Petals on the River (14 page)

a man soundly in their village without any apparent reason.

Roxanne had been anxious to explain that he could not have murdered

Victoria and still been able to reach the spot where he had been when

she first caught sight of him only moments after Victoria's fall.
 
But

there were those who had voiced skepticism, implying that the Smithy's

daughter had been hopelessly infatuated with him for years and would say

or do anything to see him exonerated, no matter how guilty he may have

been.

When asked directly, Gage had neither confirmed nor denied Roxanne's

story, but had simply explained that he had taken his son back to the

cabin to wash him up and could not say what had really happened between

the time he left Victoria on the ship and the moment Roxanne arrived by

canoe.
 
Having found no hard, fast proof to incriminate him in his

wife's death, the British officials of the governing body of the area

had concluded that they could not blandly ignore his alibi, no matter

how enamored Roxanne may have been with him.

"My ship is a seafaring vessel, Mrs.
 
Pettycomb," Gage informed her

stiffly.
 
"And I assure you, she will sail far beyond the tidewaters of

this area.
 
Twill only be a matter of time til she proves her worth."

Alma Pettycomb was hardly convinced.
 
"That remains to be seen, doesn't

it?"

Though a stranger to them both, Shemaine was certain the woman had to be

nearly witless not to notice the turbulence brewing behind the exterior

aloofness of the man.
 
Knowing only too well how her own father would

have reacted, she was rather amazed by her master's rigid control.

Had Shemus O'Hearn been the recipient of such vicious chiding, Mrs.

Pettycomb would have quickly fallen back before the onslaught of his

verbal outrage.
 
In sharp contrast, Gage Thornton kept tight rein on his

temper, though he stood his ground like an impenetrable bastion and was

intensely loyal to his own ambitions and ideals.

"I cannot expect you to understand, madam." Gage had never lent much

value to Alma Pettycomb's opinions and was not motivated to do so now.

"It takes someone far more knowledgeable about sailing ships to grasp

the importance of my design and to perceive the brigantine's potential

for greater speed ere the day of its launching " Alma was not one to

admit there was anything on this particular side of the continent that

she didn't know a great deal about.
 
In truth, she lacked understanding

about a lot of things outside of her own realm of interests, at the

forefront of which was sailing ships.
 
Still, she avoided being

challenged with pertinent questions by directing the subject elsewhere.

"When you're unwilling to listen to reason, Gage Thornton, there's

certainly no purpose in continuing this discussion about your boat.

Waste all your time and money on your foolish endeavors, if you wish.

What I'm mostly concerned about is Roxanne. She'll be terribly

distressed by this recent purchase.
 
Indeed, you can hardly expect her

to entertain a marriage proposal while you have this .
 
.
 
.

this creature living under the same roof with you."

Gage was no more grateful for the busybody's meddling advice than he had

been her reproofs.
 
"I fear you've been seriously misinformed if you

think there is anything between Roxanne and me, Mrs.
 
Pettycomb."

Alma elevated a thin brow as she cast a haughty glance toward Shemaine.

"Certainly not since you've purchased this bondswoman."

Gage grew emphatic in his denial.
 
"I beg your pardon, madam, but there

has never been anything between us."

"Are you disavowing any knowledge of the trousseau Roxanne has been

embroidering .
 
.
 
.
 
with your initials?"

Gage was momentarily dumbfounded by her statement.
 
Roxanne had been

making overtures ever since their first encounter nine years ago, when

he had needed the blacksmith services of her father.
 
More recently she

had been strongly hinting that a match between them would be desirable,

but he had been extremely careful not to give her any encouragement.

"I never once broached the subject of marriage with Roxanne or abetted

any notion that there could possibly be anything between us."

Alma deliberately made a point of dismissing his denials.
 
"You might as

well know your claims will fall on deaf ears, Gage.
 
Since there are no

other marriageable men living in this area with the initials GHT, we've

all assumed Roxanne is embroidering monograms that stand for Gage

Harrison Thornton."

"Then you're mistaken, one and all," Gage replied brusquely.

Mrs.
 
Pettycomb gazed at him in amplified disbelief.
 
"Perhaps Roxanne

has reason to believe you'll marry her because you've never gone out of

your way to discourage her," the matron harped.
 
