Her mouth tightened. ‘You would tease me, Captain Mariner? What kind of man would marry a dowerless woman?’
‘I will marry you,’ said Harry simply.
Bridget went still and was convinced that she must have misheard him. ‘I beg your pardon, Captain? I didn’t quite catch what you said.’
‘A marriage of convenience, Mistress McDonald,’ he said, meeting her gaze squarely. ‘You are a penniless woman alone in a foreign land and in need of a protector, and I have decided that a wife could be useful to me.’
She was stunned by his suggestion. ‘I cannot believe you would wish to marry me. I have naught to bring you.’
‘You are a beautiful woman and will enhance my life. I have roamed the seas for years and it has seldom bothered me that I have no wife or house to call home when I make landfall. Now I have decided that I will buy a house in some port and you can live there. Will that not suit you? You will not have to constantly tolerate my presence for I will be away on business some of the time. You can make a home for me and Joe. Do you think you can manage to do that? If you feel it is beyond your capacities, then say so now.’
Bridget was still feeling stunned by his proposal, but his reasoning sounded sensible. She had to give it serious thought, because what would happen to her if she turned him down? He might feel he no longer needed to feel responsible for her. He had been kind and tended her when she was ill. No doubt he had saved her life and not once had he taken advantage of her dependency on him. He appeared to be an honourable man. But what did he mean exactly by a marriage of convenience?
She cleared her throat. ‘I thank you for your offer, Captain, but does it not bother you that we scarcely know each other?’
He raised those devilishly dark eyebrows of his and drawled, ‘Most couples who make convenient matches are barely acquainted.’
Bridget knew this to be true. Even the King of England’s daughter, Margaret, had married the King of Scotland by proxy without ever having met him. ‘That is certainly true. You speak of a marriage of convenience—does that mean you intend this to be a match in name only or shall it be a proper marriage?’
He hesitated. ‘Perhaps we can discuss that when we are better acquainted.’
She could see the sense in that because it was possible that they both might have a change of heart in a few months’ time. But even so—She frowned. ‘Wouldn’t a housekeeper do you just as well?’
Harry blinked at her. ‘Am I to presume you would rather be my housekeeper?’
‘No! For what security would that give me?’ she said honestly, reaching out and touching his arm. ‘Yet what if, against all the odds, you were to meet another woman and fall in love with her? You might decide that you’d rather be rid of me.’
‘It is hardly likely, Mistress McDonald,’ he said ruefully. ‘But your point is worth considering, only maybe it will be you who will fall in love with another man. You are lovely. It isn’t as if you are stuck with an ugly visage like mine. Maybe you will come to hate looking at my face.’
She hesitated. ‘I confess I do not have a fondness for black beards. Perhaps if you shaved it off, I would marry you.’
Harry’s hand went to his beard in a defensive gesture. ‘Is that really necessary?’
‘No, it’s just that the slave trader had a black beard and I would rather not be reminded of him,’ she said.
Harry did not want her constantly thinking of the slave trader, either, as that would not bode well for their future. On the other hand, when she saw him without his beard and recognised him, as well as getting a good look at the disfiguring scar currently hidden beneath his beard, she would have more than one reason for refusing his offer. ‘What if I were to promise to shave it off after the wedding?’
She smiled. ‘That is a rare promise. I cannot believe you are as ugly as you say you are. I deem you just hide behind that beard because you wish to keep the women at bay.’
He grimaced. ‘I would like to hear you say that when you see me minus this beard,’ he said, touching his whiskers.
‘I deem you dwell too much on the importance of a person’s appearance. Surely it is what one’s heart is like that is more important.’
‘You can say that because you are lovely,’ said Harry, ‘not that I disagree with you about a person’s nature. I would add that, if you decide to accept my proposal, I will expect your complete loyalty to me once we are married.’
His words surprised her. ‘Why should you doubt my loyalty? You are offering me a home where I will rule when you are not there. I have no dowry, so no other man of worth would take me as I am. A home of my own is something I have never had before. Just like you, my home was a ship for several years. Even when I lived on land before sailing with my father, my home was either in my Irish grandfather’s keep or my uncle’s castle. It is true that there will be much for me to learn about organising a household, but I have seen how it is done and I have certain housewifery skills, such as sewing and cooking.’
‘Then you will agree to be my wife?’ asked Harry, his heart thudding as he waited for her answer.
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