Petals on the River (93 page)

agreed on a sum?"

"As long as such changes don't hinder her design, then they're

completely acceptable.
 
I'll just have to figure the cost of any

additional work before we agree on a price, and then hopefully we can

strike a bargain.
 
A portion of her cost will have to be left as

security, but once the ship is finished and meets all the requirements

of my guarantees, then the man can return, pay the remainder of what he

owes me, and take immediate possession."

Shemaine grew troubled.
 
"There's no way he can cheat you like Horace

Turnbull tried to do, is there?"

Gage laughed, easing her concern.
 
"Flannery says the captain's word is

like gold in a purse.
 
If I deliver what he expects, then he will do the

same.
 
He's looking for a ship that's as swift as some of those the

French are now sailing.
 
I would not want to boast, but I believe this

one will put the French crafts to shame."

Shemaine sighed with contentment.
 
"'Twould be nice to sail on the

vessel for a few moments before she's gone forever from our sight.
 
"

"I'm sure that can be arranged, my sweet.
 
The man will want to try her

out before taking full possession, and at that time I'll ask him if he

might allow other passengers to accompany us for a short jaunt along the

coast."

"I'd love that!"

Camille joined them and laid a hand upon Shemaine's arm to draw her

attention toward the path in front of the cabin, where Erich Wernher and

Tom Whittaker were toting a pair of large trunks toward the cabin.

"Dear, we've brought some of your clothes from England.
 
Where would you

like them taken?"

"My clothes!'' Shemaine gasped in ecstatic delight.
 
With cheeks rosy

and green eyes sparkling with excitement, she faced her husband and gave

him a dazzling smile.
 
"Oh, Gage, I must go see!"

"Then run along, my sweet," he urged with a chuckle.
 
"And don't forget

to talk to Bess about our additional guests.
 
There will be five coming,

three women and two men.
 
And if she's agreeable to cooking for so many,

Erich and Tom can set up some planks on carpenter's benches to make a

table on the front porch.
 
We can all eat out there."

Shemaine nodded and, half turning, lifted a hand to her sire, bidding

him to accompany her mother to the cabin.
 
Pausing briefly, she faced

her husband with another question.
 
"Will your father be up to joining

us?"

Gage responded with a slow grin.
 
"I'm sure he'll make the effort with

Mary Margaret here."

"Then I'll have a place set for him," Shemaine said, walking backward

several steps.
 
"Be sure and let me know as soon as our guests arrive.

In the meantime, I'll be trying on my gowns to see which of them still

fits."

Her husband gave her a doubtful stare.
 
"You don't imagine that you've

grown more than a mite, do you, madam?"

Furtively Shemaine passed a hand down the front of her bodice, denoting

the area she worried about most.
 
"In some places perhaps."

Gage's laughter accompanied her descent, but when he turned and found

Maurice glowering at him, his mirth ceased abruptly.
 
"Are you still

here, your lordship?" he challenged, vexed with the man for having eyed

them like a hawk.
 
"I thought you'd have taken the hint by now that

Shemaine is content to be my wife and left of your own accord.

Or do you still see some advantage in drooling over her like some

lapdog?"

Maurice was hardly in the mood to apologize.
 
For too long, he had

observed the couple talking together, and their obvious affection for

one another had provoked his jealousy.
 
If not for cruel fate, it might

have been him for whom Shemaine had sparkled.

Folding his hands behind his narrow hips, Maurice approached Gage with a

measured tread, thankful for this opportunity to be alone with the man.

He was anxious to make certain truths known to the rascal and, for that,

he needed privacy.
 
His statement was as clear and to the point as he

could make it.
 
"I won't be departing the colonies, Mr.

Thornton, until I'm able to leave with the woman I hold dear."

Gage's eyes chilled.
 
"To do that, my lord, you'll have to kill me."

An indolent shrug accompanied the Marquess's reply.
 
"I expected as

much."

"Perhaps you should consider that Shemaine might prefer me over you."

Maurice's black eyes lightly skimmed downward from the bronzed features

of his adversary to the broad shoulders clothed in a white full-sleeved

shirt and the taut, narrow hips garbed in tan breeches. He casually took

note of the square-toed black shoes before he met Gage's mildly amused

stare once more.
 
