Way of the Heart.

Cheryl Holt.

Jane Fitzsimmons never regretted being born a woman until the London shipping business she ran was cruelly snatched from her capable hands by her cold, uncompromising father. To reclaim her dream, she must marry. Only then, with her husbandas permission, may she return to the helm of Fitzsimmons Shipworks. But the only suitor who stirs her blood just happens to be the very worst scoundrel of all...

Devilishly handsome Philip Wessington seeks a wife's purse without the bother of a wife. Though cynical and mistrusting he cannot deny the need Jane arouses in him, nor the need of their agreed-upon marriage. Yet for a man who's been hurt love is not easily reformed, not even by a good and wholly desirable woman. Unless he's willing to forget the past and follow his heart...

Chapter One.

Portsmouth February, 1812.

Jane Fitzsimmons stopped to glance in the mirror, wondering when Gregory, her cousin and brother-in-law, would step through the door. She wanted to look absolutely perfect when he did. A single strand had worked loose from her carefully braided hair, and she expertly pinned it back into place.

As usual, she was harried from the morning of busy commerce, but the major accomplishment of the previous day made all the hard work enjoyable. Finally, she'd found a land-owner willing to part with some of his hardwood forest at a reasonable price. The long months of her planning had been worthwhile.

Of course, her father and Gregory had actually negotiated the arrangement, and being men, they would receive the credit for the contract. Heaven forbid that a woman should know anything about business or have a head for numbers. As always, her part in the entire affair had been carefully hidden in order not to offend the sensibilities of the seller.

But it was Jane who first realized the need for a new source of timber, Jane who located the small forest, Jane who saw the hidden value, the easy access. The price offered, shipping arrangements and the other thousands of details that would bring the beautiful logs to the Fitzsimmons' Shipworks had been her doing. Father and Gregory had simply followed her instructions and put the finishing touches on the deal.

Taking a moment to enjoy the view, Jane glanced out across the busy shipyard where dozens of men scurried about their tasks. She took note of the ships in various stages of completion. Two were nearly finished and already in the water, a half-dozen others were up on huge scaffolds as they slowly took shape.

It was a grand time to be in business, and with the hazardous state of the world, there could be no business better than shipbuilding. Everyone needed ships, it seemed. Bigger ones. Better ones. And they all turned to Fitzsimmons when they wanted the best Two centuries of building the best for England had given them a name around the globe that meant quality and durability.

Jane glanced down at the papers in her hand, looking at the figures on which she'd been working. War was spreading on the continent, and war meant people needed to buy things. Not just ships. Her plan was to start a new branch of the family business, using Fitzsimmons's ships to import and export around the globe as England grew desperate for more supplies.

The possibilities for increased wealth were staggering. She looked at her papers again. Very likely, it was a sin for one family to be able to earn so much when there were so many who had so little, but they had the knowledge and the tools. And they had worked hard for so long, no one could say they hadn't earned every penny.

The knob on the door turned, and Jane's father, Charles Fitzsimmons, stepped into her office. Jane's heart fluttered slightly. With mealtime upon them, no one was supposed to be in the rooms, which was the very reason she was waiting for Gregory. They would have their first chance to be alone in weeks.

At age fifty-six, Charles Fitzsimmons was healthy and robust but short and stocky, still carrying a full head of white hair, complemented by a bushy mustache and heavy eyebrows. His skin was red and ruddy from years at sea, trying out their ships and perfecting the working parts to make their products better and better.

"Hello, daughter." He smiled as his energy filled the room. "I thought everyone had gone."

Jane casually slid the papers she was holding under her desk blotter. Although she'd outlined the plan to Gregory, and he'd been heartily enthusiastic, she hadn't broached the subject of her ideas for expanding the business with her father and wasn't quite ready to speak of it. "Hello, Father." She walked around the desk and stood next to him. "I was too excited to eat after yesterday's news, I can't seem to take my eyes away from the 'Works."

"Aye." He nodded in agreement. "It all came together, didnat it?"

