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Chapter 14

What was love, really?

Was it hearts and flowers, fluttering emotions that cause the stomach to churn with a nausea that bordered on ecstasy when she glanced your way? That wild rush of sensation that the merest touch caused to ricochet around nerve endings stretched already too tight? The heady knowledge that she’d let you in to places she’d never let others?

Or was it the realization that you’d met your match, your mate, the person who somehow makes you feel whole? The woman who could make you complete.

He swallowed hard as he watched her sleep, her hair spread across the pillow, caressing the sheets with its tendrils. The way she’d opened her heart and herself to him, the depth of her response as she’d shuddered against him, the breathy sigh as his name had escaped her lips, they were all things he’d never experienced before. The nights with Drusilla, the heights and depths he’d explored with her skilled body had given him pleasure, but never this level of connection.

And it had left him shaken to the core. After yesterday morning, when she’d lit the fire between them with her gentle touch and that soul-searing kiss, he’d known he could have her. Knew she’d need a little persuasion, a bit of coaxing, but he’d felt the longing in her touch.

He’d quickly resigned himself to the notion that she would never be his mistress. Despite the gentle flirtation he’d pursued, he’d come to realize that Buffy was exactly what she appeared to be, a lady in the truest sense of the word, not a lightskirt, even a discriminating one who could only be lured with jewels and finery.

Until this past night. And even now he knew this wasn’t the same. She didn’t want him for his money, his possessions, his connections. She’d wanted him. As a man and as a lover. And that made all the difference.

He nuzzled her neck as she mumbled softly and burrowed closer against him. A small smile slipped free at how comfortable she was in his arms, how much she trusted him. This was what he’d longed for, in those long, lonely nights at sea, a match for him in every way. Clever, witty, a bit of temper to keep things interesting and so much passion bubbling between them it was almost uncontainable.

But with the rays of light that were starting to illuminate the sky came the stark remembrance he’d failed to face while they consummated their love. It could never be more than this, an illicit affair of stolen nights and fleeting moments. All because he’d foolishly signed a marriage contract to bring him success and a lovely bride whose simpering laugh and vapid stare left him cold.

He’d forgiven his father many years before, when he’d watched the agony of the man, who’d come and gone in fleeting snatches all his life, weep as though his very heart had shattered on his mother’s grave. There were responsibilities and obligations that society dictated and love was neither of those things. It was merely a bonus that one tried to seize if so fortunate as to find it, not a necessity. And as he’d watched the deep gasping sobs of his father, the ice he’d felt had slowly melted and he’d understood the reality of the world.

But this was the new world, not the old. And he wasn’t a lord with centuries of title bearing down on him as his father had been. All that stood between him and her was a promise to a man he didn’t even like and a girl who seemed reluctant to be in the same room with him. There must be a way around that. After all, everything has a price, if you were willing to pay it.

And for her, he now realized, he was. The woman cradled against him was fast becoming a necessity he did not think he could live without. He’d give almost anything if he could only wake her, drop to his knees, take her in his arms and say the words that would make her his wife at this very moment. She was the person he wanted to share a bed with every night, look at across the breakfast table for the rest of his life, and one day, father children with her beautiful hazel eyes and golden hair.

He lifted the delicate locks that laid across his chest and raised them to his face to inhale her scent. The merest hint of light was gracing the room now as daylight hovered just below the horizon and he knew he should leave before she awakened, and return when he could face her with the freedom to say those words. He ghosted his lips across her forehead and gently eased away, searching hastily for something to write with at her desk. Finding a scrap, he scribbled briefly, tucking the note into her hand. He dressed quickly, sliding his shirt over his head and shrugged carefully into his jacket as he quietly exited into the early morning.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy opened her eyes as she heard the window close behind him and slowly sat up, clutching the sheets modestly to her, though there was no reason for such an effort now. She’d heard him moving around the room, but the thought of facing him like this, still exposed and open from what had passed between them in the dark, filled her with a trepidation she’d lost somewhere in the wonders of the night. She placed one hand to her hot cheek, knowing it must be quite red as remembrances flooded back over her in waves.

