Petals on the River (91 page)

upstart who had thought himself good enough to court their daughter, he

had to wonder if he was being too biased and harshminded when it came to

the cabinetmaker.
 
Over the years, he had won a place for himself in the

hearts of Camille's family, and they were now among the first to declare

that he was a member of their family.
 
Would the day ever come when he,

too, could esteem his new son-inlaw?

The question of Gage's involvement in the death of his first wife,

however, remained his primary concern.
 
It was a matter that had to be

reckoned with or it would remain a sharp wedge between them, dividing

one from the other.
 
Shemus knew in his heart that he'd have to be

totally convinced of Gage's innocence before he could ever feel

comfortable about Shemaine' s marriage, no matter how industrious the

colonial was.
 
Yet when questions still persisted in the hamlet after

the passage of more than a year, Shemus seriously doubted the

probability of such an occurrence.
 
And even if he had to drag Shemaine

aboard a ship bound for England, Shemus knew he would never leave his

daughter in the care of a suspected murderer.

Throughout the tour of the ship, Maurice du Mercer had maintained a

phlegmatic silence.
 
He still felt a fierce enmity against the man who

had stolen his betrothed, and he'd have choked before disclosing the

tiniest bit of interest or admiration for his rival' s achievements.
 
It

could not be said, however, that he wasn't impressed, despite the ill

will he bore the man.
 
He had no doubt that Gage Thornton had a good eye

for quality and beauty.
 
Shemaine was certainly proof of that.
 
Still,

had he been able to dictate circumstances in his favor, Maurice could

have easily wished the colonial had gone blind before laying eyes on the

dazzling beauty to whom he had offered his own heart.

The clouds that had seemed to hang in a perpetual gloomy gray over

Maurices life since their arrival that morning vanished as soon as

Shemaine joined them on the ship.
 
She was wearing a fetching pale blue

gown, a white lace-trimmed cap, and a white apron tied about her slender

waist.
 
In all, she looked very much like a colonial wife. Utterly

delicious, Maurice mused, feeding on her beauty as she hugged her

parents.
 
Indeed, he was so moved by her presence, he became I'

convinced that he would have given his entire wealth just to be the man

who now claimed her.

"I'm sorry Gage and I couldn't come greet you properly as soon as you

arrived," Shemaine apologized graciously.
 
"His lordship still hasn't

fully regained his strength, but he was greatly desirous of dispensing

with basin baths and having a good soak in a tub.
 
For that, he needed

Gage's assistance.
 
It seemed a good chance for me to clean his room.
 
I

hope you don't mind."

"His lordship?"' Maurice had caught the significance of the address and

was most curious.

Any doubts about the Marquess being equal in height to her husband were

put to final rest as Shemaine leaned her head back to meet his gaze.
 
It

was a similar necessity when loohng up into the amber-brown eyes.

"Gage's father is Lord William Thornton, Earl of Thornhedge."

A look of wonderment passed across Maurice's face.
 
Lord Thornton had

been his advocate on many bills before Parliament which had been

intended to define the rights of individuals under English law,

including one that would have forbidden the shipping of prisoners to

far-off ports, especially for the purpose of spilling out the refuse of

English gaols onto their colonies.

"Do you know him, your lordship?" Shemaine queried.

Maurice cocked his head and looked at her curiously, deepening the color

in her cheeks.
 
His dark eyes glowed with luminous warmth as a poignant

smile curved his handsome lips.
 
"What is that which you called me,

Shemaine?
 
I thought we had progressed far beyond titles and formal

addresses."

Shemaine was sure the apparent ease with which Maurice now seemed able

to disconcert her was primarily due to the prodding of her conscience.

In her eagerness to accept her husband's proposal, she had given little

heed to how Maurice might be hurt by her decision.
 
She had basically

taken it for granted that with so many winsome admirers among the

nobility, her former fiance would have casually directed his attention

elsewhere after her disappearance.

"We're no longer betrothed, my lord," she reminded him in muted tones,

uncomfortable beneath the fervid intensity of those dark orbs. 'And I do

not think it proper to address you by your given name any longer."

"I give you leave to do so, Shemaine," Maurice murmured, moving closer.

'You shall always have a place in my heart, even if I cannot win you

back."

Where once she had been at ease with Maurice, Shemaine now found herself

on pins and needles.
 
