Oh, God, he didn’t even know she was gone. He probably assumed she was somewhere on theMaiden Anne, assumed she’d be there when he returned. After all, her belongings were still there, and among them the cherished ring her father had given her. She hadn’t known there would be no time to collect them, not that she cared about them at the moment. What was tearing her up inside was that she’d had no opportunity to say goodbye to James, to tell him…what? That she’d fallen in love with him.
She almost laughed. It was funny, it really was. Love thine enemy—but not literally. A hated Englishman, a despised, arrogant aristocrat, and he still got under her skin, still worked his way right into her heart. So stupid to let that happen, but so much worse if she’d actually told him. She’d asked him one night while his arms were around her and his heart beat steadily under her ear, if he were married.
“Good God, no!” he’d exclaimed in horror. “You won’t see me ever making that fool’s mistake.”
“And why not?” she’d wanted to know.
“Because all women become faithless jades as soon as they get that ring on their finger. No offense, love, but it’s bloody well true.”
His comment had reminded her so much of her brother Warren’s attitude about women that she mistakenly drew her own conclusion. “I’m sorry. I should have realized there had to have been a woman you loved at some point in your life who betrayed you. But you shouldn’t blame all women for the unfaithfulness of just one. My brother Warren does exactly that, but it’s wrong.”
“I hate to disappoint you, George, but there was never a great love in my life. I was speaking of the many women whose unfaithfulness I know of from firsthand experience since I happen to be the one they were unfaithful with. Marriage is for idiots who don’t know any better.”
But she’d already had a feeling his answer would be something in that vein to begin with. In that he was still so much like her brother Warren it was uncanny. But at least Warren had an excuse for swearing he’d never marry, for the abominable way he now treated women, using them without ever letting them get close to him. He’d been hurt really badly once by a woman he’d intended to marry. But James had no such excuse. He’d said so himself. He was simply what he’d told her he was, a reprehensible rake. He wasn’t even ashamed of it.
“Come now, lass, the lad’s nae really going tae beat ye,” Mac said, having come up beside her. “Ye’ve nae reason tae be crying. But best ye get yerself below like he said. Give Drew a chance tae calm down afore he sees ye again and has tae hear the worst of it.”
She glanced sideways as she swiped at her cheeks. “Worst of it?”
“That we had tae work fer our passage.”
“Oh, that,” she sniffed, thankful to have something else to think about, and that Mac assumed she was merely upset over Drew’s anger. She added with a sigh, “No, I don’t suppose his knowing that will go over very well just now. Is there any reason we have to tell him?”
“Ye’d lie tae yer own brother?”
“He’s threatened to beat me, Mac,” she reminded him with a measure of disgust. “And this is Drew,Drew, for God’s sake. I’d just as soon not find out his reaction if he learns I’ve slept in the same cabin with an Englishman for the last month.”
“Aye, I see what ye mean. Sae maybe a little lie wouldna hurt, or just the omission that we were robbed of our money. Ye’ve still the others tae be facing yet, after all, and their reactions will be even worse, I’m thinking.”
“Thanks, Mac. You’ve been the dearest—”
“Georgina!” Drew’s voice cut in with clear warning. “I’m taking off my belt.”
She swung around to see that he wasn’t doing any such thing, but her handsome brother looked as if he would if she didn’t disappear, and quick. Instead she closed the distance between them and glared up at the six-foot-four-inch tall captain of theTriton.
“You’re being an insensitive brute, Drew. Malcolm married another women, and all you can do is yell at me.” And she promptly burst into heartrending tears.
Mac snorted in disgust. He’d never seen a man so quickly disarmed of his anger as Drew Anderson just was.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Georgina had been feeling somewhat better, certainly much more optimistic about the rest of her brothers’ reactions after Drew proved to be so sympathetic to her heartache. Of course, Drew thought all her tears were over Malcolm. She saw no reason to tell him that she never even thought of Malcolm anymore, except when his name was mentioned. No, her thoughts and emotions were centered on another man, one whose name had never been spoken other than to explain he was the captain of the ship that brought her to Jamaica.
She felt bad about deceiving Drew. More than once she had thought about telling him the truth. But she didn’t want him to be angry with her again. His anger had really surprised her. This was her fun-loving brother, the one who teased her most, the one who could always be counted on to cheer her up. He’d managed to do that. He just didn’t know what was truly depressing her.
He would know eventually. They all would. But the worst news could wait awhile more, until the hurt had a chance to heal a little bit, until she found out how badly the rest of them were going to react to what she saw now as a minor thing, at least in comparison to what she would have to tell them in a month or two when they demanded to know whose baby was stretching her waistline. What was it James had said about his brother Jason? He frequently flew through the roof? Well, she’d have five brothers doing it.
She wasn’t sure yet how she felt about the consequence of her brief fall from grace. Scared, certainly. A little bewildered, a little—glad. She couldn’t deny it. It was going to cause all kinds of difficulty, not to mention scandal, but nevertheless, her feelings could be summed up in two words. James’s baby. What else could matter next to that? It was crazy. She should be devastated to think of bearing a child and raising it without a husband, but she wasn’t. She couldn’t have James, and no other man would do after him, but she could have his child,andkeep it, and that was exactly what she would do. She loved James too much not to.
The baby, and Georgina’s certainty that it was real and not just a possibility, accounted for her improved mood by the time theTritonsailed into Long Island Sound on the last leg of their journey home, three weeks after leaving Jamaica. And by the time Bridgeport was sighted and they’d turned into the Pequonnock River, which helped form a deep harbor for oceangoing vessels, she was excited to be home, especially at this time of year, her favorite, when the weather wasn’t too cold yet, and the sunset colors of autumn still lingered everywhere. At least she was excited until she saw just how many Skylark ships were in port, three in particular that she wished were anywhere else but here.
The ride to the red brick mansion that she called home on the outskirts of town was a quiet one. Drew sat next to her in the carriage, holding her hand, squeezing it occasionally for encouragement. He was firmly on her side now, but a lot of good that would do her when she faced the older brothers. Drew had never been able to hold his own against them anymore than she could, especially when they were united.
Her cabin boy’s clothes were gone. That outfit had been partly to blame for Drew’s towering anger, so at least that was one thing less the others could complain about. She’d scrounged clothes from Drew’s crew for the voyage, but right now she was wearing the lovely gown Drew had been bringing home to his Bridgeport sweetheart as a present. Likely he’d buy another here to take to his sweetheart in the next port.
“Smile, Georgie girl. It’s not the end of the world, you know.”
She glanced sideways at Drew. He was beginning to see some humor in her situation, which she didn’t appreciate the least bit. But a comment like that was so typical of him. He was so different from her other brothers. He was the only one in the family with eyes so dark they couldn’t be called anything but black. He was also the only one who could be knocked down and come up laughing, which had happened numerous times when he’d rubbed Warren or Boyd the wrong way. And yet he looked so much like Warren it was uncanny.