Did he think less of her now? Though perhaps he ought. After all, she could hardly claim any moral superiority over Anya or any of the girls who worked for her, any longer. In some ways she was even worse than they, driven by need, whereas she was merely seduced by pretty words and soft touches, so desperate for affection that she’d throw her chastity away for a moment of pleasure. A small smile snuck unbidden on to her face for a moment, despite her guilt. Perhaps more than just a moment’s pleasure. She’d never imagined it could be that way between a man and a women, that she could feel the things he’d made her feel.

She slowly opened the note he’d tucked between her fingers before his hasty exit, wondering what he’d written. Would it be an apology for what had happened? Did he regret trifling with he? She knew she was terribly inexperienced, and left much to be desired in these sorts of things, Angel had been quite clear on that.

Or perhaps now that he’d had his fun, he’d decided a fallen woman like herself had no place in his household? Or around Dawn? She felt a quick flare of indignation at that thought. He could hardly take that attitude, she hadn’t been the one who climbed through his window last night. But he hadn’t seemed disgusted with her, even if he hadn’t stayed this morning. She’d been awake enough to feel the gentle brush of his lips across her forehead, a lover’s kiss, soft and undemanding.

Could that mean . . . Her fingers stilled in opening the scrap as a thought crept in. Could he want more? As Anya had hinted, he’d be looking for a bride. A man of his position generally was married. Her previous protestations at the thought of leaving widowhood remained notably silent at this prospect as with trembling fingers she began to read the script.

Dearest Buffy,

Last night was a revelation to me. I’ve experienced much in this world, but never what has passed between us. I have things I must care for and arrange, but I have hopes that I may see you again tonight to make you a proposal, so that we may begin something greater as we journey to my homeland. There is much there I long to show you.

You looked beautiful in the soft morning light, my dearest. It’s is a sight I hope to wake up to every morning for the rest of my life.

I regret I will be unable to breakfast together in our usual manner, plans for the trip will occupy much of my day. I will see you this evening at the Crawford’s dinner and hope you will allow me to accompany you home.

Yours,
William

The sheet slipped unheeded as she read the letter again. And again. A proposal . . . begin something greater . . . much I long to show you . . . wake up to every morning for the rest of my life. He wanted her as his bride! Not some tawdry liaison that cheapened what had passed between them, but marriage that celebrated their . . . love.

The note blurred in front of her as she realized what his openness had finally forced her to admit to herself. She’d fallen in love with William Montgomery, and all the barriers she’d erected around her heart hadn’t kept him from breaching her defenses. She read the words penned to the page. He might not have used the precise language, but it was there. His affection for her in print, just as it had been all through the night.

She leapt from the bed and twirled across the room, foolishly kissing the note. She’d almost forgotten about the dinner. Suddenly, the thought of wearing something other then black seemed appealing. Would he like her in lilac? She could certainly wear lilac without offending her former in-laws.

"Willow!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Is Mr. MacDonald in? It’s quite urgent I speak with him right away."

The young man carefully copying the contract in front of him glanced away from his meticulous penmanship momentarily. "He just arrived, Mr. Montgomery. Would you like for me to find out if he can give you a moment?"

William stopped in mid-pace and stared at the clerk as though he were daft. "Well, yes. Urgent remember?"

The clerk trotted down the hallway and returned shortly, nodding to the agitated and slightly dishelved man. "He says to come right back."

William grasped the papers he’d retrieved from his safe this morning and entered the nicely apportioned office. Lindsay MacDonald was not a Charleston native, but he was universally recognized as a sharp attorney and a man with his finger to the pulse of the business community. William had early on selected him as the solicitor to handle the transactions for Montgomery & Harris and so far he hadn’t been disappointed. Now if he could only find a way to break this contract.

"William, how are you this fine day?"

"Fine, Lindsay, and yourself?"

"Can’t complain. Do you have the Johnson’s contract to review? Did they request some concessions in the terms we established?"

William cringed, he should have brought that with him, instead he’d left it lying in the study at home in his haste to fetch the purpose for his visit.

"No, I’m afraid I have another item today, one that is more confidential than most."

"You know I’m the soul of discretion."

William nodded. "I’m aware. But this matter is particularly delicate." He passed the contract across the desk. "I need to break this. I have no problem paying the money, but I can’t carry out the other obligation."

