In two hours Anne would be married, yet as she stood in front of the cheval glass in her gown of satin, lace, and tiny beaded pearls, she felt no measure of excitement. She liked Chetwyn. She surely did. Marriage to him would be proper. She would be proper. She adjusted the veil that fell from a wreath of orange blossoms and wished she’d chosen some other sort of blossom because oranges always reminded her of Tristan. And she didn’t want to think of him today. She didn’t want to think of him ever again.
She was wrapping about her finger the strip of leather that he had once used to bind his hair, to bind hers. She needed to toss it away, but she knew, instead, she would return it to her jewelry box before she left for the church.
“Don’t you look lovely, my lady,” Martha said. “Lord Chetwyn is such a fortunate man.”
“It is I who am fortunate.” The words were the proper thing to say, so why were her eyes burning? “I think you’ll be happy in Chetwyn’s household.”
“Ew.”
Anne turned to find her maid’s brow furrowed so deeply that she was surprised the woman didn’t yelp in pain. “Ew?”
Martha released a deep sigh. “I was going to tell you after the wedding—”
“Tell me what?”
She smiled brightly. “Mr. Peterson has asked me to marry him. I’ve said yes.”
Anne took Martha’s hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Congratulations. Although I don’t understand why that should make you dread Chetwyn’s household.”
“Oh, I don’t dread his house, but telling you, m’lady, that I won’t be going. I’m giving my notice.”
Releasing her hold on Martha, Anne scoffed. “That’s a silly thing to do. It’ll be years before he returns—”
“No, he came back last night. Said he missed me too much and had the captain turn the ship about.”
Anne’s heart slammed against her ribs. “They’re in port?”
Martha nodded. “Yes, miss.”
Anne’s gaze shot to the window. What was she expecting for God’s sake? To see Tristan clambering into her bedchamber?
“But they’re setting sail again this afternoon,” Martha continued. “Just not with Mr. Peterson. He’s given up the sea. He’s going to work in a shipping office or some such. He’s saved his money so we can purchase a home. I don’t have to work any more.”
“Oh, Martha, I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy for myself.” Her smile grew. “I never thought to find love. He’s a good man.”
“I’ve no doubt of that.”
A brisk knock sounded on her door. Martha hurried over to open it. Stiff and clearly unhappy, Jameson stood beside Chetwyn. “Leave us, Martha,” her brother ordered.
Martha gave Anne a quick look before scampering into the hallway.
“Chetwyn wishes to speak with you before the nuptials. Highly unusual, but I’ve granted him permission. However, the door is to remain op—”
Chetwyn stepped into the bedchamber and slammed the door shut in her brother’s face. Anne pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. She could only imagine Jameson’s startled expression. She’d never seen Chetwyn so forceful. It was a bit disconcerting to realize that it excited her to see him this way.
He strode to the fireplace, raised his arm, pressed it against the mantel, and stared into the cold empty hearth. “Do wish I’d stopped by your father’s study for a bit of spirits.”
“I have some brandy.”
Looking over his shoulder at her, he grinned. “Do you?”
“Yes, would you like some?”
He shook his head. “No, I suppose not. You should know, Anne, that I will treat you kindly.”
“I never doubted that.”
“You will never want for anything. I am convinced and believe with all my heart that I can provide you with a satisfactory life. But I daresay that I believe you deserve more.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think Lord Tristan is a rotten bastard,” he continued. “But be that as it may, I’ve seen the way he looks at you and more, I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“How is that, my lord?” she dared to ask.
“As though you are the only two people who exist in the world.” He faced her completely. “Do you love me, Anne?”
She dreaded answering him. She didn’t want to hurt him but she couldn’t begin today with a lie.
“I don’t love you either,” he said as though she had responded. “I asked you to marry me because of Walter’s letter. I’ve come to the unfortunate conclusion at a rather inconvenient time that it’s not enough upon which to base a marriage.”
“Walter’s letter?”
He reached into a pocket inside his jacket and removed a yellowed crumpled piece of paper. “He was ill when he wrote it. I suspect he knew he would die. He asked me to see that you were happy, and I thought that I could ensure that best if you were my wife. I thought I owed him that at least. I pushed him into joining a regiment, into making his own way. Our coffers are thin, you see, and I didn’t want to give him an allowance. Then we declared war on Russia and I told him to sell his commission. Marriage to you would bring him a dowry; he could make do with that. But he didn’t want to be seen as a coward. It’s my fault he’s dead.”
“No, Chetwyn.” Her heart going out to him, she crossed over and placed her hand on his cheek. She had yet to put on her gloves and she was grateful she could offer him a warm touch of comfort. “He always liked playing soldier as a lad. You know that. Nothing you could have said would have swayed him from going. His heart was set on it. You can’t hold yourself responsible. We all have to make our choices and live with them.”
“Is that what we’re doing, Anne? Making choices with which we must live?”
“Are you crying off?” she asked, halfway teasing, halfway serious, not quite sure what she wanted his answer to be.
“We beat him up you know.”
“Who? Walter?”
