Chapter 9
THEY COULD HAVE REACHED PORT LAST NIGHT, but their captain was new to the task and too timid to continue on after the rain started, obscuring all view.
Although the channel was heavily trafficked, a veteran captain would have had no trouble avoiding a collision with sister ships.
But it didn’t really matter what time of day they docked at Dover, because their destination was only a little farther down the coast.
Margaret was grateful for the extra time, since she wanted to carefully broach to Edna the subject of the possible marriage, so she and Oliver would know to corroborate the wedding story if it became necessary. She hadn’t counted on her maid being so scandalized by the very idea.
“You can’t do that,” Edna had said bluntly.
“Course I can,” Margaret told her. “Keep in mind he is Sebastian Townshend.”
“Exactly, the disowned son of the Townshends, a family you’re quite close to. You would have given him the cold shoulder if you had met him again under normal circumstances. It makes no sense that you’d marry him.”
Margaret hadn’t thought she’d have to convince Edna of the reasons she might have married Sebastian but trotted out a few.
“I never mentioned this to anyone before, not even to Florence who I confided everything to when we were children, but you know I used to be quite fascinated by him—before the duel, of course. But it isn’t unreasonable that I might have held a tendre for him all these years and been delighted to meet up with him again.
It’s also not unreasonable that I thought I could reconcile him and his family.
And you mentioned it yourself, how handsome he is, certainly handsome enough to turn any girl’s head. ”
“Not yours,” Edna said with a huff.
“No, not mine, but you get the point. I could have fallen in love with him and married him, despite all the reasons I shouldn’t.
Besides, we haven’t yet determined whether we will need to pretend we’re married, but if we do, it’s for a good cause, Edna.
Let’s not forget why I went in search of him in the first place. ”
Edna had agreed in the end, though grudgingly, and went off to let Oliver know what to expect.
Margaret had a few doubts of her own that night, though, especially after recalling Sebastian’s warning about his touching and kissing her.
She’d let him know she wouldn’t tolerate anything of the sort, but—he was a different man these days from the one she’d admired in her youth.
He was a mercenary, a man willing to do whatever was necessary to get the job done, so would he abide by any restrictions she set?
She went to sleep with her doubts but woke up with a new resolve, that she, too, could do whatever was necessary to remove Douglas from danger. And if that meant pretending to be Sebastian Townshend’s wife, so be it.
She found him on the deck that morning, staring pensively at the English coastline, which was now in view.
She’d been gone only four months but had missed her home terribly.
How much worse it must have been for him, being away for so many years.
Or maybe, as he’d claimed, he just didn’t care anymore. Not bloody likely.
The tiers of his greatcoat were flapping in the wind.
On any other man the coat might look dashing.
On Sebastian it somehow added to his menace.
And yet the man was so damned handsome he took her breath away.
This attraction that seemed to be growing stronger each time she saw him was going to be a problem.
She was sure it harked back to her old fascination with him, but still ...
She joined him at the rail, though she hesitated to interrupt his introspection, he looked so bleak. So she was surprised when he said, “Henry Raven.”
“I beg your pardon?” “The name I will use while at your house,” he said.
She started to laugh. “I’m sorry, but you just don’t look like a Henry. Couldn’t you come up with something more suitable?”
“Like what? Black Bart?” She couldn’t hold back her laughter, which prompted him to add, “You know bloody well Henry is about as noble a name as you can get.”
“For a king. Very well, Henry, if you insist. I’ll let Edna and Oliver know. I’ve already warned them we might have to pretend to be married.”
“I can imagine that went over well,” he said dryly.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Edna was quite scandalized. But I convinced her it would be for a good cause, if we find it necessary to go that route, which hasn’t been decided yet.”
He agreed. “If I find out what I need to know before anyone even knows I’m home, nothing else will be required of you.”
“Fair enough.”
It was midmorning before they docked and the passengers and animals were let ashore. Sebastian’s stallion was especially troublesome in the unloading. John’s gelding was placid as usual. But the stallion settled down once he was on solid ground again.
Sebastian didn’t. He was struck with melancholy the moment his feet touched English soil.
God, he’d missed his country of birth, missed it much more than he’d realized.
The bitterness that he lived with, that had been buried so deeply it was simply a part of him, rose up now like black bile to choke his emotions.
He never should have left. Just because his father had disowned him and told him to never darken England’s shores again didn’t mean he actually had to go.
He’d already defied his father in showing up for that duel.
What was one more defiance after that? But his guilt had been horrendous.
And it was still present even after all these years, tearing at his gut, ripping at his mind and heart just as badly now as it had back then.