Page 19 of A Lady's Wager
“I cannot say I mind.” Had he called her that before? In his mind or to Richard?
His shoulder rested against hers. “If that is the case, do I have your permission to use it more often?”
“So long as Grandfather doesn’t hear you.” At least until he could be certain of a lasting relationship. She’d talked of marriage with Grandfather so many times in regard to various men. The idea seemed so foreign and yet so agreeable when applied to Lieutenant Owens.
“I suppose I can remember that,” he said. He shifted until he sat snuggly against her and she couldn’t help but take his arm. How she loved the feel of him beside her, the steadiness and calm he brought. Perhaps, with him at her side, she could face the world beyond Bristol. That was a new sentiment. She’d neverwanted to leave since arriving seven years ago. Well, she still didn’t want to, but the possibility did not seem as bleak as it once had.
She caught him staring at her. “Should you not be watching the road?”
“Quite right.” His face snapped forward. “What a bother.” He sighed. “I suppose I must console myself that I have achieved what half the gentlemen in the city have desired the last three years. Even if I cannot enjoy the view.”
She tugged on his arm. “And what is that?”
His eyes twinkled. “A few hours practically alone with the loveliest woman in Bristol.”
“I should have guessed your teasing would come with shameless flattery.” But she could not help a grin.
“The troubling thing is I have that greasy old hog Haltwhistle to thank for our introduction.”
Corah burst out laughing. The man’s bulging, rage-filled eyes at Lieutenant Owens’s interference would not be a sight soon forgotten. Well, Derrick’s interference. If he wished to use her Christian name, surely she could use his. That would take some getting used to. He’d always been Lieutenant Owens in her mind.
James’s head popped between theirs as he leaned over the back of their seat. “Who is a greasy old hog?”
“No one,” she said. “Sit down so you don’t fall.”
Her brother grumbled about people not telling him anything and gave them a suspicious glare. That boy. She glanced at her hand holding firmly to the lieutenant’s arm. James was certain to see or hear something that stuck in his mind on this outing. And she found that deep down, she had no desire to hide her interest. All of Bristol might suspect within the week if James opened his mouth. She squeezed Derrick’s arm. Heaven help them.
The River Avon ran grey under the cloudy sky as they picked their way along its banks. Across the river, sheep grazed lazily in the downs, their coats thick and fluffy. The jagged cliff walls rose above them, providing shelter from the breeze that had hit them on the drive to the gorge. Derrick hadn’t minded it, as the wind made Corah nestle closer against him.
“Be careful on the rocks, James,” she said. The boy scrambled along the rough shore, hopping from boulders without a care while his sister stepped carefully, her redingote skirt gathered in one hand. A little ridge of rock jutted up in front of her, and she sighed as she started to climb up it.
Derrick hadn’t realized she’d fallen behind. He trotted back and offered her his hand, which she took readily.
“You enjoy this too much,” she said coyly.
“Of course I do.” He didn’t release her hand when she’d crossed the ridge, and she didn’t pull away. Perhaps he should have been more careful, as the gorge was a popular place for gentry families visiting the area, but who knew how many more of these opportunities he’d have?
They walked along without conversation for a time, laughing at James’s shouts that he had found a diamond, rapidly followed by shouts that he had changed his mind. How comfortable it felt being with her. How natural. She didn’t mind telling him her thoughts or letting him see her emotions. Richard Bradford had mentioned several times his sister’s ecstatic reaction when he arrived home after years at sea. What would it be like to have her welcome Derrick back from his voyages? He couldn’t imagine a more wonderful sight.
On the river, a vessel—a pink, it seemed by the hull and rigging—sailed slowly toward the city, all sails unfurled to catchas much breeze as possible. A command, muffled by distance, echoed over the water. Little figures on the upper deck moved about in response.
“Does seeing ships make you miss your life at sea?” Corah asked.
It had. Before coming to Bristol. “That’s the curse of the sailor. When you’re at sea, all you can think about is coming back to land, and when you’re on land, you want nothing more than to be at sea.”
“What of your families? You don’t wish to stay with them?”
Clearly, that wasn’t the question she really wished to ask. What she wanted to know was if he desired to stay with her. His mouth went dry. How should he answer? He wanted to stay with her more than he could say. What good would that do either of them when he couldn’t stay?
“Of course we do, but the sea is our livelihood,” he said. “It’s all we know. It’s our home.” The words came out tense, awkward. He didn’t want to say them.
“Which is why it is so easy to leave.” Her hand went loose in his, but he didn’t let her go.
He stopped walking, pulling her to face him. “It’s not easy for every man to leave. Especially when…” Dared he broach that subject? The gold in her hazel eyes shimmered in the uncertain light peeking through the clouds. He caught the long curl trailing down her back and brought it around to rest over her shoulder. Its rich brown stood out against the pale blue of her redingote. He’d always remember her like this, with her hair simple and unpowdered, clothing plain, and face full of longing. “Especially when he leaves someone dear to him.”
“Are you one of those men?” she whispered.
He never imagined he would be, and yet here he was caught between the life he’d always lived and the future he wanted so desperately. Without thinking, he slid his hand about her waistand pulled her against him. She gave a little gasp, curling her fingers around the edges of his coat. Pulse racing, he pressed the side of his face to hers, drinking in the bright citrus of her perfume. He brushed his lips against her soft cheek and her grip on his coat tightened.
