The Wedding Affair (Rebel Hearts series Book 1) (6 page)

“I cannot recall.” She smiled, but her eyes flashed with irritation at the question.

“Yes, I think we have met before. In Portsmouth, six years ago it must have been now,” he answered for Sally. Her eyes narrowed to slits and he smiled widely, enjoying her discomfort. “I was a lieutenant aboard the admiral’s ship in those days.”

Young and foolish.

Sally cleared her throat. “Laurence, my younger brother, serves aboard the captain’s ship now.”

Oh, yes she remembered him.
She just did not want to be reminded of the past or their engagement. Just like everyone else in her family. “Indeed, I do command him. He is a fine officer and a good man.”

Sally wore a smile that lacked warmth despite her next words. “Welcome to Newberry Park.”

“Thank you. It is a dream come true to be here.”

That startled her enough that she licked her lips, a sure sign of nervousness. “I hope you enjoy your brief respite and can return to your ship soon to continue the war against the French.”

Felix wanted her nervous. He wanted to get her alone too and rail at her, but not when there were witnesses, and most of them her relations.

When she linked arms with Lady Duckworth and smiled dismissively, he saw it as a sign he had gotten under her skin. She wanted him to go away, and he would eventually because his yearning for her had been hopeless then and still was. But first he would set the record straight about his intentions six years ago. “As soon as the admiral gives me leave I will go,” he assured her. “I keep my promises.”

She glanced away at his words and Felix took the time to drink in her profile, her elegance. Something he had known deep in his heart from the beginning that he had not deserved. A sudden smile lit up her face, and he turned to see what had pleased her.

Lord Ellicott.

He had noticed the man in London. In the few weeks he’d managed to come ashore they had attended some of the same society events. A popular fellow, he had a wide circle of friends who did very little with their time and wasted their funds on all sorts of gambling. Ellicott had danced with Sally often and an acquaintance—a woman who had not known their tangled history—had remarked that the pair was made for each other. Felix had trouble believing the overdressed popinjay sauntering toward them could possibly be accepted by a family of rough-and-tumble naval men.

When introduced, Ellicott exclaimed rudely, “Good God, I had heard you were dead.”

“Now where might that rumor have started?” He glanced at Sally for an answer, and she blushed. “Not yet, my lord, but the French are a determined lot, so who knows when my time on Earth will end.”

Sally laughed, a brittle false laugh he did not recognize or like. He looked her over again, noticing her elegance was as restrained as her laughter. She was entirely proper, and it hurt his eyes to see her gloriously curly hair had been tamed.

She only had eyes for Ellicott though as he stopped at her side. As if to prove her point that she had forgotten him, she claimed Ellicott’s arm too and drew him and Lady Duckworth away as if he were unworthy of standing in her presence.

Chastened by her indifference to a time that was still important to him, he turned his attention back to his commander. “Your message said it was urgent.”

“Later Hastings,” Templeton insisted, waving aside the matter as the duke had done earlier that day. His eyes narrowed on his daughter. “Tomorrow is soon enough for what we have to talk about. Perhaps the day after.”

The duke cleared his throat and Templeton hurried off. “Now then, Captain, who do you not know?”

Chapter Six

R
utherford reacquainted Felix with those closest as if the genial host of a long-lost friend, but then a gong sounded and dinner was announced.

Lady Templeton drew close, her expression openly curious and transparently delighted to see him. “You are with me tonight, Captain.”

The duke raised a brow. “I trust you recall Lady Templeton, my daughter by marriage.”

“How could I forget?” He bowed deeply to Sally’s mother, a woman he had genuinely liked. Lady Templeton was nothing like her husband. She was warm and jolly and very quick with a laugh at no one’s expense. “A pleasure to see you again, my lady. You are as radiant as ever.”

“I see you have become even more handsome and incorrigible than ever before.” She smiled fondly, and he caught a glimpse of that former friendship in her expression. As she looked beyond him to the far side of the room where Sally and her friends had gathered, that spark dimmed. But with a toss of her head, she shook off whatever bothered her. “It is good to have you back onshore.”

“Thank you.” He held out his arm to the countess and escorted her in to dinner, saw her seated, and took his place at her side. Across the table was a woman who very much resembled Sally but must have been years younger. After a moment she smiled, and he realized it could only be Louisa Ford, his lieutenant’s twin sister, given the feeling of familiarity he experienced when she smiled. They had not been introduced as yet.

The countess touched his arm lightly, claiming his attention. “Have you seen my boys?”

He grinned, imagining the reaction of the three six-foot-and-more-tall giants on hearing themselves described as mere boys at the ages of thirty, three and twenty, and twenty respectively. “I would hardly call them boys, but my ship passed within shouting distance of
Reckless Hope
not two weeks ago. Maitland saluted and appeared in high spirits as we traded assignments. The ship looked to be in excellent condition.”

The countess heaved a relieved sigh. “And my poor Freddie?”

Freddie was the second son, the spare to the earldom of Templeton. “He is somewhat further afield, the
Newberry
being assigned to the southern oceans at present. I have not met with him or his ship in recent years.”

The countess nibbled her bottom lip and stared at her plate, not even looking up when a servant moved to place a napkin in her lap. She said not a word of thanks as the man moved on to attend to him in a similar fashion. The countess was miles away, no doubt worrying unnecessarily about her grown children as all mothers were prone to do.

“Laurence was well when I saw him Thursday last.”

“I am glad to know my baby is under your protection,” she said. “He is too gentle to be at war, but he could not be stopped.”

