For a moment, he stared at her. It was useless to argue when she could use her sickness as an excuse to push him away. Suddenly anger filled him. He had devoted nearly a week to her care. The only time she had seemed grateful was when she had been in the flush of her sickness and had let him hold her close. As soon as she began to get better, she showed how much she hated him.
Rising, he went to the door. It slammed loudly as he went out for his first fresh air in days. Let Rebecca take care of herself. He could enjoy himself playing cards with the crew and captain of the Prize . He did not need to spend his time acting as a nursemaid to an ungrateful wench.
Tears rolled from Rebeccaâs eyes as she heard the crash of the door. She could not believe Nicholas could be so vicious when she was so ill. When she had tried to thank him by telling him that she appreciated his efforts as much as he had hers, he had turned on her in a vile, verbal attack.
For the rest of the long years of her life, she would be tied to this man who wanted only one thing from her. She feared that if she learned to feel anything but antipathy for him, she would be hurt that much more when he tired of her. That he would grow bored with her, she did not doubt. What could a backwoods maiden offer to a man who had lived on two continents and had been raised in a world where the people might speak regularly with the royal family?
It had seemed so exciting to marry this handsome man who told her what had seemed like fairy tales of large houses and titled people. What she had not realized was that Nicholas was not a simple soldier seeking his way back to his unit. He had been telling her of his real life when she had thought he was delirious or trying to entertain her.
There was no place for Rebecca North.⦠She corrected herself with a sharp pulse of pain. There was no place for Rebecca Wythe in that world. It would be impossible for her to fit in. Perhaps if she had been raised in Philadelphia or Boston or Williamsburg, she would have known how to talk to people who would view her as a most queer Lady Foxbridge. In a soft whisper, she begged the night, âLet me go home. Let me go home, please.â On the last word, her voice shattered into sobs.
For the next two weeks, Rebecca slowly recovered. Occasionally she saw Nicholas when he came into the room to retrieve clean clothes. He spoke only a greeting or asked how she was feeling. She replied in a small voice, afraid of arousing the wrath she could see glittering in his eyes.
Otherwise, during that time, she rested and ate the food delivered by a kind boy named Jake. Sometimes he stayed and talked. She learned he had run away from home when he was only eight to seek a life on the sea. His widowed mother had remarried a man he did not like, so he had decided to take control of his own destiny. Since then he had sailed on the Prize , first as a kind of unofficial mascot, now as a full-fledged cabin boy with duties and a few coins in his pocket at the end of each voyage. She enjoyed his tales of places that she would never see in the Indies and even along the coast of mysterious Africa. In his few years, he had seen things most people could not imagine.
Jake came to look forward to his times visiting Lady Foxbridge. Although she asked him to call her Rebecca, he did not dare to, for he was intimidated by her powerful husband. He did not want Lord Foxbridge to think anything other than innocent conversation was taking place in the cabin where the door always remained ajar when he spoke with the convalescing woman. It was the first time in many years that he had had someone near his own age to talk to regularly. She did not laugh when he spoke of his dreams of someday being the master of his own ship which would sail as far away as the Spice Islands and China.
âEnjoy your dreams,â she told him more than once. âHold onto them and savor them. That way, maybe you can make them
Rising, he went to the door. It slammed loudly as he went out for his first fresh air in days. Let Rebecca take care of herself. He could enjoy himself playing cards with the crew and captain of the Prize . He did not need to spend his time acting as a nursemaid to an ungrateful wench.
Tears rolled from Rebeccaâs eyes as she heard the crash of the door. She could not believe Nicholas could be so vicious when she was so ill. When she had tried to thank him by telling him that she appreciated his efforts as much as he had hers, he had turned on her in a vile, verbal attack.
For the rest of the long years of her life, she would be tied to this man who wanted only one thing from her. She feared that if she learned to feel anything but antipathy for him, she would be hurt that much more when he tired of her. That he would grow bored with her, she did not doubt. What could a backwoods maiden offer to a man who had lived on two continents and had been raised in a world where the people might speak regularly with the royal family?
It had seemed so exciting to marry this handsome man who told her what had seemed like fairy tales of large houses and titled people. What she had not realized was that Nicholas was not a simple soldier seeking his way back to his unit. He had been telling her of his real life when she had thought he was delirious or trying to entertain her.
There was no place for Rebecca North.⦠She corrected herself with a sharp pulse of pain. There was no place for Rebecca Wythe in that world. It would be impossible for her to fit in. Perhaps if she had been raised in Philadelphia or Boston or Williamsburg, she would have known how to talk to people who would view her as a most queer Lady Foxbridge. In a soft whisper, she begged the night, âLet me go home. Let me go home, please.â On the last word, her voice shattered into sobs.
For the next two weeks, Rebecca slowly recovered. Occasionally she saw Nicholas when he came into the room to retrieve clean clothes. He spoke only a greeting or asked how she was feeling. She replied in a small voice, afraid of arousing the wrath she could see glittering in his eyes.
Otherwise, during that time, she rested and ate the food delivered by a kind boy named Jake. Sometimes he stayed and talked. She learned he had run away from home when he was only eight to seek a life on the sea. His widowed mother had remarried a man he did not like, so he had decided to take control of his own destiny. Since then he had sailed on the Prize , first as a kind of unofficial mascot, now as a full-fledged cabin boy with duties and a few coins in his pocket at the end of each voyage. She enjoyed his tales of places that she would never see in the Indies and even along the coast of mysterious Africa. In his few years, he had seen things most people could not imagine.
Jake came to look forward to his times visiting Lady Foxbridge. Although she asked him to call her Rebecca, he did not dare to, for he was intimidated by her powerful husband. He did not want Lord Foxbridge to think anything other than innocent conversation was taking place in the cabin where the door always remained ajar when he spoke with the convalescing woman. It was the first time in many years that he had had someone near his own age to talk to regularly. She did not laugh when he spoke of his dreams of someday being the master of his own ship which would sail as far away as the Spice Islands and China.
âEnjoy your dreams,â she told him more than once. âHold onto them and savor them. That way, maybe you can make them
Similar Books
