Elizabeth Meyette - [Love's 01] by Love's Destiny

various chores. Voices ran together in the churning, noisy bedlam.
    “It could be a pier in London,” Emily thought, “or, for that matter, in any country. People are not so different though oceans separate them.”
    “May I escort you ashore, Miss Wentworth?” Jonathon’s eyes sparkled as he offered her his arm.
    “Thank you, Captain. Your Virginia is living up to your mad ranting, thus far. But you still have much to prove, ‘Mountains that touch the floor of heaven, vast acres of Brentwood land …’”
    “So you were listening. I am honored,” he bowed.
    Emily stopped, embarrassed. “There was precious little else to do on this long, lonely sea voyage, Captain.”
    “Lonely, Em? With you aboard I was not lonely at all,” he grinned. She gave him a withering look.
    They descended the gangplank with Andrew and found Mr. Gates. Emily and Andrew studied the busy wharf as the two men spoke. Soon Jonathon returned.
    “Would you mind a carriage ride after our long journey? We could stay at the Raleigh Tavern in Williamsburg. I am anxious for news of home, and that is where it is to be found,” he said. “Mr. Gates will tend to the ship.”
    Emily and Andrew agreed, and soon they were bouncing along the road in a carriage. Jonathon sat across from them and Emily often felt his eyes upon her. She continued to look at the passing scenery; elation welling within her at the beauty of the countryside as well as the attention Jonathon paid her.
    • • •
    The coach lamps were lit after sunset and candlelight flickered off faces glowing with anticipation, excitement, and curiosity. Finally they reached Williamsburg and the coach halted before the Raleigh Tavern.
    Voices filled the common room as debates and discussions held the patrons’ attention. One man facing the doorway caught sight of the three arrivals as they entered. Excusing himself, the man rose quickly and approached them.
    “Jonathon! I had thought the devil had taken you,” he exclaimed, his hazel eyes never leaving Emily. Rusty colored hair framed his handsome, jovial face. He was as tall as Jonathon and as broad in the shoulders.
    “Randolph, he would not have me… nor you!” Jonathon answered in high spirits. “May I present my w — ?”
    “Your wife!” Randolph exclaimed. Emily’s eyes grew large and Jonathon’s mouth dropped. Andrew just laughed. “Where did you find a woman who’d have you?”
    “Not my wife. My ward!”
    “Your ward?” he asked incredulously. “Then you are a fool, man!” Randolph boomed. Emily looked from one man to the other not sure whether she should be enraged or amused. Jonathon had a wicked twinkle in his eye.
    “Perhaps you are right, Randy. Maybe I should reconsider this relationship and set it aright. Picture me around the hearth with my sweet Emily and our brood of children.”
    Emily blushed furiously and shot him a warning glance.
    “So Emily is your name. I thought this raving madman would never get on with the introductions. Emily who?”
    “Emily Wentworth, sir. And may I present my brother, Andrew.”
    Randy bent and kissed her hand, then shook Andrew’s. “I am pleased to meet you. I am Randolph William O’Connor.” He bowed low. “You are George Wentworth’s children?”
    Emily nodded.
    “I met your father. He was a fine man. I was sorry to hear of his death.”
    “Thank you, Mr. O’Connor.”
    “Randy, please. All my friends call me Randy.” He slapped Jonathon on the back. “Jonathon does, too.”
    “A rascal he is and be warned,” Jonathon countered. “I am anxious for news, Randy. The rumors I have heard sound ominous.”
    “Aye, things are moving, Jonathon. Come have an ale and some supper.”
    Conversation was light over a supper of hearty stew, warm rye bread and ale. Talk centered around plantation life, births, deaths, and marriages. Local politics were alluded to, but Emily sensed beneath it all an urgency to move on to important events that would require more than