Page 10 of Heiress Gone Wild

He closed his eyes, but strangely, it wasn’t an image of his friend, emaciated and dying, that came into his mind. Instead, he saw the girl, with her flaming hair and dark eyes. A month ago, promising to take care of Billy’s daughter had seemed an easy promise to make. Only now, after discovering she was a full-grown woman with a stunning face and the body of a goddess, was he able to truly appreciate the enormity of his responsibility.

A knock sounded on the door of his stateroom, interrupting his contemplations. It was the same sound, he realized, that had woken him a few moments ago. He heard the turn of a key and the opening of a door, and then a cheerful voice calling his name.

“Tea, Mr. Deverill,” a young man called through the open doorways of his suite. “As you ordered. And I’ve laid out the sandwiches and cakes.”

Jonathan jerked upright. “Thank you,” he called back. “Tip’s there,” he added, remembering the change he’d tossed on the table earlier when he’d emptied his pockets.

“Thank you,sir.” The waiter’s grateful voice told him the amount of change must have been generous. There was another rattle of tea things, the sound of the change being scraped off the table, and then the waiter’s voice came again. “Can I do anything more for you, Mr. Deverill?”

“No.” He rose, stepped out of the bath, and pulled a towel from the hook nearby. “I’ll ring if I need anything.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you again.”

Jonathan heard the outer door close and the key turn as he dried off. Tossing aside the towel, he walked to the washstand, opened his shaving kit, and turned on the hot water tap.

He’d already lathered his brush by the time he remembered the tea. Deciding he’d better drink it before it got cold, he set down his shaving brush and turned off the tap, then donned his dressing robe and left the bath.

Tying the sash of his robe, he pushed the door wide with his shoulder, but at the sight that met his eyes, he came to an immediate halt in the doorway. “What the devil?” he muttered.

Sitting on the petit point sofa of his stateroom, eating crumpets and drinking tea, her bright hair gleaming in the light of the lamp beside her, was Marjorie McGann.

Chapter 4

Had Jonathan possessed any doubts that making him the guardian of his best friend’s daughter was an awful idea, the fact that Miss McGann was sitting in his stateroom aboard a ship crossing the Atlantic instead of securely tucked away at Forsyte Academy would have shredded them.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. Glancing past her toward the windows that opened onto the promenade deck, he was relieved to see that at least she hadn’t drawn back the curtains. But then, he remembered they were far out of New York Harbor, with no way to take her back, and his relief vanished again. “I left you in White Plains.”

“Fortunately for me, I know how to ride a bicycle, purchase a train ticket, and hail a taxi. And since you provided me with the name of the ship on which you had booked passage...” She paused to pop the last bite of crumpet into her mouth and reach for a sandwich, then she leaned back against the sofa and smiled, looking far too pleased with herself. “Here I am.”

“How did you get into my room?”

“I came in with the waiter.” She gave him an apologetic look as she ate a bite of sandwich. “I fear he thinks we’re both terribly depraved.”

“Good God,” he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face as he worked to make sense of the situation. “Does Mrs. Forsyte know you’ve gone?”

“I imagine she does by now. I left her a note, explaining that I’d departed with you.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you, in heaven’s name?”

“What you should have done in the first place.” She took another bite of sandwich as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Be my guardian, as my father wanted.”

“That’s what I thought I was doing,” he countered, his shock giving way to frustration. “I ensured that you were properly looked after, as any guardian would.”

Her sound of disdain told him what she thought of that. “You and I have very different notions of what a guardian’s duties entail, Mr. Deverill. Mine, as I already told you, includes taking me to London, giving me a season, and helping me find a husband.”

“And as I told you, you can’t have a season—not yet. It would be quite inappropriate so soon after your father’s death. As for the rest, I may be your guardian, but I’m damned if I’ll be your matchmaker.”

“Fine.” She ate the last bite of her sandwich and brushed the crumbs from her fingers onto the tray before she spoke again. “I’ll find my future husband without your help.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult,” he shot back. “You’ll probably be saddled with half a dozen candidates before we even disembark. The moment word gets out that the daughter of the late silver baron William McGann is on board, you’ll have any number of good-looking scoundrels with no money and bad intentions interested in you.”

As he spoke, he appreciated that watching over her was a duty he could now not postpone. And given the girl’s smashing looks and immense fortune, he feared it would prove a more hazardous task than protecting a mine had ever been. “When these men discover you haven’t a proper chaperone, they’ll be chasing you all around the ship.”

“Do you think so?” She smiled, the beautiful innocent. “How delightful.”

All sorts of ghastly possibilities began flashing through his mind, and it took him a moment to answer. “Hardly that,” he said at last, “since you could find yourself compromised by a shipboard romance and forced into marriage. Do you want to be stuck for life with a fortune hunter?”

She shrugged as if that was a thing of little consequence. “Any man marrying an heiress like me would expect a substantial dowry. And I can’t condemn my future husband for wanting to spend my fortune when that’s exactly what I’m going to do with it.”

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