She was convinced that his nearness .

would bring about another confrontation after her husband joined them,

and she was bemused by it.
 
Was it some deliberate strategy on his part

to rile Gage, or did he hope his proximity would play upon her emotions,

perhaps mahng her regret her marriage to another?
 
Whatever his reasons,

Shemaine would have preferred him at a safer distance. Any moment now

Gage would be coming up the building slip, and if there was one thing

she had noticed since last night in Newportes Newes, it was the fact

that her husband now seemed quite possessive of her, as if he feared

losing her to her former betrothed.

In the awkward silence that followed, Camille stepped forward and placed

a doting kiss upon her daughter's brow.
 
"My dear, you look lovely." She

had seized upon a portion of Shemaine' s earlier statement and greatly

desired to hnow more.
 
"But tell me, dear, do you not have servants to

clean for you?"

Shemaine laughed blithely, thankful for the interruption.
 
"No, Mama, I

do all the coohng and cleaning myself."

"The cookin'?" Bess repeated, staring agog at her former student.

"Ye mean all of it?"

The cook's rampant astonishment drew an amused chuckle from Shemaine.

"You'd be amazed by what I've been able to remember from your

instructions, Bess.
 
In fact, Gage has said that I'm the best cook in

the area."

Bess was flabbergasted.
 
'My goodness, darling', an' here I was thinkin'

I had failed ta teach ye even the basics."

Camille had been the one to insist that Shemaine learn such wifely

duties, but she was certainly no different from other doting mothers who

preferred to pamper her only offspring, at least for as long as they

were near.
 
Camille had wanted the servants to accompany them to ease

their own adjustment to the untamed wilderness, and she now saw even

more advantage in their presence.
 
"Perhaps while we're here, Shemaine,

you might enjoy having Bess and Nola take over those duties so we can

visit together.
 
Would you mind terribly?"

Shemaine wrapped her arms around her mother and hugged her close. "No,

of course not, Mama.
 
I've been missing Bess's cooking so much lately,

my mouth waters just thinking about it."

"And Gage?
 
Would he think us presumptuous if we took over his

household?" Camille asked hesitantly.

Espying her husband coming up the building slip, Shemaine hurried to

meet him.
 
Noticing the frigid scowl that he bestowed upon the Marquess,

she slipped an arm through his and gave it a reassuring squeeze as she

whispered, "I love you."

A lean hand caressed hers as he breathed, "You make my heart sing , .

even in the midst of anger, my sweet.
 
You're my love .
 
.
 
.
 
my

heart's desire."

Beneath his warm smile, Shemaine could feel her own heart swelling with

the joy of her devotion.
 
Drawing him back to her mother, she presented

the matter which she and her parent had been discussing. "Gage, Mama

would like to know if you would mind Bess and Nola doing the cooking and

the chores while they're here."

Gazing at Camille Thornton, Gage realized his wife had been bequeathed

her mother's regal beauty.
 
Shemaine might have inherited her coloring

from her father, but she had definitely inherited the delicate features

of her mother.
 
"If Bess taught my wife, Mrs. O'Hearn, I have no doubt

that she's an exceptional cook.
 
I'm sure Shemaine will enjoy some

leisured moments to spend with you."

Shemaine squeezed her mother's hand.
 
"You see, Mama.
 
He's not an

ogre."

Camille reddened and was immediately reluctant to meet the smiling

amber-brown eyes that rested on her.
 
"I fear my daughter exaggerates,

sir.
 
I never thought you an ogre."

" Tis good to know that, madam," Gage replied easily, though he was just

as certain she still believed him a murderer.

Gage moved away slightly, facing his rival, and silently presented a

challenge with a cold-eyed stare.
 
As handsome as the Marquess was, it

was understandable that he had suffered pangs of jealousy when he had

noticed the man hovering near his wife.
 
Though the nobleman had doffed

his tricorn after leaving the carriage, he was nevertheless meticulously

garbed, wearing a royal blue frock coat with narrow breeches, waistcoat,

stockings and costly shoes, all of a rich creamy hue.
 
In the bright

sunlight the much lighter creaminess of his shirt and stock nearly

bedazzled the eye.
 
His black hair was neatly tied in a queue at his

nape, and his skin had taken on a deep, rich hue from his recent sea

passage.
 
Gage could now understand why Shemaine had been so sure that

Maurice would find another.
 
He was good-looking enough to attract women