Read Mrs. McVinnie's London Season Online

Authors: Carla Kelly

Tags: #history 1700s

Mrs. McVinnie's London Season (40 page)

BOOK: Mrs. McVinnie's London Season
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She touched his hand,
relieved when he did not draw away. “You can’t be a captain all the
time. It’s not really a crime to be human.” She took the sextant
from his hands and set it beside her chair. “Your ‘plaguey nephew,’
if I may quote you, destroyed your most valuable possession.”

He nodded and then
reached for her hands. “And now my esteemed brother-in-law has
taken away the rest of it, Jeannie. Ah, Jeannie.”

He gripped her hands
and raised them to his lips, not to kiss them but as though to stop
himself from saying any more.


Please tell me, Will, please,” she said, her voice urgent. He
had to speak.

He released her hands
as suddenly as he had grabbed them. “He will not see me. I watched
captains and lieutenants and middies come and go, and there I sat,
like a lump of ambergris. He will not hear me. He would rather the
Venture
sank to the bottom of the Channel than give up my
service as Larinda’s escort for this damned Season. God, I loathe
him.”

His voice was filled
with such hatred that Jeannie felt herself grow cold and hot in
turn. How could I ever, for the smallest moment, have thought I had
any hold on this man? she asked herself. He has no thought but for
his ship and crew. And yet I love him and I will marry him.

When she could speak,
she asked, “What did you do?”

Summers looked at her
then for the first time since he had sat down. “I tried another
tack. We captains always have another tack, Jeannie. It is our
stock-in-trade, our
deus ex machina
. ” He smacked one hand
into the other. “I will not go quietly aground on a lee shore,
Jeannie.”

He slumped down again
and shook his head. “Do you know what I did? I wrote a desperate
note to your quixotic protector, Mr. Beau Brummell himself. Pled
with him to speak to dear Freddy for me.” When her expression
remained blank, he continued. “The Duchess of York. I wonder that
it will help, but it might.” He chuckled to himself. “Of course, no
man likes his balls squeezed, but, Jeannie, I have to try. Forgive
that.”


Forgiven,” she said promptly, her face pink. “I hope it works.
You must be back at sea, and soon.”

He heaved himself from
the chair and walked to the window, hands behind his back. “Yes,
indeed, Jeannie. I’m the very devil on land.”


I
didn’t mean that.”

He turned around to
face her. “It’s true, dear, too true. I am comfortable at sea. I am
entirely my own master and no one crosses me. I don’t have to deal
with human relationships and there are no Edwards.”


Or
Jeannies,” she whispered.

He started, and the
truth of her words sank in. “No Jeannies,” he agreed. “I’m no
bargain, my dear.” He closed his eyes with some finality.

She folded her hands in
her lap and stayed where she was.

He opened his eyes.
“You’re still here? My, but you’re hard to get rid of, Jeannie
McVinnie,” he said, his voice calmer now, his tone more
familiar.


I
don’t scare easily, sir,” she said, a touch of humor in her own
voice. “Besides all that, someone should not be alone at a time
like this.”

He took her hand again,
but gently this time. “You were very much alone at your worst
moment, or so I remember.”

She nodded. “That was
different, Will,” she said, keeping her tone light. “You forget I
am a Scot. We have reserves that you Englishmen can only dream
about.” She rose. “Let me ring for Wapping. I am sure he can have a
bottle of brandy here in jig time.”

Summers shook his head.
“No, Jeannie. Ring instead for coffee. I need a clear head. If
Brummell fails me—after all, we cannot all expect miracles at his
hand—I must think of something else.”

She returned in a few
minutes with a pot of coffee and poured them each a cup. He sipped
it in silence, and took a cake, which she passed to him. “I haven’t
had anything to eat in quite a while,” he admitted after three more
cakes disappeared from the plate.


Or
slept since goodness knows when,” she added, and grimaced over the
coffee.


True.
I am more used to that, however. While you’re making faces over
that coffee, Jeannie, tell me what to do.”

She could think of
nothing, and was spared from exposing her ignorance by a discreet
tap on the door. The captain looked up in annoyance, but Jeannie
touched his shoulder and went to the door.

