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Authors: Constance Hussey

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“This
is a problem, sir. I feel the children will have enough difficulties adapting
to a new country without being the subject of negative attention.” She drew her
brows together and laced her fingers under her chin. “You need a governess who
will agree to travel to England.”

“I had thought of that but
it also presents a problem. An unmarried woman will also be at risk for her
reputation, however unfounded the rumours.” Blackwell’s words flowed as he
prayed the gods would continue to favour him. “The voyage to England will be
aboard a working vessel, with no other passengers.”

“Uumm, yes, I see that,” she
murmured.

Blackwell went on as if she
had not spoken. “What I need… is a wife. I am asking you to marry me, Miss
McKenzie.”

Her hands dropped to her lap
and she blinked owlishly at him. “W...what? Surely you cannot be serious! We
scarcely know one another.”

He put one hand on hers. Her
skin was warm, the fine bones as delicate as a bird’s. The sudden desire to
protect her was unwelcome and hastily suppressed. Choosing his words with care,
he continued. “Think about it before you answer. I know enough of you to
understand you are a moral young woman who cares about others. You love those
children and would be a good mother to them. With a wife at my side, I will be
in a better position to make Danielle and Guy my wards.” He let the
ramifications of his comment sink in before he pushed on.

“No, you do not know me well
and I realize I am not an easy man, but I am able to comfortably provide for a
family.”

Anne appeared to be shocked
speechless, but Blackwell felt her level of dismay was tempered by the fact
that she was at least
listening.
Encouraged, he added gently, “I also
know you are in some kind of trouble.” He raised a hand to prevent her denial.
“Mr. Fenton implied it, without going into any detail, and I guessed as much
from your irregular position here.”

She stared at his hand on
hers, and then slowly shook her head, a puzzled look in her eyes. “Surely you
can find someone to act as chaperone. A couple, perhaps. This seems a great
sacrifice on your part, Mr. Blackwell, and radical in the extreme.”

He removed his hand and
stood. “Not a sacrifice. My daughter needs a mother, Miss McKenzie. She was
crippled in an accident some years ago. I’ve tried to be both mother and father
to her, but she is growing up and I cannot give her the same kind of guidance a
woman can.” His voice was harsh. He heard it, but the effort to even say the
words precluded any attempt at moderation. Unsettled, he moved away and began
to pace.

“Sarah needs a mother, but
you do not need, or want, a wife, in the true sense of the word. Is that
correct?”

The quiet question brought
him to a halt. She was quick of mind, too astute, and he prepared himself for
disappointment. “That is correct.”

A soft gasp behind him,
followed by the sound of her skirts rustling as she stood and took several
steps toward him. “Do you insist on an immediate answer?”

He turned to face her. She
appeared calm, her face devoid of expression, until he looked into her eyes.
Questions? Speculation? Fear? He was not sure what he read there, and she
lowered her eyelids before he could decide.

“No, certainly not, but
delaying departure overly long would not be wise.”

She glanced at him and
voiced her agreement. “Very well. If you will return here after you take the
children to your friend’s home, I will have an answer for you. Now, if you will
excuse me.”

No wait for his answer this time.
She entered the house before he could think of anything to say. At least she
had not outright refused. Hope lingered yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

So shaken that her legs
threatened to give way, Anne fled to the sanctuary of her bedchamber, collapsed
on the bed and buried her face in her hands. A mad start, if ever she’d heard
one. Marry a man she met two days ago, one she knew almost nothing about, and
take on the role of mother to three children?
Your troubles would be over if
you were a married woman. Someone to protect you and pay your passage to
England.

No! That could not be a
consideration, no matter how tempting. Better to concentrate on what it would
mean to enter into a marriage of convenience, for Blackwell had made it very
clear that was what he offered.

She could have a home and
family; children to nurture, but without the physical warmth normally shared by
husband and wife.
Can you do that, Anne? The children, yes
.
She
already was more than fond of Danielle and Guy and had ample room in her heart
for Sarah. But the intimacy she had dreamed of was hard to give up. She wanted
it, wanted to feel a man’s touch, his kiss. Not the brutal embrace of the
Major, but a loving affection.

