The Elusive Flame (14 page)

Alistair Winthrop appeared to be a desperate man. Beau did not doubt that for an instant. Certainly, while the man was able to make legal claim to Cerynise, however false it might be, he could prevent her from escaping to the Carolinas. Beau could think of only one possible arrangement that could hold sway over a guardian’s rights and be adequate enough to protect her from Winthrop and the danger the man represented, even in a court of law.

The silence dragged on until Cerynise thought she couldn’t bear it another moment. If Beau was tormenting her for some sadistic pleasure, then he was being completely thorough in that endeavor.

Beau clasped his hands behind his back as he returned to Cerynise. He smiled briefly. “’Twould seem there are no alternatives, my dear. Your friend, Alistair, leaves us little choice if you are indeed intent upon going home.”

“I am,” she affirmed once again.

“Then, my dear, we must be married posthaste.”

Cerynise stared at him, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me correctly. ’Tis the only available solution for us both. As things stand now, Winthrop will have little difficulty convincing the authorities to turn you over to him. I’m a foreigner in this country, and I’ve angered port officials who seem jealous of my ability to whisk in and out of this country with relative ease. ’Tis not uncommon for them to resent Yankees. And if I try to leave with you, I’m sure they’ll attempt to seize my ship and cast me into prison. As my wife, you’ll be under my protection, and I can almost promise you that no magistrate is going to step between a husband and his wife.”

How strange the things she noticed now that the world had gone out of kilter with the universe. The man standing in front of her was so tall, her head barely touched the top of his shoulders, and there was the nicest little scar on his chin.…

Having gained no response, Beau probed for an answer. “Do you understand, Cerynise?”

“Of course,” she breathed. “You want to marry me, you said.” The thought of being his wife filled her with many contradictory emotions…shock, fear, and a burgeoning excitement she didn’t dare consider at the present moment.

“Actually, that’s not quite what I said,” Beau corrected carefully.

Her gaze flicked up, revealing her confusion.

As much as he yearned to make love to her, Beau refused to commit himself to a long-term union from which he’d be unable to walk away. He enjoyed sailing too much, and if he continued roaming the world after taking on the responsibilities of a wife and offspring, he’d be doing them a grave disservice, for he would never be around to nurture them or when they truly needed him. Indeed, the way he flitted from continent to island or elsewhere, he’d probably spend just enough time at home to see the child he had sired from a previous visit and to get his wife pregnant again. He had seen it happen much too often in the lives of other captains and seamen to doubt that it would be any different for him.

Beau explained with painstaking clarity, lest Cerynise suffer any doubt about what he was proposing. “Once we arrive in Charleston, we can have the marriage annulled, and then we’ll be free to go our separate ways. By then, you’ll be at home where you want to be, and I won’t have my ship confined on the wrong side of the Atlantic while I wrestle with the courts.”

“There’s no need for you to do anything so drastic, Beau,” Cerynise murmured in quiet dignity. He made it bitingly clear that he really didn’t want her for a wife. He
was only being chivalrous, helping her out of a predicament, nothing more. She hadn’t really thought him to be serious. Well, not for more than an instant perhaps. “You can simply sail away.”

“Without you?” Beau was astounded at her suggestion. “I wouldn’t do that, Cerynise. I’d never forgive myself, most certainly not after seeing what you’d have to confront with Alistair Winthrop as your guardian. Call it a debt that I owe your father for not giving up on me when I could just as well have gone the way of some of my friends, who laughed at his efforts to make them study. Your father’s visits to my parents brought about the results he desired in keeping my mind fixed on what was important rather than on the frivolous enjoyments a lad is wont to seek after. I owe him much more than I can ever repay.”

