“I thought the same.” Because she trusted him, marriage settlements really hadn’t seemed important. Though if they had children, it would matter then. The thought tingled all the way through her.
“At any rate, I can afford a modest country manor. It will be fun looking for one.” He grinned. “I can become a country squire. Do you think I could be a magistrate, or would the authorities shrink back in horror?”
“I think you’d make a good magistrate because you’re practical, not a rigid moralist,” she said thoughtfully. “Have you thought of standing for Parliament? You’d make a splendid MP since you’ve seen so much of the world.”
He gave a shout of laughter. “You think I could join the handful of other rebels in the House of Commons and drive the traditionalists mad? It could be amusing, but no sensible constituency would adopt me as a candidate.”
“Do you have any old school friends who control rotten boroughs?” she asked half seriously. “Maybe one of them would send you to Parliament if you’re interested.”
He hesitated. “It’s an interesting thought for the future, perhaps, though given my reformist tendencies, I want to eliminate rotten boroughs. It’s not right for powerful men to put their own MPs into Parliament. But it’s true that I no longer have much interest in doing dubious missions for people willing to pay me well for fixing their problems. My investments have been successful enough that I needn’t do that sort of work anymore.”
“Dubious missions like rescuing widows in war zones?” She smiled at him fondly. “I’m glad you didn’t give up that work sooner!”
He caught her hand and held it. “So am I. But one thing I must do is balance the scales with people I’ve wronged in the past. I told you about sharing a cellar with other condemned men and all of us drunkenly considering ways to redeem ourselves if we survived. It’s time to make amends.”
“Make peace with the past before moving into the future? That’s a fine idea.” She paused. “Does that include making peace with your father if he’s still alive?”
“No.” It was said without hesitation. “Maybe with some of my brothers, but when I was young, I did nothing to deserve my father’s ill treatment. My bad behavior was a result of his. There’s nothing to redeem. But there were people who deserved better from me. Schoolmates. A headmistress.” He studied her face. “What about you? Do you have any issues from the past you feel the need to address?”
“Apart from wringing the neck of the sister who betrayed our elopement to my father? I probably shouldn’t do that. Otherwise . . .” She sighed. “It’s been so many years. I have very few connections left.”
“Then we’ll just have to build newer, better connections.” He leaned over and kissed her. Knowing that one thing would lead to another, she rolled so that her breasts were pressed to his chest. If this was pillow talk, she liked it very well indeed.
* * *
Farewells the next morning were every bit as emotional and soggy as Gordon expected. He wasn’t overly concerned about female tears as long as he hadn’t caused them, and he didn’t blame Callie and her adopted family for feeling profoundly emotional. This was the end of a significant time in all their lives. No matter how bright everyone’s future looked, this ending was also a profound loss.
Hawkins and his crewman waited stoically in the dinghy. Gordon and Callie’s modest luggage had already been stowed aboard, and it was just a matter of waiting for Callie to be ready to leave.
Being a wise woman, she didn’t drag the farewells out for very long. More tears wouldn’t make the goodbyes less painful. He was glad when she wiped her eyes and said, “It’s time, Richard.”
“Yes. Just remember, we will return for a visit someday.” He did a swift round of handshakes with Josh and Trey and hugs with Sarah and Molly. Then he handed Callie down into the dinghy and Hawkins pushed the boat away from the pier.
After one last wave, Callie resolutely faced forward, perched beside Gordon on one of the bench seats. “In true female fashion,” she said wryly, “I’m now thinking that with a red nose and eyes, I must look dreadful.”
Gordon laughed. “You look adorable and about ten years old.”
“I’m not sure that’s an improvement on dreadful.” She took hold of his hand. “How long do you think before we might return? It’s such a long journey.”
“The day isn’t far off when steamships will be crossing the Atlantic,” he said. “They’ll be faster and safer than sailing ships.”
Hawkins snorted, not interrupting his smooth rowing. “Ugly and smelly. Beastly things, steamships.”
“I don’t entirely disagree with you,” Gordon admitted. “But having spent some time captaining a steamship, I think they are the way of the future.”
Callie stared at him. “You were captain of a steamship? When did that happen?”
“A year or two ago,” he replied. “I’m not a true blue water sailor like Hawkins here, but I know something of sailing and something about steam engines, so I helped out a friend who needed a captain while his steamship was doing trials in the Thames River.”
“I amdefinitelystarting a list of all the many things you’ve done!” she said. “I want to hear all about your steamship days while we’re sailing back to London. It will give us something to talk about.”
He gave her a lazy, suggestive smile. “I don’t think we’ll get bored.”
She returned a sultry, provocative smile that guaranteed there would be no boredom. And there wasn’t.
Chapter 34
The white cliffs of Dover, October 1814
