An Inconvenient Wife (12 page)

Agitated, her stomach
churning with nerves, Anne took another turn around the small room. Perhaps she
should wait outside. Inside, outside, which was better? A short laugh escaped
her. Here she was, fretting over such a paltry thing like some lunatic.
He
would arrive when he arrived
.
Stay here and sit down with your book.
She
was about to do so when she heard the creak of the gate and the murmur of
voices. A short exchange with Maggie that she couldn’t catch, then Blackwell
was there in the doorway, dressed more formally than she’d yet seen him, and
she was glad she had donned the one dress she owned that was not black or dark
blue.

“Miss McKenzie.”

“Anne, please.”

He stepped forward, his
expression so carefully noncommittal that she had the fleeting urge to change
her mind.

“Have you come to a
decision…Anne?”

Not sure whether she felt
pleased or harried at his immediacy, Anne paused to gather her thoughts, and
then said slowly, “I am
inclined to accept your proposal, sir, strange
as it seems right now. I do, however, have some questions before making a final
decision.”

“And they are?”

“You have proposed taking
five strangers into your household, Mr. Blackwell
.
You do realize the
Fentons will stay with me?” At his brief nod, Anne continued. “This will of
necessity cause a major disruption in your life. It can hardly be otherwise.
Have you given this consideration? If nothing else, you will be expected to
stand somewhat as a father to the Durants. Are you prepared—
willing
—to
do so?”

His eyes narrowed and he
viewed her with a contemplative expression that made her stiffen.
Surely he
had already given this some thought.

“I am. Above all, Danielle
and Guy need a home where they can feel safe and cared for, which with your
help, I can provide. The transition for all of us may be difficult at times,
yes, but I believe the advantages worth it.”

The quiet answer held both
approval and respect. Anne felt something ease inside her. “Very well, sir. I
am willing. I do, however, feel you should be made aware of my reasons for
being here in Portugal.” Did relief flicker in his eyes? Surely it was her
imagination, and indeed, his next comment was close to a dismissal.

“Unless you are a murderess,
it is not necessary at the moment. I’m afraid I must leave immediately to call
at the Consulate to make arrangements for the ceremony. They will know of an
English minister or chaplain, and I need to notify the ship’s captain of our
departure. Can you be ready to leave within a few days?”

He at least had the grace to
look apologetic, Anne thought, disheartened by his apparent indifference to the
importance of the occasion. Unorthodox though his proposal was, she had
expected a little more attention to her acceptance of marriage!

“If need be.” A short
answer, and who could blame her? But something of her disappointment reached
him, for he smiled—a real smile that made her pulse quicken, and he touched her
arm lightly.

“I’ve treated you quite
shabbily, haven’t I? You deserve better, and I hope you will excuse me for it.”

Disconcerted, she stared at
him, all her prepared speech flown out the window.

“Of course,” she managed.

He stepped back, walked to
the door and paused, half turning to look at her. “Oh, and Anne? I am pleased.”

Then he was gone, the squeak
of the gate sounded and Anne sank into her chair.
It could be worse, Anne.
He might not be pleased!

~* * *~

Blackwell
was
pleased
that Anne had accepted, although he was still in a state of bewilderment that
he had even made her the offer of marriage. He was even more astonished that he
felt grateful she’d agreed!
What the devil have you gotten into, Westcott?
You don’t want a wife. After Camille….
The vision of his first and only love
danced into his head, intrusive—and unwanted. His beautiful, elfin wife, with
an effervescent spirit that frothed like the best champagne, who could charm
the birds from the trees.
Unless you denied her something she wanted.
Blackwell
closed the door on any more memories. He had other concerns right now. Chiefly,
locating the Lady Gay and telling Carlisle of the situation.

With a silent apology to his
valet, Blackwell picked his way through the debris littering the streets along
the waterfront. The Lady Gay was moored some distance out from the last
pier—the furthest, he noted with annoyance. Now it just needed her captain to
be carousing in some brothel somewhere.

Not Jasper, Blackwell
amended immediately. The Captain seldom dallied with the ladies available in
port, citing his aversion to any number of unwelcome diseases. The seaman
stationed at the dock confirmed that Carlisle was on board and cheerfully rowed
him out to the ship. The man steadied the ladder until Blackwell was safely
over the rail, agreed to return in an hour, and whistling a jaunty air, went
back to the docks.

Carlisle was on deck to
greet him with a slap on the shoulder that almost sent him over the side.
Blackwell frowned as he recovered his balance.

“Confound it, Carlisle. I’ve
no yen for a wetting.”

Carlisle grinned, unabashed.
“Especially not in that water! Good to see you, my friend. I hope this means we
will soon be on our way? My cargo is loaded, and my crew has had a reasonably
uneventful shore leave. Any longer, and they will be finding trouble.”

Since he knew that any of
Carlisle’s crew who went out looking for trouble was likely to be told off the
ship, Blackwell ignored the comment. “Soon, I hope. There have been some
complications.” This was such an understatement that he shook his head and sent
Carlisle a taut smile.

“You will think I’ve taken
leave of my senses when I tell you the whole of it.” He looked around, noted
the crew busy at their tasks, and jerked his head toward the forecastle. “Come
below. I want a drink, and we need privacy.

“Did you find the girl?”
Carlisle asked once they were settled at the table in his cabin with glasses in
hand.

“Oh, I found her right
enough. Getting to her without her stepfather knowing of it was another
matter.” Blackwell paused for a moment, briefly entertained the thought of
editing the tale, decided against it just as quickly, and began to relate all
that had happened since he disembarked.

Other than a question or
two, Carlisle sat silent, with only an infrequent flick of surprise crossing
his face.
That will change
, Blackwell thought with dark amusement as he
neared the end of the story. He took a sip of his whiskey. “Miss Mackenzie has
agreed to marry me.”

