had passed since the last time he’d seen her, she could still manipulate him by saying only what she wanted him to know and nothing more.

His gaze flicked across the sky, where the half-moon was partially obscured by gauzy iron clouds. Find her he would, no matter what the cost. He must succeed in what he had come to England to do. There was no reasonable alternative.

Over the course of the past twelve years, he had faced worse odds and won. Jed had started his nautical career as a cabin boy at the age of seventeen. He was now co-owner of a thriving shipbuilding firm, master of his own ship, and master of his own life.

Or so he had thought until he received the letter from Nina some two months ago. It was then that he had learned she’d left Bar Harbor with his unborn child inside her. Pain sliced through him, and his knees gripped the horse more tightly, causing it to prance beneath him. Deliberately, calling on the strength and determination that had sustained him all these years, he forced himself to relax those muscles and the ones in his shoulders and prodded the animal on.

He would find Nina, and his son. Nothing, not even her cruel theft of the boy’s childhood, would prevent him being a better father than his had been to him.

The night closed in around him as his mind centered on that one most important need, using it to block out any thought of possible failure. Again he went over the minimal clues he had to help him locate her. He knew that Nina’s name was now Fairfield and that she had borne him a son. Little else had been said, other than that she was finally telling him about the child out of a need to salve her own conscience. It didn’t even enter his mind that the claim might be false. Some inner sense, the same one that forewarned him of a squall before it came, told him she was telling the truth.

Jed’s lips tightened. How very like Nina to say she was telling him in order to salve her conscience. She had always acted to preserve her own pretty hide. His chest tightened as he remembered the ache her rejection had brought. It hurt all the more because of the fact that he had actually believed she loved him. Why else would a girl from one of the foremost families in Maine show an interest in him? He’d lived in a hovel not far from the docks. After his father left them, he and his mother had subsisted on the meager income she earned from doing laundry and mending, and whatever he might bring in from laboring on the local fishing boats.

Only fate could have brought Jed into contact with the fragile and darkly lovely Nina. One day when the housekeeper had fallen ill, Nina had gone to the market with her maid. The handle of her basket had broken, and Jed had stopped to help her retrieve her purchases. Their hands had inadvertently brushed. Their eyes met. After that, there had been no holding back the force of their youthful desire. He’d actually believed she loved him, until there came a time when he went to their meeting place night after night, with no sign of Nina. In desperation, he had finally gone to her home. The harried housekeeper had given him an impatient look and informed him that Miss Nina had been married the previous day and was at that moment making ready to board a ship that would take her to the estates of her husband, Squire Fairfield, in England. So shocked had he been that Jed could only back down the steps in disbelief when she closed the door in his face. Clearly Nina had cared nothing for him, for never had she even hinted at any of this. In a short time, his devastation had turned to rage, and he’d vowed never again to allow himself to look to any woman for anything other than physical release, and never to one of Nina’s social class. They cared for nothing beyond their own comfort and position.

His devastation had come to the point of near madness when his mother died, some few weeks later. That had been when he signed on as cabin boy for a voyage that was to take him from Bar Harbor and the pain of his life.

During the ensuing years, he’d learned much about the world, including the fact that the only person he needed was himself. It was a lesson he would not soon forget.

Yet Jed knew that in this instance there was one great obstacle in his path, despite his self-reliance and determination to find his son. He had no access to the very society he scorned. His confidence in himself and his abilities would not gain him entry to the salons and morning rooms of London society. And that was where he must certainly begin his quest. But how?

He pushed aside this core of doubt, prodding his horse to a faster pace. He had no intention of returning to his ship at Westacre, where its cargo of cotton was being unloaded, without his son. He’d not told his first mate, David Orsby, the details of his quest, but he had informed him that he might be gone for some time. David had shrugged, saying he would do whatever Jed asked of him, and that the crew would wait, because they were well paid.

Jed turned his attention to the road ahead. He had just rounded a sharp bend when he took note of the vague shape of a coach up ahead. He shifted his mount to the far side of the lane, which was wide enough for both his horse and the vehicle. As the clouds passed away from the moon, casting more light down upon the scene, he paused.

The halted carriage swayed wildly ahead of him, and the four matched black horses danced in the harness. Atop the conveyance, two men struggled violently. Surely one of them must be the driver, Jed thought as he dug his heels into the bay’s flanks and it started forward. At that moment, from inside the carriage, he heard the sound of a woman’s scream.