"I'll allow that Shemaine may have cause to be

infatuated with a man of your stature and good looks, sir but I'm sure

in time she'll forget you."

Gage's riposte nearly drew blood.
 
"Like she did you?"

The black eyes smoldered with suppressed rage.
 
"I'm sure twas only the

circumstances in which Shemaine found herself that compelled her to

agree to your proposal of marriage, Mr.
 
Thornton.
 
Had she known we

were sailing here to rescue her, I have no doubt she would have rejected

your offer."

"Perhaps," Gage admitted, "but only because she would have felt obliged

to honor your betrothal." He looked contemplatively at the Marquess.

"But tell me this, if you would.
 
If you were to kill me, how could you

ignore the child now growing within her?"

Maurice disliked the sharp prodding of his memory on that matter

"Because the babe will be a part of Shemaine, I will endeavor to give

him every benefit that I would afford my own offspring."

Gage scoffed.
 
"Every benefit?"

''Not my title, of course, but I will see that he .
 
.
 
.
 
or she . .
 
.

Iacks for nothing."

"Except his true father."

"That can't be helped, unfortunately," Maurice retorted blandly. "You

see, I cannot leave Shemaine here alone with you, knowing there could

come a time when you might kill her as you did your first wife. I would

never forgive myself if something happened to her which I could have

taken measures to avert."

"So you've judged me guilty to placate any qualms you might suffer when

you attempt to kill meþ"

"Attempt?"' The Marquess laughed caustically at Gage's choice of words.

"My good man, if I make up my mind to kill you, then be assured I shall

do just that.
 
I will not merely make an attempt!"

Somewhat incredulously, Gage inquired, "Are you so sure you can kill

me?"

"Unquestionably.
 
" Gage paused a thoughtful moment as he assessed the

Marquess's confidence.
 
His statement had not been conveyed with

despicable arrogance but with an unwavering conviction.
 
"Shemaine

warned me about your talents with dueling pistols and a sword, but she

also said that thus far you've only wounded your opponents."

"I shall take special pains to serve you a death sentence, sir."

Gage cocked his head at a contemplative angle.
 
"If you're so skilled at

dueling, my lord, would it not be the same as committing murder to fight

with another who has never dueled in his life?"

Maurice's mouth twitched with sardonic terseness.
 
"Hopefully, I shall

be serving justice her due and saving Shemaine from the fate of an early

death."

"And will nothing deter you from the path you've chosen?"

Maurice paused a moment to ponder Gage's question and finally responded

with a brief, affirmative nod.
 
"If you were to be completely exonerated

of killing your first wife, then I must allow that you might be a fit

husband to Shemaine.
 
At least, with that assurance, I would be

confident about leaving her in your care."

Gage returned the Marquess's steadfast stare, understanding the man

completely.
 
He would do nothing less himself.
 
"Then I shall endeavor

to hope for my family's sake, my lord, that your hand is stayed by such

a miracle."

Maurice grew reflective as he appraised the other man.
 
"I perceive you

are no coward, Mr.
 
Thornton."

Gage inclined his head imperceptibly as he returned the tribute. "Nay,

nor are you, your lordship."

William Thornton made a valiant attempt to rise to his feet as Camille

and Shemus O'Hearn entered the parlor, but Shemaine laid a gentle hand

upon his shoulder, urging him back into his chair.

"Do not stress yourself, my lord," she begged softly.
 
"My mother

understands that you are recovering from a serious wound and cannot

grace us with your sterling manners."

"I told his lordship as much meself, but he wouldn't listen ta me

advice," Mary Margaret volunteered from the settee, setting aside the

playing cards she had been holding in her hand.

Andrew scooted off the settee and ran to Shemaine.
 
When Bess and Nola

had entered the kitchen, he had sought solace in the familiarity of Mrs.

McGee as a close friend, but now that Shemaine had returned, he felt at

ease again.
 
Shemaine introduced the elders to each other and then

presented the boy to her parents.

"And this is my son, Andrew," she proudly declared, hugging him

affectionately.
 
"He's two years old, can count to ten and can even

spell his first name."

"Oh, what a fine, handsome boy you are," Camille praised admiringly.