“Please, Captain Halloren, may I have a piece of that sticky fruit?”
“Perhaps, if you are a very good girl and are quick about it.” He cast a critical look at the gathering late-day rain clouds.
“Why?”
“Because soon, that pretty blue dress you’re wearing will be soaked through by rain.”
“Oh,” she said, and eyed the clouds as well. When she turned back to him, he carefully placed a section of orange in her mouth and then pulled her close while she chewed and then kissed the juice away.
Rachel’s lips and hands ached to become part of him. She opened her mouth and he invaded with his tongue, kissing her thoroughly. When she moaned into his mouth and put her arms around his neck, he pulled her so close she could barely breathe. When he feathered his fingers against the side of her breast, her knees turned to jelly and she jerked away.
She whirled, unable to face him after her wanton behavior had probably made him think she wished him to take liberties with her body. She was not used to being courted, but was sure she’d done something wrong.
When she finally had the courage to seek his eyes she saw no censure there.
“I’m sorry, Rachel.” He pulled her gloved hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her knuckles. “I wanted you so much, I forgot this is all new to you.” He rubbed the back of her hand where he’d placed the kiss. “Forgive me?”
A low rumble sounded over the orchard, and rain began to pour down, drenching both of them. She ignored the wet dress stuck to her skin and reached up to pull his face down and steal another quick kiss before running back toward the vicarage with Christopher close behind.
10
By the time Rachel and Chris arrived at the vicarage chicken yard, the late monsoon rain had ended, but her dress was plastered to her skin and his jacket was a sodden mess.
He was trying not to stare at Rachel’s curves the wet linen did nothing to hide. He’d ushered her safely to the back door whilst trying not to enrage the swarm of chickens that surrounded her when the door opened suddenly and her father peered at them. He shook his head slowly and motioned with his hand for them to follow him to his study.
Once the Vicar Berry closed the door, he sat behind his desk and pointed to the two chairs in front facing him. Chris’s stomach dropped like the day he’d fallen out of his father’s apple tree, and he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. He could not carry on with the charade of a pretend engagement whilst facing the temptation of being so close to Rachel. He was not that strong. Sitting there in the moment, he couldn’t imagine what he’d been thinking to suggest such a thing. Across from him, Rachel sat in her wet dress, her eyes shuttered.
The vicar broke the silence. “I must apologize. My engagement announcement this afternoon was sudden. I’m certain the two of you were caught unawares.” He stood, walked to the window, and stared out into the dusk. “When young couples come to me about marriage, I always give them a small talk, and I should not have neglected that duty with the two of you.” When he turned back to stare directly into their eyes, the expression on his face was no longer benevolent. The lines around his lips had hardened and there was a sadness in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I know the pact you’ve made to pretend this is a true engagement, and I’m also sure you both believe you can walk away from each other once you’re back in England, away from the gossip and censure of this small community.”
He sat down again behind his desk and leaned forward on his elbows. “I take full responsibility for the predicament I’ve created. I came to you to help me ensure Rachel is safely delivered back to England.” He nodded to Chris. “And I regrettably manipulated Rachel into going along with the plan in exchange for the hope of training at the mission school.” When he paused for a long moment, Rachel sniffed into the silence. And Chris wished to hell he had a sword with him he could fall on.
“However, something happened that I didn’t expect. The two of you have come to care for each other.” The vicar waited again, as if daring one or both of them to deny his words. “Love, no matter what form it might take, is not to be treated lightly.”
Chris tried to intervene. “Vicar Berry, I…”
“Please, stop. Do not say something you’ll regret later. Words are meaningless. We reveal ourselves through our actions, Captain Halloren.”
At that, Rachel stood and fled from the room.
After she’d gone, Chris stared after her and then turned back to the vicar. “I will not lie, sir. I’ve come to harbor deep feelings for your daughter. However, I will honor whatever she wishes when we reach England. I have a sister, a widow, in London. She would welcome Rachel for however long your daughter needs a home and protection.”
“You are a good man, Captain, but I worry about you. I’m entrusting you with my daughter’s life, but you have to protect your own as well. Once we cross a certain line with women, we poor men cannot find our way back. If you’re truly ready to let her walk away when you return to England, make sure you protect your heart, and hers, until then.”
In the wake of that final piece of advice, Chris stumbled out into the humid night and found his way back to the shore boat still at the quay. The wind had died down after the rain, so they had to row hard out toHMS Thistleat anchor. He took his place at an oar alongside his shore crew, craving the physical labor to clear his confused brain. He needed to return to the only things he could rely on - his ship and his men.
Rachel fleddown the hallway toward her room, her face hot with shame. When she threw open the door, she wanted only to fling herself onto the top of the counterpane and cry. However, the scene that greeted her forestalled any self-indulgent moment she might have sought. Tenneh jumped up from the bed, terror on her face, while a figure dressed in the white trousers and shirt of a mission student escaped through the open window.
When Rachel collapsed onto her bed, the weight of the day closing in on her, Tenneh tried to comfort her with an awkward pat on her shoulder. That was the final blow. Instead of the long cry she’d promised herself, she turned to Tenneh and said, “We have to talk about what you’ve been doing. You can’t pretend to want to live here and earn your board while secretly seeing men in our room.”
Tenneh burst into tears and interrupted her. “I didn’t mean to…”
Rachel repeated her father’s words from minutes before in his study. “Words mean nothing. It’s what we do that counts.” She pulled a handkerchief from her reticule and gave it to Tenneh to wipe her eyes. “Crying does not help either. Tell me who that boy was who sneaked out our window.”
Tenneh wiped her eyes and handed the embroidered square back to Rachel. “He’s the one I met in the marketplace.”
“And you invited him here? How could you?”
“We…we want to be together.”
