The Captain's Challenge (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 3)

by Elaine Manders

  There might not be many good men available as suitors as Lizzie had said, but Gillian wasn’t the type to fall at the feet of the first handsome man who came along.

  Her restless slumber left her cantankerous. Circumstances had changed drastically, leaving her shouldering a great responsibility, too heavy for her. The solution yawned before her like some strange, dark chasm she feared to enter. In a twisted way, she felt responsible for Papa’s problems. If only she’d stayed in England.

  And where was Will? So far, Alex hadn’t found anything useful, leaving her asking if she should find a private detective—or rather, asking Aunt Mandy to do so, since Gillian had no money of her own.

  She sat up on the side of the bed, finding she had to stand to untangle her nightgown bunched around her middle. Fragments of a dream still clung to her memory. It was one of those dreams that made no sense. Her mother standing before her, admonishing her to destroy the carpetbaggers. Her father right behind with hands outstretched, silently mouthing, “You are your brother’s keeper.”

  A soft knock sent those disturbing images from her mind in a puff of smoke. “Come in.”

  Purity slipped into the room, balancing a breakfast tray in one hand. “I hope I didn’t wake you, but Amanda said the captain would be around at ten, and you have to eat.”

  Gillian scooted under the covers and propped against the pillows. It didn’t seem right that Purity should be serving her, but she appreciated the girl’s thoughtfulness.

  The ticking clock urged her not to dawdle over her breakfast of bacon, eggs and hot cakes. Before she’d finished half the heavily laden tray, she couldn’t stuff in another bite.

  While she ate, Purity had been going through the wardrobe. She held out a green riding habit. “This is fetching, and the matching hat atop your lovely hair will captivate any man, especially the captain.”

  Purity was certainly fetching in a pretty riding habit of cornflower blue. Gillian finished her coffee. “Why the captain, especially?” Did everyone in the house think she was after Alex? Was she that obvious?

  “He’s smitten with you. Captain Blaine has been a constant visitor here before you arrived and since. I’ve noticed he turns every conversation around to something about you.” She laughed. “He doesn’t know he does it, but I’ve noticed, and so has Amanda.”

  Gillian refused to be baited into revealing her feelings. She set her tray aside and sprang from the bed to trek to the wash stand. After pouring water into the porcelain basin, she dampened a cloth to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “You’re going on our ride?” Of course she was. Why else would she be dressed in a riding habit?

  “Amanda feels it wouldn’t be seemly for you to ride with the captain alone.”

  “Aunt Mandy didn’t used to care for what was seemly.”

  Purity’s soft chuckle sounded from behind. “She does cut the corners of convention whenever possible, but even she wouldn’t let her niece go about unchaperoned.”

  Gillian watched Purity’s reflection in the mirror. “What about you? Do you go out unchaperoned? Do you ride much?”

  The smile disappeared from Purity’s face, leaving a pained expression. “I don’t go out at all. When I first came here, I fell from a horse, breaking my arm, so please forgive me if I am nervous around the horses.”

  Fear of riding wasn’t the only thing keeping Purity housebound. Gillian ought to become better acquainted with the girl before prying, but they couldn’t become true friends without honesty.

  “Aunt Mandy told me how you came to live with her. You shouldn’t have to suffer because of the circumstances of your birth. Since you pass as white, why not take all the privileges it offers?”

  Purity hugged herself and swallowed, clearly apprehensive. “The problem with passing as white is…it’s like living a lie. Knowing that if the truth is discovered, it will change people’s opinion. How did you react to learning about...my mother?”

  “I won’t lie. It came as a shock, and I haven’t had time to examine my feelings, but I like the idea of having you as my companion. I don’t feel so…alone.”

  Purity took a couple of steps toward Gillian, then stopped, tears welling in her eyes.

  Gillian closed the distance and pulled the weeping girl into a tight embrace. When they parted, she lifted the hem of her nightgown to dry Purity’s eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve prayed so hard for an answer,” Purity said.