Cerynise stared at him, thinking of that tall, handsome lad with short, loosely curling black locks and jet-lashed green eyes with whom she had always been enamored. She recalled the times when he had lifted her astride his horse in front of him to give her lessons and, over a season, had gently coaxed her out of her fear of riding. Then there was that singular afternoon many years ago when she had been playing by herself near the schoolhouse and several boys, after leaving class, had started pestering her, yanking her pigtails, snapping her with pebbles launched from peashooters, and doing everything they could to make her supremely miserable. Beau had heard her outraged cries upon his departure from school and had come running to box the ears of her tormentors, gaining for himself a harsh reprimand and extra homework as a penalty from her father, who after hearing her story later that evening had traveled to Harthaven to humbly apologize to the lad and thank him for defending his daughter.

Beau was now the one growing impatient for an answer and wondered if the girl had fallen into a daze. He didn’t know what percentage of women swooned after receiving a proposal of marriage, but she had never impressed him
as the type. “Blast it, Cerynise, it’s not as if I’m asking you to swear fealty to me or…”

“Oh, but you are,” she pointed out, not unreasonably she thought.

Beau seemed taken aback. “All right, perhaps I am, but we both know it will only be a temporary situation. As soon as the voyage is over, then we can sever the marriage, and that will be the end of it.”

He made it sound so simple, Cerynise mused distantly. A marriage of convenience to be followed by a prompt annulment. A legal technicality. A way out of their situation. Nothing more. Nothing really at all.

But she knew it wasn’t quite that easy, at least not with her. To claim Beau Birmingham as her husband had been a long-held dream born a decade ago in the mind of a child. She smiled wistfully. Strange how enduring that fantasy had been. She still yearned for it even now.

Cerynise looked up into eyes that were a deeper, truer green than a rolling meadow. He was the boy she had once known, and yet he really wasn’t. He was a man full grown, with a mind of his own, and he was offering to give her the protection of his name when she most desperately needed it. His very presence made her feel utterly safe. Yet, at the same time, she was aware of a poignant disquiet growing within her, which made her almost fearful. If she fell more deeply in love with her prince, what would happen to her heart once their marriage was dissolved? Would she be able to bear the abject loneliness that would descend upon her once they were separated? Would he even care what she might suffer when they went their separate ways?

Beau saw nothing in Cerynise’s face that gave any hint of her acceptance of his plan. Indeed, she seemed almost apprehensive, as if fearful of what their marriage might lead to. He could only imagine that with the lack of space aboard ship she might be afraid of sharing his quarters and of what might follow. Making love to her was not something he could promise would never happen; he was
too damned aware of his own needs to do an irrational thing like that. Three months could seem like an eternity when one was bound up in oaths of abstinence. He was no monk by any means, nor a gentleman to that degree, nor would he commit himself to her in that way. His mating instincts were too strong to be ignored even now. What torment would he devise for himself if he foolishly spilled such gallant covenants only to regret them later? The way he was feeling presently,
later
could mean only a matter of moments from now. Still, he relented enough to suggest, “For the time being, think of it as a…a titular arrangement, if you must. Beyond that, I can only pledge that I won’t force you to do anything with which you’re not in complete agreement.”

Cerynise closed her eyes, trying to mentally sort out what he had just said to her. He wasn’t necessary vowing not to touch her…or was he? What else could one possibly imagine about
a titular arrangement?

“Is my proposal something you can accept?” Beau pressed after another lengthy wait.

Cerynise opened her eyes and, in a small voice, stated her decision. “It seems to be the only option I have to be free of Alistair.”

Beau had no doubt that any suitor who had hopes of gaining her for a wife either now or in the future would have a hard time calmly accepting what she was agreeing to at this very moment. Since they were destined to be confined aboard a ship for the length of three months, give or take a week or two, any swain would naturally wonder what the two of them had done together to while away so much time in a temporary marriage. No one could predict what their relationship would bear. But when Beau tried to determine what his own reactions would be if some swain pressed him to sign annulment papers after the voyage, an odd sense of vexation rose up within him, as if he’d actually resent being prodded into signing away his rights to a woman who nearly took his breath away. It was uppermost in his mind that he desired her, no doubt
more than any woman he had ever known, but he also wanted to be free of the chains that could forever bind him to land.