Jed rose in the saddle and slapped the reins against the horse’s rump. His urgency was immediately transferred to his mount, for it reared up and ahead at the same time. They were near to traveling at a gallop when he drew the horse alongside the swaying coach and pulled himself up onto the platform.

For a moment, he hesitated, as he studied the grappling men. Then one of them cried out, “Please, help me, sir!” That was all Jed needed to help him decide which was defender and which attacker. The taller of the two turned, as if meaning to jump from the vehicle, just as the other finished calling out to Jed. But he had acted too slowly to protect himself, for Jed grabbed him by the back of his coat and spun him fully around. The man swung wildly, and Jed ducked. He countered the blow with one of his own and sent the thug reeling over the side of the coach.

The other man, whom Jed was now certain was the coachman, flinched as another scream sounded from inside the carriage. He looked to Jed with eyes rounded in panic. “We must help my lady.”

Jed pointed to the fallen man, who lay still upon the ground. “Watch him. I will see to her.”

Without waiting to see if his order was obeyed, Jed leapt over the side of the vehicle and reached for the elaborately emblazoned door. As the woman cried out again, he reached into the belt of his breeches and withdrew his pistol. Then he was inside.

A man’s voice addressed him immediately. “Blazes, Lloyd, let’s be off, shall we?”

Both tone and inflection proclaimed this man a member of the upper class. At that moment, Jed had little time to wonder why a gentleman would be accosting a woman in her coach. He took in the fact that this man was so busy wrestling with the pile of blue silk skirts and other female apparel he held that he had not even bothered to see who he was addressing. Jed could only assume there was a woman beneath all that tangle. He was assured that this was true when an arm appeared from the mass, and her assailant grunted as a blow landed on the side of his head.

With a grunt of irritation, the man renewed his efforts to restrain her, nudging her hooped skirts so far forward that he unwittingly exposed a tantalizing section of female anatomy. The decidedly shapely bottom, encased in soft white bloomers, briefly caught and held Jed’s undivided attention. The fine fabric stretched taut as the muscles in the unknown woman’s buttocks flexed in her efforts to free herself.

Her attacker’s gasp of rage, as the woman’s heel connected with his chin, brought Jed to his senses. What kind of rescuer was he, to be leering at the poor woman’s backside? What would his mother say, especially when it was she who had taught him to offer help to those in need?

At that moment, the man cried out again in exasperation. “I say, Lloyd, can you hear me? What is the hold up?”

Self-directed amusement colored Jed’s voice as he spoke. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Lloyd is…well… resting.”

The man swung around, and his expression was astonished when he saw Jed. “What have you done with Lloyd?” The look in his light gray gaze changed from anxiety to haughtiness as he took in the sea captain’s attire. His expression said quite plainly that Jed’s snug black pants, white open-necked shirt and black overcoat proclaimed him to be other than a gentleman. Which Jed understood would certainly mark him an inferior in this fool’s opinion. He was dressed in a tight-fitting cutaway coat, brown trousers and a multihued brocade vest.

The dapper fellow frowned again as his eyes came to rest on the pistol in Jed’s hand. “Now see here, my good man. Just be on your way, and I will forget that you interfered in something that was not your concern.” His scowl deepened. “That is, if you have not been so foolish as to kill my friend.”

Jed merely smiled. This man was in for quite a surprise if he thought he could intimidate Jed with his superior manner. “I do not know, nor do I care, if your friend lives. And forgive me—” he glanced down at the pistol “—if I point out that, although I’m sure you believe you are being quite magnanimous in regards to myself, you are really in no position to do so.”

The blond man looked down his narrow nose, even as he renewed his grip on the woman, who had ceased to struggle when Jed spoke. She jerked away in response, and he spoke to Jed with irritation as he tried to draw her closer to him. “How dare you! Obviously no one has taught you how to treat your betters. I am a member of the English peerage, sir!”

Jed simply shrugged, raising the pistol and bringing the attacker’s attention fully to himself. “I think now that you will release this lady.”

With obvious reluctance, the man loosened his hold on her. Immediately she rolled away, pressing her back against the opposite door of the coach even as she raised her head to look at them.

