Mrs. McVinnie's London Season (36 page)

Jeannie sprang to her
feet this time. “God in heaven,” she exclaimed, her hands to her
face.

With a slight smile, he
took her hands from her face and clasped them in front of her.
“Don’t swear, Jeannie,” he said.

She shook her head.
“Don’t tease about it.”

“
I’m
not teasing, my dear. It’s the only way I can bear it.”

She sat down again
slowly and the captain rested his hands on her shoulders, his long
fingers light but firm. His hands did not tremble this time. For
the briefest moment, she rested her cheek against his hand.

“
When
do you leave?” she asked, her voice low.

He released his grip
and sagged down into the chair beside her. “That’s the damnedest
part of all, Jeannie,” he said. “There’s nothing in that note about
my leaving. Not a damned word. Lord Smeath has no intention of
losing his handy substitute during Larinda’s London Season. The
Venture
can rot for all he cares.”

“
It
will come into port, won’t it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No.
There are lighters in the Channel Fleet with spare masts. They’ve
probably already stepped another mast.”

“
Surely he will change his mind and release you from these
ridiculous orders,” Jeannie said.

“
I
will go to the Admiralty House first thing in the morning and wait
in that damned anteroom until he sees me. If he will see me,” he
added, and passed his hand in front of his eyes. “I’ve seen him
keep captains posted higher than I waiting for days.”

The thought sent him
bounding to his feet again. He went to the window and wrenched up
the glass, leaning out into the east wind that blew across his
face, a breeze that mocked as it cooled.

“
I
hate overheated rooms,” he raged, “and floors that don’t move, and
how
quiet
this place is. There’s no boom of the sails when
they lower, and no rigging to sing.” He leaned against the wall and
stared at her, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Jeannie, have
you ever been wild to be somewhere, just wild?”

It was her turn to rise
and walk to the window, to breathe deep of the cool night air. It
braced her as she considered the view outside for a moment, made
her decision, and turned around to face the captain.

“
Oh,
Will, I have been wild to be somewhere,” she said
quietly.

The intensity of her
voice startled Summers. He watched her as she came away from the
window, and then held out his hand to her.

“
Tell
me, Jeannie,” he said, the frustration and worry gone from his
voice as though it had never been there.

Why am I doing this?
she thought. Do I want his approbation? His pity? She looked at
him, really took in the agitation in his eyes. Or do I love him so
much that I want to divert his mind from his own troubles? I wish I
knew.

“
I
should not,” she began. “It is not a subject I had ever thought to
discuss with anyone, and assuredly not a man.”

‘‘
Tell
me, Jeannie,” he repeated, and tugged on her hand until she came
away from the window and sat down next to him. He hitched his chair
closer and patted her hand. ‘‘There ought to be something in the
Articles of War about the duties of impressed crew to tell the
captain whatever he asked, but there is not.”

She smiled, because he
expected her to. ‘‘I tell you only because you will likely be going
away soon, and I do not wish you to think ill of me,” she said.

‘‘
I
already do not think ill of you, dear Jeannie McVinnie,” he
replied, “and you know it.”

“
Then
you are alone in the world in that respect, sir,” Jeannie said
frankly. “There is an entire regiment that is convinced I deserted
its beloved Thomas McVinnie. As if I ever could,” she added more
softly, her eyes far away beyond the wall of the breakfast
parlor.

The steady pressure of
Captain Summers’ fingers on her hand recalled her to the moment and
she took a deep breath.

“
The
news of La Coruña came when I was visiting my sister Agnes in
Edinburgh,” she said. “I started out at once, of course, and by
myself. Most of the other wives left from Dumfries. I was to join
them in York.” She tightened her grip on Captain Summers’ hand.
“Oh, you don’t want to hear this!”

“
I do,
above anything I have ever heard, Jeannie,” was his quiet
reply.

