Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(59)

She slid her arms around his neck, rose to her tiptoes, and shamelessly pressed into him so that he had no choice but to stop teasing her and give her a real kiss.

He chuckled softly, as if he’d gotten the reaction he wanted. He then delivered what she’d longed for. His lips crashed against hers, meeting her passion with his own. He took her captive, letting his kiss linger until she could hardly breathe.

He broke away from her all too soon and tilted his head back. Her knees buckled, but his strong arms held her against him.

He smiled. “If you ask me, that seemed just a tad more than a friendly kiss.”

“Only a tad more,” she managed to say.

“Admit it. You love me too.”

She gazed up into his eyes. “I love you, Pierre. I love you more than life itself.”

“Then let’s get married,” he whispered. “There’s nothing stopping us. I want to stay with you on the island.”

“What about your fur trading?”

“Maybe it was once in my blood. But you’re all I want now.”

With the truth of his words reflected in his eyes, she couldn’t think of a single reason to say no to him. She pushed aside all the nagging doubts. She didn’t want to say no to him ever again.

“Say you’ll marry me,” he begged as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Pierre.”

At her declaration, he pulled back. “You will?”

The surprise and delight in his eyes brought a smile to her lips. “I will.”

“You’re not just saying yes because I’m such a good kisser, are you?”

She laughed. “Of course that’s why I want to marry you. What other reason could there possibly be?”

“Oh, let’s see. Because you think I’m incredibly handsome, and sweet, and fun. And because I can cook the best stuffed whitefish in the world.”

“And because you’re very conceited,” she teased.

“That too.”

His gaze held hers for a long moment, filled with longing. When he moved for another kiss, her lips quivered with the anticipation of it. He bent his head, and she parted her lips with a sigh, hungry for more of him.

A flurry of shouts from the direction of the government house stopped Pierre short. He pulled back and glanced toward the back door, his brow crinkling.

The music had ceased, replaced by harsh barking commands. The loud blast of the trumpet sounded from the fort and echoed over the town and bay. They looked to the bluffs and the cannons pointed over the front stone wall of the fort in perpetual readiness for an attack.

Pierre’s countenance turned grave, and he reached for Angelique’s hand. “Come on. Something’s wrong.”

As they hurried through the garden, her mind scrambled to make sense of the commotion and the shouts. By the time they made their way through the kitchen and back into the big room where everyone had gathered for the dance, Angelique was breathless.

She ran into Pierre’s back when he halted in the nearly deserted room. Through the open front door they could make out the red coats of the British rushing up the path that led to the fort. Lavinia hurried away on the arm of Lieutenant Steele, the gold of her gown glinting in the evening sunlight.

The musicians were hastily packing their instruments, while the remaining townspeople were busy gathering their belongings, their faces reflecting alarm. Ebenezer stood by the dessert table. He was filling his pockets with jam tarts.

“What happened?” Pierre demanded.

Ebenezer took a quick step away from the table and hid his hands behind his back. “The Americans are on the way.”

“How do you know?”

“An Indian messenger arrived with the news that the American fleet burned the British fort at St. Joseph’s to the ground and also seized and destroyed a North West Company ship full of trade goods over at Johnson’s Sault Sainte Marie post.”

Pierre began to remove his tailcoat, his face contorted into a scowl. Angelique wished she could drag him back out under the apple tree and pretend that none of this was happening.

He tossed his coat aside onto an empty chair and went to work on the cravat around his neck, yanking it as if it were choking him. “That means they’ll likely be here within a day or two.”

“That’s what the colonel thinks,” Ebenezer said.

“How many ships?” The hardness of Pierre’s tone sent a tremor of fear through Angelique.

“Five schooners.”

Pierre threw his necktie on top of his coat. He turned to Angelique, his eyes as steely as his voice. “I want you to go up to the fort and stay there with Lavinia in the officers’ quarters.”

Everyone knew the building would be the safest place on the island during an attack.

She started to nod, but Ebenezer shot her a look that silenced her. “She’s not going anywhere but back to the inn with me.”

“She belongs in the fort.”

“I’m in charge of her,” Ebenezer said. “I’ll say where she goes, not you. Especially when she’s dressed like a harlot.”

Angelique gasped at the insult. Pierre growled and in two long strides crossed toward Ebenezer. He grabbed the man’s shirt at his chest, half lifting and half shoving him back into the dessert table. Several serving platters crashed to the floor.