That so-called baby had dispatched dozens of French during his career, but Felix did not correct the countess at the dinner table. His tongue burned to break the silence though. “Newberry Park exceeds young Laurence’s description by a fair margin, my lady.”

“Thank you.” She sighed deeply and took a sip of her wine.

Felix noticed her animation at seeing him had left with the talk of her sons. Sally had hinted her mother was prone to fits of melancholy once, but he had thought it an idle exaggeration of a daughter frustrated by the confines of her life. However, judging by the countess’s current expression, he could easily believe Lady Templeton a troubled soul.

Uncertain of what to do about it, or if he should try to cheer her up, he glanced around at the other guests as the first course was served. What could he say to lift Lady Templeton out of her mopes?

The duke stared, a frown on his face as he watched his daughter-in-law fiddle with her wineglass. Templeton was engaged in conversation with Lady Ellicott and never noticed his wife’s low mood.

Sally was seated beside Ellicott, her suitor, and spoke only with him. Lady Duckworth was across the table and stared pointedly, clearly a hostile presence toward him. He noticed how few young men sat down to dinner that night. For a family of this size, the lack of men was telling of their profession. He turned his attention back to Sally’s mother. “It must be a difficult task to manage an estate of this size with the younger men away at war.”

The countess lifted her chin proudly. “We manage without them. My girls have shouldered the responsibilities well, and Newberry thrives.”

“So the Earl of Rothwell mentioned with the greatest respect the last time I spoke with him.” He smiled at the countess’s praise for her daughters’ achievements and the ever-ready spark of Ford pride she displayed. “I doubt I would do half as well when I come ashore. I know so little of the land and homes that it would be safer for all concerned if I kept only an apartment in Town,” he said, laughing. “And hardly any staff.”

That caught her interest immediately. “You have been at sea so long.”

“Needs must, my lady.” He nodded. “I followed my father to sea when I was but thirteen years old if you recall.”

“I do remember your mentioning that.” The countess sighed, pressing her hand to her breast. “You must have broken your poor mother’s heart.”

He bowed his head. “I did, to my shame, and I can never make it up to her. She passed away while I was at sea a year after I earned the rank of captain.”

“Oh, I had not heard.” The countess gave his hand a motherly squeeze. “My eldest could not wait for glory and left me at only eleven to join the navy, but I had Freddie and Laurence still at home then and that comforted me.”

He glanced across the table at the unknown young woman. He judged her about twenty years, which would definitely make her the right age to be Laurence’s twin. “And you have your daughters too, do not forget them.”

Her face lit up as he had hoped, and she smiled fondly at the young woman across the table, claiming her as her own child. “They are beauties, are they not? Sally and Louisa are my comfort and my joy. I suppose you have a wife of your own now. A sweetheart?”

He shook his head. “Who would have me?”

“I might be old, but I am not blind.” She glanced around the table, her eyes assessing those present. “You have aged remarkably well for a man already possessed with good looks in your earlier days. A great many women would see much in you that they would want if you were to offer encouragement.”

He laughed at that. “With only a brother for my connections and a passing distinction as a captain. Your praise is quite far off the mark indeed.”

“Scoff all you like, but I like what I see and that is all that matters.” She grinned and with a toss of her head looked him over. “We never had much of a chance to speak candidly before, and I do not mean to pry, but you mentioned a brother? You must miss each other terribly as my children do.”

“I have a brother.” A useless, worthless gambler. He had never been close to his family, save for loving his mother. Some of his favorite moments with the Fords had been time spent with the countess although that time had been brief. “But we have been estranged since I joined the navy.”

The countess frowned at that. “Perhaps when the war is over, you will have a chance to begin again. I could not be without my family about me.”

He smiled but doubted he would ever want to see his brother very much. By all accounts, Neville had bled his mother dry of funds while he and his father had been away at sea earning a living to support them. He could never forgive Neville for gambling away everything he had scraped together in the first years of his service, or for leaving their mother at the mercy of charity as she faded away from loneliness and despair. If he ever saw his brother again, he would probably kick him all the way to the next county or do worse if no one stopped him.

However, there was no point in burdening the countess with his sad history when he wanted to lift her spirits. “Perhaps we will.”

They talked of London’s amusements and of inconsequential matters until she said, “You mentioned property earlier, sir. Do you own very much in London?”

“None at all.” He sighed as she struck upon another dream that would go unfulfilled. “I have been at sea too long to have a home and have never had the opportunity to settle in one place for long.”

“I highly recommend Essex. There is no better place.” Her gaze drifted down the table and a frown pulled at her brow. “All the best families make their home here.”

He followed the direction of her gaze, noticing she watched Sally and Ellicott as they chatted. There was an undeniable intimacy between them. He was riveted when Ellicott stroked his finger along the back of Sally’s gloved hand where it rested on the edge of the table.

Felix did not like the brazen flirtation in front of her family, and he forced his attention back to his dining companion. “I am unfamiliar with the Ellicott holdings. Are they local landowners?”

“No, unfortunately. When they marry, he will take my daughter away to Shropshire and I will likely not see her more than once a year.” The countess whispered the last very, very quietly, for his ears alone he suspected.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach, and he took a moment to quiet his disappointment. “They are to be married?”

“I should not have said anything, especially not to you before the announcement is made. It is a private agreement and will be announced on my husband’s return from London in a week’s time. Before the month is out, I expect her gone from me too.”

He could understand her low mood a little more than perhaps he should. He had felt something similar when he had been dragged away from Sally six years ago, and still did.

At times he had thought their estrangement a blessing for her though. Those moments when he had been required to pen letters home to the family and spouses of fallen officers had brought into clarity how it would have been for Sally to receive such a letter at his eventual demise.