She blushed as she realized she was waiting for a compliment which would never come. It wasn't Charles's style to toss them about. " 'Twas marvelous."

He moved to the window. "It's a beautiful sight, isn't it, girl?"

"Yes." Jane sighed, as she moved next to him. "Yes, it is."

For a time, they were content to watch in silence, lost in their thoughts. They'd passed many hours like this in Jane's nineteen years. From the time she was a small girl, she'd been enchanted by her father's offices, hanging around, making herself a pest. As a widower, he'd done his best to turn her into a gently reared female, but nothing had worked. Unlike her older sister, Gertrude, who thrived on all things domestic, Jane had fought every attempt to turn her onto a more docile path until he'd simply given up on his attempts to keep her at home.

Her life, like his own, revolved around the family business.

"Everything always looks so grand from up here." "I never get my fill. The ships look so beautiful." "Yes, they do." He turned to look at her, immediately struck again by how much she looked like her mother. He had not particularly loved the woman, as he'd never give in to such a silly emotion over a female, but she'd been a good wife in the few years she'd been joined to his side. Jane took after her in looks. She was a petite thing. Although he wouldn't be so bold as to touch her now that she was a grown woman, he imagined that both his hands would fit neatly around her small waist with room to spare. The heavy braids in which her hair was bound hid its rich, chestnut color. Her lips, ruby red, always looked delightfully pouting; her brows raised in questioning surprise.

Good Lord, but she was a pretty thing. And smart as a whip, too. Too bad all the looks and talent had been squandered on a daughter. He shook his head, not able to see much for her in the future. She simply couldn't continue in her role at the Shipworks. Change was coming and long overdue.

Jane's bright, emerald green eyes widened. "What is it, Father? Is there something you wish to say?"

"No, child. I was simply thinking how much you looked like your mother."

"I'm honored. I always thought she was very pretty." It pleased her immensely when he spoke of the woman she barely remembered.

"She was, girl. She was quite exceptional." His memories of the woman were distant. She'd been a gentle woman, always even tempered and sensible. If not exactly warm to her bedroom duties, compliant enough. She'd been understanding over his love of the shipyard and the long hours he put in, and had steadfastly shouldered her responsibilities toward his other daughter, Gert, a child by his first wife. Gert had never been an easy person for anyone to like, but Jane's mother had managed to do her best.

Charles sighed. All these years of toil. All his attempts to father an heir to carry on the family name. He'd been married to his first wife for ten years, sired one daughter and lost the woman to childbirth. He'd been married to the second for eight and finally sired another daughter. After all the years, all the attempts, all he had to show for it were two girls. One who was not particularly bright and who was particularly unpleasant The other, a beautiful, delightful, intelligent young woman who could have been all things if she'd been born a male, but, because she hadn't, simply could not continue her steps toward taking his place.

He was no fool. He was older, tired, and knew it was only a matter of time before arrangements had to be made. A transition of power arranged. Jane would be so hurt.

Oh, well, she's just a woman, he thought to himself. Once she was married and had a few children clinging to her skirts, she'd forgive him for what he was about to do to her.

He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, I'd forgotten the reason I stopped in. I left my reading glasses here."

Jane had found them earlier. She reached in a drawer and pulled them out, quickly handing them over.

As soon as the door clicked behind him, she returned to the mirror, hating the fact that she was dressed in one of her usual gray day dresses. She always dressed in the most modest of clothing. Charles insisted she needn't waste money on anything else. Her hair was severely pulled behind her head, her neckline high, her sleeves long. More than a few times, she'd wished Gregory could see her in flowing skirts and delicate curls.

A light knock sounded on the door and her breath caught. Gregory! She pinched her cheeks, hoping to add a small bit of color, then said quietly, "Come in."

Gregory Fitzsimmons quickly and quietly stepped into the room, and her heart fluttered as he closed the door. He was so terribly handsome with his fine blond hair the color of wheat, his smiling blue eyes. And he was dashing in his sapphire waistcoat which exactly matched the shade of his eyes.