  “An answer to what?”

  “An answer to where I belong. I’ve considered trying to locate my mother’s people, but you know how people are. I doubt I’d fit in with them either.”

  What a sad situation. Gillian wished there was more time to comfort the girl, but time had slipped away. It was now fifteen minutes until ten. She touched Purity’s cheek. “I, too, will pray, and whatever happens, I want you to consider me a friend.” She dropped her hand. “Could you fetch Aunt Mandy’s maid to do up my hair while I dress. I can do all but the buttons.”

  “I can help you dress and do your hair. I was a maid at Lynwood—you know, the poor relation, working for the family? And that’s what I must remain in public.”

  Yes, that’s the way it must be in public, but Gillian intended to have a lot more private chats with Purity.

  Chapter 13

  Alex arrived at Amanda Brown’s house precisely at ten o’clock. One thing the army had taught him was punctuality. Life had taught him women were never on time.

  The lady of the house met him in the foyer before her butler had a chance to announce his arrival. “Good morning, captain. I fear the young ladies will take a few more minutes.”

  Ladies? “Has Gillian invited a friend to join us?”

  “Only Purity. I felt it best for Gillian to have a companion. Besides, Purity needs to get out of house. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He did mind, but he supposed it was best for appearance sake. Southerners were stricter in the rules of propriety than back home, and that was saying a lot. Though Amanda’s choice of the shy, young girl for her niece’s chaperon seemed strange. “I’d be delighted to have Purity accompany us.”

  Amanda smiled. “Would you bring their mounts around to the front while I see if I can hurry the girls up a bit? The horses are those two matching roan mares with the white stockings. They are saddled and ready to go.”

  “Of course.” He turned to leave.

  “Since you’re off duty this weekend would you join us for Sunday services?”

  “I might not be off duty Sunday after all, but if I am, I’ll surely accompany you ladies to church.”

  He left Amanda and made his way to the stables. Maybe he should have explained the reason for rescheduling his days off, but truth be known, he wanted the pleasure of telling Gillian himself. He’d gotten a real lead to a man who was one of the prisoners of war captured by his regiment—one of the three he’d arranged to escape and be shot. He wouldn’t tell her anything about his involvement. She must not know he might have caused her brother’s death.

  It might be that the young Confederate killed in the escape wasn’t her brother at all, but Alex would find that out from his source.

  He found the horses complete with side saddles, waiting as Amanda had told him. Leading them by their reins, he brought them around the front drive just as Gillian and Purity descended the marble steps.

  Gillian took the reins to one of the mares, and a smile tipped her full, rosy lips. He wasn’t surprised when she sat her mount without assistance. She’d confided to him that she’d frequently ridden in London’s Rotten Row—whatever that was—and had kept up her expertise during the short time she’d spent in Macon by riding with her father every morning.

  He knew she didn’t ride with her father every morning because the man had been under constant surveillance, and Alex received the reports. But Gillian didn’t mind exaggerating a point if she wanted to, and for some reason, she tried to build up her father’s image in his eyes. Or hers.

  Purit
y’s unease called to him, and he helped the pretty, curly-haired, young woman get her booted foot in the stirrup. She gripped the pommel like it was a lifeline, a tight smile on her lips. She might be only a poor relation now, but she really was a lovely young woman. In a couple of years, she’d have a line of suitors vying for her attention.

  He adjusted the horse’s tack and noticed the fear in Purity’s eyes. “We’ll go slow, and both these horses are known to be gentle.”

  Gillian pulled up beside them. “Purity has been thrown before.”

  Purity relaxed ever so slightly. “I want to learn to ride well, and Amanda wants me to get out more.”

  “And she’s right.” Gillian looked from under her lashes to Alex. “I just now noticed you’re out of uniform, captain. I prefer you dressed as a gentleman.”

  He automatically tugged at the frogged vest over his pristine white shirt. He’d taken care to dress as a Southern gentleman this morning, tucking his tan riding britches into glistening black boots, and setting the top hat at just the right angle.

