Surrender of a Siren (46 page)

And he was still wearing those sea-weathered, fire-scarred boots. No doubt for sentimental reasons.

“Steady there,” he murmured, catching her by the elbows. She looked up to meet his beautiful blue-green eyes. “I have you.”

“Oh, Gray.” She launched herself into his arms, clinging to his neck as he laughed and spun her around. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

And he was. Every strong, solid, handsome inch of him. Sophia buried her face in his throat, breathing in his scent. Lord, how she’d missed him.

She pulled away, bracing her hands on his shoulders to study his face. “I can’t believe you came after me.”

“I can’t believe you actually left.” He lowered her to the deck, and her hands slid to his arms. “I thought you were bluffing with that bit. I’d have never allowed you to go.”

Sophia shook her head. “I didn’t say a word in that courtroom that wasn’t true. I didn’t want to lie to you anymore, Gray. Even if we can’t be together … I just couldn’t leave without telling you the truth.”

“Who says we can’t be together?” His brow furrowed.

“Surely you must understand. I’m ruined, most thoroughly. You’ve worked so hard to regain your family’s place, you have such hopes for your sister. If you marry me, all those plans will be ruined, too. I couldn’t ask it of you.” Her eyes fell to his lapel, and she lowered her voice. “Unless … I could stay on as your mistress, perhaps. If we kept the arrangement quiet, it would not reflect on Bel. It’s what the
ton
will expect of me, now that I’m a fallen woman.”

He cupped her chin and lifted her face. “Don’t ever speak of yourself that way.” His voice was fierce; his gaze, intent. “And don’t ever refer to yourself as my mistress again. I will have you as my wife, or nothing.”

She let her hands fall to her sides. “Then I suppose it will have to be nothing.”

Gray swore. “Do you honestly believe I’ve chased you out to the middle of the ocean for nothing?”

“But what about your aunt, your connections? Your sister’s prospects—”

He shook his head. “The only prospects Bel cares about are the prospects of ministering to flea-bitten orphans, of which I’ve assured her London has plenty. She’d only agree to come with me after I promised
not
to give her a debut. If she marries at all, she’ll likely marry some Quaker, or maybe a pitiful war invalid.”

“She’s come with you?”

“See for yourself.” Gray nodded toward the deck of his ship. Yes, there she was. The dark-haired young lady gave a friendly wave. Sophia suddenly became aware of how many people were watching them, on both ships.

She cleared her throat. “And what of your brother?”

“Joss? He’ll be bringing the
Aphrodite
to England, once he takes care of her cargo. After that, he’s thinking of studying law. I’ll manage the shipping business, Bel will have her charities. The family will be together; that’s the important thing.” He smiled. “Mr. Wilson’s agreed to manage your sugar cooperative, in case you’re wondering.”

Hope fluttered in her chest. “Are you sure you want to marry me? I’m quite destitute now, you realize.”

Gray laughed. “Look at that ship. That clipper cost me a queen’s ransom, even with the
Kestrel
thrown in the bargain. But it was the fastest ship to be had.” He took her hands in his. “Forget money. Forget society. Forget expectations. We’ve no talent for following rules, remember? We have to follow our hearts. You taught me that.”

He gathered her to him, drawing her hands to his chest. “God, sweet, don ’t you know? You’ve had my heart in your pocket since the day we met. Following my heart means following you. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth if I have to.” He shot an amused glance at the captain. “Though I’d expect your good captain would prefer I didn’t. In fact, I think he’d gladly marry us today, just to be rid of me.”

“Today? But we couldn’t.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Oh, but we could.” He pulled her to the other side of the ship, slightly away from the gaping crowd. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned close to whisper in her ear, “Happy birthday, love.”

Sophia melted in his embrace. It was her birthday, wasn’t it? The day she’ d been anticipating for months, and here she’d forgotten it completely. Until Gray had appeared on the horizon, she hadn’t been looking forward to anything.

But now she did. She looked forward to marriage, and children, and love and grand adventure. Real life and true passion. All of it with this man. “Oh, Gray.”

