Excerpt #4

What had she done?

Ann stood alone in the parlor just where Chase Hardesty had left her, feeling dazed and breathless. Though she knew very well what it might cost her, she had thwarted the plans her step-father had made for her, and she was quivering inside. She was quivering with defiance and pride and sheer hand-wringing terror. She'd seized the opportunity Chase Hardesty offered—and refused to become his wife. Had she been right to do that, to throw away the only chance she might ever have of securing a name for her child? A name that wasn't Rossiter?

A shudder slid the length of her back.

As if she could outrun her own uncertainty, Ann paced from one end of the room to the other, paused at the wide double doors and pressed her ear to the wood. Chase Hardesty must be in her step-father's study facing up to James Rossiter and explaining—she hoped—that he wasn't going to marry her. He should be telling the commodore that no matter how compelling the inducement, Chase wouldn't take another man's leavings.

The truth of that assessment made her belly flutter. She bent and peered through the keyhole, but the hall was empty. She couldn't even hear the sound of voices.

Ann straightened and paced, making a circuit of the room again. She stopped at the window and peered down the street. She had to be sure Chase didn't leave without her knowing, but except for a carter delivering wood, the street was empty. She crossed her arms and chaffed her hands up and down her sleeves trying to dispel the chill that seeped through her.

She could scarcely believe what had passed between Mr. Hardesty and her during the last half hour, how they'd stood right here discussing a marriage between them as if she were goods to be bought and sold and his good name could be hawked to the highest bidder. They had talked with remarkable candor about her condition, and what he'd been offered to make her his wife. He'd been honest about his ambition, and she'd told as much of the truth as she could about her reticence.

She didn't know what it was that made him give her the chance to decide her fate, but she was grateful. She'd done what was best for all of them—for her and Mr. Hardesty and her unborn child. It wouldn't have been right to embroil a man of Mr. Hardesty's evident scruples in her step-father's machinations.

She curled her hand around the curve of her belly. She'd find her own way to protect this baby—if Mr. Hardesty just held to his convictions. If the commodore accepted Chase's refusal. If she could find a way to escape this house before her step-father drummed up another suitor who'd prove less acceptable and accommodating a husband than Chase Hardesty—

Just then, the man himself emerged from the townhouse and took the row of limestone steps two at a time. Ann leaned close to the window, trying to discern from the set of his shoulders and the expression on his face how things had gone with the commodore.

As he reached the iron gate, Chase paused and turned. He looked back at the townhouse as if he knew she'd be waiting.

Her first impulse was to shrink back out of sight. Instead she pressed her hand to the glass until fuzzy moons of condensation formed beneath with her fingertips. Across the patch of winter-yellowed grass, Chase's gaze held her own. He knew why she was there and what she wanted to know.

He lifted one eyebrow and gave her a quick conspiratorial smile that confirmed that at no small price to himself, he'd told her father he wouldn't marry her.

Relief spilled through her, warming her, making her throat burn and her eyes blur with tears. She drew one long, shuddery breath and then another.

Her gaze lingered in the sea-dark depths of his eyes. She wished she could tell him how grateful she was, how much she appreciated that a man she'd never seen before today would sacrifice his chance to be master of the Andromeda for her sake. She inclined her head, holding the pose to indicate her deep appreciation. He gave a quick acknowledging nod, settled a broad-brimmed hat over his curly hair, then turned up Lucas Place. With long, sure strides, he stalked off in the direction of the river. As he did, there was about him an almost electric vitality, a stark, brazen confidence that came from sneering in the face of caution.

She'd done that, too, but she wasn't energized by it the way Chase Hardesty seemed to be. She didn't feel stalwart and dauntless. She was scared to death.

She watched Chase all the way down the block clinging to what confidence she could borrow from him, but when he disappeared around the corner, he took her courage away with him.

She stood in the window shivering with fright and feeling unbearably alone. She was pregnant, without resources, and facing the greatest challenge of her life. She needed to flee this house and make a life for herself and her child.

If only she had some idea how to do that...

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