“Ohhhh.” Anne fell back onto
the bed, fear and uncertainty twisting through her, and stared at the cracked
ceiling.
Face it, Anne. You are twenty-three years old, have limited social
skills and few contacts, and no beauty or fortune
.
Is living in a
cottage with the Fentons how you want to spend the rest of your life? 
The picture
did not appeal, no more than did a loveless marriage. Neither promised
happiness, but not much of life did so. Marriage at least offered a chance for
a man’s companionship and respect. Was that such a small thing?

Anne rolled over, sat up,
and wrapped her arms around her knees, a hundred thoughts tumbling through her
head. Had she the courage to do this? Her life would be forever changed, and
whether for the better, who could say? A chill prickled over her skin, and she
hastily rose, stretched stiffened limbs and trudged to the washstand to stare
at her unappealing reflection.
You look a fright
, she thought crossly
before tidying her hair and splashing water on her flushed face and reddened
eyes.

“If you think to hide the
fact that you are overset to the point of tears, think again. I knew no good
was to come of this,” Maggie said sharply from the doorway. She marched in and
confronted Anne, arms akimbo. “Now that man has you so wound up you run off
without so much as a by-your-leave, just when those children are already scared
at being sent off with a stranger.”

Anne moaned and pressed her
fingers against her cheeks, wracked with guilt. “Oh, how
could
I have
been so thoughtless? Were they terribly upset? Perhaps I….”

In the face of Anne’s
obvious distress, Maggie’s expression softened. “They were well enough,” she
said grudgingly. “Mr. Fenton went with them so they could take Bonnie and then
he will bring her back here.” Her lips tightened into a thin line and she
jerked her head toward the bed. “Sit. You’ll be telling me what is going on,
and I’ll be off my feet while you are doing it.” Maggie planted herself in the
single chair and looked pointedly at Anne.

Anne’s chest swelled, and
she blew out a gusty breath as she sank onto the side of the bed. “Mr.
Blackwell has asked that I marry him.”

The flabbergasted expression
on Maggie’s face was everything Anne could have wished, had she set out to
rattle the unflappable Maggie, which she had not, but she was not above a
fleeting enjoyment of the moment.

“Marry you. A woman he’s
known for two days? The man must have windmills in his head.” Maggie fisted her
hands on her hips and leaned forward, her expression turning from amazed to
sour. “I don’t often misjudge a person, but it looks like I erred with this fellow.
I’d not have suspected him as being nonsensical. As if you would entertain such
an idea!”

Anne pinched her lips
together and returned Maggie’s glare with one of her own. “Why shouldn’t I
entertain the idea?”
For all the reasons you just spent the past half-hour
brooding about, Anne, so why the absurd feeling of unworthiness because Maggie
thinks as you do?

“You know nothing about the
man, Miss Anne! We’ve
his
say-so that he is a widower and has a child,
but if that is the case, I daresay he has any number of women clamoring after
him. Why
you
, and why now?”

“Why not me? I’m not such an
antidote as all that.” Anne jumped up and took a swift turn around the room,
her clenched fists tapping together in front of her as she paced. “Besides,
it’s the children who concern him; Danielle in particular. He feels it unwise
to take her to England un-chaperoned, alone with him, on a ship full of rough
sailors. She is just old enough that people might gossip. It will be difficult
enough for her to become established in a strange country without adding a
tarnished reputation.”

“You are far from being an
antidote, but that’s neither here nor there since I don’t believe for a minute
your appearance enters into it. And I can think of other ways to get around the
chaperone problem.” Maggie’s eyes narrowed with evident suspicion and she held
up a hand, palm out. “What does he really want?”

Anne halted, head bowed, her
gaze fastened on the floor as if an answer was written on the rough tile. “A
mother—for his daughter, and Guy and Danielle, who he plans to make his wards,”
she muttered after a long pause.

