An Indelicate Situation (The Weymouth Trilogy) (21 page)

That evening, feeling a little low but disinclined to walk out due to the inclemency of the weather, Maggie determined on visiting the study to establish the extent of the books it had to offer. As a girl she had generally enjoyed browsing for an hour or so, although her taste could hardly be described as superior, but what with one thing and another – her establishment with the Wrights, their removal to Weymouth, the extent of her duties with Augusta and Will – she had not, until now, ventured
to indulge her interest very
much
for the past six months or more
.

The study door was open a
nd, not realising that anyone
was at home, Maggie walked straight in without so much as a knock. It was therefore a bit of a surprise to her to be confronted by the sight of Mr Wright, who was seated at a
slightly battered Sheraton writing desk
which was
covered in what looked to be
papers and
books of accounts.

‘Oh,’ she said, stopping in her tracks and blushing furiously. William looked up at her and his face broke into a smile. ‘I am so sorry, Mr Wright. I should have knocked. I had no notion of your being at home at all.’

Mr Wright
crinkled his eyes.

‘And why should you be sorry, my dear?’ he asked, rising from his seat and moving towards her
with some intent
. ‘You should know by now that there is nothing I like
better
than to have you
nearby.
You are most welcome to visit me whenever
you wish to – as long as
my
own
dear wife is not
around, of course.
And
indeed –
perhaps you secretly intended to find me on my own? After all,
how can I be sure that you
really
thought me
safely out of the way
?’

Maggie felt somewhat taken aback. It was somehow a little disconcerting to find that Mr Wright was apparently so assured of her interest in him that he could actually suggest that she had purposely sought him out.

‘Well, I can only assure you that I did not, sir,’ she countered. ‘I came to browse your selection of books. I had not intended to disturb your solitude at all.’

‘You disappoint me, then. I had felt certain that you had come on p
urpose to entertain me. But it’
s probably just as well, for my wife is due back at any moment with the twins – I am only surprised that they have lasted
out
so long – and I scarcely think it politic for her to find
you here with
me
,
secreted in this study on our own.’

And as if to prove the v
eracity
of his information, no sooner had the words left his lips than they could hear some childish shrieks emanating from the direction of the front door,
accompanied by the dulcet but equally loud tones of Mrs Wright as she attempted to prevent one of her
little
darling
s
from totally destroying the umbrella.

Mr Wright heaved a regretful sigh and retired into the hallway in order to provide some
r
einforcement
to his wife’s efforts to restrain their noisome offspring
from the worst of their destructive endeavours
. Maggie turned to watch him go and await the Wrights’ dissipation throughout the house before attempting to steal out of the study herself and return
in safety
to her room. She was feeling a little confused.
She would be
very
glad
indeed to have
some spare
time
for her thoughts
.

Miss Brewer
, having just taken her leave of some friends
at
the Royal Hotel near her home
the following day
, was standing outside said institution on Weymouth Esplanade
with the studiedly casual air of someone who had determined on meeting up with someone whilst wishing to make the encounter appear totally accidental.

Someone, indeed, in the cumbersome form of Mr Staveley, did happen to pass her way at the required moment although from her immediate but swiftly hidden reaction it was apparent that he was not the particular object of her thoughts just then. Nevertheless, Miss Brewer was nothing if not quick witted. She swiftly spotted an opportunity in this chance en
counter
, smiled sweetly at her delighted companion, and immediately offered him her hand.

‘Well m
...
met, M
...
Miss B
...
Brewer,’ said the gentleman, reddening a little. ‘I see that you are enjoying the fresh sea air this m
...
morning.’

The lady inclined her head prettily.

‘As are you,
apparently,
Mr Staveley. I have been watching the sea bathing. The dippers are particularly busy today. I must
say it holds no appeal to me,’
shuddering. ‘Even in the summer I expect the water to feel most unpleasantly cold.’

Mr Staveley gave out a chuckle.

‘It is indeed. I have had the mi
..
.misfortune to
experience it for m
...
myself on
more than one occasion. I had quite a rep
..
.reputation at one time for tum
..
.tumbling from the shi
p. It is more
pleasant in the Cari
..
.Caribbean, however. The water there
is crystal clear and warm as a
bath. I used to jum
..
.jump in voluntarily as a
boy.’

Here was a chance for Miss Brewer to effect a plan. She took it up at once.