" Tis plain to all that

she has dreamt of becoming your wife for some time now, even before

Victoria arrived here in Newportes Newes and captured your attention. If

you can't see that Roxanne is taken with-you and has been for some time,

then everybody else around here can.
 
You should have told her outright

there was no hope instead of leading her on all these many years."

Having grown immensely tired of the busybody and her pettish

accusations, Gage brought the discussion to an abrupt end.
 
"I haven't

time to debate this matter with you any longer, Mrs.
 
Pettycomb.
 
I'm

sorry, but I must get back to my cabin and my son."

Alma pressed on, ignoring his curt rebuff.
 
"If you were wise, Gage

Thornton, you'd take my advice and forget this inanity of yours. Taking

this"þbriefly directing a contemptuous sneer upon Shemaine, she sniffed

arrogantly and forced herself to be more charitable than she wanted to

beþ"chit home with you is bound to cause speculation as to your real

reasons for buying herþ"

"I must hurry," Gage insisted, cutting through her incessant chatter.

"Hurry!
 
Hurry!
 
Hurry!" the woman fussed.
 
"That's all you do! You have

no time to stop and think things through, Gage!
 
Otherwise, you'd

recognize when a woman has set her sights on you.
 
You work

relentlessly, never stopping.
 
Why do you even bother?"

"For Andrew, Mrs.
 
Pettycomb," Gage answered succinctly as a light

smattering of raindrops began to fall upon them.
 
"For my son."

Dismissing the elder, Gage took Shemaine's arm and led her away. As he

did so, he inclined his head toward an area near the river.
 
"My canoe

is over there, only a short distance away.
 
Do you think you can walk

that far?"

"I'll do my best, sir," Shemaine replied with an indistinct nod.

As if to make a mockery of her statement, the gusts strengthened

sharply, forcing Shemaine to retreat before their onslaught.
 
Blinking

against the heavy droplets that had begun to pelt them, she sought to

put one foot before the other, but it seemed a useless endeavor, for the

rising gale seemed to hold her prisoner.

Gage halted abruptly and turned to face her, causing Shemaine to cringe

inwardly beneath his frown.
 
She knew she was slow and clumsy, having

little strength to rely upon, and fully expected to be reprimanded for

impeding their progress.
 
For a moment the tall, broad shouldered form

provided her shelter from the rain.
 
Then, without a word, the man bent

and picked her up in his arms.

"Mr.
 
Thornton!
 
What are you doing?
 
Put me down!" Shemaine gasped,

outraged that he had taken it upon himself to handle her with such

familiarity.
 
No man except her own father had ever been presumptuous

enough to carry her, and even then she had been very young.
 
It

unsettled her to be clasped to her master's hardened frame for his

physical prowess made her painfully aware of just how thin and frail she

had become.
 
In the rain his clean manly scent was far more elusive, but

it was enough to fill her head and fluster her even more, for she felt

filthy to a fault.
 
Faintly she added, "P-people will stare, Mr.

Thornton."

Gage scoffed, rejecting her concern, and cast a quick glance over his

shoulder to find Alma Pettycomb doing just that despite the rapidly

wilting bonnet that was crumpling down over her brow.
 
"If any harping

ol' biddy wants to stand in a downpour and gawk at us, then I'm inclined

to let her!" he muttered.
 
"As for me, I intend to get home as soon as

possible, and I can't wait around for you to get your land legs back

under you."

Gage sprinted across the thoroughfare of the hamlet, motivating Shemaine

to throw her arms around his neck and hang on for dear life They were

proceeding at a pace far too swift for her peace of mind and she could

only guess what she would suffer if he slipped in the mud and she went

flying.
 
The bruises caused by Potts would probably seem insignificant

in comparison.

His new bondslave was certainly no great burden to carry, Gage Thornton

decided as he dashed toward the river's edge, for she seemed as light as

thistledown in his arms.
 
He was also struck by how soft and womanly she

felt against him as she clasped her arms tightly about his neck.
 
He

likened himself to a teetotaler besotted by the intoxicating pressure of

her rounded bosom.
 
The pleasure he derived from the experience gave him

cause to wonder if he had been a widower for so long that he had

forgotten just how delicious it was to hold a young beautiful woman

within his grasp.

Gage entered the woods where a line of trees along the riverbank formed

a sheltering canopy above their heads.
 
There he came to a halt and

stood his bondslave on her feet.
 
Dragging a canoe from a nearby