“The devil you say!”

Carlisle’s roar echoed
around the cabin and Blackwell winced. “I believe I was quite clear. I plan to
marry, at the Consulate, if it can be so arranged—tomorrow or the following
day—and I want you to stand up with me. We will come aboard immediately after
and you can sail whenever you see fit to do so.”

“You are mad.” Carlisle
stared at him as if he had two heads. “Nick, you know nothing about the woman.
What if she is a shrew, or a gad-about—or an…”

“Another Camille? She is
not.”

The flat, positive statement
was as effective as a shout and Carlisle leaned back, a speculative look in his
eyes.

“You cannot possibly be sure
of that after a few days’ acquaintance. This is for life, Nick. I hoped you
would remarry, try for some happiness, but to see you in another unh…”

“I will not be unhappy. Or
happy,” Blackwell cut in sharply. “This is a marriage of convenience, nothing
more.” He tossed back the whiskey remaining in his glass and stood.

Carlisle rose as well and
stared hard at Blackwell. “Convenient for whom? Why are you doing this, Nick?
You could hire a dozen old women as chaperones.”

Carlisle’s mouth was tight
with anger and concern, Blackwell realized. The impulse to ignore the questions
died. He owed Jasper the truth. “I want her for Sarah. She needs a mother,
Jasp. Anne is the most nurturing female I’ve ever met. She will take Sarah to
heart just as she has Danielle and her brother.”

“I see.” Carlisle’s mouth
drew back in a mirthless smile. “And if they are not enough for her, if she
wants a child of her own, what then?”

Blackwell’s gaze fell and he
turned away. “It will have to be enough.” His refusal for further discussion
must have been apparent, for Carlisle’s reply came as he opened the door.

“Let me know the time and
direction for the ceremony.”

Blackwell hesitated, wanting
to say something, anything, to reassure Carlisle, whose disapproval had shaken
him more than he cared to acknowledge. He settled for a simple, “Thank you.”
What was left to say? Nothing that had not already squirreled through his head.
What the devil are you going to do with a wife and two children, all of them
virtually strangers? How will Sarah feel about having other children in the
house? What will your friends and neighbors think of this sudden marriage?
Unanswerable questions, all. Nevertheless, he was determined on this course, for
better or worse.

Who knows, Westcott? For
once, it might be the better!

Chapter Ten

England

Anne waited for the gangway.
A strange, unsettling mixture of apprehension as to what lay ahead and relief
that they were about to disembark swirled inside her. She looked sideways at
Westcott, who stood nearby, his arms folded across his chest and his expression
unreadable. Nothing unusual in that, and she returned her gaze to the more
interesting bustle of men shifting cargo into and out of the multitude of ships
lining the piers. The Fentons stood in the lee of the bulkhead with the trunks
and boxes. Maggie never took well to anything that floated, and they were both
anxious to be off the ship and on “home ground”, as Bill said.

The voyage had been comfortable,
even with four people crammed into the Captain’s cabin. The Lady Gay was not as
large as the ship which had brought Anne to Portugal, but was in good repair
and almost painfully tidy. Captain Carlisle ran his ship well. Anne had liked
him immediately upon their introduction; it was clear he and Nicholas were
friends of long-standing.

Nicholas in her head, but
you have yet to address him as such.
The whole affair seemed
so surreal. You are Mrs. Blackwell and scarcely able to believe it
. She
half-expected to wake up and find that the simple ceremony was a dream.

A light touch on her arm and
Blackwell’s deep voice, raised to overcome the din on the docks, drew her
attention. “We are free to go ashore now. One of the crew has gone ahead to
bespoke a carriage to take us to the hotel. If you are ready?”

Anne swallowed the impulse
to say no, she had changed her mind, just to see his reaction, and nodded.

“Of course. Danielle, Guy.
We are going ashore now.”

Trailed by the children, who
looked even less ready to embark on this new venture than she was, Anne stepped
gingerly onto the wide-planked gangway, which was not as unsteady as it
appeared at first glance. Nonetheless, she kept a hand on Blackwell’s arm,
which no doubt annoyed him, but she had no intention of making a spectacle of
herself by tumbling head-first off the ship. Even with her vigilance, however,
her foot caught on a warped board and only his quick grip on her shoulder kept
her upright.

“Take care. The boards are
uneven in spots.”

“Yes, I see that. Thank
you.” Stung by the look of weary patience on his face, Anne kept her eyes down,
intent on her steps and avoiding his gaze. Embarrassed and irritated, she tried
to make allowances since the past week had surely been a trial to him, but it
was no less difficult for her, and
she
was not all about with it.

Wondering if he had even the
slightest idea of how nervous she was, Anne welcomed the approach of the
carriage with relief. She smiled reassuringly at the children. Danielle’s lips
were clamped together in what Anne suspected was an effort to constrain her
tears, and Guy clung to her hand with Bonnie clutched to his chest. Catching
Maggie’s eye with a silent plea, she mouthed a “thank you” when the older woman
detached the boy and put an arm around his shoulders.

“Just a short ride now. We
will soon be snug in our rooms, and you can order whatever you like for your
dinner,” Anne promised them, praying it was true. And indeed, with a minimum of
fuss—the man
was
very good at seeing all in order—they were on their
way. She, and these poor uprooted children, wanted something other than ship
fare to eat.

The hotel was luxuriant,
with an attentive staff that showed them to a large suite, complete with
sitting room and three bedchambers. Anne requested that water be brought for
bathing and a meal served in an hour. She was sorry Maggie and Bill were
quartered on another floor, but knew the older couple was as weary as they
were.