“No. Lord Tristan.”
Her stomach tightening, she stepped away.
“The night he came to the club,” Chetwyn explained. “After he told us that he had attempted to seduce you but that nothing occurred between you and he. We escorted him outside and pummeled him. Rather badly, actually. He didn’t lift a hand to stop us.”
“No, he wouldn’t have.”
“I thought he’d have been a better fighter, that he would have held his own against us.”
“He certainly could have if he’d chosen. I saw him beat off the ruffians that my idiot brother hired while barely mussing his clothes.”
“So why didn’t he resist?”
“I suspect because he thought he deserved the beating. Or maybe he wouldn’t hurt those I care for. Probably the latter,” she said after a bit more thought.
“Do you love him, Anne?”
Tears burning her eyes, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. The sea is his home . . . and what sort of life would that be for a lady?”
“If it includes love, I should think it would be a very wonderful life, indeed.”
“Oh, Chetwyn.” A sob broke free, and he enfolded her in his arms. He smelled of tart spices while she longed for the fragrance of oranges.
“I vowed that I would honor Walter’s request and see you happy, but I don’t believe your happiness lies with me.”
“According to my maid, he’s sailing off today.”
“Then it seems to me that you should tell him how you feel before he goes. My carriage is in the drive if you wish to go somewhere.”
“My father and brothers have taken to watching me like a hawk.”
“I shall entice them into the library to drink a toast to my happiness.”
Leaning back, she studied his strong features and thought it was quite possible that in time she would have come to love him. “I hope someday you find a woman who deserves you.”
“Meanwhile, darling Anne, let’s stop Walter’s ghost from coming to haunt us, shall we?”
Laughing, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “By all means.”
Tristan read the words a third and final time. He’d never been a man of indecision and he wasn’t one now. He knew what he wanted, and while he wasn’t quite certain he’d acquire it, he did know that he’d live with regret for the remainder of his life if he didn’t at least try.
With a deep sigh, he dipped the pen into the inkwell and scrawled his name on the designated line. Dropping the pen on his desk, he headed for the doorway.
“Just like that and you’re done?” Jenkins asked.
Tristan paused at the door and glanced back over his shoulder. “I have a church to get to.”
“Good luck, Cap’n.”
He was going to need a good deal more than luck. Tristan rushed through the door and up the stairs to the deck. His plan had been to get off the ship as quickly as possible, but he needed one more moment. Just one.
He went to the railing, wrapped his hands around the familiar wood that had become worn over the years—
“Tristan! Tristan!”
He jerked his attention to the docks and watched as Anne, dressed in ivory, with a veil and a swath of skirts billowing out behind her, ran along the warped planks, dodging this way and that to avoid the working men. His heart lurched, tightened, threatened to stop. What the devil was she doing here?
“Anne!”
“Tristan!” She began frantically waving her arm as though he couldn’t see her.
But even a heavy fog wouldn’t have kept him from seeing her. And certainly nothing was going to keep him from her. He leaped over the railing and jogged down the gangway. He reached the dock in time to gather her in his arms. “Anne.”
Damnation but it felt so good to hold her again, as though he’d finally come home.
“I’m going with you,” she said, clinging to him. “I don’t care if it’s improper. I don’t care if my reputation will be ruined or no gent will want me after you’re done with me—”
Leaning back, he pressed his thumb to her lips before she could utter any more nonsensical words. “Why in God’s name would I ever be done with you?”
“Because I’m not a proper lady. Because I’ve lain with you without benefit of marriage. I know it makes me the sort of woman that a man doesn’t want forever. But I don’t care. I don’t care if you never marry me. I don’t care if I live in sin and my family refuses to acknowledge me. I’ll travel the world with you. I’ll swim naked in ponds and—”
“You don’t swim.”
“I’ll learn. Just please. Take me with you to the far side of the world.”
“I can’t, sweetheart.”
He saw the devastation of rejection fill her eyes and he wanted to kick himself for the words he’d spoken and the ones he hadn’t. “I’ve sold my ship, Anne.”
She blinked, the shock of his words apparent. “Why ever would you do that?”
“So you’d have no doubt that I was committed to living a life on land. I was on my way to the church, to embarrass you in front of all of London. I was going to charge to the front of the sanctuary, kneel down, and ask you to become my wife before you had a chance to exchange vows with Chetwyn.”
Smiling brightly, she laughed. “Were you really?”
“I love you, Anne, so damned much that it terrifies me. But a life without you terrifies me more. I don’t need the sea. All I need is you. We’ll find a posh house here in London and one in the country and I’ll be a gentleman that you can be proud of.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, my darling, I am proud of you. And you are a gentleman and a gentle man in spite of the hardships of your life. I love you, Tristan. I didn’t want to. I didn’t think I ever wanted to love again because the potential for hurt is so great, but so is the potential for happiness. With you I’m happy. With Chetwyn, I would be only content. I don’t care if we live in London or the country or a cottage by the sea. I only care that I’m in your arms.”
“That, my darling, is where you shall always be.”