As her face became visible beneath the rim of her slightly askew beribboned blue bonnet, time seemed to halt. Jed found himself forgetting for one heart-stopping moment that he was holding a pistol on a member of the British peerage in a strange coach in the middle of the night. He could think of nothing besides the strange, brave beauty of the woman before him.

Because it wasn’t just that she was beautiful that gave him pause. Though there was no denying that she was, with her aquiline features and haughty expression. It was the pure defiance in her gray eyes, the look of outrage and regal condemnation she turned upon the man who had dared accost her. Not even a hint of fear was evidenced in those heavily lashed eyes.

She spoke with open contempt, drawing Jed’s gaze to her mouth. And in its lushness he glimpsed an unexpected hint of womanly softness that stirred him more than he would have imagined possible. He forced himself to concentrate on her words. “What can have possibly come over you, Reginald Cox? Did you really believe you would succeed in abducting me?”

Jed settled back to watch as Cox shrugged, nodding to him. “I would have done quite well, if it had not been for this brave lothario here, interfering in things.” His face took on a petulant expression as he went on. “Though really, Victoria, must you refer to what I was trying to do as abducting you?”

“And what then would you prefer I call it?” She barely glanced toward Jed as the other indicated him, rising with surprising grace, considering the circumstances. She perched, ladylike, on the seat and righted her bonnet with unruffled aplomb, and he began to wonder at the sheer depth of her bravado. Did the woman have no understanding of what had nearly happened to her?

It was when she brushed the dark curls away from her face, even as she continued to eye Reginald Cox with disdain, that Jed noted a barely perceptible trembling in her slender, white-gloved fingers. Sympathy stabbed at his chest. Obviously she was more shaken by what had happened than she would have them know. Obviously she was acting out of true bravery, rather than because of a foolish sense of invulnerability, as some did. He felt a growing admiration that surprised him, since he would not have expected to feel that way about anyone of her class.

Surprise at his own reaction kept Jed silent as Cox shrugged again and said, “I did mean to make an honest woman of you, Victoria. I had nothing less than marriage in mind, and would still continue toward that end, if you would only come to your senses.”

The beauty’s arched brows rose with haughty contempt. “I wonder that you would not take my repeated refusals as reply enough to convince you to leave me be.”

Reginald pursed pouty lips. “Dash it, “Victoria, that was what drove me to compel you. I am at my wits’ end to have you.”

Neither Cox nor the lady took note of the fact that Jed leaned toward the other man. “To have me,” she sputtered. “More like to have my wealth and property.”

Her remark served to cause the man to flush with embarrassment, but it did not stop him from trying to convince her she was wrong. He reached toward her. “Victoria, you must know how I feel….”

He was halted by Jed’s firm grip on his shoulder. The sea captain could now feel the undivided attention of both centered wholly on him. He focused on the man. “That will be enough Mr…. Cox.”

Clearly, Reginald Cox was not going to give up on this easily. He made a move to pull away from the hold on his shoulder, but Jed’s grip held firm. Cox’s frustration was apparent even when he raised his nose and tried for a superior expression as he lifted his gaze to Jed’s. “Unhand me, you madman. This is really none of your concern. Be on your way, and I will forget that you intruded where you were not wanted.”

Jed made no effort to hold back the mocking smile that curved his lips. “How very good of you, but again I must decline to accept your generous offer.” His expression and voice then hardened as his grip became what must be painfully tight. “Get out of the carriage.”

Cox paled, as if finally understanding that he was completely in Jed’s power. Slowly, and with clear reluctance, he followed the larger man without another word.

Victoria Thorn found herself blinking in surprise as she realized that the two men had exited the carriage. She sat back on the seat with a groan of self-derision. What in heaven’s name had come over her?

She could not have said. All she did know was that she had not had a coherent thought since first looking into the face of her rescuer. Surely, she thought, pressing her hands to her heated cheeks, her odd sense of disorientation was nothing more than a strange reaction to nearly being kidnapped, then just as suddenly finding herself safe once more.

Again she envisioned those heavily lashed sea-green eyes, that mobile mouth, which had been thinned with dangerous intent as the man spoke to Reginald Cox. He had radiated a kind of hard strength that had nothing to do with the gun in his hand. Here was a man who knew how to attain what he desired, who knew how to command respect because of what was inside him. If he had no weapon at all, Reginald would still have been forced to heed him. It was equally obvious that he was a man of honor or he would not have come to her aid.

