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—
Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)
Tessa Dare's books
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