The Captain's Lady (12 page)

Only seconds after Bennington settled in, and before he could begin his comments, little Georgie started to grasp Elizabeth’s hair. As he pulled, Jamie coughed and let his foot slip from the pedestal so that his hard leather heel thumped loudly on the hearth’s stone floor. All attention swung to him, with several gasps coming from the ladies. But Jamie kept his focus on Georgie, narrowing his eyes for the briefest instant. The boy snatched back his hand, sucked in his lower lip and stared down.

“Your pardon, my lord.” Jamie gave the earl his best boyish grin. “Clumsy me.”

The earl’s eyebrows shot upward. “Do not give it a thought, my boy.” As if the sun had emerged from behind a cloud, the man’s expression brightened, and he gazed around the room. “Ah, ’tis good to be home with all of you.”

“Welcome home, sir,” Bampton said on the wind of a long-held breath.

“Father, dear.” Marianne hurried over to kiss his forehead, and the children clambered after her before their parents could stop them.

The earl lifted Elizabeth up on his lap, tousled Georgie’s hair and pulled Miss Moberly into a one-armed embrace. “And what mischief have you three been up to?”

The children spoke all at once, regaling their grandfather with their stories while the adults looked on. Bampton sent Jamie a grateful nod. Lady Bampton stared at him up and down through her quizzing glass, her expression unreadable.

“All right, now, let us see how tall you are.” Bennington put Elizabeth off of his lap and stood, then measured the two younger ones against his waistcoat buttons. When it came to Miss Moberly, he shook his head. “Whom have we here? Where has my little Katherine gone? Who is this elegant young lady?” She giggled, still a child.

More clamoring ensued, with the earl laughing out loud more than once. Everyone in the room appeared surprised, relieved, even relaxed. Jamie noticed Moberly’s hopeful expression, and Miss Kendall’s serene smile. Marianne sent Jamie a wistful look, stirring his emotions again. Were they all thinking the same as he? In this pleasant, generous mood, perhaps the earl would grant each and every one of them their hearts’ desires, if they would but ask him.

Jamie reined in his thoughts and turned from Marianne’s sweet gaze to stare up at the painting above the hearth. While he could not ask for his own wish to be granted, he could pray that Robert Moberly would have the courage to ask for his.

M
arianne gazed across the room at Jamie, her heart overflowing with love. This dear man had brought nothing but good to her family, and she longed to tell Papa how much she loved her American sea captain. How marvelous that a simple pretense for awkwardness could alter the entire atmosphere and everyone’s frame of mind. Neither she nor her brothers would ever have tried such a trick to change the mood of the room, or to rescue their nephew from scolding and disfavor. Perhaps that was their trouble. They feared Papa needlessly.

She put herself in Papa’s place, coming home to a family that seemed to dread his company, just like some of his opponents in Parliament. With all of them cowering before him, no wonder he had always been critical of his sons. Of course, she and Mama never had anything to fear, but they both always sympathized with the misery of their loved ones.

Now, in this moment of family amiability, she could envision herself asking Papa’s favor for Jamie to court her. She looked again at her beloved and saw the longing in his
eyes, which he quickly shielded from her by staring up at the painting over the mantelpiece. Tears scalded away her confidence, and prudence gripped her once more. And yet perhaps, just perhaps, if Robert’s interview with Papa turned out well, she might dare to ask for her own heart’s longing.

“There now.” The earl slumped back in his chair and swiftly bucked away from that silly wild boar designed to force good posture. She winced for him, but his stoic facade gave no hint of pain. “You have wearied this old man.” He patted Georgie’s head and gave the girls another hug. “Run along now. Find your nurse. The adults must have some peace and quiet once in a while.” His jolly tone belied his words.

The nurse must have been hovering outside the door, for she hurried into the drawing room and whisked the children away.

Immediately, Marianne sensed caution falling over the room like a curtain. But Papa merely asked after everyone’s health, going from one to the next around the circle. He expressed regret over missing William and Lady Bampton in London during most of the season, but recalled their pleasant time at Christmas last. He brought news of Jamie’s ship, which had been careened, scraped and recaulked, and would soon sport a new mast of sturdy live oak, a fact that startled Marianne, for it meant her beloved must soon sail away. Jamie thanked Papa, but she thought she detected a hint of hesitation in his eyes. Was he thinking her thoughts? Once his ship was loaded with the gathered cargo from the warehouses, nothing remained to keep him here.

Papa told Marianne that Tobias Pincer missed seeing her in town. She thanked Papa, but wanted to gag at the thought of Robert’s former friend and all of his treachery.