She did not want to think that her awareness had anything to do with the fact that he was incredibly handsome, a valiant liberator who had come dressed all in black except for his flowing white shirt, as a reckless buccaneer might. That kind of breathless fantasy was for chambermaids and debutantes. Not for mature women, women for whom the well-being of hundreds of people was a daily concern.

But it could not be denied that he was handsome, with his strongly cut features, the angles and hollows having been clearly outlined by the light from the carriage lantern. That same light had played on the pale golden streaks in his dark blond hair. His hard jaw and lean cheeks had not kept her gaze from drifting down to the strong, tanned column of his throat, which was exposed by the open neck of his white shirt.

A shiver rippled through Victoria, though she was not the least bit cold. Her gaze strayed to the now closed carriage door through which the men had passed, even as her ears picked up the sounds of their voices.

It was not difficult to differentiate between her rescuer’s tone and the other’s. His was rich and authoritative, even without being raised. It was apparent that he was accustomed to giving commands—and having them obeyed. She also noted as he continued to speak that the man’s English was strangely accented. Surely, she thought, he must be American.

American. Her own grandfather’s brother had gone across the sea to make his fortune there. It was said that he had been a great adventurer who could not be contained by the small islands of Britain. The Thorns had never again heard from him, nor from any family he might have. Would his descendants have the same intractable courage and confidence that this man had displayed thus far?

An angry retort from outside roused her from these thoughts, and Victoria sat up straighter, running her hands over her blue silk skirts. Taking note of the fact that they were trembling, she then clenched them tightly in her lap. She must get hold of herself.

Victoria could only hope that neither Reginald nor her rescuer had taken heed of her upset. It was quite unlike her to become so distraught, and she disliked any sign of weakness in herself. As she was the last surviving member of the Thorn family, it was her duty to meet every challenge with fortitude and heroism.

She could not help casting up a silent prayer that Reginald had indeed given up the notion of abducting her. She could still hardly give credence to the fact that he had been so foolish. Did he actually believe he could whisk her, Lady Victoria Thorn, sole heir to the duke of Carlisle, off to Gretna Green or some such place and marry her against her will?

Victoria had been rejecting his proposals for weeks, and had known that he was growing impatient with her refusals. Never had she imagined that the fortune-hunting Reginald would have the audacity to kidnap her. Regally she raised her finely sculpted chin. The very impudence of him.

Yet in spite of her bravado she did know a flutter of fear at realizing that he might well have succeeded, had it not been for the stranger. The man with eyes the color of a frothy sea.

The fluttering came inside her again, but this time it had nothing to do with fear. There was much that was compelling about the man who had aided her. He was quite unlike any she had ever chanced to meet. Such a mixture of strength and chivalry was definitely unusual and gave Victoria pause for thought.

She was again pulled out of her reverie, by the sounds of angry voices from outside the clarence, and her heart thudded in reaction when they were followed by the retort of a pistol. There was then more shouting, and the sound of hooves thundering off into the distance. What could have happened, she wondered?

Deciding that she must see for herself what was taking place, Victoria reached for the door handle. But she sat back in surprise and sudden unease as the door opened.

Pray God, she murmured silently, it not be Reginald. A sense of relief coursed through her in the next instant as she saw that it was the very man who had rescued her.

He was rubbing the back of his neck gingerly. “I’m afraid they have gotten away. The other one had managed to overpower your driver while I was binding Cox. He hit me over the back of the head with a branch, and they escaped. I am going after them, but I am going to tell your driver to take you directly home.”

She held out her hand to halt him. “No, please, let them go. I do not believe Reginald will be of any threat to me now. He would not risk the scandal.”

“But…” The man’s expression was incredulous.

“Please,” She broke in. “I wish nothing so much as to put this whole episode behind me. Reginald is really quite a harmless fool, and he will never find the courage to attempt such a thing again.”

He frowned in consternation, but she pressed on. “I assure you that this is all for the best. I have no wish to make this incident public. Nor will Mr. Cox, or Mr. Jenkins.”

He hesitated as his gaze met hers. “Is there no way that I can convince you? They should be punished.”

She shook her head.

As he was obviously not happy with her decision, she breathed a sigh of relief when he shrugged. “As you will.” He nodded toward the seat across from her. “May I at least suggest, then, that I see you safely home?” He looked at her questioningly, one dark brow quirked rakishly over those compelling green eyes.

