The Heiress at Sea by Christi Caldwell

Author:Christi Caldwell [Caldwell, Christi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2023-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

What is it you want to do?

No one had ever asked that question of her.

No one had because it had always been expected what her future would be: she would be the wife of some perfectly acceptable, affable nobleman . . . which meant she would be an arm ornament . . . and . . . not much more.

Whereas her sister had been sent away to Mrs. Belden’s Finishing School and lived outside of the same walls they’d always known and learned what it was to survive on one’s own.

But Cassia had learned, in this moment with this man beside her, that she didn’t want to just survive. “I want to live,” she whispered, staring at the table covered with Nathan’s colorful maps. “But . . . I don’t even know what that means,” she said, and then as the realization hit her, all those truths came rapidly tumbling out, spilling from her lips. “I want to know what it is to do something more than curtsy or work at needlepoint. I hate needlepoint.” But she’d learned it and perfected it. “I want to know how people outside of London and Scotland live. What foods they eat and how they dress, and feel the sun on my face, because the sun . . . it is a rarity in London, you know,” she said needlessly. Of course, everyone knew rain and clouds and fog competed for the greatest time spent in the English sky.

The energy drained from her. “But . . . the problem is . . . I can’t. Because the extent of the skills and lessons imparted me over the years were those reserved for a lady. Because it was always accepted that I’d never leave and never be anything more than . . . than . . . some good-enough gentleman’s wife.”

“Don’t you dare settle,” Nathan said sharply, and she blinked slowly and looked up. “Don’t you dare settle for some good-enough gentleman. Find a damned fellow who treats you like you are the sun the English sky needs, and treasures you for that light.”

Cassia’s breath caught, as in that moment she fell, hard and fast and forever, in love with Nathan Ellsby, the Marquess of Winfield. This gruff, rough, and altogether tough ship’s captain who cursed and grunted, and who was very real for those emotions.

As if on cue, he grunted, then plucked the brush from her fingers and resumed brushing the back of her head, those almost dry locks that she’d been unable to reach.

“Do you think we’ll meet across a London ballroom?” she asked softly, and he paused a moment.

“I . . .”

“We’ll, of course, pretend we do not know one another.” A sad smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “It’ll be a secret only known by you and me.” And she’d mourn that until she drew her last breath. “One that my husband, of course, cannot know.”

He growled. “Don’t marry a man who’d find fault with you for how you lived your life before him.

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