Lindsay frowned as he slid the paper closer and began to read to himself. After a few minutes he pushed back and whistled. "Now that is a mess."

"Really? Why? Wilkins is just strapped for cash. I’ll grease the skids, he can find some other fine Southern gentleman for his daughter and we’ll be fine. The engagement hasn’t been announced yet."

Lindsay shook his head. "It’s not that simple, Will. Don’t you see? This contract is thin ice at best, but Wilkins can talk around it being a bribe because as his future son in law, he’s doing a favor for family to help you get that permit. People will understand that. But if you just pay him straight out? It’s a bribe pure and simple and the others won’t stand for it if it comes out."

"It doesn’t have to come out. No one has to know."

"William, it’ll come out when Wilkins starts flashing that cash around, tries to build up his farm again."

He swallowed hard. "So you’re saying if I want that permit, I’ll have to go through with this?"

Lindsay nodded. "Will, it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. Why did you sign this without letting me look over it?"

William shrugged as he began to pace the room again. "Thought it didn’t matter. Thought it was a good deal at the time." He turned suddenly and gripped the edge of the desk. "What if I just break it and walk away, any chance the rest of the council will grant that charter?"

"There’s no way. Richard’s got most of the members in his pocket, if he nay says it, the vote is a foregone conclusion and your company is limited to the few ships you’re running now, you’ll have to pull out and return to England. Or move to another port, and you know Charleston’s the finest harbor, at a considerable cost I might add, given how much you’ve sunk already into your infrastructure here."
Lindsay frowned as he studied William’s face. "What brought this on? Cold feet at getting stuck with Harmony Wilkins?"

He watched the play of expressions across his client’s face, registered his rattled appearance and realized it was something far more serious.

"Who is she?"

"I can’t tell you that."

"Will, are you in love?"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you in love?" The thought and its inevitable answer swirled in his head in the same way the whiskey swirled around the glass he seemed to be lost in. He didn’t bother to glance up at the sound of footsteps entering the quiet office.

"Will? What’s the matter? You look like hell."

William continued his study of the depths of the amber liquid in his hand. "Yeah, didn’t take time to change this morning."

Xander studied him intently. "You didn’t come home last night, did you old man?" His eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. "You . . . didn’t come home. You were with Buffy!"

He studied the stricken expression on his friend’s face and the drink, so early in his hand and retraced his enthusiasm. "Alright, something’s wrong here. Was it . . ."

The glare from William stopped him and he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, not asking, a gentleman never tells and so on."

William scrubbed his hands across his face, "Xander, sit down. I need to ask you something." The somber tone in his voice sobered Xander and he sat as indicated. "I can’t marry Harmony Wilkins."

Xander smiled. "Glad you’ve finally come to your senses. Took you long enough. Will, you’ve barely seen the chit and you’re obviously mad for someone else."

"It’s that obvious?"

Xander nodded. "You’ve been a goner for a long time, mate."

Willam sighed in resignation. "Xander, I went to talk with Lindsay this morning. To see about breaking that contract. I though I could just buy my way out, and I wouldn’t regret a penny of it. But he doesn’t think that’s possible. If I don’t go through with this, Wilkins will deny us the harbor permits, because the money would seem a bribe. We’d be sunk here."

Xander shrugged. "So we’ll find another port Will. We’ll go to Wilmington or Savannah. Or we’ll not expand further, we’re doing fine with the fleet we have now."

"Xan, it’s not that simple . . ."

"No, Will, it is. Don’t misunderstand me. I was a wharf rat who had the good fortune to bunk next to you when I joined the Navy. Otherwise I’d be just another bitter old sailor by now. I’m grateful for that and I’m proud of what we’ve built in this business. Do you have any idea how amazing it is for me to see my name on the door out there?" Xander shook his head. "But none of it is worth making yourself miserable over. You’ve found someone special that makes you happy, that will keep you warm at night, someone you can grow old with. No matter how big we make this business, it’ll never replace her, if she’s the one."

He titled his chair back. "Besides, I’ve been doing some research, talking to captains that hit some of the other ports regularly. I think I might actually have a solution as to how to spilt the fleet so we can get around their docking restrictions. If you agree, you can just tell Wilkins we don’t need his harbor permits anymore."