She took a deep breath to steady herself as she realized anew just how attractive he was. The feeling of being safe in his presence had not abated. And in spite of what she had said to him, there was a lingering trace of fear in her at what might have happened if he had not chanced upon them. She gave a barely perceptible nod. “I would be grateful.”

He nodded. “I’ll tie my horse to the back.”

“Victoria nodded in return, wondering why she was being so faint of heart as she watched the man leave the interior of the carriage. A moment later he was back, opening the window and instructing the driver to go on. He then settled himself on the seat across from her.

The carriage started off with a slight jolt, momentarily distracting her. It was well sprung, and the motion smoothed out quickly, and her attention was soon drawn back to the man who had come to her aid. Try as she might, Victoria could not help noticing the way the lanternlight set his dark blond hair agleam with golden highlights. Coupled with the deep tan she had previously noted on his face and throat, this evidence made her certain he spent long hours in the sun.

Who was this man? And what strange twist of fate had placed him on this lonely stretch of road so late at night? And just when she needed him? She asked none of the questions dancing through her mind, something telling her he would not welcome her queries.

He leaned forward, drawing her gaze back to his eyes, which were watching her with concern. “Are you all right Miss…?”

“Victoria Thorn, and of course I’m all right,” she answered hurriedly as she willed herself to stop the blush that was stealing up from her own throat. It did no good. She could only hope her bonnet would conceal it.

Surreptitiously she ran her gaze over the considerable length of him. As she did so, she realized that his long legs, encased in snug black breeches, were mere inches from her own. He shifted, and she could not help noticing the flexing of the hard muscles in his thighs.

Victoria forced her gaze away from the amazingly stirring sight. What was the matter with her? she asked herself in exasperation. Carrying out her duties as mistress of all her deceased father’s lands and finances had given her a maturity far beyond her twenty-three years. Why was she now acting like a schoolgirl?

Obviously concerned at her renewed silence, he asked again, “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She nodded slowly as she met that green gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as something powerful yet indefinable passed between them. She felt protected and cared for beneath that steady regard, as she had not since her parent’s deaths, three years gone by. Victoria felt a sudden and inexplicable wish for him to hold out his arms and take her into them, as her father would have done. But, she reminded herself as she dropped her gaze to her clasped hands, this man was not her father. Her own reactions to his maleness were reminder enough of that.

Silently she berated herself for her own mad thinking. She had known many handsome men. Victoria had in fact been courted by some of the most attractive bachelors in England on her coming out. Her own unmarried state was due more to a desire to put the matter off than to lack of. opportunity. But as she risked a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye, she realized that that did not change what was happening to her now. None of those men had been as devastating to her senses as this one.

In a manner quite unlike her usual direct one, she continued to look at her hands as she answered him. “I am fine, sir. I must thank you now for having come to my aid, though I should certainly have done so sooner.”

“There is no need to thank me. Anyone would have done the same.”

The modesty of his tone made her look at him. As she answered, her voice was filled with sincerity. “No, I do not believe that anyone would have. You must certainly be a man of good character and a brave heart, else you would not have done so.” He appeared decidedly uncomfortable with her gratitude, which drew her to say, “You must allow me to reward you in some way.”

He shrugged offhandedly. “I will accept your thanks as reward enough.”

She watched him with growing approval. What a rare man he seemed! Strong, chivalrous, modest, and apparently without greed. Again she tried, feeling compelled to do something for him in return. “Is there nothing I can do for you? You have no idea how much good you have done me. I fear I would have had the dubious distinction of being Mrs. Reginald Cox by morning if you had not happened along.”

He laughed ruefully, his teeth flashing white, his eyes sparkling in the lanternlight. “Maybe a reward is in order. The crown jewels just might equal a debt of that magnitude.”

Ah, a sense of humor as well, Victoria thought as she watched him. The husky sound of his laughter sent a tingle of awareness down her spine. “Truly,” she found herself asking, “is there no small thing I can do for you in return for your kindness? I do not even know your name.”

Jed sobered as he studied her. His expression was thoughtful, assessing. For into his mind had come the realization that this might just be his opportunity to try to learn something of Nina, or at least to get some idea of where to begin to find her. Yet he hesitated.