‘Do you know, Mr Staveley, I have never in my life been on board a ship. Is
that not s
ingular, having lived on the coast for most of my life? It is something
that
I have longed to do for a lifetime and never really bee
n given the chance. I wonder,’
smiling into his eyes, ‘I wonder whether it might be possible for you to accompany me to the quayside? I know for a fact that at least one of the boats in which my father has invested is moored there just at the moment. I feel persuaded that I might be given the opportunity to step on board if I go along to see it.
I have long been interested in ships, you know
, and I should love to
learn
everything the
re
is to know about them
. I
know very little as yet. I
greatly admire gentlemen
– like you
-
who risk life and limb every day of the year to sail off around the world.
’

Although it was not entirely convenient, Mr Staveley having engaged with Captain
Wright
to visit him at his house on High Street later that morning, this was nevertheless an opportunity to impress Miss Brewer that was far too good to miss. After all, was he not an officer in His Majesty’s Royal Navy? Were ships and sailing not his life’s work? Of course they were. He could talk endlessly about the sea, show her all sorts of interesting details, entertain her for a lifetime on
the deck of
a ship. So he immediately revised his plans, offered Miss Brewer his arm, which she graciously took, and headed off down The Esplanade towards St Thomas Street and on to Weymouth quay.

The quayside was busy, as always, and embellished by the distinctive aroma of fish – an aroma which was apparently not at all to
the
liking of the
lady’s
delicate
sensibilities
.

‘Oh how disgusting,’ she complained, taking a scented muslin handkerchief from her little reticule and holding it limply to her nose. ‘I really do not see the need for all these common fishermen to display their wares in public. Why can they not take the horrid things to a market like normal people would?’

If Mr Staveley thought this a slightly hypocritical statement, considering the gusto with which the very same lady had tackled the fish course when last she had dined at Mr Wright’s, he was far too gentlemanly to say so. Instead, he gallantly agreed that the smell of fish was certainly not the most inviting accompaniment to a walk along the quay, and tried to distract her attention by explaining the differences between the various types of ship which were just then moored alongside it.

‘And this one is a b
..
.brig,
Miss B
..
.Brewer,’ he
was saying. ‘You can tell that
b
ecause the fore
-
m
..
.mast
...
.’

‘Oh,’ broke in the lady, her attention being caught by an entirely different vessel moored further along the quay. ‘Is that not Mr Rowley
-
Jones’ ship, Mr Staveley? I am sure it must be, for it is just as he
described
it to me. Can you determine its name?’

Mr Staveley was not at all sure that he wished to escort Miss Brewer
in the direction of
the ship of a young gentleman who was more than capable of impressing her with knowledge of his own but he was left with little option but to submit to her eager tugging and
accompany
her reluctantly towards
i
t.

Fortune appeared to smile on Miss Brewer that day, for almost as soon as she and Mr Staveley had arrived at the elegant sloop which did indeed bear the name of Mr Rowley
-
Jones’ privateer than that gentleman himself
materialised
from a similar direction to
the one from which they
themselves
had arrived only a very few moments before. He
immediately bestowed a most elegant bow
upon her
,
which was boldly
accompanied by
a kiss of her outstretched hand
.

‘Ha, you have taken up my offer, I see, Miss Brewer,’ he acknowledged, providing her companion with a nod which was remarkable only for its slightness considering how well the gentlemen concerned were known to
each other
. ‘Would you
care to
do me the honour of stepping aboard? I should be delighted to give you the benefit of a short look around. Mr Staveley, I know, will not mind me robbing him of your company. After all, he spent a good few weeks upon
the ‘Sylph’
when he shared my journey
back home.’

‘I am sure he will not, Mr Rowley
-
Jones,’ lisped Miss Brewer. ‘I am sure
that
he must have better things to do with his time than to look over a ship with which he is already far more familiar than he might wish
to be
.’

In the normal run of events there was no way in which Mr Staveley would have succumbed to this hint to be off and given up his lady
in
to
the care of
Mr Rowley
-
Jones with little more than a token protest. But
he could
see that Miss Brewer appeared to be perfectly happy to swap one young gentleman for another
. He also knew
that h
is appointment with Captain Wright
,
an officer senior to himself, after all
,
was an important one and
, from the bells now
ringing from the church in St Mary Street
,
it
was clear
that
he was already some
good few minutes
late
. Much to his chagrin
he found that he was quite unable to formulate any argument for remaining with Miss Brewer other
than his own inclination, and this
,
it must be said
, counted for nothing
with anybody
else
at all. So, having already been
forced to relinquish his lady
from his arm by dint of her removing her own
little hand
from
his grasp, and finding that she was already so far on board as to be taking Mr Rowley
-
Jones’ hand as she edged daintily along the plank, he merely mumbled his excuses, gave a sweeping bow which no
-
one else appeared to notice, and retreated in some state of resentment towards the town bridge and across the river to the other side of the quay.