"It is a tempting offer, one I'm flattered to receive."

"Well then?"

"But my answer is...no. I cannot accept this commission."

Hope's mouth dropped open and Bennett stared at him.

"Perhaps you need more time to think things through. It would be an ideal position." His gaze flicked to Huntley's leg. "Oh, I see." His already pink cheeks gained more color.

"My decision isn't based on my lameness, but other considerations."

Huntley's eyes met Hope's. She stared into their aching blue depths and glimpsed a tenderness there which shocked her. Unable to look away, her chest seemed locked in iron bands. Emotion welled to the surface as she fought back tears.

"Is there anything I can say to change your mind?" Bennett said.

"No, nothing."

Huntley spoke softly to Hope, as if forgetting Bennett was in the room.

"All my life I've sought to fill a void at the centre of my being-fill it with adventure and danger, anything to make me feel alive. But I've changed. The contentment I seek isn't found in activity, but in the company of the right woman. And you, Hope Tyler, are that woman."

Bennett cleared his throat. "Perhaps, sir, it's best if I leave now."

Neither Hope nor Huntley saw him go as Bennett discretely left the room.

"Hush," she insisted, "don't say any more." Fear rushed through her blood lest she let herself hope for no reason. "I am honored but what if I'm not enough for you?" Her head pounded. She wanted to throw herself into his arms but she held back, struck by the notion that in the future he would resent her for stealing his life of adventure.

Huntley stared at her long and hard, and for a moment she wondered if she'd displeased him.

"Hope, deep down, I haven't been happy for years. All the noise and activity was just to cover the yawning gap in my life. The thing was, until I met you, I didn't even know what I was doing, but I daren't stop in case I had to face how unhappy I really was."

Hope swallowed hard.

"My eyes have been opened. I want different things now. The thought of being away at sea for months rings hollow. I want home and hearth, a wife and children. d.i.c.kens is old and Charles shows no interest in the estate. I was chasing shadows, trying to right great wrongs when there is enough to be done here, to make life better for the tenants. If Charles agrees, then I could think of nothing better than to live here with you as my wife, and run the estate, but that all depends on your answer."

They had eyes only for each other. Huntley pushed aside his rug, and made his way stiffly to Hope's side. He took her hand in his and pressed a kiss against the palm. Warmth and heat flooded up her arm. Crouching beside her he rested his head in her lap.

"Hope Tyler, I love you. Once, I asked you to marry me and you turned me down. Might I dare think that if I asked again, you might reconsider?"

In a state of shock, Hope sat frozen. Absentmindedly, she reached out to stroke his hair. Such feelings filled her...that such a man...so n.o.ble and strong...desired her. She felt inadequate. Could she live up to his expectations, perhaps the chase was better than the capture? But then words burst through and before she knew they had come out of her mouth.

"Well, we won't know unless you ask me."

Clearing his throat, and with great dignity, Huntley knelt and took her hand at the precise moment the parlor door opened, and Lady Constance breezed in.

"Oh, Hope dear...I thought George was with you...Oh!"

"h.e.l.lo Mother." Huntley looked up warily.

"I say George, what are you doing down there? Are you quite alright?"

"Yes, Mother," he said through gritted teeth, " I was on the point of proposing to Hope, when we were interrupted."

"Oh, I say. Best I leave you to it." She hesitated. "You do know it's awfully warm in here, don't you?"

"So we've been told."

"Alright then dear, carry on." Unless her eyes deceived her, Hope could have sworn Lady Constance winked.

"Now, where was I?" Like a bird settling down its ruffled feathers, Huntley gave a little shake. "Ah yes, Hope Tyler, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

"Well, seeing as you put it so very nicely...yes!"

For a moment neither moved. And then they laughed. Pressing their foreheads together, great rippling gales of laughter erupted between them. Huntley kissed her cheek. She smiled through the mist of joy, and leaned forward to kiss away the tears which glistened on his own cheeks. They tasted salty, of man, and a long suppressed longing woke within her. A tension between them pulled them closer until his breath tickled her lips. She sighed with relief as he kissed her, such a deep need within that everything else was forgotten as she tasted his pa.s.sion for her. His tongue swept her lips, igniting fire in her belly. He filled her senses with the scent of his masculine musk, of the comfort and strength.

