Chapter 1
Chapter One
The British Colony of Nova Scotia
Seven weeks later
Charlie Coates nearly skidded sideways into the large cherry oak table in the dining room. “The ship’s in the basin!”
His father, Adam, seated at the table, looked up from his book and calmly removed his spectacles. He set them down beside the sterling silver candelabra.
“Calm down, son, and catch your breath. It’s just a ship.”
“But it’s her ship, Papa!”
“Yes, that it is.” Adam couldn’t deny the tremor of anticipation that moved through him at his son’s reminder. “I suppose I should go and greet her, shouldn’t I?”
He gave his youngest son a smile and rose to his feet.
“I’ll hitch up the buggy!” Charlie offered. The boy spun on his heel and dashed out of the house.
Adam stood at the dining room table for a moment and listened to the mantel clock ticking.
How many years had it been? Twenty? No, not twenty. Fifteen. He couldn’t pretend, not even to himself, not to remember the exact day Diana had jilted him to marry another.
Nor could he forget how long he had been married to Jane, God rest her soul, for her violent outbursts had taken their toll on him, to be sure. He was not the carefree, idealistic man he once was….
Glancing down at his simple clothing—his plain white shirt and tawny breeches—Adam wondered what Diana would think when she first saw him. Would she even recognize him?
His appearance hadn’t changed that much over the years, except for perhaps a few gray patches in his hair and the lines around his eyes. He was forty-three now, but he was as strong and vigorous as any man half his age. Stronger, even.
He held out his rough, callused hands and looked them over. Most of the changes, he supposed, she would not be able to see. At least not right away.
He decided then and there that he would quickly change his clothes and don his Sunday best.
Good Lord, what would she look like? How had the years treated her? Had they darkened her exquisite golden hair or tarnished the clean, pale complexion he remembered?
Not that it mattered, he decided. She would still be Diana—his Diana—and he would adore the changes, whatever they were.
With a mingling of euphoria and nervous anticipation, he walked out of the dining room and went upstairs to quickly change his clothes.
* * *
Madeline stood with her hands tight on the rail, her feet braced apart on the rolling deck of the Liberty.
The glorious wind whipped her skirts and cloak, and a salty spray cooled her cheeks. She closed her eyes to breathe in the moist, clean scent of the sea and listen to the schooner’s heavy keel slice through the frothy waves below.
It wouldn’t be long now, she thought dreamily. Then there would be no more waiting, no more imagining what it would be like to see Adam Coates again after all these years.
Adam. Should she call him that when she first saw him? How strange to use his Christian name, when he’d always been Mr. Coates to her. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to force the word past her lips with any measure of casual dignity and sound like a wife.
Well, she wasn’t his wife yet, but she would be soon. Very soon.
Her heart did a little dance inside her chest at the thought of marrying her prince charming, even though she had been just a child when she had last seen him.
Anxious gulls squawked against the blue sky overhead, swooping over the billowing sails as the boat neared the dock at the mouth of Cumberland Creek.
The schooner docked smoothly and surely.
Soon Madeline was stepping down the gangplank to the wharf below and gazing eagerly up at Fort Cumberland on the hill in the distance.
Madeline paused a moment to take in her surroundings while the crewmen unloaded her trunks.
The salty tang of the sea whisked by on a fast wind, whipping her skirts around her ankles and tugging at her hat.
She reached a hand up to keep it from flying off, while the ribbons flew wildly about her chin.
She squinted toward the rolling, windswept expanse of grass that stretched for acres and acres into the distance, flanked on either side by ridges of wooded upland.
This land—this magnificent land—would be her home. It hardly seemed possible!
“Come along! This way!” Mr. Ripley called out, waving toward his family. He and his wife had been Madeline’s guardians and companions during the crossing. Madeline hoped the kind family, who knew nothing of her scandal, would find land nearby and become her neighbors here.
“You, too, Madeline!” Mr. Ripley called to her.
