Nobody's Saint Read Online Free Page A

allowed to return to Ireland and marry as she would. Now, a full two weeks before the appointed day, they were in a carriage bound for the harbor.
    She was the last to care what Sir Calder might say about her mother or herself. Ha! She pulled aside the window shade and peered outside in a gesture of complete dismissal. She heard her grandfather snort again, but she ignored him.
    The port was bustling, despite the cold rain. Crates were loaded and unloaded from tall ships with masts that seemed to scrape the very clouds that showered them. The air was heavy with the smells of sea, rain, and fish. Mary Kate’s eyes eagerly scanned the side of each vessel until she spied the one she sought. Fortune !
    “There!” she cried out, but the sound was lost in the clip clopping of the horses’ hooves and the laughter and shouts from the crowded streets through which the conveyance slowly progressed. Shutting the window shade, she turned back to Sir Calder. “Does he know which ship?” she asked.
    “I thought you had stopped speaking to me,” Sir Calder said dryly. “More’s the pity. Still, I’ll be quit of that shrill voice of yours soon enough. Yes, the driver knows which ship.”
    Unable to sit still, Mary Kate bounced lightly in her seat, pleased to see her grandfather frown in annoyance. With a smile, she broke into one of her father’s much-loved drinking songs. It was her favorite, and one that had helped her put to route more than one would-be husband. She was still humming it softly under her breath after she had boarded the ship and two burly sailors, reeking of whiskey and sweat, had dropped her two trunks onto the floor of her cabin.
    “I’ve no need of your fancy finery,” she said to Sir Calder, who had accompanied her to her quarters. Actually, she was rather shocked that he was sending her off with the expensive clothes he had purchased for her.
    “Well, you’ll take it with you anyway. Consider this your trousseau.”
    Mary Kate cast him a look of begrudging respect. “You’re not too sore a loser, I’ll give you that. A trousseau to marry me a fine, strapping Irish lad?”
    The corner of Sir Calder’s mouth lifted, and his eyes nearly smiled. “I’m sending a dowry, too. ‘Twill be kept in the hold, though.”
    An uneasy feeling slithered down Mary Kate’s spine. As the two men who had brought her trunks took their leave, she nodded to them. Sir Calder turned to follow.
    “A dowry?” she asked, stopping him at the threshold of the cabin door. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. “You’re far more generous than I gave you credit for.”
    Sir Calder’s sneer finally broke into a full grin. “It took a sizable sum to convince your fiancé to take you, sight unseen, all your faults honestly laid upon the table.”
    “My what?”
    “Of course, my title was an incentive. A baronetcy may seem a trifling to you, Mary Katherine, but for the youngest son of a nobleman, one used to the privilege of nobility but with no hope of inheriting, it seems it will do.”
    Mary Kate advanced upon the old man. “What are you saying? What are you talking about?”
    “The youngest son of an acquaintance owns a ship building company in Port Royal. ‘Tis a fair piece more work than he’s inclined to do. We have come to an agreement. He will marry you and keep you out of my sight until the two of you produce a couple of males—an heir and a spare, as it were. At that point, he and the boys will return to England, with or without you and any daughters. Suit yourself in the matter.”
    “P-Port Royal?” Mary Kate sputtered, unable to grasp all that he had told her.
    “Jamaica,” Sir Calder clarified. “I’m sure you’ll accustom yourself to it. I hear the climes are warm and the water fair. Have a pleasant journey, Mary Katherine.”
    Before she could react, he left, slamming the door behind him. She threw herself against the portal just in time to hear a bolt slide into place on the other