"I love you, George Huntley." She murmured.

"I love you too."

Caressing her face, stroking her hair, smoothing a curl from her forehead, he kissed the tip of her nose, her eyelids and her forehead. He groaned.

"It is going to be difficult to keep my promise not to touch you until our wedding night."

Hope flushed, a surge of hot desire swamping her body, making her knees weak. It would indeed be difficult to stick to her resolve.

"And I love you all the more for it."

His eyes glowed dark with pa.s.sion as his lips found hers-hot, wet and demanding. Her blood surged with a new beat, lost in the enchantment of his closeness. Her hand cupped behind his neck. Thrilling as he quivered beneath her touch, and when the door opened, neither of them heard it.

"One last thing George, while I think about it. Oh!" Lady Constance flushed scarlet. "Oh my dears. Do I take it Hope said yes?"

"Yes, Mother," George looked up darkly. "She did indeed."

"Well hurrah for that. I thought you two would never see sense."

Whatever misgivings Hope might have had about not being good enough for Huntley, were swiftly put aside by Lady Ryevale's delighted reaction .

"This is the best news, quite wonderful." She strode over and threw her arms around the couple, embracing first one and then the other. "Now all I need is for Charles to settle down and everything will be perfect."

"I'm so pleased you are happy, Mother. And the best is yet to come."

"What?" She looked at him quizzically.

"Tell her." Hope prompted.

"If it's not putting Charles's nose out of joint, I shall help d.i.c.kens run the estate, and in due course, take over from him."

"But that is doubly wonderful news!" Lady Constance's face broke into a broad smile, wrinkles framing her eyes while she looked much younger. "It's what I've been hoping for. At last I can relinquish all that worry and responsibility. I shall move into the dower house and perhaps Hope can help me choose a suitable companion."

Chapter 21.

Their wedding day dawned with a bone-white sky and ground sparkling with frost; it was as if the world had been gilded with silver for the occasion. The weeks since she'd accepted Huntley had flashed past, and now the day was here. Hope had slept little and woken early. With no mother to advise her, she fretted over the wedding night. What was expected of her? Would she know what to do? Hope had thought of asking Lady Ryevale, but that didn't feel right. In the end, she opted for ignorance and the vague hunch that an activity akin to a ram tupping a ewe would take place.

"Hope, dear, you look beautiful. Stunning." Her face beaming with pleasure, Her Ladyship held out her hands. "Are you ready, my dear? It's time to go."

The carriage rattled through the countryside Hope had come to love so much, and a short time later drew up outside Sandehope Parish church. Hope leaned forward and rested a gloved hand against the window. The lych-gate was decorated with white ribbons and yellow winter jasmine. Thomas Tyler stood proud as a peac.o.c.k, waiting to hand her down. Hope's throat closed over, at a loss for words. Never had she seen her stepbrother look so smart. In new clothes he looked quite the country gentleman; the jacket cut with a velvet collar, a white rose in the b.u.t.tonhole, and his hair, much like Jasper's, had been brushed until it shone.

"Hope?" He bowed and offered his elbow. "You look beautiful, you do."

She beamed, still at a loss for words.

"Ready, dear?" Lady Ryevale lifted Hope's veil, and at her nod, arranged the lace carefully over her face. "There now. You are ready."

After Hope alighted, came Lady Ryevale, resplendent in a gown of quilted satin. Then, yapping, asking to be lifted down, came Jasper. Once on the ground, the dog fussed around their ankles, a large satin bow tied on his collar. Given the winter weather, Hope wore a pelisse trimmed with swan's down on top of her silk bridal gown. She wore a circlet of seash.e.l.ls in her hair, anchoring the veil in place while she wore her hair long, in a dark curtain down her back.

As Hope entered the church, she was surprised at how full it was. An old stone building, in parts dating back to Norman times, the nave a riot of colour from the bonnets and gowns of the a.s.sembled well-wishers. As the organ struck up, people turned to stare, all smiles and grins. Hope recognised many from Sandehope and environs, and some had even travelled from the Island. It seemed once folk had got over the initial surprise, the match was a popular one, for people recognised that Hope taming the Captain sufficiently to take over the estate, was beneficial to laborer and farmer worker alike. If there was one cloud over Hope's day, it was that her father was bedbound, but he had given her his wholehearted blessing and sent Tom in his place to give her away.