Next, with the gentleness of a loving parent, Papa
promised to enlist Grace’s commentary on Reverend Bentley’s upcoming sermons, for the minister would henceforth have the living at Bennington Park now that the old vicar had retired, something they had all expected and approved of. At last, he stood and kissed Mama’s hand.

“And the happiest news, my dear, is that my son Thomas will soon arrive in Portsmouth, perhaps even in time for your summer garden party.”

“Oh, Bennington, how delightful.” Mama reached up to kiss his cheek. “Do you suppose he has been promoted?”

Father’s countenance clouded. “I shall be greatly displeased if he has not been. With all our trouble with France and that nonsense going on in the American colonies, His Majesty’s navy will need good commanders. Of all my sons, only Thomas possesses the courage of a military man.” He pointed at the painting above the mantel, one Marianne had always loved, which showed Papa mounted on horseback in battle beside the late King George II. “When I served with His Majesty at Dettingen back in ’43, we knew what a man was. We knew how to fight.” He beat the air with his fist. “Yes, Thomas has what it takes to show those brigands who their master is.”

Marianne could see William and Robert wilt, and she sent up a heartfelt prayer that Robert would not let these comments defeat him.

“Well, now,” Papa said, “you are all dismissed except Robert.” He strode over to Jamie and shook his hand. “Good to have you here, lad. Have my sons kept you entertained?”

A soft gasp escaped Lady Bampton, and Marianne puckered away a smile. Her sister-in-law had never spoken a civil word to Jamie, yet he saved Georgie—and all of them—from Papa’s sour mood. No doubt the viscountess felt some degree of indignation over Papa’s favor toward Jamie.
Well, the disagreeable woman would simply have to endure it.

Yet another thought struck Marianne. One day William would ascend to the title and Lady Bampton would become Lady Bennington. How would she treat Mama, who would become the dowager countess? Marianne reminded herself that it would not do to make her an enemy. But if Marianne followed Jamie to East Florida, she would have no say in how anyone treated her mother back home in England.

As the company disbursed, Jamie escorted Miss Kendall from the drawing room, and they joined Marianne beside the wide staircase in the entry hall. Miss Kendall bowed her head, and Marianne chewed her thumbnail, a habit she had taken up of late. Jamie longed to grasp her hands to reassure her, but his own feelings were loose from their moorings.

He’d had good friends all his life, but his friendship with Robert Moberly had been perhaps the most rewarding, a fact for which he could take little credit. God truly had touched Moberly, changing him from a drunken prodigal to a man who desired to serve Him. Jamie had no doubt that with further studies and Reverend Bentley’s mentoring, he would make an excellent minister of the Gospel. But everything hinged on Bennington’s approval, and Jamie’s nerves skittered about his stomach in anticipation of the outcome of this interview.

The earl’s deep, hearty laughter rang from behind the drawing room’s closed door. A good sign? Jamie and the ladies traded looks, mirroring each other with eyebrows raised in expectation. The drawing room was silent for several moments. Now the door opened and slammed against the entry wall. Moberly stalked out, his eyes wide and wild, and swiped the back of his hand across his lips, a gesture Jamie had not seen since the man quit drinking.

He stopped to stare at them briefly, yet no recognition lit his eyes. Then he strode down the hallway, cutting through the house toward the back. Marianne huffed out a cross breath, while Miss Kendall’s sigh held a note of heartbreak. Anger roared up inside of Jamie, and he turned toward the drawing room, his jaw and fists clenched. He would tell that fool of a father what a mistake he’d just made.

“Jamie.”

“Captain Templeton.”

Marianne and Miss Kendall grasped his arms.

“You must not.” Marianne’s eyes swam with tears. “I will speak to Papa.”

Jamie chewed his lip. “You’re right. I’d only make matters worse.”

At the slam of a door, Miss Kendall’s gaze turned in the direction Moberly had taken. She turned to Jamie. “Please, will you…?” Her voice sounding clogged with emotion, but the plea in her eyes was clear.

He squeezed her forearm. “I’ll look after him.” With a nod to Marianne, he hurried down the hallway. He’d managed to figure out the maze of halls, rooms and staircases comprising the manor house. Guessing that Moberly had headed for the stable, he descended a small flight of stairs and exited through a back door. Across the wide backyard, where geese and chickens pecked the ground for bugs and a servant sat at a grinding wheel sharpening knives, Moberly entered the low-roofed stable. Jamie quickly closed the distance between them, entering the darkened building just as his friend slung a saddle onto Gallant’s back.

“Mr. Moberly, sir.” A slender, mop-haired young groom reached out to help him. “I’d be honored to saddle ’im for you.”

“I can do it myself.” Robert’s bitter tone cut the air, and
he waved the boy off with a sharp gesture that did not make contact, but nevertheless sent him reeling backward. “I
am
capable of a few things.”

