seen in our port.”
She knew she was being sarcastic, but she couldn’t seem to help it. When she thought of how long she might have gone on waiting for this man, how many more years, when he had never intended to return to her! If she hadn’t come here herself, she likely would never have seen or heard from him again. She was hurt, she didn’t understand his reasoning, and he wouldn’t even look at her.
“I did write you a letter.”
Georgina knew it for the lie it was, a sop for herpride, the coward’s way out for him. Little did he know that her pride had been sacrificed long ago in order for her to have him. It wasn’t likely to rear its head now just because he was handing her a passel of excuses that wouldn’t hold up under close examination. For God’s sake, she had come up with better excuses than this for him.
She didn’t get angry, though she was very, very disappointed in him. So he wasn’t perfect, wasn’t considerate or even totally honest. She’d backed him into a corner, and he was trying not to hurt her feelings with the callous truth. In a roundabout way she could count that in his favor, she supposed.
“Obviously, Malcolm, your letter never reached me.” She heard Mac snort and could have kicked him. “I assume you wrote that you had survived the war?”
“Aye.”
“And likely you mentioned your newly discovered patriotism for a country other than my own?”
“Indeed I did.”
“And in consideration of that, did you release me from our engagement?”
“Well, I…”
She cut in at his hesitation, “Or did you express the hope that I would still have you?”
“Well, certainly—”
“And then you assumed I wouldn’t when you had no answer from me.”
“Exactly so.”
Georgina sighed. “It’s a shame that letter never reached me. So much time wasted.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t look so surprised, Malcolm. I’ll still marry you. It’s why I came here, after all. Just don’t expect me to live in England. That I won’t do even for you. But you can come here as often as you like. As captain of my ship, the Amphitrite , you can solicit English trade exclusively if that is your wont.”
“I—I…Jesus, Georgie…I—”
“Malcolm?” A young woman appeared to interrupt him. “Why didn’t you tell me we had callers?” and to Georgina with an open smile, “I’m Meg Cameron, ma’am. Are you from the manor, then? Having another party, are they?”
Georgina stared at the woman in the doorway, then at the boy shyly hiding behind her skirt, a boy about five years old, with Malcolm’s dark hair, Malcolm’s blue eyes, and Malcolm’s handsome features. She spared another glance for the boy’s father, who looked decidedly ill.
“Your sister, Malcolm?” Georgina asked in the most pleasant of tones.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Chapter Six
N o goodbye. No good wishes. Not even a go-to-hell. Georgina simply turned and walked out of the little white cottage in Hendon, leaving her hopes and girlish dreams behind. She could hear Mac saying something, probably making an excuse to Meg Cameron for Georgina’s rudeness. Then he was there at her back and giving her a lift up onto the rented nag.
He didn’t say a word to her, at least not until they’d left the village behind. She’d tried to get some speed out of her animal, the urge to be miles away as quickly as possible gnawing at her, but the sorry creature wouldn’t oblige. And a fast walk gave Mac plenty of time to study her and see through her calm facade. One thing about Mac, he had an annoying habit of being blunt when you least wanted bluntness.
“Why are ye no’ crying, lass?”
She thought about ignoring him. He wouldn’t press her if she did. But what was rolling around inside her needed letting out.
“I’m too angry right now. That double-dammed scoundrel must have married that woman on his very first docking, long before the war ended. No wonder he became pro-British. He
Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller]