Samantha squinted and put her arm over her eyes as Maria opened the curtains, flooding the bedroom with sunlight. Samantha groaned as Maria yanked the covers from her bed. "Rise and shine, dear. You've got a big day ahead of you!"
"Do I, now?" Samantha sat up and stretched, hopping out of bed as Maria withdrew a light gown from the wardrobe. It was the same shade of blue as Samantha's eyes. Removing her bedclothes, Samantha eyed the gown and said, "It must not be too big of a day if I'm not wearing a gown that weighs more than I do."
Maria handed the gown to Samantha, who stepped into it and held her hair aside for Maria to tie the back of it. The maid patted her shoulder and assured her, "Trust me on this one, love." Samantha nodded and began to braid her silky brown hair. She finished getting ready in silence. She looked out her window at the bay, the sea birds swarming around the sails of the merchant vessels docked there.
Thanking Maria for her assistance, she stepped out of her room and descended the wide, curving staircase. She glanced around the bend to see none other than Cutler Beckett, in a deep green velvet coat, clean white breeches, with his usual blonde ponytail. He was chatting quietly with her father, who had gotten Beckett his job at the EITC. They both turned and smiled at her as she came around the bend in the staircase. Stepping lightly from the bottom stair, she smiled at him and curtsied. His hazel eyes lit up with emotions Samantha didn't recognize and the corners of mouth twitched as he watched her every move.
Cutler spoke, "Good morning, Samantha. You look beautiful, as always." He sighed audibly, releasing the breath he had been holding in his lungs.
Samantha curtsied again. "Thank you, Mr. Beckett." She clasped her hands in front of her lap, the action mentally shielded her from Beckett's greedy, wandering eyes.
Beckett stepped forward, bowing deeply and grabbing one of Samantha's hands and holding it gently, stroking the back of it with his thumb. "Please, call me Cutler. I would die a happy man to hear my name come from your lips." As he said this, his other hand rose to trace her jaw line, the thumb trailing along her cheek and lips. He placed a gentle, yet formal kiss on her hand, causing her to blush and withdraw her hand towards her chest.
Her father stepped forward, putting his arm around Beckett's shoulder as if he were a son. He spoke to Samantha proudly. "Cutler has just been given the title of 'Lord' in recognition of his services to the East India Trading Company. He requests that you accompany him on a tour of the land he's also been awarded." Cutler's lips curled into a grin, proudly squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms in front of his body. Samantha nodded and curtsied, once again, in acknowledgement of the proud man's accomplishments. Her father spoke again, "Tell her the rest of the news, won't you, Cutler?"
Cutler grinned smugly and began to speak. "Your father and I have discussed—"
Her father interrupted, "Your mother was a fine woman, Samantha. Ever since you were a young girl we have been able to see that you too would be a fine woman. And here you are today, eighteen years old, with as much elegance and poise as the queen herself, yet as intelligent, witty, and strong-hearted as the most respectable businessmen. I have been receiving letters from suitors for years. I ignored all except for one of the first ones I received. It was from Cutler, who has always been such a promising young man! Knowing what's best for you, I accepted his proposal on your behalf. Now that he has fulfilled his potential in his newly acquired Lordship, I have never been more proud. It's like having the son I've always wanted…" He clapped Beckett on the back, who momentarily lost his balance. "Now, your coach is waiting. Go enjoy yourselves." He winked at Beckett, who led Samantha out to a black coach with wooden trim, pulled by four horses. After helping her climb in, he stepped in himself and sat beside her, allowing the driver to close the door.
Samantha merely stared out the window, feeling hundreds of different things at once. She felt angry and betrayed that she had gotten no say in who she would marry. She felt trapped. She felt guilty because she would never love Beckett as a wife should. She had always shown him courtesy because he was a family friend, but she inwardly despised him. He was overly ambitious, greedy, proud, cruel…she wondered how many good men he had ruthlessly punished after branding them as pirates or traitors to the crown. She wondered how many men he had denied of their freedom, and she shuddered to think that her freedom would soon be as limited. As a single woman, she was the life of any gathering, going toe to toe with the noblest of men in debates or jokes over any issue. She was respected and loved among the lower classes because she would sit and listen to the stories of anyone, no matter how lowly. She was so respected for her business sense and her knowledge of the sea, which she learned from her father, that if she was a man she would have gotten far in the East India Trading Company. Although no one pretended that she was anything like the ideal woman—docile, quiet, and obedient—they did not claim that her presence was anything but an honor. As Cutler Beckett's wife, she would be reduced to an arm ornament, quietly living in the Lord's shadow, only using her brain when he wanted to be entertained. She would be nothing more than a prized she-dog, producing as many of the finest offspring as her master desired. She would be confined to a mansion raising children as he sailed the high seas. This was what her father thought was best for her? She frowned as she watched the passing scenery.
