Read Online The Pirate's Desire by Jennette Green - Free Book Online Page B

knickknacks were scattered on every available surface.
    “Please sit down. I will fetch the tea and send in Mr. Bilford.”
    Lucinda had always thought it funny the Bilfords called each other Mr. and Mrs. Bilford. A faint smile touched her lips as she sat on the slippery couch, but it vanished as she waited. What would she say to the pastor? How did one go about arranging a funeral service?
    Mr. Bilford hurried in with his wife, who carried the tea tray. “Lucinda.” He pressed her hands between his own. His kind eyes, behind round spectacles, looked concerned, and his bushy gray brows furrowed together. “I am so sorry. Your father was a good man.”
    “Thank you,” Lucinda whispered, and bit her lip. Mrs. Bilford looked on, worried lines crinkling her forehead. The kindness and concern in both of their eyes was suddenly too much, and Lucinda burst into tears. Flustered, she fumbled in her purse for a handkerchief, but Mr. Bilford pressed one into her hand, instead.
    “It’s good to cry,” he said gently. “You miss him very much. So will we all.”
    “Y…yes,” Lucinda sniffed, and tried to blot the tears from her eyes. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t stop.
    Mr. Bilford gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder and sat in an adjacent chair. “Take all the time you need.”
    Lucinda did not like to weep in front of others. She’d much rather cry in private and keep her deep emotions to herself. It felt strange and frightening that she couldn’t stop crying. At long last, however, her sniffling sobs shuddered to a stop.
    “There.” Mrs. Bilford pressed a clean hanky into her hand.
    “Don’t be surprised if you weep often in the next few weeks,” Mr. Bilford said kindly. “Little things will set you off. Take advantage of those times and cry. You need to grieve.”
    Lucinda nodded, but couldn’t speak.
    “And pray to God when you feel down, Lucinda. I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you this. He cares for you and will give you comfort.”
    “I’ll try,” she said in a small voice. Goodness knew, she didn’t pray enough. Hadn’t Riel been the one to remind her to pray at dinner last night?
    Pastor Bilford said, “And always remember this; your father is in heaven. It’s a wonderful, glorious place, and some day you will see him again.”
    Lucinda’s mind flashed to all of her misdeeds; many of them recent. “I hope I will,” she mumbled.
    Pastor Bilford chuckled. “Faith pleases God, Lucinda. If you’ve committed transgressions, repent and move on.”
    What if she planned more transgressions? Lucinda felt uncomfortable, and decided to change the subject.
    “We’re having Father’s funeral tomorrow evening at Ravensbrook. Will you be able to conduct the service?”
    “I would be honored. If you wish, I will arrange the burial as well. In your family plot?”
    “Yes.” Grateful tears hovered, but she managed to blink them back. “Thank you. And I wondered about a grave stone.”
    Pastor Bilford motioned to his wife, and she immediately turned to the desk and withdrew a paper, quill and ink. “I will commission one made. Write what you would like engraved on the stone.”
    Lucinda accepted the items. But her quill hovered, unmoving, over the paper. Part of her could not believe she was about to write words that would commemorate her father’s grave forever. It seemed a momentous task. Her words would be read for centuries to come.
    She drew a breath, and tried to marshal her thoughts. Above all, she wanted everyone who read the epitaph to know a little about her father. She did not want him forgotten. Not ever.
    After a long hesitation, she dipped quill into ink and wrote, “Peter Hastings, Earl of Ravensbrook, Commodore in the Royal Navy, professor, well loved for always. 1759 – 1812.”
    Hands trembling, she handed the sheet to Mr. Bilford. He smiled when he read it. “Very good. The stone should be ready in about three weeks.”
    Lucinda reached into her reticule and pulled out the