“I sense that you’re troubled over the necessity of making this decision…”

Cerynise halted his words with a small shake of her head. “I’d prefer not to discuss this matter any further, Beau, if you don’t mind. I’ve made my decision, and I can only urge you to proceed as quickly as possible ere we find our plans set awry.”

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Beau informed her, slipping a hand beneath her arm and turning her toward the companionway. “But I’m sure before the afternoon is well spent, the nuptials will be concluded.”

He escorted her back to his cabin and, after a short time, sent Billy Todd to her with instructions to be useful in whatever way she deemed fit. Beau had informed the lad what would take place before the day was out, and as a result, Billy was terribly flustered. He was inclined to stare at Cerynise as a ruddy hue ebbed and flowed into his cheeks. Every seaman aboard the
Audacious
had been aware of the captain’s reluctance to marry for some years now, and to hear that he was giving up his freedom had come as something of a shock to all of them. It didn’t matter that the girl was more winsome than any Billy had personally seen; he was still flabbergasted by the alacrity with which his captain was advancing to make her his own.

“Cap’n says…the two o’ ye—” Billy broke off and simply gaped at her, finding his tongue tied by his awkward attempt to make conversation.

“Said what, Billy?”

He waved a hand in mute apology, but as she continued to await his answer, he hurried to give an excuse. “I forgot, miss.”

“’Tis quite all right, Billy,” Cerynise soothed, subduing a dejected sigh. “I’m not very mindful of anything right now either.” Perhaps it was just as well that she had
someone else to reassure. Trying to ease the lad’s abashment diverted her thoughts from what she was actually committing herself to. Marriage with a man whom she all but idolized? What could be so distressing about that?

The years she had spent in England had eventually led her to dismiss her long-savored dream in which she would become Beau’s wife as nothing more than a girlish fantasy. It had definitely not seemed conceivable. Thereafter she had thought about marriage with only passing interest. She had simply assumed that one day she’d marry and, in a vague sort of way, had looked forward to doing so. Yet she had also been content to have the fulfillment of that premise floating off in the distant future somewhere. Painting became the focal point of her attention, and it had taken over her interests so completely that it had left her with little inclination for daydreaming about the faceless, unknown male who would one day become her husband.

Except that he was no longer faceless now, and he really wasn’t going to be her husband, at least not in the way that Lydia had delicately tried to explain shortly after Cerynise had crossed the threshold into budding maturity. Beau would merely be doing her a favor, rather like the
parfait, gentil
knight of Chaucer would do, she as the damsel in distress and he as a chivalrous knight riding to her rescue.

A vision of Beau outfitted in shining armor and racing to her aid on a gleaming white charger was wonderful to behold in her mind, even if it did seem a bit absurd. She was sure that Beau would absolutely abhor being in armor, preferring as he did the casual comfort of a shirt and finely tailored trousers. He rode remarkably well, as she recalled, but she entertained serious doubts that he’d approve of any horse being festooned with plumes and embroidered reins. Still, she might have found it pleasurable had he consented to kissing her hand.…

Ah, yes
, she mused in sublime pleasure. That would be absolutely perfect to start off with. The farfetched idea drew a giggle from her, but she choked it off, realizing
that Billy Todd was still in the room, laying out the captain’s clothes.

“Miss?” He looked around nervously. “Are you all right?”

Cerynise gave the cabin boy a bright smile, trying to dispell any notion that she was ailing or afflicted in any manner. “I’m sorry, Billy. My imagination has a tendency to run away with me at times.”

The cabin boy reddened as he realized that she might well be thinking of the evening to come when she and the captain would be alone together in the cabin. “I can see where it might have cause today, miss.”

Scarcely an hour after Billy had taken the captain’s clothes and left her to her solitude, Cerynise was once again interrupted. This time it was Stephen Oaks whom she ushered in. He seemed almost as stunned as Billy and, for a moment, wavered between shock and amusement. The latter finally won out.

“I guess ’tis true what they say,” he mused aloud. “If you sail the seven seas long enough, you’ll eventually see everything.”