A Most Unsuitable Groom by Kasey Michaels by Kasey Michaels Page A

have lied to her, but he'd only delayed the inevitable and perhaps even made that inevitable even worse, for she had gathered up a list of questions as long as the man's arm, all waiting for his return.
    And now he was back.
    The glass pressed firmly to her eye, Mariah held her breath until she saw Spencer's dark head in the longboat rowing toward the shore in front of the village. His head was bare and the greatcoat he'd slung around his shoulders blew about in the cool, early-evening breeze. It had to have been even cooler out on the water, where she had been told earlier by Fanny a storm was most certainly brewing.
    Ah, never fear, sir. You have no idea how very warm your homecoming is to be, Mr. Spencer Becket.
    Onatah was with William, so Mariah felt free to descend the steps to the beach and walk toward the village to meet Spencer halfway, before he could be swept up and taken into his father's study, away from her. Outflanking the Beckets. After all, in any war, logistics were crucial.
    He stood on the beach for a minute, speaking to the men who had landed with him, and then turned, heading for Becket Hall, so that Mariah stopped, waited for him to approach her.
    She thought his step was a little slow in the now rapidly fading daylight and his shoulders seemed to slump a bit under the weight of the greatcoat. He walked with his head down, his wavy black hair blowing every which way in the wind. Surely he hadn't exhausted himself simply overseeing the construction of the frigate.
    If that's where he'd been, and Mariah didn't believe that as much as she'd wanted to believe that it was true, that his absence had been innocuous.. .and not outside the King's laws.
    Did they really expect her to turn a blind eye, pretend she was an idiot, allow her son to become a part of whatever was going on here?
    Did she really think she could leave? Would even be allowed to leave? Certainly not with William. Spencer had made that very clear from the beginning.
    "Hello, Spencer. Welcome home."
    "Mariah," he said, at last looking up, seeing her standing not ten feet away from him, the hood of her cape fallen back, her amazing hair free and dancing about her face. His heart lurched a bit crazily in his chest. "Is something wrong? William?"
    How wonderful, his first thought had been of William. Not that it should have been of her. That would be ridiculous. "He's just fine. He's passed from hand to hand all the day and night long, as if he's the most remarkable infant to have ever been born. At this rate, I doubt his feet will even touch the ground until he's at least three years old."
    Spencer's dark eyes seemed to light up with this news, except that those eyes then swept down and up her body, as if he was taking some sort of mental inventory. "So you've come down to the beach to greet me, just like a good wife. How gratifying. Even if we're yet to wed."
    Mariah swept her hair out of her face. "A lapse your family seems eager to rectify, although they've agreed that I should have these next weeks to...to prepare," she said as he began walking once more and she turned, falling into step beside him.
    Spencer nodded, pushing his windblown hair out of his eyes. "Yes. Elly took me aside and explained to me about brides-clothes and embroidered handkerchiefs—and a woman's body after giving birth."
    Mariah felt herself flushing with embarrassment. "She shouldn't have told you about that."
    "No, you're right. I should have known. And are you.. .recovering?"
    "I'm not an invalid," she shot back angrily.' "Perhaps I should be more concerned for you. You look exhausted." "Only because I am. We ran ahead of the storm all the way, but it will be here soon. Tell me more about William, if you please."
    "He's an infant. They really don't do much, you know, save eat and sleep. He's ravenous twenty-four hours a day," Mariah told him, smiling in spite of herself, for her love for that infant seemed to grow by the hour. "Piggish, like his father."
    "Not quite