But life as a sailor’s wife meant long stretches alone. In their year together, they spent mere weeks under one roof. Enough time for Robert to leave her carrying their daughter Kerenza, when he sailed away to map the coast of South America, the voyage from which he’d never returned.
Morwenna had spent the years since lost in a fog of grief, consoled only by her love for her daughter and the kindness of Robert’s grand relations. The brother of a peer had been a catch for a girl from an obscure family and an isolated, hard-scrabble corner of the kingdom. Except none of the Nashes had been grand at all. And through their profound sorrow, they’d found room for Robert’s bride, and later Robert’s pretty, quirky, stubborn daughter. It was both a comfort and an excruciating reminder of her loss that Kerenza could be nobody else’s daughter but Robert Nash’s.
Morwenna’s immediate reaction was to fling herself into his arms. She could hardly believe this miracle. The missing, bleeding half of her heart was at last restored to her. She’d felt barely alive since that devastating day when his lieutenant came to Woodley Park with news that Captain Robert Nash, R.N., was dead. He’d gone overboard after being shot in an engagement with pirates in the South Atlantic.
Then she remembered that Robert had returned to find her pledging herself to another man.
She forced air into starved lungs. She locked her knees against collapsing and struggled to clear her head. A few feet away, Pascal tried to revive his wife, Robert’s sister Amy.
Of course Robert wouldn’t know about Amy’s recent marriage. With the force of a blow, she realized that it was likely Robert didn’t know he had a child.
The room whirled around her. Reaching to hold onto something, anything, she curled her hand over Lord Garson’s arm.
Then was sorry she had when she saw Robert’s eyes flare with temper. The man she’d married had been slow to anger and quick to forgive. She could already tell this formidable creature wasn’t nearly so tolerant.
She snatched her hand away and blushed with guilt, even as she reminded herself she’d done nothing wrong. But when she met condemning black eyes, any small power that reassurance had held drained away to nothing.
Around them, a deathly hush had fallen. Logic told Morwenna that the silence lasted a few seconds, but she felt like she tumbled into an endless, soundless cavern, where nothing existed beyond Robert’s burning, angry glare.
Silas, thank God, ended the ghastly stasis.
“Robert...Robert, old man...” His broken words vibrated with joy. He strode forward and hauled his brother into a fervent embrace.
Morwenna watched Robert stiffen as if expecting violence. Then her heart cramped with wordless compassion when he hesitantly slid his arms around his brother’s back.
Where on earth had Robert been all this time? Everyone on his ship had seen him dragged under the waves, and he hadn’t resurfaced. She knew this was true because she and Silas had tracked down all the surviving crew, from the cabin boy to the first lieutenant. Anyone who might have offered a shred of hope that the man she loved still lived.
Because if he didn’t live, how could she continue in a world without him? Even as she grew large with his child inside her.
She’d taken years to accept that Robert really was dead. He’d seemed too vital and powerful to fall victim to common mortality.
It turned out that she’d been right to doubt his demise. Even now, when he glowered at her like he hated her, her soul expanded to fill her for the first time since he’d gone.
He was alive. He was alive.
That was all that mattered. He might never speak another kind word to her, but he breathed the same air she did.
She sucked in another breath, and this time had no trouble standing on her own two feet. And with the action, her reeling shock receded a little and she became aware of her surroundings. Pascal had carried Amy to a chair, but she looked wan and shaky. Brief, distant curiosity sparked in Morwenna’s mind. Was her sister-in-law with child?
Caro was crying, unashamed tears pouring down her lovely face. “If only Helena was here,” she said in a thick voice.
Around her, Morwenna heard the gale of whispers. The curiosity. The hint of spiteful enjoyment. She saw the bright, malicious glances directed at her, and Lord Garson beside her.
With horror, she recalled the man she’d agreed to marry next Christmas. She turned to Garson, then almost wished she hadn’t.
He watched her with that steady gaze that had become so familiar over recent months. But at last she recognized the depth of love behind his eyes.
Remorse stabbed her. She’d known he cared a
bout her. Of course, she did. But only now when there could be nothing more between them did she see that he loved her perhaps almost as much as she loved Robert.
Morwenna realized that in accepting his proposal out of pure self-interest, she’d done him a disservice. She’d been honest enough to tell him she still loved her husband. But as their eyes met, she read his dashed hopes that time would loosen Robert’s hold on her.
His level, gray gaze told her something else. He now understood that even without Robert’s return, no man had ever had a chance of gaining her heart.
And the knowledge cut him to the bone.
Morwenna wanted to say she was sorry—and she was—but her regret was a tiny shadow in the huge, spinning universe of gratitude that Robert had come back to her.