As he watched Victoria, saw her gray eyes earnest on his, he felt a strange reluctance to tell her anything about himself or his problems. Some part of him said to get on his horse and never look back. Another part, the one that was bent on locating Nina and his son, told him his resistance had solely to do with the fact that Victoria Thorn was just the type of woman he so wished to avoid.

The crest on the carriage door, the woman’s clothing, her regal bearing, all were evidence of a certain social standing. Yet in spite of all that, he had not been able to let her ride off into the night alone, especially knowing that those two men might be lurking about with that hope in mind. After the way Jed had watched his father mistreat his mother, he could not bear to see anyone abused by someone of greater strength.

His discomfort had nothing to do with the way her dark hair curled softly about her delicate cheeks, nor the expression of interest he saw in her undeniably lovely gray eyes—which he knew was only a trick of the light. Surely his wariness was not connected to the way his body tightened when he remembered the view he’d had of the lady’s sweetly rounded bottom.

And because his discomfort was not caused by any of those things, he would be a fool indeed to pass up this chance to gain some knowledge of Nina and his child. So thinking, Jed looked at her squarely, not allowing his gaze to stray to the distracting curves that were exposed by the tight-fitting bodice of her blue gown. “My name is Jedidiah McBride. I was on my way to London from the port of Westacre, where I left my ship.”

He couldn’t help seeing the way her interest quickened at the mention of his ship. Her words confirmed his thought. “You are a sea captain?”

“Yes, I… have some business in England.”

There was curiosity in her tone as she said, “You are an American, are you not?”

He nodded. Jed continued to face her, not liking to be anything but direct. Still, it was a moment before he could bring himself to say what he wanted to, as she was looking at him with those wide, questioning gray eyes of hers.

Jed forced himself to look away from the hypnotic attentiveness in her gaze. He had to know if she could tell him anything that might help him find Nina. That was all he wanted from her.

He spoke with cool remoteness. “There is a possibility that there is something you could do for me.” He could not quite keep the slight hopefulness from his voice as he went on. “Would you know of a family by the surname of Fairfield?”

She frowned as he glanced at her, and he saw that she seemed somewhat surprised by the question. Slowly she shook her head. “Fairfield? I do not know. Is there any more you can tell me?”

Jed frowned himself. “Squire Fairfield.”

Her expression grew even more pensive. “Squire Fairfield.” After a moment, she looked at him regretfully. “I am very sorry. Are these people some relation of yours?”

He was disappointed, but he tried not to let it show as he shook his dark blond head. “No, no relation of mine.” She was watching him very closely, and Jed had the feeling that she was seeing more than he would have liked.

She held up her hands in a gesture of helplessness, confirming his suspicions when she spoke. “I can see that this is important to you. Is there not some other clue you might give me? I feel quite useless in not even being able to help with this small matter.”

Their gazes met and held, as Jed found himself thinking that she was indeed very lovely with the gentle glow of the lanternlight on her face. The delicate curves of her cheeks and jaw beckoned a man’s lips, as did her sweetly shaped mouth. For one arresting moment, he could have sworn that he saw attraction in those fathomless gray depths. But he knew that could not be. Never would a woman of her world be interested in him, a simple man of the sea.

Yet she seemed genuinely concerned that she had not been able to assist him. She did in that regard appear different from the other women of her kind he had known. For some inexplicable reason, he found himself wondering if he should reveal to this stranger, this English lady, his reason for being here. If she knew more of the story, might then she be able to help him find Nina—and his son?

Yet even as he made the decision, it was almost against his will that Jed found himself reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. He watched her eyes widen as he withdrew the letter and handed it to her.

“What is this?” she asked.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “It is a letter from a woman I knew when I was quite young. I received it about ten weeks ago. If you would be good enough to read it, I think it will explain itself.”

Victoria could only look on the handsome man seated across from her with amazement. Never had she expected this. Realizing that she was staring, Victoria turned her attention to the letter.

Carefully she opened the wrinkled page, which bore the evidence of having been read many times. The message was simple.

Dear Jedidiah,

I hope you will be able to find it in your heart to forgive me for what I am about to tell you. For that is the one hope that has given me the courage to write to you at all.

You see, I am very ill. I am, in truth more painful to admit even to myself, dying. In order to go to my rest with conscience clear, I must then tell you something that I have kept hidden from everyone, including my husband, for twelve years. You, Jedidiah, are the father of my eleven-year-old son. I ask you not to try contacting him or myself. As I said, all I ask of you is your forgiveness. Please try to find it in your heart to give me that much, though I understand you do not owe it to me.

