Chapter 2

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At last! After two interminable weeks, she was finally preparing to leave this one-horse town for good, on the arm of the man she loved! Emmaline silently set her satchel atop her bed, opening its mouth wide in order to cram as much as she could into its cavity. Because of the stealthy nature of this leave-taking, since Edward would no doubt try to stop her from running away with Lancelot if he caught her, Emmaline could only take so much from her hope chest. A few fine table linens, the most delicate cotton bridal nightgown trimmed in silk ribbons with matching dressing gown, some of her mother’s jewelry, and changes of clothes. Not that she had many everyday items, Emmaline sneered. Edward’s constant harangue of “There’s no money for fripperies!” kept Emmaline counting pennies and rewashing clothes continually.

But not anymore. Not after tonight. Tonight Lancelot returned from his inland passage, dropping anchor momentarily on the pretense of picking up last minute supplies, but really so that she, Emmaline Townsend, soon to be Mrs. Lancelot Fairchild, could scurry on board under the cloak of darkness. By the time her brother found out she was gone, they would be sailing out of Astoria, into the Pacific Ocean towards San Francisco. Hallelujah! No more calico dresses with the hems let out. No more burns on her arms from carrying too hot plates. No more mud, no more rough-edged, unsophisticated men who climbed trees for a living! No more waiting on anyone! After all, Lancelot owned a mansion on Nob Hill in San Francisco, with maids and footmen; even a butler!

Emmaline twirled around her room, suppressing a squeal of anticipation with fingers over her mouth. It wouldn’t do to alert her brother. Edward already disliked Lancelot; said he was just filling her head with nonsense and didn’t mean any of the fancy words he spouted. Tossing that filled head and glancing into the looking glass, Emmaline made a face at her reflection. Her brother was just full of sour grapes. After all, he’d lost the woman he loved, found no one to replace her, and was destined to remain in this washed out town for the rest of his life. Of course he’d want his sister’s company, and would try to defame Lancelot in the process. Which is exactly what her future husband said the other night when they met once more in the boat house.

“You can’t blame your brother, Emmie. You’re a lot of company for him right now, and he’s going to miss you when you’re gone. I’m being very selfish by taking you all for myself.” Here Lancelot pulled Emmaline into his arms, lowering his mouth to hers hungrily on a sheepish grin. Immediately she melted against the sea captain, eagerly returning the kiss with abandon. Since she’d been introduced to the art of lovemaking, Emmaline couldn’t get enough. Kisses, hugs, all forms of affection drew her to Lancelot over and over like a moth to a flame, content to burn her wings for the ability to express her love physically.

Drawing away on a gasp of much-needed air, Emmaline giggled, saying, “Be selfish, Lancelot!  I am all yours! My brother had his chance at happiness, and she changed her mind. I don’t want to be like him. I have an opportunity at fulfilling my dreams; we have a chance together! I’m not going to let him take it away!” This last became mumbled, for Emmaline’s sea captain didn’t waste any time in doing as she’d instructed. Already his hands were busy at the hooks on the front of her gown, peeling it away to expose the young body eager for his caresses. As had all their trysts, this one ended on the floor of the boat house in a puddle of clothes. Amidst sighing promises and grunts of fulfillment, Lancelot claimed Emmaline at least twice that night, like all the other nights before. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her innocence, her fervor, as Emmaline had become an apt pupil in lovemaking skills, enthusiastic to please her lover, her future husband…

Now, meeting her gaze in the mirror, Emmaline bit her lip against the rise of excitement at the prospect of running away tonight, to start that wonderful life in the arms of the man she loved, to marry him and remain at his side for eternity—

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