ugh experience with men to know what I wanted before. And now, now that I will have that chance, I'm certain I will find someone who'd be better for me. No, we won't marry."
His hands knotted into fists. "You wouldn't have a choice. Do you think you're my ideal bride? I assure you you're not, but I'd marry you to spare our child any unnecessary hurt."
Oh, she knew very well that she wasn't his ideal bride. She was a mistake. Before she began crying, she said, "No."
"No, what?"
"I'm not with child."
He sat staring at her, his eyes dark and...hurting? "Very well, Victoria." He exhaled a long breath. "I wanted to make sure."
"There's no child. When we get to England, we can go our separate ways."
Grant turned back to her one last time before he left, confusion plain on his face. She ignored the pain in her heart and told herself for the hundredth time that it was for the best.
Twenty
Tori stood on the bow of the Keveral, her excitement at seeing London dimming as the city's mist settled into droplets on her coat. She sighed at her dismal surroundings, breathing in dank air that tasted like soot, surely from the tall chimneys on the horizon choking up black smoke.
"So this is what all the fuss was about," she said loud enough for Grant to hear. He stood close by on the bow, and she told herself it was to pine near her. Not to oversee the steam tug towing them up the Thames.
She thought she saw him flush. The port was not showing well. With a pointed look at the thick, cloying refuse in the Thames audibly knocking about the sides of the ship, she said, "And to think I might have missed this, if not for you."
Grant scowled at her and stalked off to give instructions for docking. As soon as he left, she felt empty. What did that say about her? That she would rather be with him in anger than without him in peace? That was sorry of her, and she didn't want to be like that. No, she didn't, but another part of her mind whispered, Peace is a relative term, anyway, and urged her to torment him.
For the last month, she'd been cutting, mumbling insults at him, glaring at him. If she had one wish, it was that he'd stay and take her anger, absorb so much that it faded from her. And then he would, of course, apologize abjectly and say that he loved her.
She sighed. It wasn't in her nature to be this churlish. Squaring her shoulders, she resolved that she would endeavor to be civil to him.
This day would mark a new beginning. She frowned up at the sky. This gray, faded day. Regardless, it was a new beginning in a new land and a new life--a life far from the one she'd envisioned for herself, but spiting Grant helped nothing.
She would try to change and make the best of things. Keep what was past in the past. She gave herself a sharp nod. A new start--
Something thumped against the bow. Dooley exclaimed, "That one must've been a body." The crew howled with laughter.
Tori drummed her nails and rolled her eyes. New beginning...
How utterly auspicious.
Hours later, as they traveled deeper into what Tori learned was called the "pool of London," she took in one bewildering sight after another. It was like a forest upon the water, there were so many masts from the ships clotting the harbor. Low, nebulous clouds slid along with the gusting wind. The sounds of chains grating, construction, and a multitude of vendors hawking wares assaulted her ears.
The steam tug chugged onward, towing them to a system of wharves and a monstrous warehouse bordering the river. The ship was docked at one of the largest piers as gently as a baby laid to cradle. Sodden flags matching the pennants of the Keveral snapped from masts at the shore.
After the crew secured the ship, Tori and Cammy said farewell to them. Tori hugged Dooley with watering eyes, wishing him luck on his next voyage. When Dooley teared up too, Ian quickly conducted Tori and Cammy to the warehouse. They were to wait there while Grant oversaw the details of arrival.
The goods inside were piled so high it was as if they walked a maze. They inspected the spectacular lots of marble, teas, carpets, and spices. In a separate room, the blue room, they saw stacks of compacted bales of indigo powder. Tori knew all these materials were expensive, even without noticing the guards walking the perimeter. "So Grant does well as a captain?"
Ian looked at her quizzically. "He owns half of this."
Her eyes widened. "But I thought he was only a captain, or just owned a share."
"The brothers own it jointly," Ian said. "Rich as Croesus, both of them."
Tori looked at Cammy in shock, then back at Ian. "Then why didn't Grant just buy an estate, instead of make this deal with my grandfather?"
Ian sank onto a roll of carpet. "There simply aren't unentailed estates that large left. Not for sale and not near Grant's family's home."
"Just how big is the Court?" Cammy asked.
"Vast, because the family stipulated it never could be divided, almost as though it were entailed. So in a time of dwindling estates, the Court still has its parklands, woodlands, downlands, and a village of tenants."
"Why does he want such a large property?" Tori asked as she and Cammy sat in a pair of wrapped antique chairs across from Ian.
