Chapter Forty-Five #2
No doubt they would soon run out of topics to discuss, though they could share their tales of travel, but there were not enough stories to fill so much time at sea.
“I will visit a bookshop and if I find a book that I wish to read, I will purchase it myself.” She could not continue to accept gifts from Damian.
He had already purchased so much for her.
He had spent far more on her than she had brought with her, of that Georgie was certain.
Then the most dreadful thought crossed her mind.
“Is it because we have been intimate? Are you buying me gifts because we are lovers, as you would purchase for a mistress?” If that were the case, she was going to be ill.
She thought theirs was a mutual understanding, not her being his possession, or being rewarded.
Damian’s blue eyes widened and grew hard as he learned forward.
“Never would I disrespect you in such a manner. We became lovers, yes, but I care for you, Georgie. This is not some temporary arrangement that I purchased until I grow bored.” He pulled away, his face once again relaxed.
“You have become a friend to me, and as I know you enjoy books and because I know how long you are likely to be on the ship avoiding the sun, I wanted to purchase more books so that you were entertained, as a friend, and not because you are my lover.”
His explanation soothed her concern of what she feared that she had become to him.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
He considered her a friend while she was coming to love him.
It was not practical to have developed such deep emotions for a man that she had known for so short a time.
She had always promised herself that she would never be so foolish again, yet, here she was, in love again, and this time it wasn’t infatuation masked as love, but real.
Of that, she was certain no matter how impossible it should be.
They ate in silence for the longest time because Georgie was not certain what to say.
No topic came to her mind because her thoughts were on Damian, her heart, and how much she was going to miss him.
Emotions that she would keep secreted away.
He did not need the burden of her love when they would part in but a few days.
It was hers alone to carry because he considered her only as a friend and lover.
After they had finished eating, Damian set the tray with the plates and utensils on the table and refilled their teacups before he returned to the bed and lounged against propped pillows as she was sitting.
“Are you ever afraid of being lonely,” Damian asked quietly.
“It is not something I think about. Why?”
“I always knew that I would never wed. It would be unfair to a wife and children because I would never be home. By remaining a bachelor, the time that I would be at home would be lonely. But to marry would be selfish.”
“I suppose it would be,” she said after a moment, but it also wasn’t a certainty. “But you do not know your future.”
“Ah, but I am afraid that I do.”
There was such a sadness…depression in his tone.
“I never told you about my mother, did I.”
“No.” Georgie had assumed that she had died since Damian had only spoken of his father.
“She lives at Wyndview Farm, in the Cape Colony.” Damian took a sip of his tea. “I have not seen her in eleven years.”
First his brother, Elliot, who he hadn’t seen in five years and now his mother in all that time. “Why?”
“Because she was lonely,” he answered simply.
“I recall how it was in the Cape Colony, growing up on the vineyard, running, playing and time spent with our tutor. That was where we were to live for the remainder of our life and Sterling would take over. I suppose I could have left and done something else, but I was only ten when we had to sail to England, so I had no true plans for my future.”
She supposed that he wouldn’t at that age, especially since he was the second born of a younger son.
“Once we arrived in England, Sterling, Elliot, and I were sent off to school. Jules the following year and two years later Avery. In three years, all five of us were in school and only home for a few holidays. Mother had been used to us being underfoot but in three short years she was alone.”
“What of friends or neighbors?”
“Mother was a stranger to England. She had been born and raised in the Cape Colony. She had hoped that Father would make introductions, but he never had time. Between the earldom and Trade Wynd, all aspects that he had to manage on his own, he never had time for Mother. She grew lonely. Then the time came that Father needed to return to the Cape Colony and took mother along. As we were in school, we did not go. By that time, we were old enough and had friends that we could share holidays with until our parents returned.”
“Except they did not,” Georgie guessed quietly.
“Father did, but Mother did not.”
She could not imagine being away from her family for eleven years, especially when a husband was absent and there were no true friends to call on.
“Has she written?” Georgie almost didn’t ask because it was bad enough that she was gone, but what if she also ignored her children.
“We have shared a regular correspondence. I am apprised of her life and she is of mine.”
“Still, I am certain that you miss her.”
“I do, at times, and I would like to see her again, I have just never had the opportunity to be gone from Trade Wynd for so long.”
“And that is the reason you will never wed. You fear that a wife will suffer as your mother did,” Georgie concluded, realizing why he had decided on bachelorhood.
“She would never see me and would grow lonely and feel neglected. I could not do that to any woman, which is why I anticipate being lonely in my later years.”
“If you married a woman from England, she would already have friends, and family, that she could visit. You would not be the only person she knows.”
“True,” he answered with a smile. “However, it is not an Englishwoman I want.”
Georgie nearly sucked in a breath but silently chastised herself. Damian could mean anyone. Just because they were lovers did not mean he wanted a further or deeper relationship with her.
He rose from the bed, took her empty teacup. After he placed all dishes from their breakfast on the tray, including the teacups and teapot, he slid the empty tray under the full one then lifted them both. “I will return after I have delivered these to the galley.”
Georgie watched silently as he left the cabin and closed the door behind him.
Who did he want if not an Englishwoman? Did she dare hope that it was her?
Foolish, of course, but even if it was, would she be willing to risk a lonely life away from her family to be with a man who admitted that all his waking hours were spent at Trade Wynd?
That would be no marriage.