“Very well, sir.” The groom watched with widened eyes.

Jamie clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Would you saddle Puck for me, lad?”

The groom gave him a quivering smile. “Aye, sir, be glad to.”

“I do not require a nursemaid, Templeton.” Moberly jerked the girth around Gallant’s belly, and the massive horse snorted and danced on his heavy back hooves. “Hold still.” His words came out through gritted teeth, but at least he’d not cursed, as had been his former habit.

“Of course you don’t.” Jamie stepped forward and rubbed Gallant’s forehead, something Moberly had taught him to settle a horse down. “But I, too, would like an outing this fine afternoon.” In truth, sullen gray clouds had begun to roll over the sky as if following the sun as it wended its way westward—a promise of rain if Jamie had ever seen one. His new jacket and shoes, neither made for rain or riding, might be ruined. But it was a small price to pay for his friend’s well-being.

Moberly finished with the saddle. “You will not want to go where I’m going.” Again he brushed the back of his hand across his lips. Jamie had seen many a drunkard do the same thing in his desperation for a drink.

He followed as Moberly led Gallant out of the stable, then watched him leap into the saddle, dig in his heels and gallop away. The groom seemed to take a long time to bring Puck, and Jamie paced about the yard, his nerves tightening as the minutes passed. The boy still looked stricken as he handed over the reins. “Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you, my lad.” Jamie lifted his foot to place it in
the left stirrup, but Puck pranced around in a circle. He had the urge to swat the mischievous animal’s flanks, but realized that would only make matters worse.

“Here, sir. Let me ’elp.” The groom grabbed the bridle and secured it to a post, then gave Jamie a leg up into the saddle.

“Thank you, lad.” His pride was a bit bruised by his needing help to mount this rascal. But pride was unimportant now, for Jamie had a far more important concern. He dug his heels into Puck’s flanks and reined him toward the road to Portsmouth, where the dust from Gallant’s hooves still stirred in the air.

“We must not stay here.” Marianne could hear the sound of Papa’s footsteps crossing the drawing room floor. She grasped Grace’s hand, and the two of them scurried up the wide front staircase like frightened mice. Once they reached Marianne’s bedchamber, they fell into each other’s arms and wept. Marianne had never seen Grace so discomposed, but her own anguish was so severe she had no words to comfort her friend.

“My lady.” Emma appeared from her little room wringing her hands. “Whatever is the matter? How can I help you?” She brought forth two fresh linen handkerchiefs and fetched glasses of water from the crystal pitcher on a side table.

“Thank…you…Em…ma.” Struggling for control, Marianne sniffed and dabbed at her tears. In love herself, surely Emma had long ago noticed the other romances blooming in the shadows of the household. While Marianne had not yet confided her plans to her little lady’s maid, she had not denied the girl’s veiled remarks regarding her affections for a certain American nor her open remarks about Grace and Robert.

Grace breathed out a long shuddering sigh. “Forgive me,” she whispered.

Marianne started to say there was nothing to forgive, but realized her friend was praying. Still, she could not think God would mind these heartfelt tears on Robert’s behalf. Infused with a sudden fervor, she grasped Grace’s and Emma’s hands and led them to the chairs in front of her hearth. “We will pray together. Has the Lord not said that wherever two or three are gathered in His name, He will be with us?”

Grace gave her a trembling smile, and Emma’s eyes grew round, as if she was startled by this unsettling elevation from lady’s maid to lady’s confidante.

“It is all right,” Marianne said. “We are all equal before our Heavenly Father.”

“Yes, my lady.” Emma’s eyes sparkled, and her smile held a bit of mischief. Marianne could not guess why.

With her head bowed, Marianne prayed first for Robert’s and Jamie’s safety, then for Papa to have a change of heart regarding Robert’s future. The others lifted the same petitions in their own words. Emma added her request that, while the Lord was in the business of speaking to Lord Bennington regarding matters of the heart, He might also grant Aaron Quince favor in the earl’s eyes. Then she gasped. Marianne and Grace raised their heads to look at her.

“I did not mean to be impertinent, my lady.” Emma’s round cheeks were pinched with worry.

Marianne shook her head. “Be at ease, Emma. I did not think you were at all impertinent.”

However, the answering gleam in her maid’s eyes threw up a caution in Marianne’s mind. Mama had always taught her that God loved every person the same, whether rich or
poor, mistress or servant, but each had her place in His plan. Servants who were granted too much liberty might one day misuse it, even a grateful orphan like Emma. Marianne must walk a delicate path while keeping Emma in her proper place, for one day soon her own happiness, her own future, would depend on Emma’s good feelings for her.