He shrugged as if he didn't know very much about the subject, but Tori knew Ian observed and recorded more information than anyone suspected. He finally explained, "Grant's clever and ambitious. He knows that in England, land means power. As a younger son, Grant never hoped to acquire an estate like your family's, but if he did, he'd have a seat of power."
When Tori gave a cynical smirk, Ian said, "I want to be clear about this. Land means power but it also means responsibility, and I swear Grant's the only man in the kingdom who wants the latter more than the former. I don't want you ever to doubt his motives in this."
She would always doubt his motives. She feigned a smile and Ian relaxed, apparently convinced that she did in fact understand him.
While she pondered this new information, Ian waved his now calloused hand around the warehouse and said, "The family didn't see fit to cut ol' Ian a piece of the pie when my mother, Serena, inquired years ago. Told her some nonsense about 'unfortunate predilections' and an 'absurd disregard for fiscal responsibility.' " He shook his head. "Picky, picky."
Cammy remarked, "Your mother was good to ask for you."
"She didn't give a whit about the money." He chuckled. "She just wanted the brothers stuck watching out for me as they always had, keeping me straight..." He was about to say more, when they heard Grant's voice carrying from somewhere in the warehouse. Ian rose and stretched his long arms above his head. "I'll just go check with Grant and see if he's ready to escort you from here."
"Are you certain you can't accompany us to the Court?" Cammy asked. "We will miss you, Ian."
Ian leaned forward to kiss her hand. "I have to go find Erica. Still, I wouldn't leave you if I didn't know Grant would care for you both."
When he took Tori's hand, she said, "You must write and tell us how you're doing."
"Write?" Ian scoffed. "As soon as I find Erica, I'm introducing her to Serena and my sisters, then dragging my gaggle of females west to see all of you." He looked very young, but so sure when he said, "You won't get rid of me that easily, I'm afraid."
Grant was as ready to be on his way as any of them. He figured his best chance at sanity was leaving Victoria at the Court. Apart from her, his feelings would fade. They had to. He worried that they hadn't already. He had, after all, dodged a bullet. He'd bedded her and didn't have to pay the ultimate price. So why did he feel like he wanted to be shot at again?
"What are you so nervous about?" Grant asked Ian when he joined him outside Peregrine's office. For the past two weeks, Ian had seemed more anxious about landing than any of them.
Ian shrugged. "Nothing that concerns you."
"If this is about those creditors, I can lend you some money. Again."
"It's not about them," Ian said coldly.
Grant raised his eyebrows, but changed the subject. "I'm still surprised you don't
want to accompany the ladies, although I'm not complaining."
Ian glared, then said, "I want to, yes. I feel like I'm abandoning them. Especially since Tori appears to despise you." He cast Grant a confounded look, as though he'd never figure that one out. "But I've got other things I need to see to."
"Like what?"
Ian scrutinized Grant, as though determining if he could trust him. He apparently decided he couldn't, because he ignored the question, and asked, "Are you going to send word to Derek and the family?"
"No, just to Belmont. The papers would have a field day with this story, so I'm trying to keep it under wraps. I'll visit Whitestone afterward."
Ian nodded, then said, "We're returning Cammy home, but for Tori this will be as new and you'll have to be patient. We can't even begin to understand how she feels about all this."
"I can't believe you are lecturing me on the care of a woman."
"Since I can't go, I'm going to have to trust you to care for her."
Grant made a disbelieving sound, then grated, "I already care for her." His eyes narrowed. "That didn't come out as it should."
"Didn't it?"
Grant turned to the object of their conversation as though searching for some idea how to respond. Victoria and Camellia waited across the busy street by Grant's carriage, taking in the confusion and riot of the London docks with eyes wide.
A group of towering, foreign sailors with blond cropped hair stopped in their tracks when they spotted Victoria. In their strange northern language, they chattered to her, surrounding her. She half-smiled, unsure what to make of the men, some holding their hands over their hearts, others bowing with great solemnity.
Ian chuckled. "Looks like they've found their Scandinavian princess."
"The hell they have...." Grant started for them, intending to crack skulls. Before he could get near, Camellia raised her umbrella warningly, and the group dispersed, throwing kisses back in their wake, while Victoria smiled and waved. Grant didn't slow, but made his way in front of Victoria to glower at the men until they disappeared from sight.
After Ian joined them and gave his farewells, Grant helped Camellia up into the carriage, then turned for Victoria. She ignored him and offered her hand to Ian.
"I wish it were you taking us to Belmont," she said in a not-low-enough voice.