Nina

Victoria looked up at the man, not knowing what to say. “I take it you are the Jedidiah she mentions?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She hardly knew what to say. “How very dreadful for you! But I did not understand how I can be of assistance. I do not know anyone by that name. And if you do not mind my asking, how do you know that Fairfield is her surname? She did not sign it on either the inside or the outside of the letter.”

His jaw flexed as he answered her. “I have known the name of her husband for some time.”

Victoria had the impression that he would say no more on that subject, and she didn’t ask. It seemed there were many long-held resentments at work here. Obviously this Nina’s husband was the Squire Fairfield he sought.

She found herself asking. “Do you have any other information that might help?”

He grimaced. “I know that the letter was posted from London.” His wide shoulders drew her gaze as he shrugged. “Other than that, I know nothing. I have no leads, no contacts, not one thing. I only know that to find her I must gain entry into the circle she inhabits. When you asked if you could help me in some way…” He shrugged again.

She looked down at her hands, then glanced back to his face as she wondered why this woman had not told him of the child all those years ago. Had she feared that he would not marry her? Victoria could not even imagine that any woman who could have the man before her as her very own would not do so. Thus, the reluctance had to have been on his part.

Although Victoria felt that Jedidiah McBride was in fact a good and decent man, she also thought there might be a hint of ruthlessness in him. She sensed that he would do nothing against his own indomitable will. And, likewise, that nothing he desired could be denied him.

What would it feel like to be desired by this man? A shiver of awareness raced down her spine and she could only pray that he had not seen it.

She tried to focus on what Jedidiah McBride had said to her. Obviously he was determined to find this woman and his child. Doing so might prove very difficult for him. As he had said he knew no one who might assist him. Though she knew many people socially, Victoria could think of no person she would trust to assist a man like Jedidiah McBride with his problem. She, in her own way, was as isolated from London society as he. The responsibilities of her position made it impossible for her to waste time in the frivolous entertainments the London season had to offer. Truth to tell, Victoria cared more for being at her country manor house, Briarwood. It was where she had spent most of her time as a child, where she had lived with her beloved mother and father.

Previous to this night, she would have believed that nothing would threaten the peace of that existence. This attempt to kidnap her gave evidence to the false nature of her security. It seemed that, without a man to protect her, she was vulnerable indeed.

Her searching gaze ran over the man across from her, taking in the wide set of his shoulders, his strong hands, his confident demeanor. The sea captain would have no need to fear anyone. He wore his strength with an easy grace that made him all the more intimidating.

An idea was beginning to insinuate itself into her mind. It was an idea she could not dismiss, though she did make an attempt. Surreptitiously Victoria studied the man seated across from her. He seemed lost in thought, and the tightness of the hands clenched around his knees gave away the tension inside him, his desperation to find this woman. Was he desperate enough to agree to her plan?

There was only one way to find out.

“Mr. McBride,” she began, feeling his attention come back to her face. “I have a proposition for you to consider.”

She glanced at him and saw that he was looking at her with a puzzled frown. “Yes?” he replied somewhat warfly.

She centered her gaze on the hands she held clasped in her lap. “What has happened this evening has made me realize that there is a matter which I have been putting off for far too long.” She paused and took a deep breath, then went on, determined not to let him see that she was nervous. “The matter of my marriage.” Facing him directly, she wondered what his reaction might be to her blunt statement.

“I see,” he told her. But it was obvious that he truly did not see what connection this could have to him.

Quickly ‘Victoria went on. “I have been quite occupied with running my father’s estates in these past years since my parents were both killed in a boating accident at Bath—” Her voice broke for a moment, as the years between had hardly dulled the pain of being without them. She forced herself to continue in an even tone. “My father was the duke of Carlisle, and…”

He interrupted her, scowling darkly. “Duke—?”

“Yes,” she said, not liking the way he was staring at her now. She continued, wondering what had brought about this reaction. “And as his heir I have been left with a great trust in my keeping. I have realized that I should have married long before this. If I had, none of the events that took place this very night would have happened.”

His expression grew puzzled. “You obviously have a problem,” Jedidiah McBride told her, “but I do not see what it has to do with me.”