Sliding her arm through Tom's as the organ music rose into a swell, Hope walked down the aisle. Being winter, swags of holly with red berries, and sheaves of mistletoe decorated the columns, as well as the bouquet of winter jasmine Hope gripped as if her life depended on it. The music carried her forward, as she forgot her nerves and let it echo deep through her soul. Jasper padded with great dignity behind her, wagging his tail as if the congregation was there to admire him and not the bride.

Ahead of her was the broad back and wide shoulders of Captain George Huntley, with Jack to his side. Hope smiled to herself. First, George had asked Charles to be best man, but such was his elder brother's fear of matrimony, that he had declined on the grounds it was an inst.i.tution he intended to avoid at all costs-and deferred that honor to Jack. The two brothers stood shoulder to shoulder; both tall, broad and muscular. But it was only George Hope saw. His heroics on the beach had set back his recovery, making it painful for him to stand for any length of time, and yet his pride precluded him from using a stick on his wedding day. A fresh wave of love threatened to overwhelm Hope as her heart swelled with emotion.

She pa.s.sed rows of pews, and Hope saw Mrs Locke the needlewoman who had measured her for her first gown, and Doctor Joseph, who had served George so well, and then some of the Revenue men. Her heart, which was already beating fit to burst, nearly exploded as she recognised Bennett and fellow officers, smiling warmly and bowing their heads in respect. For George's sake, it meant so much that they had accepted her.

In the front pew she spotted Eulogy, who looked stunning after her recent confinement. Motherhood suited her as she cradled a sleeping baby swathed in a cashmere shawl, his face all wrinkled and pink. In an elegant gown of winter green, with her trademark white rose in her lapel, Eulogy Huntley greeted her soon-to-be sister-in-law with a broad smile and a wink.

As she approached the altar, George's broad shoulder twitched as if sensitive to her presence. A shiver of pure pleasure shimmied through her. That this man was to be her husband was beyond her comprehension, and yet it was true.

The vicar cleared his throat and spoke in a singsong voice. She wasn't aware of the individual words, more of the import of what he was saying with the serious tone and hush at her back. It came time to exchange vows and George turned to face her, his blue eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with possessiveness and love. As he shifted his weight, a brief glimpse of pain flashed across his face and then was gone. She read his expression, and knowing he'd masked his discomfort to spare her worry on this their wedding day, never had she loved him more. Softly he took her hand, staring into her eyes as he repeated his vows. Then it was her turn. Her voice sounded small and quiet even to her ears. If anything, the church grew quieter so her words could be heard.

Then George was placing the gold band on her ring finger, squeezing her hand in rea.s.surance. With reverence he lifted her veil and stared in wonder. His face crumpled with emotion as he leaned forward and kissed the bride. At the touch of his warm, velvet lips all else was forgotten-the church, the congregation, the occasion-all lost beside the knowledge that George Huntley was now her husband and Hope's cheeks ached from smiling.

The ceremony over, she took George's arm as the organ struck up again. A look of understanding pa.s.sed between them as she took his weight, a.s.sisting him to walk the length of the aisle without limping. Outside, the church bells peeled, taking Hope by surprise. As they exited the porch, they emerged into winter sunlight, dappled with the first flurry of snowflakes eddying around them like confetti.

The good people of Sandeford had braved the chill weather, and stood in their Sunday best to cheer and clap, as the newlyweds made their way to the bridal carriage. It brought a lump to her throat as Hope spotted some of the fisher folk from the Island, who had braved the bad weather to wish her well. Her happiness knew no bounds. Truly, she was the happiest woman alive, even if she was nervous about the wedding night.

Later, after the last of the wedding guests had taken their leave from The Grange, merry from wine and good cheer, and the last of the carriages finally drew away, Hope stood alone with her husband for the first time. A tremor of antic.i.p.ation thrummed through her. Now they were married. She was his, to do with what he would. Excitement and anxiety trickled through her mind. He was a man of the world, had traveled widely and was no doubt experienced in bed. What if she was a disappointment to him? A door which had been closed on a mysterious part of married life, now stood ajar.

