Page 66 of The Pirate Takes A Bride

Four words, all words he could pronounce. All words he had used before, though not in that order. Had he ever confessed love to any man or woman? He’d loved his father, and he’d died. He’d loved Ralph, who’d been the best friend he’d ever had. Ralph had died, and it was all Nick’s fault. He loved his ship, and where was it now? Sailing without him, under the command of a new captain. Chante would treat her well, but it didn’t change the fact Nick had lost her. But more than any of those he’d loved his mother. As a child, she’d been everything to him, his entire world.

And he’d lost her. She’d been there one moment and brutally ripped away the next. He could not survive if he lost anyone he loved that much again. He would not survive. He already had one weakness—Rissa.

He loved his little girl, more than life itself. She’d almost died. If he’d found her lifeless body rotting on Isla de las Riquezas Nick did not think he could have gone on. Didn’t Ashley understand that he couldn’t love her? He was already too vulnerable. He had already taken a chance by loving Rissa. If he loved Ashley too and lost her....

He did not want to think of it. Of course, she didn’t understand. She had so much love—for her mother, her father, her brothers. She had a family. She had cousins and friends she loved. She wasn’t like him. She smiled and laughed because she was carefree and happy. He smiled and laughed to cover the pain.

He couldn’t love Ashley. He couldn’t risk his heart like that. She was his wife, and couples married all the time for duty or financial security. Marriage had nothing to do with love. When they returned to London, she’d come to see that. Her family and friends would tell her to stop all the foolish talk of love.

And then she’d be his again.

OF COURSE, THE PATH to London was long—three weeks on a sailing vessel, and Ashley said barely a dozen words to him. By the end of the voyage, Nick was convinced she did hate him. He’d slept in a hammock with the crew, giving Ashley and Rissa the cabin reserved for passengers. Nick might have thought Ashley had lost her voice except that he heard her speak to Rissa. She was kind to his daughter, and for that he was thankful. She wasn’t spiteful enough to take her anger at him out on the child.

But Rissa knew something was wrong. When she asked him, he pretended all was well and assumed Ashley did the same. But the child was not fooled, and he caught her studying both of them when the three of them were together.

Finally, they arrived at Dover, and Nick hired a private coach to take them over land until they reached the Thames. There he hired a packet ship to transport them along the Thames and into London. He sent word ahead, ensuring his servants would clean his flat and prepare it for his new wife and child. He’d instructed them to keep his arrival a secret. The last thing he needed was half of London descending on him. Of course, he’d have to rent a town house now. He couldn’t expect Ashley and Rissa to live in bachelor quarters on St. James’ Street. Perhaps the three of them could move in with Jack for a few weeks.

Finally, they sailed into London, and Rissa’s jaw dropped as she studied the busy harbor, which resembled nothing so much as a forest of masts. The city still stank, the skies were hazy with smoke from burning coal, and the weather was damp and cold, but it was home. He found himself smiling, unaccountably glad to be home. Not for a few weeks. For good.

“You live here?” Rissa asked, her voice filled with awe.

“And now so do you,” he told her. “I’ll take you to my home, but we’ll have to find a bigger one soon, a proper town house.”

Ashley had been standing on the deck near them, her hands clenched on the ship’s rails as she took in London. Now she turned and leveled a look at him. “Do not look for a town house on my account. I’ll be returning to my parents’ home.”

“No, you won’t,” Nick said, but she’d turned back to the rail. He looked down at Rissa, who did not seem surprised.

“She said she would come and visit me and take me for walks in the park.”

Ashley looked back at them. “And I will. All of the time. I’ll even help Lord Nicholas find you a wonderful nanny, but I won’t be living with you.”

“We’ll see,” Nick said.

Ashley merely raised a brow and gave him her back. He understood the implied message. She did not have to live under his roof if she did not so desire. Now they were back in London, he could not force her. But he’d be damned if he would give her up that easily.

True to her word, Ashley left Rissa and Nick at the busy wharf. He put her in a hackney and watched her being driven away. His brother Jack would have smacked him on the head and told him to fight for her, but how was Nick supposed to fight when he didn’t have the ammunition she wanted? Not to mention, he had a small child to see to first.

It was almost a fortnight before he saw her again. She’d sent him several applicants for the position of nanny, and all of them had been so sweet and lovely, he’d hired three. And Ashley had been to see Rissa, always when he was away. He’d intended to settle this thing with his wife in a day or two at most, but one day dragged into a three, and another day dragged into a week. It wasn’t that he was afraid to confront her. It was...very well. He was afraid to confront her. He only had experience making women leave. How did one make them stay?

He knew he could be charming, but Ashley seemed increasingly immune to those charms. What if she would take nothing less than a declaration of love? The very thought made his chest constrict and his palms dampen. He didn’t react so when a first-rate ship-of-the-line bore down on him. Why was he so reluctant to confront a mere woman? But he did have hope. He’d waited for word of her arrival to appear in the papers. He looked for her declaration that she wanted nothing to do with him, to accuse him of God knew what. But none came.

She was hiding. Just as he was. Perhaps he still had a chance to win her over.

Finally, after he’d acquired a new town house, moved Rissa and his staff, arranged for a ship to return to Isla de las Riquezas to bring anyone who wanted to leave to safety in England, answered all of his correspondence, alphabetized every book in his library, and Rissa napped under the watchful eyes of her nannies, Nick set out for Curzon Street and the Brittany home.

He’d never been to the town house before, but when he exited his carriage, he was relieved to see it looked much as any other in London. It was a white terraced house with flowers in the box, a black door, and drapes drawn along the front windows. Perhaps all the stories he’d heard of her wild brothers were simply that—stories. Besides they’d certainly be away at school, wouldn’t they? At least some of them. He could only hope the oldest, Thomas, was away. Nick had no desire to fight him again.

Nick stepped from his carriage, adjusted his beaver hat, and started up the walk. He’d told his valet to outfit him like Brummel today, and his valet had almost fainted with excitement. The poor man so rarely had any occupation other than cleaning dirt or blood from Nick’s shirts. Nick knew he looked well as he started up the walk. His breeches were buff, his coat dark blue and brushed to perfection. His shirt was starched within an inch of his life, and he dared not look down for fear of wrinkling his perfect cravat. At the plain, unassuming black door, he knocked, removed his hat, and tucked it under his arm.

The door opened to a perfectly ordinary looking butler. The man was tall and thin with a balding pate and a few strings of hair combed over it. “May I help you?” he asked in that tried-and-true butler tone.

“Yes,” Nick said, giving him a disarming grin. “I’m here to see my wife.”

The butler merely blinked, not looking even the least bit amused. “And would that be Lady Brittany or Miss Brittany?”

“Miss Brittany—rather, Lady Nicholas, of course.” Had she not even told her family she was married? What did they think she’d been up to for the past several months? He handed the man his card—one he’d unearthed in his library desk—and the butler looked at it and nodded.

“Come in.” The butler ushered him inside a small, dark vestibule. The house was quiet but for the ticking of a clock on the wall. What had he been concerned about? This was a house like any other. Her wild brothers were probably not even at home. “Wait in the drawing room, if you will, and I will see if she is at home.”

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