Lady Fugitive (14 page)

"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?" she demanded.

"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. Is there something I've overlooked?"

"No, in fact, it seems you 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
leave his arms. She'd only felt this overpowering misery at one other parting—when
she'd left Philadelphia and her father to cross the country with Cletus. Now it
was time to say farewell again, and it was worse this time. For Morgan was part
of
Rachel's
life—a fictional 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. 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. That substantially
increases the danger for this voyage. I've concluded my business here in
London. You need me along for protection, and perhaps I'll meet with some
business fellows once we reach New York."

"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."

"Pirates will secure crew's
quarters first, Rachel. I'd be no use at all there. This is a trading vessel,
remember? And this was the only spare cabin. It was empty because Haversham's
first mate was hired as master for another line. Haversham picks up a new mate
when we dock. 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."

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 decisions. 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 like this. You're forcing me to
become your mistress."

Morgan drew himself up to his full
height. "No madam. 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 bound
for the Colonies in the coming weeks. You stressed you'd not delay. 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."
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?"

He nodded. "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 discovered 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."

"I understand." Her shoulders
lifted and fell. "I endured months in a covered wagon and years on the
frontier. I'll endure this."

"Must you say 'endure,' as if you'd
been sent to the Tower to be stretched upon the rack?" He kicked the chair
around and dropped into it. "You claim I deceived you. Perhaps that's
true, but what choice did you leave me, Rachel? The whole village saw me on
bended knee. Instead of returning home from my business outing to set a date
for our marriage, I get a wire from my partner that you're leaving the country.
You thought I'd calmly accept that?" 

"You know there was good
reason."

"Despite what you think, nothing
has ever come easily to me. I learned years ago that a man must fight for what
he wants and there's a price to be paid. Don't be so quick to claim I've won
today. I've also lost a measure of esteem in your eyes. You've vowed never to
trust me again."

"I have only myself to blame,"
she sighed. "I should have known better than to place my faith in you. You
bargain for yourself always, Morgan. Deep down I knew that."

"I couldn't dissuade you from this
insanity, and I couldn't let you board this vessel alone." She saw there
was genuine distress behind his gray eyes. "Why can't you see that I had
no choice, even as you claim to have none? Your family needs you. You need me.
You're just too stubborn to admit it."

"You may be right, but you
shouldn't have handled matters this way. I just wish you'd—"

"You're a fool, Rachel Cordell.
Wishing is a waste of energy. You might have come to care for your late
husband, if you'd spent half the effort trying to appreciate the man as you did
in wishing he'd been a better one." With that he slammed out, leaving her
to stare after him in stunned disbelief.

God help her, she had to tell him before
it was too late. Before he got entangled in the mess that was her life back in
the States. Before he came to hate her for the lies...She couldn't marry him!

Then she groaned, realizing he probably
wouldn't believe her. He'd think she'd made up a wild tale to avoid a forced
marriage. Or that she'd concocted it out of spite. What had he said?
Nothing
has ever come easily to me. A man must fight for what he wants...

He wouldn't relent, no matter what she
told him. And he might be correct about the crew and her safety. It would be
better for her if the men witnessed her taking vows, knew she had a virile
husband watching over her. God! She'd have to go through with the marriage at
sea and find a way to tell him later.

Later. The word sent both a feeling of
dread and a small thrill through her. Tonight would again be her wedding night.
But this time it would be with a man she cared for. Tonight Morgan would make
love to her. She'd be his wife.

She peered out the cabin window. He was
nowhere in sight. She brushed her thick hair and changed into a dress the color
of tarnished silver she found at the bottom of her trunk. She'd never worn it
in England, thinking the color too closely resembled the perpetually overcast
skies. It wasn't black, but it was definitely somber. Considering her situation
and the color of her bridegroom's eyes, it seemed a fitting bridal gown.

Morgan agreed when he returned to the
cabin. "I don't recall that particular frock, madam, but I heartily
approve of your choice. I'll be the envy of every man aboard."

"Thank you. I know you don't want
to discuss this, but could you answer one question? I couldn't afford what this
passage cost, could I?"

"Not on what I paid you. Which
reminds me, you're still due a week's salary." He dug in his coat and
handed her several folded notes. Then he unbuttoned the coat and hung it over
the back of the chair before sitting on the edge of the bunk. He motioned for
her to join him. "We need to discuss a few points."

"Meaning you intend to bully me,
and I'm supposed to listen."

"Do listen. You must remain safely
locked inside this cabin unless I escort you elsewhere. You're not to set foot
outside that door without me. And once we're united in the eyes of God, it's
critical that we appear like any other man and wife. That means you must try to
look
pleased
about wedding me
.
Accept my displays of affection in
front of the men. Do nothing to indicate a rift between us. I want your word
that you'll heed me in this."

"Why am I always the one making
promises? Look what the last one did for me! Morgan,
I'm an American,"
she stressed. "I may never return to England. I really don't know that I'd
be willing to give up my life in the States. Had you thought of that?"

He rose and began rummaging through his
larger trunk. "You shall, because your place is with me, and my holdings
are all in England. I'm not about to become a bloody Colonial."

She shook her head. "This is part
of why I couldn't accept when—actually, you never did come out and ask me to
marry you. You still haven't asked me."

"Only a fool plays with
knives."

She'd risen to peer out the cabin
window. Now she dropped the curtain and turned around. "What's that
supposed to mean?"

"You'd only refuse. I don't need
that particular blade in my chest, thank you all the same."

She groaned. "I hadn't the faintest
idea you were in London, or when you'd be coming back to Crowshaven. You live
at the inn because you travel so much. Am I to be content with a husband who's
seldom home?"

"You weren't content with one who
always was," he reminded her stiffly. "My trade activities will
continue. There will be times when I'm not home to share supper or my bed with
you. Doesn't mean I'll be sharing them with anyone else. All that's finished. I
intend to honor my vows."

The meaning behind those words fully
registered. "So hot-blooded Pamela wasn't enough for you? My God, you must
have a string of bastards from Newcastle to Sheffield! Sniping at me for
listening to Arnold's warnings. This time I'm being forced to marry a rutting
stag. Hardly a step up from the drunken lout."

"You were forced to wed Cletus too?"
he scowled. "Do you dislike men?"

"No. My father decided I should
marry. At the time I barely knew Cletus. He was one of Papa's employees."

"Had he put you in the family
way?"

She was aghast. "I was sixteen
years old! I'd no more than kissed a boy before my wedding night!"

He pulled out a clean white shirt.
"Well, I'm twice that age. Whatever my prior experience, I'll not
apologize for it. What bloody importance is it now? I'm in the middle of the
Atlantic ocean, locked in this cabin, about to marry you."

"You could be locked in here with
Pamela or Medusa herself, and I'd be rejoicing."

"You didn't rejoice when you
thought I'd taken Pamela to bed that afternoon at the inn," he pointed
out. He peeled his rumpled shirt off. Rachel's eyes were drawn to his bare
torso and his hands working the fastening of his breeches. He noticed and
chuckled aloud.

"You're impossibly conceited,"
she hissed, turning her back to him.

His bare arms immediately wrapped around
her shoulders. His breath puffed warm against her cheek. "Look all you like,
Rachel. There's no longer any reason to be shy or pretend you don't want me.
Tonight I'll love you as a man loves a woman, as I've yearned to do for
months."