  “Don’t you agree, Purity? Doesn’t Alex look better in civilian dress?”

  Purity bit her lower lip without even looking his way. “Actually, I like to see men dressed in uniform, whether blue or gray.”

  Gillian’s blue graze never left Alex’s face. “Oh, don’t say that too loud. You’re in Atlanta, not Macon.” She grinned. “I suppose I shouldn’t care that much about your uniform. After all, you didn’t personally kill my brothers.”

  Her mention of killing her brothers knocked down the witty rejoinder he was ready to deliver.

  She saved him from the awkward moment. “Why do you not wear a beard, captain?”

  “I find it a nuisance to keep and altogether too hot for this climate.”

  “My father wears a beard, and I think it enhances a man’s looks.”

  She was such a little flirt, he couldn’t resist. “So, you think I should enhance my looks?”

  A blush rose in her cheeks as she grinned. “Let’s go, Alex the Great.” She turned and set her horse to a gallop.

  He urged Purity to proceed him, and as soon as the girl had almost reached Gillian’s side, he caught up with the saucy redhead. “Do you always compare other men to your father?”

  She arched one tawny brow. “Perhaps I do. My father is a great man—honored and distinguished. I’m not the only one who feels that way. His integrity is well known throughout the South.”

  “A man of integrity is admired by Northerners too,” he said.

  She ignored his remark. “I’ve never been as close to Papa as I’d have liked—we’ve been separated for a long time—but when I was a little girl, I thought of Papa as a king, and I was his princess.” She slowed her horse. “Oh, I loved Mama, but I adored Papa.”

  “Yet in the end, you defied him.” In spite of Gillian’s praise of her father, she’d ignored his orders to remain in England.

  “Oh, wait.” Purity pulled in the reins sharply like someone who was already used to her horse. “I see Mrs. Gladney’s dressmaker’s shop is open. Amanda asked me to deliver a message if I should find it open. Mrs. Gladney doesn’t always open on Saturday.”

  “That’s fine, Purity,” Gillian said. “Go ahead and we’ll wait for you under this oak tree.”

  Alex side-stepped his stallion to give Purity space to get by, then followed Gillian, urging his horse face-to-face with hers. A mischievous impish grin made him wonder if she was preparing to argue or flirt with him. Either was fine with him. “How did I defy my father?”

  “Forgive me for being personal,” he said. “Your aunt has taken me into the family’s confidence, so to speak. Since I’ve known her, she’s talked endlessly about you.”

  Gillian shrugged as if that didn’t bother her in the least. Her deep green, curled-feather hat sat at a jaunty angle on golden red curls, making her look more adorable than usual. “Aunt Mandy is a dear, but she’s not very discrete. You must forgive her for boring you.”

  “There’s nothing boring about your story. Amanda said your father approved that Englishman you jilted. That’s what I meant by defying him.”

  Her pretty lips drew into a pout. “When the Atlantic separates you and your father, it’s hard to have an understanding. After I explained the circumstances, Papa understood.”

  “Then why did he want you to stay in England?” He knew it was something Gillian must have pondered. Even he couldn’t miss the bazaar behavior of a man who’d lost all his sons, not wanting his only remaining child to come home.

  A glint of water showed in her eyes, and she swallowed. So she had pondered that question—and been hurt by it. He got a glimpse of the sad little girl she’d once been.

  Her smile looked forced. “I think it’s mostly Julia’s influence. Maybe she didn’t want to share Papa with a grown daughter.”

  “But you shouldn’t have to compete for his father’s affection.” A squirrel’s chirp drew Alex’s attention into the tree as he came to a decision to confide in Gillian. He knew he shouldn’t. The information he was about to impart was within the perimeters of the investigation, but he couldn’t let Gillian think her father didn’t care for her.