“Follow us this way to the fort. We had your trunks put in the wagon with ours.” Madeline picked up her skirts and began the long trek up the cart road, stepping carefully over the loose stones.
They reached the top of the hill and made their way to the fort’s entrance.
While Mr. Ripley located an empty room for his family in one of the barracks, Madeline glanced around the courtyard. Wondering if Adam was already there waiting, she searched the faces of the tradesmen and farmers.
Good heavens, her heart was beating like a wild thing in her chest. It had been a lifetime since she had last seen Adam, but there was no way on God’s green earth that she would not recognize him.
She would know his eyes the moment she caught them in her eager gaze.
They were the bluest eyes she’d ever seen in her life. Unforgettable.
Doris Ripley appeared beside her. “Is he here yet?”
“I do not see him,” Madeline said. “Perhaps he doesn’t know the schooner has arrived. I should send a message to him.”
“I’ll find someone,” Mrs. Ripley quickly offered. She looked around, anxious to help.
At that moment, a tall man walked into the courtyard. He wore a finely made black coat, the ruffles of a clean white shirt visible at his collar, and a black tricorn hat. He carried himself with a grace and confidence that made most heads in the yard turn and stare.
Even from a distance, Madeline knew. It was him.
Her blood rushed to her head, and her knees came dangerously close to buckling beneath her skirts.
She grabbed blindly for Mrs. Ripley’s sleeve before the woman walked away. “Wait. He’s here.”
Mrs. Ripley glanced toward the fort’s entrance. “My word, Madeline…” she said, in a breathy voice.
Fighting the crippling sensation that had taken over her legs, Madeline watched him pause just inside the main gate.
Dear God, he was a magnificent man, even more handsome than she remembered, if that were possible.
The years had been good to him. There was a confident manliness in him now.
A maturity that filled her with elation.
Madeline quickly straightened her cream-colored fichu, ran her hands over her tight, boned bodice and down her striped cotton skirt.
Adam approached a man inside the entrance, and spoke to him.
The man pointed a powder horn toward Madeline and the other passengers from the Liberty, who all stood in a crowd outside the barracks.
The next moment, Adam was walking toward them, his long strides full of purpose, his gaze searching over everyone. There was anticipation in his eyes.
Could it be that he was as ardent in his yearning as she?
Mrs. Ripley nudged Madeline a few times in the arm, and she heard someone behind her whisper with interest, “Is that Miss Oxley’s fellow? My word…”
What was said after that, she had no idea. It was all Madeline could do to keep a calm, composed expression on her face and prepare herself to say hello.
Adam stopped in front of Mrs. Ripley, removed his hat and slid it under his arm.
His shoulder-length dark hair—lightened with a hint of gray here and there—was tied back with a ribbon.
His eyes were still as blue as an autumn sky, framed with black brows and black lashes, and he wore a polite yet confident expression.
Madeline’s heart warmed at the sight of him. Though she knew he was a stranger to her now, she felt as if she had known him all her life, which, in a way, she had. The idea of him was a part of who she was, a part of her identity.
He glanced once at Madeline—rather indifferently—then turned his attention back to Mrs. Ripley again. “Good afternoon, madam. I have come to meet someone, and I wonder if you could tell me—”
Before he had a chance to finish, Mrs. Ripley put her arm around Madeline’s waist, pushed her forward and said with a warm smile, “Yes, Mr. Coates, she is right here, eager to make your acquaintance.”
Adam’s gaze fell upon Madeline again, a little more attentively this time. For a long moment, he studied her face.
Madeline felt suddenly self-conscious in front of all these interested spectators.
She cleared her throat to say, “How do you do, Mr. Coates,” but before she had the chance, his dark brows pulled together with concern.
“No, it is someone else I have come to meet. We are to be married. She sailed from Scarborough weeks ago. Her name is Lady Thurston.”
For a long, awkward moment, no one said a word. The other passengers looked about in confusion, while all Madeline could do was swallow over the shock, confusion, and heartbreak that was quickly rising up within her.