Stephanie Laurens - The Lady's Command

When he heard Humphrey’s heavy tread cross the front hall, then Edwina’s voice greeting the butler as she swept into the house, Declan drew in a deep breath and walked to the door. He opened it and looked out.

Edwina saw him and halted.

Going forward, he reached for her hand. “If you have a moment, my dear, I have some news.”

She surrendered her hand. Her eyes searched his face. Whatever she saw there sobered her. “Yes, of course.” She handed her bonnet to Humphrey and allowed Declan to usher her into the library.

After shutting the door behind them, he led her to the space before the fireplace. Unable to resist, he drew her to him and bent his head for a kiss. Stretching up, she met him in her usual eager fashion. She tasted of honey-cakes…

Before the engagement could spin out of hand, he broke the caress, then released her and waved her to the small sofa facing the hearth.

She glanced at his face, then, in a rustle of silk skirts, complied. He remained standing to one side of the hearth—instinctively assuming the stance of a captain addressing his crew. He was conscious of the nuance, but as the stance gave him confidence that he knew what he was doing and would accomplish the task before him, he pushed the question of its appropriateness from his mind.

She sank onto the sofa and locked her gaze on his face. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What is it?”

He’d debated how to phrase his news and had decided that brevity would serve them best. “I’ve been called on to do a short run to the capital of the West African settlements. It won’t take long—I’ll only be away for a few weeks—but for business reasons, the voyage has to be made immediately. None of my brothers or cousins is available. They’re at sea and not due back in time or, in Royd’s case, unable to set sail due to other commitments.”

For several silent seconds, she stared up at him. Then in a perfectly equable tone, she asked, “How dangerous is this voyage likely to be?”

“Not dangerous at all—or, at most, only minimally so.” Given his orders to cut and run the instant he learned anything, he couldn’t imagine he would face any real danger. He didn’t want her worrying. He summoned a reassuring smile. “I’ll be home safe and sound before you know it.”

“On that route, is the weather favorable at this time of year?”

“Generally speaking, yes. I don’t expect to run into any storms.”

Again, she stared at him as several seconds ticked by. Finally, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on his face, she stated, “In that case, I should like to accompany you.”

His mind seized. His wits froze. Blindsided—knocked entirely out of kilter—he simply stared down at her.

Apparently not noticing his stunned state, she blithely rattled on, “Given we’ve accomplished the most important goal we came to London to achieve, and as all else here is running smoothly, there’s really no reason I need to remain in town over the next weeks.” Her eyes warmed and her lips curved with eager enthusiasm. “And I would so like to sail with you—to see the world by your side.”

He finally managed to find his tongue. “No.”

She blinked, then clouds gathered in her sunny blue eyes and a frown drew down her brows. “Why not? Is there some reason you haven’t yet told me that makes it inadmissible for me to travel with you?”

Yes. He opened his mouth, then shut it. He couldn’t tell her any details. She moved in circles that might easily include connections of the Holbrooks, Decker, or Eldridge; one loose word and she might unwittingly place him and his crew in danger—a danger they would not otherwise face. He couldn’t tell her about his mission, and he certainly couldn’t take her with him. Lord above! He’d only just recognized how incredibly precious to him she now was, how central to his future life, to his future happiness, and she wanted to accompany him on a flying visit to one of the roughest settlements in the empire?

“No—or rather, yes.” He resisted the urge to rake his fingers through his hair. “There are any number of reasons that make it impossible for you to sail with me.” His tone made the declaration unequivocal. “And I’m sorry, but I can’t explain. It’s entirely untenable for you to travel with me in this instance.” Probably in any instance; he rarely traveled but for business, and his business was rarely without some risk.

Indeed, sailing on the high seas was never devoid of risk. Ships wrecked. He might survive, but she was so small and weak, he doubted she would.

Edwina’s heart sank, but she told herself that this obstacle had always been lurking somewhere along their path. She’d already decided that it was time to move forward, time to focus on establishing the daily ins and outs of how their marriage would work. Here was her first challenge. They would have come to this at some point; there would always have been a first time for her to convince him to take her sailing with him.

That said, she hadn’t expected this particular hurdle to appear quite so soon. Clasping her hands in her lap, she fixed her gaze on his face. “Declan, I realize we haven’t specifically discussed this, but I knew you spent at least half the year on your ship when I accepted your proposal. I married you in the full expectation that however many months you spent on the waves, I would be able to spend, if not all of those months, then at least the majority of them by your side, on the deck of your ship.”

She couldn’t be sure but she thought his eyes widened; it seemed her revelation had come as a surprise. Yet surely he hadn’t imagined that she was the type of lady to remain snug and safe at home by the fire, oblivious to whatever dangers or threats he might be facing halfway around the world?

She fought to stifle a snort.

Studying his expression, she frowned more definitely. “You cannot possibly be surprised by that. By the notion that I want to be a part of your life—all of it—rather than being relegated only to the land-based part.” Leaning forward, she made her eyes, her whole expression, as beseeching as she could. “Please, Declan. I would so like to go on your ship and sail the seas with you.”

For a moment, he held her gaze, then his chest swelled as he drew in a deep breath. For one instant, she hoped… But then his chin firmed; she saw his jaw harden.

“I have to admit that I did not quite appreciate your interest in sailing. If you like, I’ll take you on The Cormorant , perhaps to Amsterdam, and then down the coast of France and Spain and into the Mediterranean when I return from this trip.”

She considered the offer—clearly an olive branch of sorts—for half a minute before firming her own chin. “I would enjoy such a trip, but it fails to address the issue before us, which is that I wish to, and expect to, share all of your life and not just some of it.”

He held her gaze; the sky blue of his eyes seemed somehow flatter, less alive—less open, his emotions screened. “I cannot, and will not, take you on this particular voyage.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So I am to be allowed to share some of your life—the parts you deem appropriate—but I am to be excluded from those business ventures, those adventures, you wish to keep private, to yourself.”

She paused to give him a chance to respond, but although his nostrils pinched as he drew in a long breath, he refused the unstated invitation to correct her.

Taking that as a sign—a negative one—she evenly continued, “I have already stated that such boundaries are not what I expected in our marriage—one I wish to be based firmly on the concept of shared enterprise. As I understand your mother has always sailed with your father, I had not realized that you might think I would be happy being left at home.”