of the night. None she would admit to Jack, however. The way he had explained things, this truly did seem her only chance at a normal life.
He was very considerate, gallant, handsome, even titled. What more could she hope for in a husband? The very thought of having to meet numerous candidates and choose another terrified her.
According to him, any chance for such a choice would not be possible anyway, because everyone in England would believe her compromised after their trip together.
Even if she and Jack turned out to be mismatched in future, she would somehow make things work between them. He was a good man to do this for her.
She donned the crinkled muslin and smoothed it out as best she could. Her white slippers were a bit tight, having been constructed when she was but thirteen. Still, her feet had not grown much since that age. Laurel took a deep breath, pinched her cheeks, raked her teeth over her lips to induce a little color and went out to join Jack on the deck.
She smiled at his reaction. He looked rather shocked for a moment to see her wearing something different from the gray. And then pleased. His appreciative smile warmed her heart.
He looked wonderful in a coat of dark blue with gray breeches, black boots that reached his knees and incredibly white linen at his neck and wrists. Well dressed and well formed was this cousin and soon-to-be husband. The wind tossed his light brown hair about his brow, affording him a boyish charm that delighted her.
How tall and imposing he looked despite that small disarray, every inch a nobleman, every ounce a strong, capable man of the world. When she stood next to him, he made her feel small, yet in no way insignificant. Her wishes and opinions seemed to matter to him. He had been nothing but forthright, kind and considerate.
Laurel hoped this would prove to be the best decision for both of them. Jack was giving up his bachelor status, which he must surely have enjoyed enormously, to save her reputation.
Marriage would not become a total sacrifice on his part, she would see to that. She was good at organizing and very economical, both attributes that would be handy for managing a large household. After all, the convent was no more than that, and she had become adept at helping the sisters in almost every area. She would know precisely what to do.
Even more important was the fact that as a new earl, Jack would be thinking of setting up his nursery. The novels she had read indicated that every man of rank needed to wed and produce an heir. She promised herself she would, in every way possible, make this marriage as good for him as it would be for her. She would make it perfect.
The captain and the minister stood before them at the bow, flanked by a number of the crew and the half dozen other passengers. Strangers all, for there had been no time yet to form friendships or even to acquire acquaintances.
Jack held out his hand and she took it. How gallant of him to do this for her, to come for her and then to save her from scandal. What a good heart he had.
The rise and fall of the ship seemed to set the cadence for the minister’s words as he read from his book.
Hers was the first wedding she had ever attended, so Laurel hung on every word, committed to memory each promise Jack made, amazed that this outrageously handsome man, this earl, this treasured new friend and cousin, vowed so sincerely to become her husband forever. Her heart was so full of gratitude, she could scarcely breathe.
“I, Jackson Templeton Worth, take thee, Laurel Winspear Worth, to my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Laurel repeated the same vows with the word obey added to her litany. She slipped cherish into her part, as well, for she meant to truly cherish this wonderfully selfless man.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Jack said, looking down at her hand as he slid a plain gold band on her finger. “And with all my worldly goods, I thee endow.”
A brief hint of doubt intruded. How was it that he had a ring? And, so conveniently, a minister? But he could not have planned this wedding in advance. He’d had no reason to marry her before it became necessary to save her reputation, had he? No, he was a resourceful man. He’d probably bought a ring from someone, and the minister being onboard must simply be a happy coincidence.
“By the power vested in me by the Church of England and His Majesty, King George,” the minister intoned, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”
The ceremony was over and she was a wife. Jack’s wife. His countess, though he had not made their station known as yet on board the ship. She wondered about that, but he had said he was still unused to the title.
Perhaps he merely wanted to be treated equally by their fellow travelers. Laurel admitted that not being either avoided or bowed to at every turn would make for a much more pleasant journey. Jack was wise and obviously thought ahead.
“Kiss ’er, mister!” one of the crewmen shouted as the vicar closed his book. Laughter ensued as Jack leaned to touch his lips to hers. Everyone applauded and a few added whistles.
Laurel savored the sweet feel of his mouth as it lightly caressed hers. He smelled of bay rum, starch and the sea. His closeness felt lovely, though unsettling, and caused a quickening of her heartbeat as it always did. She experienced a small pang of regret when he drew away.
Moments later, after a spate of cursory congratulations, the onlookers scattered and the ship was back to business as usual.
Jack still held her hand and turned to her then. “Well, my lady. I wish I could offer you more festivities, but there is a wedding breakfast for the two of us in my cabin. I bribed the ship’s cook.”
“How wonderful,” she said, growing nervous at last. One could only dismiss thoughts of the consummation for so long. She knew vaguely what was to happen. His kiss had stirred all sorts of imaginings. Would he wait for night? Did couples even do such intimate things in the light of day? “I should have read more novels,” she muttered to herself.
“So you had novels in the convent,” he said. “Those are fairly new. How did you get them?”
“Smuggled in by the girls who came late to us. The books were few, well dog-eared and treasured.”
She stopped on the stairs. “Jack? I feel I should warn you I know very little about becoming a wife. Are you…experienced at all?”
He bit his lip and looked away. “Ah…well, somewhat. That won’t be a problem. If you like, we will wait until we land and find more comfortable accommodations. To make things official, that is. To, you know…” He actually blushed, delighting Laurel, dismissing her own qualms.
“That would be best I think. Yes, we should wait.” She hesitated before asking the next question, lest he think her too eager. “How many days will we be at sea, do you think?”
“Three or four at best. Longer if the winds aren’t with us.”
“Then we shall arrive in London?”
“We’re to put in at Plymouth, then go on to London by coach,” he explained. “Well then, shall we breakfast? A good English repast seems a proper way to begin, doesn’t it?”