“
None
of them knew.” She paused, took another deep breath and started
again. “None of them knew I was with child. I hadn’t even written
to Tom yet because I was shy about it, even with Tom. I knew he
would be so pleased, and Galen, too, but I didn’t want them to
worry about me alone in Scotland, and they so far away.”

“
That’s understandable,” the captain agreed. “There is nothing
more profitless than the quarterdeck frets.”

She nodded. “You
understand.”

“
Most
certainly. Why do you think that when sailors get a packet of
letters all at once, they read the last one first, just to make
sure everything is right and tight at home?”

Jeannie brightened. “I
do that, too! Or rather, I used to. But there I was.”

“
Jeannie, how far along were you?” the captain
asked.

“
Five
months, and a little more,” she replied, remembering again as her
eyes clouded over. “Just far enough along to have established
‘considerable rapport,’ as Agnes, who has four of her own, would
put it.” She smiled at the puzzled look on his face. “Captain, the
baby was moving about by then and I had someone to talk to instead
of just myself. And such company he was.”

“
Oh.”
Captain Summers waited a moment more and, when she did not
continue, prodded her. “And so you started out from
Edinburgh?”

“
I
did. We got as far as Penicuik, and the carriage suffered the loss
of a wheel.” She frowned down at her hands, which were entwined in
the captain’s. “We were going quite slow, and it was the merest
bump. Will, I thought nothing of it, really. They procured another
carriage and we set out again.”

She looked him in the
eye. “How do these things happen? I was so careful. And yet, the
pains began, and I suffered a miscarriage on that mail coach.”

She closed her eyes
against the memory of it and bowed her head as her face paled.
“There were all those men on the coach, and none of us knew what to
do. I could only sit there and watch the carriage floor turn
red.”

“
Oh,
Jeannie,” the captain said. “And you had no friend beside
you?”

She shook her head, but
did not raise it. “They took me back to Penicuik, and the
landlord’s wife put me to bed. But there wasn’t anything anyone
could do.”

The captain was silent.
He put his arm around her.

“
When
it did not appear that I would stop bleeding, the landlord sent his
son bareback on a horse to Edinburgh to the medical college, thank
God for that. Dr. Cruikshank pulled me through.”

Jeannie raised her head
then and looked the captain in the eye for a brief moment. “I don’t
remember anything, really, except that I felt so cold. And
empty.”

She shivered at the
thought, freed her fingers from the captain’s hand, and wrapped her
arms about her middle. The captain poured her a jolt of brandy,
handed it to her, and she drank it without a murmur.

“
See
here, sir,” she protested mildly, “you will have me a drunken sot
before too many more days pass.”

He only smiled and put
his arm around her again. “Surely the regiment understood when you
told them what had happened. No power on earth or in heaven could
have got you to Portsmouth.”

“
Indeed, no,” she replied as she set down the glass and took up
her narrative. “I didn’t remember anything for more than a week.
After I was coherent again, I told Dr. Cruikshank my dilemma, and
he addressed an immediate letter to Colonel Lord Mackey in
Portsmouth, explaining the circumstances.”

Jeannie shrugged off
his arm about her shoulders and rose to her feet. “We waited for a
reply, and the most curious letter came back. I shall never forget
it, even when I have forgotten everything else about the whole
dreadful time.”

She walked to the end
of the table and sat down there, placing her hands facedown in
front of her. “I tore it into a thousand pieces, but I’ll remember
it until I die, Will, and probably beyond.” She put her hands
together. “He informed me that Tom was dead, and Galen so close to
death that there was hardly a difference. He wrote that he would
not breathe a word about the baby to Galen, for fear the sad news
would tip him over the edge, and I was not to say anything
either.”

“
Good
God, what a monster,” the captain exclaimed.

“
No,
no, I do not think so,” Jeannie replied. “He was just more
concerned about the welfare of his men than anything else. And he
had this else to tell: Galen had a bad heart, and this definitely
would have been his last campaign, no matter the outcome. The
doctor assured him that my sad news, on top of all the rest, would
not be good then, nor later. Yours sincerely,” she finished as she
tried to swallow the gall that rose with the memory.