A frown marred her own brow. “I am getting to that. It seems clear, Mr. McBride, that I have need of a husband, but it seems equally clear that I have need of a protector until such a man is located. I am asking you, sir, to be my protector.” She hurried on before he could reply. “In return, I am offering to introduce you to London society. There, you would be able to make inquiries about these people, named Fairfield, and your child.”

She raised her head and saw that his face was even more thoughtful than before. He looked up at her, his eyes assessing. “Are you sure that you know what you would be doing here? You do not know me, or anything about me. I have just told you that I fathered an illegitimate child. Doesn’t that concern you in any way?”

She watched him, her gaze never leaving his as they measured each other. The moment stretched on, and she felt a strange stirring inside her as she looked into those clear green eyes, with not even a hint of fear. Feeling an unexplainable breathlessness that she could only put down to her anxiety that he might refuse, Victoria answered him softly. “No, I am not concerned. That was many years ago, and I do not know what happened between you and this woman. But you have come to do right by your child as soon as you learned of his existence. That is not the action of a dishonorable man. In fact, everything that has occurred this evening has made me sure that you would discharge the duty of protecting me with great diligence. I will not judge you by something that must have happened between you and this woman when you were a boy.”

“I was seventeen, and what happened between us was she did not want me,” he supplied dispassionately.

Heavens, she thought, but he had been little more than a child himself! “More fool she,” was all she said in answer.

He seemed more than slightly taken aback and, dared she think it, pleased by her reply. She soon wondered if she had imagined the look of pleasure, for he shrugged noncommittally. “And how long do you believe this business association would last?”

She said, “I have no idea of the exact timing, but I can assure you that I should be able to find myself a husband from among the eligible bachelors who will be attending the season without a great deal of delay. I am not without assets.” Her wealth and position were well-known, and were the very things that had made her a target of Reginald’s greed.

“I would not deny that,” he said, causing her to look at him again. She flushed when she saw the assessing glance he cast over her. Although she realized the man had misunderstood her comment, she did not feel that she could clarify the matter. Not with him studying her like that, those cool green eyes of his making her feel warm in a way she did not understand.

Victoria decided to simply go on with the rest of what she wanted to tell him. “For your part, I would be willing to give you my backing until your parties are found. You will, of necessity, go with me wherever I go. Thus, you may make your inquiries at will.” She paused, then went on, “We shall say that you are my cousin, come from America.”

He quirked a brow, the side of his mouth turning up at the same time, and her heart tripped a double beat. “Your cousin?”

She squared her shoulders, doing her best to concentrate on the conversation, not on his mouth, or the way it made her stomach flutter. “My grandfather’s brother went off to search for adventure there. We have not heard from him or any descendants he might have, but you see, there is no other way to explain your presence in my home. I simply could not entertain any man who was not a relation to me. It would be completely unacceptable.”

“Of course, your kind would expect you to adhere to all the conventions.” She sensed a hint of disdain in his tone, and wondered at it. An unpleasant flash of disquiet darted through her.

When he went on, she momentarily forgot that faint unease. “I accept your offer. I will watch over you and make certain that no harm is done to you while you find a husband. In return, you will introduce me to the people who can help me find my child.”

She nodded. “It is agreed.”

Yet now that they had settled on it, Victoria could not dismiss the tickling feeling of apprehension that lingered as she looked at him. He was watching her, as well, and she had to force herself not to look away from the intensity of his gaze. It was as though he were searching, trying to see if there was something about her that did not please him.

The mere idea of such a thing rankled, but Victoria did not remark on her suspicions, as she had no reason for them. When she went over his actual words in her mind, there was nothing in them to cause her worry.

The sea captain had been nothing but gallant in his rescue of her, a perfect stranger. But the notion that something was wrong could not be totally dismissed, no matter how she told herself that she was being absurd.

Determinedly Victoria pushed her anxiety down, far into the recesses of her mind. She had found a solution to her problems in meeting Jedidiah McBride and was now reacting to him in this way because it put off her real cause for concern—that of finding a husband who would care for her and her father’s estates as they should be.

Victoria had no illusions about love. That was not something she expected or even hoped to find. The oftlauded excitement and fulfillment of that emotion were not for her.

Duty and responsibility must stand in their stead. Then she realized that even as she told herself this, her gaze had strayed quite unaccountably to the handsome stranger who now sat silent on the other side of the carriage.