William smiled for the first time since he’d left Lindsay’s office in despair. "Knew there was a reason I hung out with an old wharf rat. Let’s hear that plan."

~~~~~~~~~~

It was with a far lighter step that William knocked on the door of the Wilkins’ imposing home that afternoon. The door was opened promptly by an elderly black man in livery who bowed him in and seated William in the parlor. He hoped Wilkins would be understanding, hell, as expansive as he was feeling right now, he’d even offer to pay a part of the dowry so they could settle it on the little girl, help her find a nice young buck. And then he was going straight to Buffy.

He tapped his fingers on his knee, glancing around at the bric a brac that cluttered the tables. Wilkins was normally at the Planter’s Hotel, but he apparently hadn’t been there all day when William had called round to find him, nor at his formal office that was rarely frequented. Where was the man? He wanted to be done with this mess.

"Mr. Montgomery? How kind of you to call sir, we weren’t expecting you, or I would have been sure to have Harmony stay to see you today. She’s gone out for her daily constitutional with a friend."

He looked up to find Mrs. Wilkins beaming at him.

"How do you do ma’am? I’m rather sorry to drop by unexpectedly, but I was hoping to find your husband. There’s a matter I need to discuss with him before I leave tomorrow."

"Oh my, where are you off to? I hope everything is alright."

"I’m afraid some family matters require my attention in England, as well as a few business arrangements."

"Well, I am certainly sorry I’m the only one here then. Harmony will be so very heartbroken to have missed you. And I’ll pass word to my husband that you called. I assume you will still be at the dinner this evening, Mrs. Crawford mentioned you were to be in attendance."

"I do plan to be there. Perhaps I’ll be able to talk with your husband then." He rose from his seat, ready to conclude the conversation, suddenly feeling quite awkward given what he’d came here to do. "I apologize for taking so much of your time already. Thank you again, Mrs. Wilkins."

He thought he caught a glance of a blond head ducking out of the hallway as he exited and almost laughed aloud, relieved again. Daily constitutional, indeed. It would appear his initial instincts were right, Harmony had little desire to be in his company either, and he needn’t feel he’d broken her heart or any such nonsense.

Now, should he go see Buffy directly or wait until everything was settled? He glanced at his pocket watch. Time was rapidly slipping away, he’d best head back to the docks and finish the last minute paperwork if he was to dress and arrive at the Crawfords on time. He’d corner Wilkins, break the news to him, and then escort his love home with a clear conscience.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Mr. Finch? I assume you have some information for me, since you’ve summoned me down to this," Wilkins’ nose wrinkled in distaste, "remarkably filthy part of our fair city."

"Yes sir, and I apologize, it’s just, you said you needed the information as soon as it was complete."

"Very well my good man, what have you learned?"

Finch shuffled the papers on his desk as he found the documents. "Yes, well, as rumored, Mr. Montgomery is a bastard, but was acknowledged by his natural father and left a hefty inheritance. He’s made quite a fortune it would appear in his own right. Began his career at sea in the Queen’s Navy, then purchased his own ship and served as it’s captain for several years. After his father’s passing he began this venture. Very hard worker, seems to have the respect of his men."

He looked up from the report. "He seems to be a shrewd businessman as well, sir, but not without scruples. He’s made an excellent impression so far in town."

Wilkins nodded. "Anything further? Other skeletons other than his parentage?"

Finch turned the page. "He had a liaison with a courtesan in London for some time, but ended that before coming here, set her up nicely. Seems to be generous. No past marriages recorded. Not got much of a reputation as a man about town, seemed to have avoided the gambling hells and such, and preferred keeping a mistress than frequenting prostitutes. No peculiar affinities that I could find. As far as can I could find, no madness in the family on either side."

Wilkins rose, rubbing his hands, "Excellent, excellent. Is that all?"

Finch studied the paper carefully. "There is one other thing sir, though it appears to be a very recent development."

"Well, spill it man, I haven’t got all day."

"It would appear he has taken a widow here in town as his new mistress. A Mrs. Angel Crawford."





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