“Please say yes,” he whispered. “
Sophia
.” The name was a caress against her ear. “I love you.”

He kissed her cheek and pulled away. “I’ve been remiss in not telling you. You can’t know how I’ve regretted it. But I love you, Sophia Jane Hathaway. I love you as no man ever loved a woman. I love you so much, I fear I’ll burst with it. In fact, I think I
shall
burst if I go another minute without kissing you, so if you’ve any mind to say yes, I’d thank you to—”

Sophia flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hard at first, to quiet the fool man; then gently, to savor him. Oh, how she loved the taste of him, like freshly-baked bread and rum. Warm and wholesome and comforting, with just a hint of spice and danger. “Yes,” she sighed against his lips. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.”

His arms tightened about her waist. “Today?”

“Today. But you must let me change my gown first.” Smiling, she stroked his smooth cheek. “You even shaved.”

“Every day since we left Tortola.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I’ve a few new scars to show for it.”

“Good.” She kissed him. “I’m glad. And I don’t care if society casts us out for the pirates we are, just as long as I’m with you.”

“Oh, I don’t know that we’ll be cast out, exactly. We’re definitely not pirates. After your stirring testimony”—he chucked her under the chin— “Fitzhugh decided to make the best of an untenable situation. Or an unhangable pirate, as it were. If he couldn’t advance his career by convicting me, he figured he’d advance it by commending me. Awarded me the
Kestrel
as salvage and recommended me to the governor for a special citation of valor. There’s talk of knighthood.” He grinned. “Can you believe it? Me, a hero.”

“Of course I believe it.” She laced her fingers at the back of his neck. “I’ ve always known it, although I should curse that judge and his ‘citation of valor.’ As if you needed a fresh supply of arrogance. Just remember, what ever they deem you—gentleman or scoundrel, hero or pirate—you are
mine
.”

“So I am.” He kissed her soundly, passionately. “And which would you prefer tonight?” At the seductive growl in his voice, shivers of arousal swept down to her toes. “Your gentleman? Your scoundrel? Your hero or your pirate?”

She laughed. “I imagine I’ll enjoy all four on occasion. But tonight, I believe I shall find tremendous joy in simply calling you my husband.” He rested his forehead against hers. “My love.” “That, too.”

EPILOGUE

London, five weeks later

Sophia did not expect anyone to come calling today. They’d made their quiet arrival at Gray’s town house just a few days ago, and the only two letters she’d posted—one to her mother, the other to her sister—had thus far gone unanswered. It was too soon to hope for a reply.

Yet there Hurst stood in the doorway, a card on his salver. “A caller for you, ma’am. Lady Lucinda Trescott, the Countess of Kendall.”

“It
is
you!” Lucy angled around the manservant, pushing her way into the salon. “I heard you were back, but I couldn’t believe it until I saw for myself.”

“Lady Kendall.” Astonished, Sophia rose to her feet, as did Bel. “Allow me to introduce my sister-in-law, Miss Grayson. However did you know I was here?”

“Are we to be so formal then? Must I call you
Lady
Grayson?” With a polite nod to Bel, Lucy crossed the room and caught Sophia in an exuberant hug. “Jeremy heard word of your husband’s commendation. That’s how I knew you were here.” She surveyed Sophia from head to toe. “Now tell me, wherever have you
been?”

“To visit your cousins, actually.” Sophia’s attention shifted to the strange bump obstructing their embrace. “Lucy, you’re with child!”

Smiling, Lucy pulled Sophia’s hand against her rounded belly, placing her own hand on Sophia’s flat stomach. “And you’re not. At least, not discernibly.”

No, not discernibly
. Sophia smiled, keeping her suspicions to herself.

“Well,” Lucy said, “that will disappoint the gossips.”

At the mention of gossip, Sophia cringed. “Lucy, you shouldn’t even be here. A countess can’t be associated with such scandal.”

“Scandal? Your husband’s to be knighted. They’re making him out to be Lancelot, Robin Hood, and Lord Nelson all rolled into one. You’ll be guests of honor at every table in London.” Lucy craned her neck to peek into the corridor. “Where is this living legend, anyway?”