  It was something Gilbert Carey should have shared with his daughter as soon as she arrived, so it wasn’t as if she shouldn’t know. “I think your father didn’t want you to come home because you’d be in danger here.”

  He felt her jerk in a start, and his eyes met her wide blue ones. “What danger?”

  “I wish Mr. Carey would tell you everything. I wish he’d confide in me. It would make things much easier.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “Major Turley received a warning that your father would never help us discover the gang that’s terrorizing those they call carpetbaggers because if he did, his daughter would be threatened.”

  Her eyes searched his face a long moment. “Papa said nothing about that, but Aunt Mandy mentioned something about blackmail.”

  “Amanda knows some of it, but your father dismissed the whole thing when I spoke to him, and he’s the only one I’ve discussed the threat with. The major and I agree Mr. Carey believed you to be in danger in Macon, and that’s why he wanted you to go to your aunt’s after that shooting.”

  She chewed her lip before speaking. “I wonder if he’ll be coming to the cotillion. If he does, I’ll insist he tell me…everything.”

  Her efforts to get her father to tell her about his troubles had failed while she was in Macon. Why would she think he’d change his mind? Alex drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. She’d be disappointed if she expected him to come to her cotillion. Gilbert Carey refused to leave Macon for any reason.

  But no need to distress her any further. “Are you looking for a suitor at your cotillion? I’m afraid you won’t find wealthy, titled men around here. Most of those who have money got it through greed.” He wasn’t sure why he said that. It wasn’t fair to any of her potential suitors, but the selfish part of him didn’t want any competition for her attention.

  “I’m not interested in titles—or wealth.”

  He laughed. “Only because you’ve never had to do without.”

  She pierced him with a glare. “I’m not as shallow as you think. I want a man I can love, and who will love me. Like my father loved my mother.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply you are shallow, Gillian.” No, her short life had been complex, and she’d been hurt in more ways than even she realized. He knew that now. And it was rather pitiful how she defended her parents who certainly didn’t love each other.

  She rubbed the mare’s sleek neck in an absent-minded way and spoke as if she hadn’t heard him. “And Papa did love her at one time. I remember as a little girl, watching him watching Mama. There was so much love in his eyes. I want to make the man I marry as happy as that, but his love must be forever.”

  Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “It’s strange. I wasn’t any closer to my mother than to my father.” She sniffed and stre
tched her smile wider. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I haven’t gotten through the grief of losing my mother and my brothers.”

  She shook her head as if shaking the sadness off, something she’d become adept at. “Enough about me. What are your plans, Alex? How long do you think the army will remain in Georgia this time?”

  “It won’t leave soon enough for me since I’ve decided to get out and return to Missouri. The army has helped the region all it can. Perhaps it’s helped too much already.”

  She pulled that lovely smile into a frown. “Or maybe it’s caused more problems than it’s helped.”

  “No. Order had to be restored, but there’s been too much meddling.” Before she had time for another sally, he added, “I received some information about your brother, Will.”

  Her eyes widened, and the sadness in their blue depths fled. “You did?”

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high, but this is a promising lead. The name of a man who was with a young soldier of your brother’s description at Chickamauga.”

  She held onto the pommel with a white-knuckle grip, excitement lighting her face. “Who, where? Have you contacted him?”

  “Haven’t had time, and I’ll have to go speak to him in person. He lives in a remote mountain town in North Georgia. Since I already have leave approved for tomorrow, I’ll go then.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “I will.” He’d do much more if it kept that light in her eyes. “I wouldn’t be much of a Southern gentleman if I didn’t go to such lengths for a lovely lady.”

  She took his comment as a tease and yanked an acorn off the tree to throw at him. It bounced off his shoulder. She opened her mouth, no doubt with a retort, but Purity rejoined them at that moment. “Thank you for waiting.”

  “That’s quite all right, I’ve enjoy debating with Gillian. Let’s go on to the new Capitol building, shall we.”

  Gillian turned her horse around. “Since we don’t know where it’s located, perhaps you’d better lead, captain.”