"Jane, my darling." He stepped forward, reaching for both her hands. Holding her at arm's length, his eyes took their fill, carefully cataloging the curved hips, the slim waist, the small breasts. He pulled her into his arms and inhaled deeply of the scent of lavender he always associated with her.

"Gregory, how I've missed you."

"And I, you, little one."

Jane's stomach was tickled by those silly butterflies that always seemed to arise whenever he touched her. "I didn't think you were coming."

"I arrived as quickly as I could." He didn't offer, and knew Jane would not ask, where he'd been, which was a good thing. They rarely discussed his marriage to Gert, and Gregory would never have admitted that he'd just come from their marital bed. After being out of town for several weeks, he'd had to get back to the business of making a babe with his wife. He desperately needed an heir to present to Charles, but his wretched wife was proving to be every bit as infertile as her mother had been. "Kiss me, Jane."

She raised her lips, and the familiar tingle started in her fingers and toes. As his lips chastely met hers, she instantly felt the heavy swelling in her breasts and the odd stirring in the woman's place between her legs. Her body was waiting for so much more, needing so much more to happen. Each blissful encounter left her feeling increasingly unsatisfied. Desperately, she wished that, instead of an uninitiated, timid virgin, she was an experienced woman of the world who knew the ways to lead Gregory to greater heights of passion.

"Oh, Jane," he whispered, "I want you so much. I'll the if I don't have you soon." He'd wanted her so badly, and for so long, that the pain was nearly unbearable. "Tell me you've made up your mind and my wait is ended."

Jane had had enough conversation with her friend, Elizabeth Carew, to understand what it was Gregory wanted from her, but from the woman's frigid descriptions of coupling, she wondered if she should give in to Gregory's desires and let him take her maidenhead. Somehow, she doubted the ultimate act would extinguish the fire burning in her veins. But he wanted it to happen so much.

"I love you, Gregory."

"I love you, too, darling," he responded with what sounded like sorely tried patience.

Jane frowned and buried her face in his chest. She hated to continually disappoint him, but couldn't make up her mind to give herself to him. Putting off the decision yet again, she raised her face and found his lips. Her attention was so wrapped up in him that she di not hear the opening of her office door. Di not see her father standing there, watching. Was not aware of anything but Gregory until she heard her father clear his throat.

Guiltily, the pair of lovers jumped apart. In the ensuing silence, Charles Fitzsimmons stared them down. Once they were completely cowed, he said quietly, "I came back to remind Jane that we would be having a late supper tonight. I have business which will detain me. I see it's a good thing 1 returned when I di."

"Sir, if you'll permit me . . ." Gregory made an attempt to mollify him.

"No. I will not. If you will excuse us, I wish to speak with Jane alone."

"It's all my fault, sir. I take full responsibility."

"As well you should, young man. Jane has barely left her girlhood behind. You are a man full grown. Now leave us."

Jane looked at the floor, listening to the click of the door. In the silence, she finally raised her eyes to meet her father's unrelenting stare. "I'm sorry, Father," she whispered quietly. "I am so ashamed."

"I should hope so, because I can't remember being so disappointed in someone in all my born days."

His words slashed liked a knife, and she looked back at the floor. "I'm sorry," she offered again, feebly.

"How long has this been going on?"

Jane thought about lying, but figured he would learn the truth from Gregory. "For the past year, sir."

"Are you still a maid?"

God, that he would have to ask such a thing. "Yes, sir."

"I am most upset. Look at me, daughter." Jane raised her eyes. ' 'You will go home at once. To your room and stay there. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

' 'You will join the family for supper, and then you and I will speak of this again in the library after our evening meal is concluded."

"I will be there."

Charles left her standing there, alone in the quiet.

Charles took a last bite of his evening meal and leaned back in his chair, surveying the dining room from the head of the family table. His eldest daughter, Gert, sat on his right next to her husband. Jane sat on his left. As always, he took a moment to ponder how two different mothers could produce such incredibly different children.