“
But
surely the regiment,” he began, and then stopped, his own face
bitter. “No. He told no one, did he? He couldn’t.”

“
You
have it, sir. And his wife started those rumors about my cowardice.
He said nothing to her in my defense and Galen was none the
wiser.”

Jeannie sighed and got
restlessly to her feet again. The only sound in the room was the
rustle of her dress as she walked up and down. “When I could walk
again, I went home to Kirkcudbright and signed for Tom’s coffin
four weeks later. I buried our little bairn with him. No one knew
except Agnes. My brother-in-law had been away on family business in
Fort William, and I made her promise not to tell him. He would have
created a muckle row and, in truth, Galen was so sick.”

“
But
Jeannie, the unfairness,” the captain began, and then clapped his
hands together in exasperation. “Oh, damn the man!”

Jeannie walked around
to the captain and rested her hands on his shoulders, this time in
a soothing gesture. “Nay. He was so kind,” she said as her voice
hardened. “Only think ye, he wrote me a letter and assured me that
someone as bonnie as I would find another man and there would be
other bairns.” Her grip tightened on his shoulders. “But I didn’t
want another man, and I wanted that baby! Men are heartless, Will.
I wonder that women tolerate them.”

Captain Summers smiled
faintly, but said nothing. He covered her hands with his own, and
they remained in silence until Jeannie looked up and noticed that
the dawn was coming.

“
Goodness, it is late,” she said.

“
Early, my dear, very early,” the captain corrected. He removed
his hands from Jeannie’s and stood up. “You must tell Galen,” he
said. “You must write to him at once.”

She shook her head.
“Don’t you see that I cannot?”

“
I
don’t see it, and you wouldn’t either if you thought it through. He
deserves to know, and if it gives his heart a jolt, well, that is
the fortune of war, I suppose.”

Jeannie shook her head
again. “I cannot agree.” She smiled up at the captain and backed
away from him. “It’s enough for me to know that somewhere in the
world, tossing about on some pesky ocean or other, is someone who
knows and, I think, cares.”

“
Oh, I
do, most emphatically,” Captain Summers agreed. “And we don’t toss,
we pitch. And yaw, but only occasionally.” He laughed then, a
self-deprecating laugh with a touch of shyness in it that Jeannie
found delightful. “And do you know what? You’ll think this silly
beyond belief, but I had almost worked up my nerve to propose to
you tonight, after that dance. You know, when I dragged you onto
the balcony. And then all those damned people came.”

Jeannie stared at him.
“But that was before I told you all this. That was when all you had
to go on was Bartley’s sudden disgust of me. I don’t
understand.”

He took her hands
again. “Jeannie, you block, I told you I didn’t believe a word of
that.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers,
keeping his eyes on her face. “I love you. Silly, isn’t it?”

I love you, too,
Jeannie thought, even though the entire prospect is ridiculous in
the extreme, and you will shortly realize that, I am sure.

“
Love
isn’t silly,” she hedged.

“
Mine
is,” he replied, and tugged her closer. “I’ve never been in love
before. I feel sillier than Larinda at her blasted Season. When I
don’t see your face close by, I’m miserable.” He laughed that
self-conscious laugh again. “I went to play whist tonight to work
up a bit of courage to declare myself, and lost every hand.
Jeannie, I never lose at whist. It must be love.”

She laughed and touched
his cheek. “You’re a bit feverish, too. I suppose you’ll say that
is love, too! Captain, I—”

He let go of her hands.
“I know, you’re going to tell me that you’re well aware of the
honor I do you, but—”

She touched his lips
with her fingers. “Oh, cease your blathering, Captain! All I was
going to say was that it is rather sudden and I would like a little
time to think about it.”

“
We
don’t have any time, Jeannie,” he reminded her. “I could be out of
here by this afternoon, and then it’s back to that infernal
blockade.”