The silence stretched
uncomfortably, until Anne raised her head to stare at Maggie with a mute plea
for understanding. Anne wanted to cry out her desires—for a home of her own, a
family, an end to loneliness, and yes, to fear. But she swallowed the words.
Never would she allow the Fenton’s to believe the love and care they had given
her was wanting.
You cannot do that, Anne, and besides, until now, it was
enough.
But no longer—she wanted more, and if she could not explain her
feelings to herself, how could she expect Maggie to understand?

Maggie studied Anne’s face,
then pushed up from the chair and walked across to where Anne stood. “A mother.
That is all he wants?”

Maggie’s voice was so
unexpectedly gentle that Anne’s eyes filled and she turned her head to avoid
the woman’s look of compassion, suspecting that Maggie was more aware of Anne’s
feelings than she’d imagined.

Stifling a surge of
self-pity, Anne managed a wan smile. “Yes. A marriage in name only. He wants a
mother for his daughter, Danielle and Guy, and in return, offers the protection
of his name, a home I am free to make my own, and a ready-made family.”

“I see. And you would settle
for this? A loveless marriage mothering someone else’s children? Why, Anne? You
can do better; find someone who will love you, cherish you for yourself. Not
use you to fill the position of nursemaid and housekeeper.”

“Can I? Can I really?” Anne
swirled away from her, fists clenched at her sides. “I am twenty-three years
old, Maggie, with barely enough funds to keep us. That is assuming I will ever
get access to them! I am in no position to meet someone suitable. I have a
maniacal man hunting me relentlessly and the single avenue open to me is
teaching music—to
other people’s children
.”

Maggie dismissed Anne’s
outburst with a flick of her hand and an angry scowl. “Not one of those things
is insurmountable. Difficult, but I’ve seen you overcome worse.” Her voice
hardened. “Marriage is forever. You truly want to spend the rest of your life
in a cold, lonely bed?” She took a step forward, then seemingly struck by a
sudden thought, paused and narrowed her eyes. “Or is that part of it, Anne? You
are afraid of intimacy because of what happened with the Major? If so, then a
nice, safe platonic marriage would certainly be to your advantage.”

Anne felt the quick familiar
turn in her stomach that any thought of the Major brought, but she squared her
shoulders and met Maggie’s stare without faltering. “He did not rape me,
Maggie. You know that better than anyone.”

“He came close enough to
make any woman leery of men, not to mention a frightened, grieving girl.”

“I am not afraid of Mr.
Blackwell.” Anne said it quietly, but with utter conviction. She had nothing to
fear from this often unlikeable and sometimes disagreeable stranger, a
knowledge she could neither explain nor even understand.

Silent for a long moment,
Maggie’s eyes searched Anne’s face, and then she took Anne’s hands in hers.
“You plan to accept his offer, don’t you?” It was more statement than question.

Anne clung fiercely to her
friend’s hands for a minute, her whispered, “yes” barely audible “I’ll make it
enough, Maggie. Guy and Danielle need me, and if that is all I have, I will be
content.”

Maggie stepped back and
walked to the door. “I hope so, child, I hope so.”

Drained and more frightened
of the future than ever in her life, Anne sagged against the wall and closed
her eyes.
You can do this, Anne, and if the unwelcome attraction you felt
towards Nicholas Blackwell from the moment you met is to forever be buried deep
inside, so be it.

~* * *~

Refreshed by the short rest
that had followed the painful conversation with Maggie, her hair tidied and
gown changed, Anne waited impatiently for Nicholas to return. She had thought
of him as Nicholas almost from the first and saw no reason now to fight against
the informality. Telling Bill of her intention had not been as difficult as
expected, which she felt was due more to Maggie than any argument of Anne’s.
While obviously not pleased, he had agreed to support her. At least partly, she
suspected, because he viewed getting to England as the major and most important
issue right now. Maggie, bless her, had refrained from any further comment at
all and Anne sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for being blessed with the
love and friendship of these dear people.

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