“If I were, would I worry about your safety?”
“Perhaps you’re confirming I’m unprotected.”
“All the more reason for you to need a chaperone.” Ben took a step closer, moving to keep the sun’s glare from blinding her, but she misunderstood his action. Her eyes widened, and a knife appeared in her hand. She pressed it against his ribs. He looked down in shock.
“Underestimate me once, and you live to tell the tale. Underestimate me again, and you will wish you’d learned your lesson the first time.” Jemma pulled the knife back and slipped it somewhere beneath the shawl.
“I didn’t expect that.”
“I know.”
“Ben, we must go.” Steven walked up to the pair and swept his gaze over Jemma. Appreciation shone in his eyes before he turned away. At seven years Ben’s senior, the girl was too young for Steven’s consideration.
“It was nice meeting you, Ben.” Jemma smiled before turning back toward the village.
“And nice to meet you too, Lady Jemma.” She glanced back at Ben, her enigmatic smile warming his belly. Once she was out of earshot, his father had far more to say.
“Stay away from her, lad.”
“Why? Is it because she’s—foreign?” Ben didn’t want to imagine her skin mattered to his father. The man dealt with traders from all over Europe and the Mediterranean who sold brandy, lace, tea, and silk to smugglers like the Pedricks and the residents of both Lantic Bay and Bedruthan Steps.
“Her mother’s their sort of princess. Lady Vinita’s father was a maharaja. She’s well above our station.”
“But her father is a baronet like you.”
“True, but I don’t know that her family would let two generations of women marry down. Her uncle is the new Earl of Devon. Besides, she’s only six-and-ten. She’s far too young.” Charles clapped his hand on his son’s shoulder and steered himtoward the small pasture where their sheep grazed. He would conclude his business with the young woman’s father in the local tavern. Then Charles, Steven, and Ben would once more return to the road with their flock. They would appear like a drover and his sons, and no one would be the wiser that several crates of tea hid beneath the cart’s hay.
Ben followed Charles and Steven, but his eyes were riveted to Jemma as she made her way to Caramel and Sons Confectionary. He was certain she was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.
Chapter One
1815LANTIC BAY, CORNWALL
The hair on the back of Ben’s neck rose as he watched partners step lively during a reel at the Lantic Bay Christmas assembly. It was the same sensation he had for the past seven years anytime she was near. He shifted to see Jemma enter the gathering with her mother, father, and two younger brothers. The young men already looked bored, and Ben suspected they would soon slip outside with others their age and braze the frigid air to imbibe. Jemma glanced in his direction, then studiously turned away. It had been the same ever since their second encounter.
They’d seen each other a month after they met along the coast, at an event like the one they now attended. Ben had taken his father’s words to heart and intended to keep his distance. Jemma attempted to make her way toward him when their gazes met, but Ben sought another dance partner when Jemma stood only a few feet from him. He’d given her the cut direct, and she hadn’t forgiven him since. It likely didn’t help that he neverexplained, despite having many chances. He’d embarrassed himself; then too much time went by not to look like a cad.
They encountered one another at least once every three or four months when Ben made deliveries or picked up recently arrived goods. They were polite when forced to interact, but Jemma gave him a wide berth. Her coldness had done little to dissuade his interest. He’d watched her with the Lantic Bay and Polruan village children, often telling stories about her childhood in India. He saw her offering charity to those who struggled when the villages’ smuggling slowed. He’d heard her sing during Sunday morning chapel. He’d observed her with her family, how she doted on each member.
Watching the Rowes reminded him of his own family. He was the second youngest of six. Steven was the oldest, then he had three older sisters, and one younger sister. It was that youngest sister, Charlie, who was in attendance with her husband and nieces, during one of their regular visits from Exminster. Charlotte de Redvers, now the Countess of Devon by marriage, was expecting their first child, her rounded belly slightly visible beneath her gown.
His sister had ventured to London to become a governess since she lacked a healthy dowry with three older sisters ahead of her. It had been happenstance that she should meet her husband, Rajesh, at the home of a former employer then wind up applying to be the Earl of Devon’s governess for his two nieces. The man was a second son of a second son who’d not only inherited an earldom from his deceased brother but the man’s two young daughters when both the Earl’s brother and sister-in-law passed away from suspicious circumstances.
“Your eyes shall fall out of your head one of these days for how hard you stare,” Charlie whispered as she rocked her niece through marriage, a slumbering one-year-old Anjali. “Talk to her. It’s been seven years by my count. It’s not a grudge sheholds. She thinks you rejected her for a reason I’m certain you didn’t.”
Ben looked at his sister, who wore a gown that flattered her coloring. They shared the same shade of red hair and pale green eyes. The gown was an empire waist like that worn by most women, but she draped over her shoulder what he’d learned was called anodhni,the long piece of fabric that served much like a shawl. It was what he’d seen Jemma wear the day they met. It was the elaborate stitching that truly set his sister’s gown apart. It was reminiscent of India, an acknowledgment of the heritage into which she married.
Rajesh de Redvers had grown up in India, much like Jemma. He’d traveled on his Grand Tour throughout Europe, but he’d always planned to return and remain in India. However, his family was summoned home when Rajesh’s uncle passed away, and his grandfather unexpectedly inherited the earldom. He’d begrudgingly moved to England with his family, but he’d never intended to make it his home. He’d resented his grandfather denouncing Rajesh’s mother as being an unworthy bride, especially after her death during their voyage from India to England. He’d wanted no part of his English family’s life, but now that he’d married Charlie and started a family with his wife, nieces, and a baby on the way, Ben knew Rajesh felt like he was where he belonged.
“She’s thought all these years I rejected her because she’s Indian?”
“What else was she supposed to think? From what you told me, you flirted with her. Then the first chance you had to talk to her again, even dance with her, you chose a fair-haired, fair-skinned English woman. You made no attempt to talk to her after that. But you watch her like a hawk. She probably thinks your intentions are not appropriate for a maiden or a lady.”
“She would really think so poorly of me? Or is that merely what you assume?”
“Perhaps I’ve dug a little.” Charlie turned toward her husband, Rajesh, as he came to stand beside her. Ben and Rajesh greeted one another before Ben forced himself not to look for Jemma again. The crowded assembly room veritably overflowed with people celebrating the approaching end of Advent and the beginning of the Christmas season, the holiday only two weeks away. Evergreen bows and holly decorated nearly every surface that didn’t move. The scents of his favorite holiday foods would normally make his stomach rumble, but there were too many people with their overheated odors mixed with the foods’ aromas. It nearly overpowered him.
“Still pretending?” Rajesh murmured.