“Gray? He’s at his shipping office.” Sophia directed her friend to a chair. “But even if he is to receive a commendation, surely I will not be welcome at those dinner tables. I’m ruined, most thoroughly.”

“Because you broke your engagement?”

“Because I eloped with a fictional Frenchman!”

“You mean Gervais?” Lucy laughed. “Oh, no one knows about that. Your parents told everyone you’d taken ill and been sent to the seaside to recover. There may have been a few rumors to the contrary, but the fact that you fell into mad, passionate love with a heroic sea captain corroborates the tale quite nicely. You did fall into mad, passionate love with him, didn’t you?”

Sophia nodded, numb with disbelief. Could it be true? Her parents, her sister, her jilted betrothed, her friends … they had all kept her escape secret?

“Oh, I knew it!” Lucy clapped her hands. “You must tell me everything.”

“Perhaps another day.” Sophia cast a glance at Bel.

“I see,” Lucy whispered, following her gaze. “The story is that good, is it? Well, I suppose it will keep for another visit.” She gave Sophia an appraising look. “If you’ve been ruined, I must say it suits you. You look very well.”

“And breeding suits you. You are radiant.”

Lucy made a dismissive wave, but the assessment was true. While Sophia would never have called her friend a great beauty before, she merited the term now. The pregnancy rounded off Lucy’s sharp angles, and her dark-brown hair positively gleamed.

The maid entered, bearing a tray laden with tea service and refreshments.

“Isabel, would you be so good as to pour?” Sophia asked.

“Certainly.”

While the young lady busied herself with teacups, Sophia drew her chair closer to Lucy’s. “How is Toby?” she whispered. “I can’t believe he never said a word about Gervais, when he had every motive to humiliate me publicly and demand restitution. Was he horribly hurt when I left?”

“Which answer are you hoping to hear? That he has endured great agony for love of you, or that he has forgotten you already?” Lucy laid a hand over Sophia’s. “He has suffered, but I believe his pride incurred a deeper wound than his heart. Regardless, he is too good to humiliate anyone or make demands. He and Felix searched all England for you. You had us quite anxious, you know.”

Guilt pinched in Sophia’s chest. “How you all must hate me.”

Lucy squeezed her hand. “How grateful we all are to have you safely home. I’m certain your family will feel the same. How could they complain? They’ll have a title in the family now, just as they always wanted.”

Bel interrupted their conference, a teacup and saucer balanced in either hand.

“Miss Grayson,” Lucy asked, accepting her teacup, “are you to have a debut this Season?”

“Oh, no.” Bel handed the other cup to Sophia.

“Maybe you should reconsider.” Sophia perked, thinking of the possibilities. “We had thought a formal presentation imprudent,” she told Lucy, “given my situation. But if the scandal has truly been contained … Bel might look as high as she wishes. She could even marry a lord, should she so desire.”

“But I don’t want to marry a lord,” Bel protested.

“No, you don’t.” Lucy reached for a teacake. “It’s not nearly as amusing as it sounds. People have such wearying expectations. Ever since my husband took up his seat in Lords, it’s been one thing after another. I’m always being asked to subscribe to Lady Thus-and-so’ s charitable society or purchase vouchers for some benefit musicale.”

“Truly?” Bel sipped her tea, looking pensive.

“Jeremy gives me more money than I know what to do with, so naturally I support them all. But worse, people are continually asking my opinion on lofty topics … as if
I
understand tariffs or navies. I try to smile and change the subject, but they insist on assigning me a ridiculous amount of influence, simply because my husband’s stared down a few fusty members of Parliament.” Lucy took a bite of cake. “What ever you do, don’t marry a lord.”

“What interesting advice.” Bel put down her teacup.

Sophia touched Bel’s wrist. “We’re only teasing. You shall marry for love. Your brother would not have it any other way.”

“If that is so, than I doubt I shall marry at all,” Bel said. “My heart is already so full, with devotion to my family and passion for God’s work. There cannot be room for romantic love, too.”