Gert was a thoroughly unpleasant person, unhappy with her lot in life. Even as a child, her sour disposition had colored all their lives. Her frigid disposition was so distasteful that he could hardly fault Gregory for turning to Jane for affection.

Looking at his other daughter, he admitted that only a fool would fail to be attracted to Jane. She was pretty in a fresh, young way that wasn't fading as she aged. Her beauty seemed to grow with each passing year as her body adapted to its womanly shape. At fourteen years, she'd been like an ungainly colt trying to steady its balance. At nineteen, she was gracious and lovely. Her nature was kind and pleasant. She found joy in her work and was one of those lucky people who embraced life with open arms, ready to do battle and to succeed with all challenges placed in her path.

Oh, if she had only been born a boy!

Charles shook his head. The familiar lament had traveled through his head thousands of times. There simply was no reason to rehash the unfairness of it. She was a daughter, and he could do nothing about it except to avert the coming disaster.

The others had finished their meal. It had been a long, silent, tenuous affair. He cleared his throat and looked at Gert, then Jane. "If you will excuse us, ladies, Gregory and I will have our port."

"Certainly, Father," Gert said obediently and rose. Jane followed her from the room, not casting her eyes at either man. As she reached the door, Charles said to her back, "Jane, I need to speak with you when I've finished with Gregory. Please wait in the library."

"Yes, sir," she murmured as she stepped into the hall.

Charles cut off Gregory before he could make any more lame excuses. "I have made arrangements for Jane. She will be leaving us shortly. I will have your word on one thing."

"Anything, sir. You have but to ask."

"You must promise me that you will not be alone with her between now and the day she leaves. I'll have no last-minute lovers' trysts. Am I clear on this?"

"Certainly, sir."

"She swears she is still a maid. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir." Gregory had the sense to color slightly at having his father-in-law ask such an intimate question.

"Her innocence has great value for me in what I'm about to do, and I'll not have it jeopardized because of your behavior. You've caused enough trouble. I'll have no more." Gregory looked so forlorn, he decided to have pity on the young man. Over the years, he'd had his doubts about Gregory, but his son-in-law was growing more useful all the time. Especially now that he'd come up with the idea for expanding into the import-export markets. It was a grand scheme, and frankly, Charles was quite surprised that Gregory had thought of such an outrageous, wonderful idea. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

He leaned back, his worry lines slackening, and smiled. "So how are your attempts at starting your family? Any news to report?"

"Nothing, sir. I'm trying my best."

"Try harder. I want that grandson."

With that, Charles rose and left Gregory to drink his port alone. 'Twas time to end Jane's suspense.

She stood when her father entered. Although he'd never been a violent man, she feared now what he might do. If he beat her, she could hardly complain that it wasn't deserved. She couldn't imagine what other punishment he could possibly have in mind for her.

"Sit, daughter." He moved to his chair behind the big desk and motioned to her to sit across from him. Unlocking the top drawer, he pulled out the papers his solicitor had delivered earlier in the evening. Jane was pale and quiet, awaiting his verdict, her hands folded in her lap. Surely, she'd never imagined this.

"I could spend a great deal of time talking about how upset I am by the state of things, how disappointed I am by your behavior, and how ashamed I am to see how you've acted. But, since I'm sure you already know all those things, I leave my words to your imagination. I'm sure you know what I would say were I to lecture you about your conduct."

"You're right, Father. I already know everything you would say to me." She hoped she was looking contrite enough to suit him. Although she hated being caught, she hated more the thought that it would now be so much more difficult to arrange meetings with Gregory. She loved him so much. "Once again, I do want to say how sorry I am."

"Save the regrets, daughter. Let me continue." He opened the folder. "I have decided that it is time for you to marry."

Jane let out a shocked gasp. "Father, you can't be serious."

"I've never been more serious. If you are interested enough in men to cavort with Gregory in your office, you are certainly ready for marriage and what it brings."