Captain's Surrender by Beecroft Alex

Author:Beecroft, Alex [Beecroft, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781605047621
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2009-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Next week saw Adam and Emily meet in the marketplace in King’s Square. She had a jaunty little hat of lace on top of her carefully dressed blond hair, and it threw a pattern of shadowed flowers onto her face. There was one right in the center of her full lower lip in particular that seemed to taunt him. His eyes refused to settle elsewhere, and if he managed to wrench them away, they would stray to the gauzy fichu that protected her milk-white breasts from the sun. And that led to thoughts more appropriate for private darkness than for conversation with a delicate young lady. He could not help feeling that he must shock and unsettle her.

She concealed it well, however, if it was so, set her parasol on her shoulder and strolled down the stalls of produce with a radiant smile, Bess following behind with a basket and a disapproving look.

“May I talk to you alone, Miss Jones?” he asked, fingering the rabbit’s foot in his pocket which had so far brought him such singular bad luck, but which was all he had to cling to in this moment of decision.

Her smile edged with curiosity, she said, “Bess, go and buy me a shilling’s worth of those beautiful oranges, will you? Oh, and tell One-Eyed Sam I’ll be down in a moment to pay for the lobsters.”

Such a capable young woman. He had admired her bravery on board ship, after the battle, but he admired too how easily she had adapted to this strange country, and her calm and businesslike dealings with creditors, suitors and her foster mother—still prostrated by the heat and unable to rise from her bed. Emily was not a romantic girl, who might be swept away by emotion, and though he had the highest opinion of her because of that, this was a moment when he felt he might prefer it were so.

Walking past the pillory, without paying any attention to the poor wretch who stood there, covered in refuse and bruises, he paused in front of the town hall and looked up as if to admire the architecture. When she came to his side, still with shadow roses on her lips, his nerve almost failed. What he meant to suggest was foolish in the extreme, and might well be interpreted as immoral, but at present he could see no other way forward.

“Miss Jones,” he said solemnly, looking from the dazzling white walls to her more dazzling face. “Will you marry me?”

A glow began in her blue eyes that made them rival the tropical sky for intensity, and she leaned forward, placing her hand on his wrist. Not on the cuff, but on the skin. There was a little shock of connection and he felt enlarged, powerful, exhilarated—ready to be swept away by joy. But what she said was, “Something has changed? That’s wonderful! What has happened to make you ready to dare this step?”

Her faith was like a slap in the face, and he thought resentfully that he had not said that.

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