She wanted to ask him what he meant, but she didn’t. Maybe because she was afraid.
The day before they were scheduled to reach Boston Harbor was a rainy one, so Blake and Sapphire spent it alone in their cozy cabin, reading, sometimes aloud to each other, making love and just talking. It was late afternoon and Sapphire lay on the bed in only her shirt, which was so long that it hung past her hips. She rested on her side, reading one of Blake’s books by a James Fennimore Cooper called The Prairie. She was enjoying it a great deal as it gave a fascinating look at America and the adventures it had to offer.
But Sapphire was bored of reading, bored of being cooped up in the cabin all day, and was a little anxious about arriving in Boston tomorrow. She and Blake had not talked about what would happen when they got there. He’d promised he would send her back to England, so she’d considered staying a few days, perhaps a week or so. He’d talked so much about Boston and New York that Sapphire was curious about both cities and saw no reason why she shouldn’t see them after coming such a long way. But they needed to discuss the fact that she had no intention of being his mistress, no matter how much she enjoyed his company in or out of bed.
She laid the book down on the bed and looked at Blake. He was reading with one bare foot propped on the desk. A breeze came through the porthole and ruffled the hair around his face, giving him a relaxed, almost carefree appearance.
Sapphire realized that she hadn’t brought the subject up because she didn’t want to fight with him. At least for a little while. For a short time it had just been the two them and this cabin, this ship, their books, their laughter and their lovemaking. But time could not stand still and nothing that had taken place in this bed could change who she was. Or who she was determined to be.
“Blake,” she said.
He continued to read.
“Blake,” she repeated a little louder.
“Yes?”
“Blake, I need to talk to you.”
He must have noticed the seriousness of her tone because he sighed and slowly closed the book. “Yes?”
“I want you to come here.” She patted the bed. “Sit with me.”
“I’d rather stay here,” he said stubbornly.
Still lying on her side, her head propped up by one hand, she patted the bed again.
Another sigh ensued as Blake slowly rose and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked at the door, not at her.
“We need to talk about what’s going to happen when we get off the boat tomorrow.”
“We’re going to my home. I think you’ll like it. It’s built on the shore with an amazing view. I told you many of the rooms are not yet furnished, but I was hoping you might help me with that. I just have the time to consider what a room needs and then—”
She laid her hand on his forearm, his dark hairs teasing her palm. “Blake, you know I’m not talking about the house. I’m talking about me. You. You know I cannot be your mistress.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
This time, it was Sapphire who sighed. She withdrew her hand from him and lay back on the bunk. “Both,” she said, imitating Blake’s method of speaking slowly, taking time to decide exactly what she would say. “I am Lord Wessex’s only child, the daughter of Edward and Sophie Thixton. I can be no man’s whore.”
He frowned, rising from the bunk, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “You know, you don’t need to do this. I know you’re a bright woman, Sapphire. Clever. Amusing. A bit of an entrepreneur yourself.” He began to pace between the door and the bunk. “But this claim of yours is not going to work with me. In fact, it angers me. It angers me that no matter what I offer you, you say it’s not enough. You’re greedy.”
“I am not greedy,” she said, trying to control her emotions. She stared at the low ceiling as she listened to him pace. “I only ask for what is mine. All I ask is that you acknowledge the truth.”
“And all I ask is that you tell the truth.”
She fought the urge to snap at him; anger had gotten her nowhere with Blake Thixton. She needed to remain as calm as he was. “When we disembark tomorrow, I’ll need clothing fit for a woman of my station,” she instructed. “Once we arrive at your home, where I will sleep in a room separate from yours, we can discuss this matter further.”
“Fine,” he said.
She rolled onto her side to look at him. “Fine?”
“Fine.” He opened the door. “I’m going topside for some air.”
She glanced at the porthole left slightly ajar and it was wet. “It’s still raining out.”
“I’ll be back in a little while.”
Sapphire wanted to go with him, but instead she just rolled onto her back again and listened to the retreat of his footsteps down the passageway. Listened, and refused to let herself cry.