It was Wapping. He held
out a letter to her. “From the Admiralty House, I do believe.”

At his words, Captain
Summers was on his feet and across the room. He snatched the letter
from Wapping and hurried to the window, where the afternoon light
was fading fast. He read quickly, and a smile came to his face. He
slapped the letter with his hand, swung Jeannie around, and kissed
her soundly before he set her on her feet and thrust the letter
under her eyes.

She tried to catch her
breath as she scanned the lines; then she looked at the captain,
who had already gathered up his boat cloak and the battered
sextant. “The Duke of Clarence?” she asked.


Can
you believe my fortune? Brother Billy was visiting him when the
letter arrived. Jeannie, I am off!” He threw open the door and
shouted, “Wapping, find Pringle and tell that old bag of bones to
stuff the needfuls in a duffel and stow the rest.”

Jeannie hurried into
the hall with him, grabbing for his arm and having no success.
“Will! Wait a moment!”

He stopped on the
stairs, impatience written on every line of his face. “Hurry with
it, Jeannie. I have a packet boat in Portsmouth to catch.”

She grabbed his arm and
hung on. “You simply have to speak to Edward before you leave. You
can’t just go away without a word. It would be too cruel.”

And have you a thought
for me? she wondered to herself. Am I only here when you are on
land, or in some desperate need, and then far, far away, even when
we are in the same room?

He sighed with
impatience and then embarrassment. “I was pretty hard on the lad,
wasn’t I?”

She nodded. And on me,
too, Captain. Do you even remember that you asked me to think about
marriage to you and to give you an answer? I have my answer now, as
foolish as it seems to me at this moment.

He looked up the
stairs, where Pringle waited. “I suppose you are right,” he said
reluctantly. “I will go to him. Pringle! Pack at once. I’ll give
you ten minutes.”


Aye,
aye, sir,” shouted Pringle, that same joy across his
face.

Captain Summers mounted
the stairs and hurried down the hall to Edward’s room. Jeannie went
back into the parlor and retrieved the broken pieces of the sextant
from under the sofa. She looked out the window and saw Mary and
Clare walking toward the house, returning from the park.

There was a high-perch
phaeton pulling up to the door. Jeannie put her hand to her
forehead. Good God, it would be Lord Tutton, ready for his trip to
the art gallery. She shook her head. No, that was this morning, and
we cried off. A closer look identified the dandy as Sir Reginald
Dewhurst, who had begged for the honor last night of accompanying
Larinda and her Scottish nanny to Hyde Park.

Jeannie leaned against
the door. Was it five of the clock already? Larinda is likely
crying her eyes out in her room, and I have the headache. Was there
ever such a dreadful start to what had held out the promise of
being a glorious London Season? How could I get myself involved in
this huggle-muggle?


Jeannie!”

She raised her
head.


Jeannie, I need you. Smartly now!”

How many sides to this
complex man are there? she thought as she ran into the hall,
ignoring the knock at the door. The captain sounded even worse than
he did before, although Jeannie was not sure how that could be
possible. She started up the stairs and then stopped, her heart in
her throat. Edward! She grabbed up her skirts and hurried faster,
even as the captain met her in the hall, his face a mask of
distress.

She ran to him and
clutched his hand. When he could say nothing but point in the
direction of Edward’s room, she shrieked and ran down the hall past
Lady Smeath, who had come out of her room and was looking about in
surprise.

She flung open the
door. The room was empty. The only sound was her own labored
breathing. The window was wide open, and the wind blowing from the
east again, blew the curtains wide. Jeannie looked down at a scrap
of paper on the carpet and picked up the note that the captain must
have dropped on his way out of the room.

With fingers that
trembled, she smoothed it out and read it.


I
only wanted to shoot the sun with no obstructions and make you
proud of me. I have decided to take Captain MacGregor’s advice,”
she read, and the color drained from her face. “I love you, Captain
Summers. Your nephew, Edward.”

Jeannie sobbed out
loud. Captain Summers was back in the room. Without a word, he took
her in his arms. “What kind of animal am I?” he asked her, his lips
tickling her ear. “Dear God, put me to sea quickly, Jeannie, for I
have done enough damage on land.”