"Hope." George took her hands in his. "Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Without moving his eyes from hers, he kissed her fingertips one by one. "How I've waited for the moment when we would be alone." Through the lace of her gloves she felt the warmth of his breath, saw the heat in his gaze-and trembled.

"There is nothing to fear." He said as if reading her mind, and smiling softly, tucked her hand through his. "You must be tired, let us retire for the night."

Dry mouthed, Hope nodded. It was as if all the staff had magically disappeared as George led her up the curved master staircase. At first she was puzzled as he led her, not to his own room as she had expected, but to anther set of double doors that she'd never before.

"I thought it right we start married life in the master bedroom." With his arm around her waist, he guided her inside and locked the door.

She gazed around in wonder. If she had thought the bedchamber allocated her by Lady Ryevale was luxurious, it was nothing compared to this room. Floor standing candelabra as tall as a man, stood bright with wax candles, throwing their merry orange light dancing up the walls and rippling across heavy velvet drapes.

"Of course, if the decoration is not to your taste, you must change it."

A slow steady pulse beat at the base of her throat as Hope glimpsed the large four-poster bed and everything else was forgotten. Bigger, wider and higher than anything she had ever seen before. Intimidating.

George saw her hesitate and wrapped his arms around her. "No need to fear, chick. We have a lifetime ahead of us. If you want, we can just sleep."

So overawed, Hope could neither agree nor disagree but stood there speechless. Suddenly it struck her how she didn't belong in this world, that she was an imposter, born on the wrong side of the sheets. At that moment, she felt small and insignificant and wished, more than anything, that her path had never crossed with that of Captain Huntley. That he had never set eyes on her and continued in his own sphere and found a woman of worthy social standing. She looked away, her eyes filling with tears.

"I don't deserve you, George Huntley."

"Well like it or not you're stuck with me. Come." He said gently, leading her toward the object of her apprehension. "Tis just wedding night nerves."

She hung back, questions racing through her mind. If the marriage was not consummated, it could be annulled and George would still be free. It was not too late. It would break her heart, but this was wrong. Whatever had she been thinking that she could have ever imagined joining the Captain's world. With deep sorrow, she knew what she must do-or rather not do-and hung back.

"Hope, come. Let us sleep together. I shall make no demands on you tonight." He released her hand and hobbled toward the bed. Suddenly, he didn't seem the excited groom, but tired, sore, and in pain. His face took on a new tension as his bit his lip. The old reflex action of rubbing his bad leg came back, as with a weary movement, he took the steps up onto the high mattress.

"I'm sorry, Hope." His brow furrowed in pain. "This isn't what I envisioned for our wedding night." He collapsed back against the pillows. With a gasp, Hope realised he was breathing heavily and not from pa.s.sion.

"Oh, you poor man. Does it hurt so very much?"

Forgetting her apprehension, she climbed up beside him. "What can I do to ease the pain?" Biting his lips, he shook his head. "Nothing. This will pa.s.s. It's standing so long that's done it."

"Oh, how selfish of me. I should have realised."

"On your wedding day?"

Helpless, Hope sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he wriggled, trying to get comfortable. Hesitant, she reached out and stroked his forehead. With a soft, gentle caress, she stroked the dark hair back from his forehead. With a groan, he shifted onto his back.

"That's nice." His eyelids fluttered and closed, his breathing grew easier, taking on the rhythm of her hand. "Very soothing." Without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. He lay still, his chest rising and falling steadily. Hope grew bolder, climbing onto her knees, fluttering kisses against his cheek. He smiled softly.

"That helps as well."

Hope grinned. Perhaps there wasn't so much to be frightened of after all. With George lying pa.s.sive on the bed and her above him, he didn't seem so very intimidating-quite the opposite in fact. Stretched out and at her mercy, her curiosity peeked. It occurred to her she could make her new husband more comfortable by loosening his jacket. With nimble fingers, she undid the b.u.t.tons. He didn't resist.

"There." She said with satisfaction. His eyes had closed and tension eased from his features.

"I believe you're onto something there." He sighed. "That feels better already."

Wishing to please, with tentative fingers she loosened the stock from around his neck. She watched his expression closely, but he didn't react, just lie back looking like the cat who had got the cream.

"Would you be more comfortable without it?" She asked.

"Much."