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Authors: Shannah Biondine

BOOK: Cachet
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She recalled the hours Morgan spent reading, his visits to the pub and the inn when he talked with farmers and tradesmen, thought about his knowledge of world-wide events and business. Finally she spoke. "I accept your terms. Arrange passage however you can and I'll repay you when I get home. I promise, Morgan. I'll trust your judgment as to what's best."

"Indeed? You didn't about marrying me. You meant to leave without so much as a backward glance."

"That's unfair and you know it. This couldn't be helped."

"Almost conveniently."

Her dark eyes flashed. "Are you suggesting I fabricated this story about my father? Why would I? I didn't need your permission to leave Crowshaven, Morgan. I might have gone back home any time I pleased."

"True, and who am I to argue? Only your employer, your landlord, and the man who asked you to be his wife! You say I think of naught but myself and my own interests. When did you consider me in this?"

"I wasn't running away from you, Morgan," Rachel ground out. In another minute she would spill everything just to see the horror in his eyes and shut him up.

"Perhaps not, but that hardly changes the final outcome, does it? Stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

It was dusk when he returned. Violet retreated upstairs to her bedchamber, leaving the two young people alone.

"I bartered for a small cabin on a cargo vessel," Morgan announced. "The captain wasn't pleased at the prospect of a woman aboard, but my promise she'd be in weeds allayed his fears somewhat. I didn't mention those same garments proved quite enticing to me."

She was really going home! It was difficult to speak around the painful lump in her throat. "Thank you. I'll never forget your help today."

"I've been thinking, Rachel. I may travel to the States on business myself in future. I could call on you there."

"Your life is here in England. You can't court someone across the Atlantic. And America's immense, teeming with people. The chances for a rendezvous are slim at best. It's over."

"So there's no point in asking you to come back once your family crisis is resolved?"

"I have no idea when that might be. There's...it's complicated. I can't promise anything beyond repayment for my passage. Please tell me how much I owe you."

"Damn it, Rachel, I don't want money from you! I—" He stopped until she met his eyes. "I wanted a life with you. I brought you something." He pushed a small box into her hands.

"No, please take it back," she whispered. "I can't accept a gift under these circumstances."

His fingers closed around hers. "It's just a modest token, love. To remind you of our time together. Unless you're anxious to forget me."

A teardrop coursed down one cheek, but Rachel fought to ignore it and how her heart was wrenching in her chest. "Lord in heaven, I don't want to forget you. But I can't take anything beyond the help you've given me. That's a precious gift in itself, knowing how you feel about me."

"You don't wholeheartedly share those same feelings, though," he stated as he accepted the box she pushed back at him. "Or perhaps you've take Somersdale's word over mine about fidelity."

"It doesn't matter now."

"It does to me. I offered you a future, my name—things I've never offered another woman. Wily females clawed to get what I'd freely give to you. Perhaps you enjoy trampling on my spirit."

"That's simply not true." Rachel stared into his eyes, willing him to read what she didn't dare say. "I never set out to hurt you or let things develop as they have. Neither of us planned for this. It just happened...to the wrong people at the wrong time."

He got to his feet and headed to the door. "Aye. Go home, Colonial. Remember our bargain. No complaints about your tiny cabin, or you'll be left at the docks. Good luck with your father." He paused before opening the door. "May the next man to kiss you drive some warmth into your icy little heart."

She knew his pride was nettled, knew he'd said those words purposely to lash out because she'd hurt him. She shouldn't listen, it was only wounded pride talking. Yet she found her temper rising. "Thank you. And may I be the last woman to ever kiss you! Perhaps a life of eternal frustration is what you have coming, you rake. I'll write from Philadelphia, and I expect you to name a sum. I'm determined to repay you for my passage. I'll never forget you, but neither will I spend the rest of my life beholden to you."

He gave a sarcastic laugh. "You don't write to men, remember? You said you'd never written a man in your life."

The man was beneath insufferable. "I've never had my hair turn gray, bounced a baby on my knee, or been arrested, either. Doesn't mean I never will."

 

Chapter 11

 

Rachel sat on the bunk glancing about the cabin. The entire space wasn't much more than a bunk and a table with room to walk in between. She guessed the cabin's former occupant must have been a large man. The bunk was fairly wide.

The captain introduced himself as Haversham. He pointed out the extra barrels of fresh water, small coal stove with its metal stack jutting through the ceiling, and bed curtains that had been hung up across the bunk. A tin bathtub was stowed beneath the bunk. An iron bolt had been installed on the inside of the cabin's door. All at Morgan's request. She was more than mildly surprised. Morgan had been very specific about creature comforts. The captain cleared his throat. "Was told you'd be wearin' black. Even after we weigh anchor?"

"Yes. I'd just come out of mourning for my late husband when I learned my father's dying back in Philadelphia. That's why I have to get home. Sometimes it seems I'll be wearing black for the rest of my life. How long to reach New York?"

"Month or so, dependin' on weather." Two deckhands delivered her trunk. The captain watched as they set down the luggage and stared at the cabin's new occupant. "Wasn't fond of the notion of a lady aboard, but your man's—"

"Very persuasive," Rachel supplied. "I know. I appreciate this, Captain. What did Mr. Tremayne trade for my passage?"

"Agreed not to discuss that. We'll be out 'fore tide changes." With that gruff response, Haversham left her to her musings.

Dark they were. An uncertain future loomed ahead once more, just as it had when she'd boarded the covered wagon to head down the Oregon trail. This time it was more daunting than she'd let herself admit. She could be going home to help nurse Jeremiah back to a semblance of health. She could be returning for his funeral. She might end up facing a trial and prison. But she refused to contemplate that possibility. If she did, she might end up jumping overboard.

A tattered blanket and thin coverlet had been provided on the bunk. She pulled out her quilt and smoothed it atop the covers. That small gesture made her feel better. The colorful quilt lent a bright cheer to the otherwise depressingly dingy cabin.

"It makes the room," announced a deep voice from the doorway. Her heart leaped into her throat.

"Morgan!"

She threw herself into his arms. "I thought you'd left for Crowshaven by now. I'm so glad you came to see me off. I find I'm rather nervous about this crossing."

"Are you, Colonial?"

"Maybe it was those tales you painted or the captain's manner. He's not what I'd call sociable." Morgan gently unwrapped her arms from his neck and began checking the cabin.

"He's a man of his word, which is more important. He's had the place cleaned up nicely."

"He wouldn't tell me what passage cost. You must have traded something of value, but he refused to discuss it." Morgan nodded and continued poking around. "How dare you swear him to silence?"

"How quickly the lady forgets her promises," he chided. "You agreed not to bicker about the arrangements. You gave your word that as long as I saw to your safety and welfare, you'd trust my judgment in the matter. Is there something I've overlooked?"

"No, in fact, it seems you've thought of everything. It's not fancy, but my needs are simple."

"Then the cost is unimportant." He sounded exactly like the impossible employer who'd made her so crazy at the holding company office. Suddenly she realized how much she'd come to depend upon his terse manner and unyielding strength.

"Oh, but I'm going to miss you! Please say good-bye to Chrissy and Boyd for me. And the Pooles, though I suppose Emily will be glad to have me gone."

Morgan wrapped strong arms around her. His lips molded to hers in a long and tender kiss. Rachel couldn't breathe, but wouldn't stop kissing him back and clinging tightly to him. She never wanted to let go or leave his arms. She'd only felt this overpowering misery at one other parting. When she'd left Philadelphia with Cletus and bid farewell to her father. Now it was time to say farewell again, and it was worse this time. For Morgan was part of
Rachel's
life—a life Richelle now had to leave behind.

A hacking cough came from behind them. Grimy knuckles rapped against the open cabin door. Morgan held Rachel protectively against his chest and nodded over the top of her head to the seaman. "This will do. Put my things over there."

Rachel stiffened. "Your things?"

"I'm sailing with you."

"Oh no you're not, Morgan Tremayne! I never agreed to that!"

Morgan laid a finger to his lips, silencing her until he'd closed the cabin door after the tar. "For once you'll hear me out before you start carping. When I came here to the docks, I learned the Southern Confederacy has hired privateers."

"So?"

"Commissioned pirates
. Cargo vessels headed for Northern states run the risk of being boarded and having their cargoes seized. There's no way I can permit you to sail alone. I've concluded my business here in London. I'll call upon venture capitalists in New York. You need me along for protection."

"You could have talked the captain into a separate cabin for yourself or a bunk somewhere, even if you had to share the crew's quarters."

"Leaving you at the mercy of whatever comes? Pirates will secure crew's quarters first, Rachel! I'd be no use at all there. This is a trading vessel, remember? This is the only spare cabin. It was empty because Haversham's first mate was hired as master on another line. Haversham picks up a new mate when we dock in New York. And privateers are only part of the problem."

"
You're
the problem!"

"No matter how decent the crew may outwardly appear, you'll be the only female for a thousand miles. Think about that." He shook his dark head firmly. "I'll be with you to keep you safe. We agreed, no arguments about safety precautions."

She stomped her foot. "You tricked me, Morgan! I'll wait for another ship."

"We had a covenant, did we not? You accepted my help and agreed to abide by my decision. You were very specific in the terms of your offer. I'm being equally specific about the terms of my protection."

"You know I had no idea this—" she gestured angrily at the bunk, "was what you meant! I never suspected you plotted to have me ensconced with you! You're forcing me to become your mistress."

Morgan drew himself up to his full height. "No madam. You won't be my mistress. The captain's marrying us this very afternoon."

She gave his cheek a stinging slap. "You have no idea what you've done! We'll both live to regret this. I swear I'll never forgive you for this!" She buried her face in her hands and broke into choking sobs.

Morgan rubbed his cheek with a bronze knuckle. "Nevertheless, I hold you to your promise. You'll see America, as you so desperately crave, but only by marrying me and sharing this cabin. You'll have my protection, or you'll not go at all. No other ships are slated for the Colonies in the next month or more. This was the only available space, and I had to sell my granary to get it. If you've changed your mind about returning to your ailing father, say the word and I'll have our things put ashore. But decide now. Her cargo's on."

Rachel heard the shouts of the men on deck. Final preparations were underway. She sank into the wooden chair at the battered table, utterly defeated. He knew she couldn't turn back. She'd made a pact, and this was where it had led her. There was no escaping the Bargainer.

"I await your answer," Morgan reminded harshly. "Do I tell the men to remove our things?"

She kept her face averted as she dried her tears. "No. You win, Morgan. But you cheated and we both know it. You didn't barter for this passage. You just admitted you paid for it. I'll never trust you again." She glared up at him. "I just want to know one thing. When did you devise this marvelous scheme? When I foolishly solicited your help in booking passage, or even before you arrived on my aunt's doorstep?"

"I negotiated with the captain for both of us to be aboard from the first, Rachel. For the reasons I just stated. You need me. But to be perfectly frank, you gave me the idea for the marriage at sea."

"
I
gave you the idea?"

"At your aunt's the other evening. You wished to be the last woman I ever kissed." Her eyes widened. "I've wanted you from the day we met. I simply put two and two together, and discovered I had the means to make both our wishes come true."

He occupied himself elsewhere until after midday, then rapped at the bolted cabin door. "It's Morgan. Open the door, Colonial." She let him in and turned her back. "I know you're angry, but we must understand one another."

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