With enormous effort,
she stopped crying and wiped her eyes on the hem of her dress,
ignoring the look of amazement on Lady Smeath’s face as she stared
into Edward’s room. His face absolutely without expression, Captain
Summers handed the note to his sister, who read it and fainted.

He caught her expertly
on the way down and deposited her on Edward’s bed. He turned to
Larinda, who had trailed her aunt into the room and who stood
openmouthed at the scene before her. He handed her the troublesome
note with the warning. “Don’t you dare faint, Larinda. We haven’t
time or space for another one.”

Her lips set tight
together, Larinda read the note and then held out her hands to
Jeannie, who hung on to her.


I
blame myself,” she said quietly, “so don’t drag it all upon
yourself, Uncle Summers, I beg. Oh, Jeannie, I was beastly to him.
You heard me.”

Jeannie nodded, too
miserable to speak.


I
want to know, what did Bartley tell him? I don’t entirely
understand this note,” said the captain.


Oh,
Uncle, Bartley was only teasing, but he as much as suggested that
Edward take the king’s shilling and join the army,” Larinda
explained.


What?” roared the captain in his quarterdeck voice.

Jeannie put her hands
over her ears, and Lady Smeath opened her eyes, looked about, and
closed them again with amazing finality.

Ignoring the pained
expression on his lady love’s face, Captain Summers set his lips in
that familiar tight line. “If that isn’t insult to injury, I don’t
know what is,” he raged. “That my nephew would even think to join
the goddamn army.” He shuddered. “I ask you, Jeannie, is this a
piece of work, or what?”

Jeannie gasped. Her
lips started to twitch and she burst into laughter. Will Summers
stared at her as though she had taken complete leave of her senses,
muttering something about females with more hair than wit, more
bounce than bottom. In a moment Larinda was in whoops, too. She sat
down on the bed on top of her aunt, who moaned and sent Larinda
bounding to her feet in greater merriment than before.


Belay
it, you two,” he snapped, his patience at an end. “Have both of you
sent your wits wandering about the countryside?”

Jeannie could only nod
and grope about in her pocket for a handkerchief, which she dabbed
at her streaming eyes. When she could speak again, she picked up
the crumpled note. “Dear me,” she said, “Will, you have no
idea ….”

There was nothing in
his face that even hinted that he understood, so she sobered up,
even though she did not dare look in Larinda’s direction. “It was
merely the way you said it. Do hush, Larinda.”


I
thought Edward was an intelligent lad,” he said, his voice filled
with wonder, “but the
army
? Good God.”

He spent another moment
in thought. “I suppose that silly young chub would want to get as
far away as possible. Larinda, do you suppose he would follow
Bartley MacGregor to Portsmouth?”

She considered his
question and nodded. “Yes. If he were in the middle of Spain, that
would get him far away from you.”


Larinda,” he roared again.


Hush,
Uncle,” she said quite calmly. “It can’t be good for you to have
your face turn so red. Jeannie, tell him to calm
himself.”

Jeannie only smiled.
“He doesn’t listen to me either, my dear.”


If
you were my crew ….” he began wrathfully.


I am
your crew,” Jeannie reminded him.


Oh,
so you are,” he said, “No, you are not! Oh, by God, I am getting
more confused by the minute.” He clasped his hands behind his back
and paced back and forth until he had some measure of control, and
then grabbed up his cloak again.


Jeannie, get your toothbrush and bundle up. We’re off to
Portsmouth on the mail coach. It’s the quickest way I know, and
there’s no other place he could have gone if he’s planning to leave
the country with the army. God help us.”


I’m
coming, too,” Larinda said.


Indeed you are not,” Summers snapped, totally out of patience.
“Someone has to cosset Agatha and you’re elected.”


Wrong, indeed, Uncle. I have done that since Mama died and
Aunt Agatha came to live with us,” Larinda replied. Again Jeannie
noticed that remarkable Summers resemblance in the way her lips
came together and her eyes flashed. “I said some terrible things to
Edward. He may never forgive me for them, and I don’t blame him,
but I shall try to make amends. If I am not allowed to come with
you, I shall simply travel unescorted on the next mail
coach.”

BOOK: Mrs. McVinnie's London Season
9.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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