Noticing her silence, Cutler placed his hand over hers, which was resting on her thigh. "I feel just as overwhelmed as you do," he said. "As I watched you become the woman you are, I couldn't help being proud that you would someday be my wife. I've brought you with me today because I'd like you to help plan the construction of our home. After all, you and my sons will spend more time there than I will." He scooted closer to her so that there would be more contact between their sides.
She clenched her teeth when he did not acknowledge that he would have any daughters, or that the children would be hers as much as his. "How kind of you to include me. I'm sure we will build a suitable home for our children," she said.
"That's the spirit," he said. "It will have to be a large house. I'd like at least ten sons." He looked off into the distance dreamily.
"That's an awful lot of children, Cutler. Surely we'll be tired long before we have that many!" She didn't even want to imagine the toll that having ten children would have on her slender body. She was afraid that she might not live through a single birth if the baby was too large.
"I'll never grow tired of you. My past conquests have ranged from low-class pig women to Lord's daughters. They were nothing more than cheap thrills throwing themselves onto their knees before me, and I grew tired of them very quickly…but you ignite a fire in my soul that no one else has. You have a wild light in you eye that draws me like a moth. I've longed to tame you by making you mine alone. And now that day is in sight, and I find it a challenge to wait until my wedding night…" As he said this, he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, leaning close and breathing the last sentence into her ear. He lifted her chin and turned her face towards his. Her eyes widened as he leaned in and captured her lips in his.
Just as he pulled back, eyes still closed and breathing heavily, the coach stopped suddenly, nearly sending them both tumbling to the floor. They straightened themselves on the seat, Beckett resuming his position on the other end of the seat. They looked at each other in confusion, wondering why the coach had stopped. The door opened, and the young, wide-eyed, freckled-faced driver stuck his head in. He quickly glanced at each of them and said, "Lord Beckett, I regret to inform you that the wheels have been caught in mud. The horses can't get it out."
Beckett looked thoughtfully at the young man and scratched his chin. Samantha spoke up first. "We'll detach the horses from the coach and ride them back to Port Royal. When we get there, you can get someone with more horses to help you pull it out." The men looked at her, mouths open, wondering why they hadn't thought of that. She shrugged her shoulders and made her way towards the coach door. The driver was knee-deep in mud, but he held his arms out to her, offering to help her to dry land. She waved him off and pulled her dress up around her knees, revealing the olive toned skin of her slender legs. She stepped down onto the first step of the coach, then leapt across the mud puddle, landing neatly on the firm, leaf-covered ground. As she did this, the men continued to stare at her in surprise. Still holding up her dress, she bowed with a flourish of her arm as if she was a magician doing tricks for an applauding audience. When she stood up, the three of them laughed hysterically. Beckett, not wanting to be outdone, jumped from the first step as well, landing a little more heavily than Samantha had.
They stood patiently as the driver unhitched all four horses from the hopelessly bogged down coach. The driver took a knife from his boot and cut the horses' reins, making them short enough to ride with. He led the first one to Samantha. Beckett clasped his hands together, and she put her knee on his hands, allowing him to lift her onto the horse. Once she was on the horse's back, his fingers lingered on her calf as he said, "You should have worn stockings; I don't want men looking at your skin…" With that, he and the driver mounted their own horses.
They began the ride back to town, the driver lagging behind because he was also leading the fourth horse. Beckett rode up beside Samantha and said, "It's actually nice to ride through the woods like this."
Samantha nodded. "It is. The woods are lovely…not quite as lovely as the sea though."
Beckett agreed. "That's quite true." They rode in silence for a while until the edge of town was in sight. "Samantha…your father and I were discussing our wedding…it will be a month from tomorrow, at the fort."
Samantha said nothing for the rest of the ride. Her mind had been racing all day. She had no feelings for Beckett…she had a month to accept her fate.