Regency Admirer/The Merry Gentleman/The Gentleman's Demand

by Meg Alexander

  “I’ll try.” Elizabeth forgot her own terror. “Can you stand?”

  “If you’ll give me a hand...”

  He was a brawny fellow, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she managed to assist him to stand upon his one good leg.

  “Lean on me!” she ordered. “Which way now?”

  “Straight ahead!” Dazed and half-unconscious, he showed no surprise to find her aboard the Artemis.

  Their struggle down to the hold seemed to Elizabeth to take an eternity, and when they reached it she was exhausted. Then, as she looked about her, she forgot her aching limbs.

  The scene might have come from Dante’s Inferno. Wounded men lay everywhere, screaming, moaning, or lying ominously still. Sea-chests had been pushed together to make a rough operating-table, and in the dim light of the lanterns the surgeon was busy at his dreadful work.

  Elizabeth waited until he had finished sewing up a long strip of tattered flesh.

  “This man is badly injured,” she said briefly.

  Startled, he looked up at her. “What the devil?” Then he shrugged and turned his attention to the man beside her. “Get him on here,” he said. “Miss, this is no place for you. My assistant has been killed, and I have no time for fainting females.”

  “I won’t faint.” Elizabeth’s chin went up. “What can I do to help?”

  A quick glance told him that she meant it. He gave her a hard stare. “Most of them need water...others need cleaning up... And a prayer wouldn’t come amiss.” With that he turned back to his grisly task. Elizabeth lost all track of time. She was dimly aware that the guns of the Artemis were firing without respite, and the din of battle was deafening, but she had no terrors now. All her attention was for the wounded.

  One of the less seriously injured gave her a friendly grin. “We’re giving as good as we got, miss. That last shot from my gun took away their mainmast. The Frenchman is crippled now.”

  She returned his smile, but she was only half-attending to his words. Others needed her more. Later, when the firing stopped, it made no difference to her. She was locked in a world of pain and death. She did not notice when the constant stream of wounded began to lessen.

  It was as she bent over a rough pallet to comfort a man with hideous injuries that a harsh voice spoke above her head.

  “Mr Wentworth, what is this? I gave orders that no women were to sail aboard this vessel...”

  “Hush!” Elizabeth cried imperiously. “Can’t you see that this man is dying?”

  Captain Robsart dropped to his knees beside her. There was no mistaking the livid hue of approaching death. Elizabeth ignored him, holding her patient’s hand until the stertorous, irregular breathing stopped. With a last long sigh, the man expired, and she closed her eyes.

  “Miss, you had best come with me,” the captain said more gently.

  “Not now,” she muttered. “I am needed here.” Elizabeth motioned him away. The man must be a fool if he thought she would desert the injured.

  Captain Robsart was taken aback. On the Artemis his word was law, and he was unaccustomed to such cavalier dismissal of his wishes. He opened his mouth to order her obedience, but she had already moved away.

  He stared at her in silence. There was something in her manner, perhaps in the carriage of her head, which told him that this was a lady of quality.

  He drew his first lieutenant to one side. “Mr Wentworth, I’ll see you in my cabin.” He turned his back on Perry, and began to move among the wounded. Then, satisfied that the surgeon was doing all he could, he stamped away.

  Perry followed him, dreading the coming interview. The shock of seeing Elizabeth in that hellish place of agony and death had unnerved him far beyond the fact that her presence had been discovered. He’d wanted to protect her. Instead, she’d been exposed to sights which a grown man would find difficult to endure. How was he to explain her presence to his superior officer?

  The captain wasted no time. “Well, sir, what have you to say? Will you tell me that the young lady is a stowaway? I hope not! I should not believe you.”

  “No, sir. Miss Grantham is not a stowaway, though she was brought aboard without my knowledge... If I might explain?”

  “Pray do so! You have my full attention!” The fierce eyes glared at his unfortunate subordinate.

  In a few halting words, Perry tried to tell his story. Stated so baldly, it sounded too fantastic to be believed, but he struggled on, aware of the growing astonishment on the captain’s face.

  “You see, sir, by the time I found Miss Grantham we had sailed...it was too late to put her ashore...” His voice tailed away in misery.

  He thought the captain would explode with rage. “It did not occur to you to come to me?” he shouted. “By God, sir, I won’t have it! You conceal a passenger aboard this ship, and keep me in ignorance? She should have been put ashore in Gibraltar. Confess it, this is a cock-and-bull story, without a word of truth in it. She is your fancy-piece...”

  Perry stiffened. He held his captain in a respect which bordered on awe, but the statement could not be allowed to pass.

  “No, sir, she is not. I admit I feel responsible for her—”

  “Do you, indeed? Then I wonder why you should see fit to expose her to the dangers of a voyage aboard a warship. What were you about, man, to allow her into that stinking hold?”

  “I did not know of it,” Perry told him helplessly. “She must have gone there on her own.”

  “A likely tale!” The scorn in the captain’s voice stung Perry to the quick. His face grew pale with anger. He would not be called a liar.

  His voice was cold as he replied, “Sir, it is the truth, I assure you.”

  “I have no faith in your assurance. Fetch the young lady to me, and at once.”

  Dismissed without ceremony, Perry made his way back to the hold. He took Elizabeth by the hand, and tried to lead her away, but she resisted. Then the surgeon came to her.

  “You need rest,” he told her gently. “You have done all you can, and I don’t want another patient on my hands.”

  Elizabeth looked doubtful.

  “Go now!” he insisted. “Madam, I am most grateful for your help. The men are in your debt. May I know your name?”

  “I am Elizabeth Grantham,” she replied in a weary voice. Then Perry hurried her away.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Captain Robsart wishes to see you.” Perry sensed that she was trembling with exhaustion, but he would not release his grip upon her hand.

  “But I can’t...not like this. Just look at me!” Elizabeth glanced down at her gown. The bodice and the front of the skirt were stiff with drying blood. “You must let me change.”

  “Forget it!” Perry told her grimly. “We are in trouble enough. If we keep him waiting...”

  “What can he do?” Elizabeth’s chin went up. “The man isn’t God, is he?”

  “He’s close enough aboard this vessel, so don’t fly into the boughs. I advise you to moderate your tone.” He thrust her ahead of him at the captain’s command to enter the cabin.

  Annoyed by the ferocious glare which greeted her, Elizabeth stiffened and Perry closed his eyes, fearing the worst.

  “You may sit down, miss.” Captain Robsart was quick to notice that she was close to collapse, in spite of her air of hauteur. Only her grip upon the back of a chair was holding her upright. He poured out a glass of wine and brought it to her.

  “You must be very tired. Drink this! I should let you rest, but you must spare me a few minutes.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She could not summon up the strength to argue.

  “Now, madam, I will have the truth. Wentworth here has told me a story which I find hard to believe.”

  “You may believe it, sir.” Elizabeth’s eyes locked with his own. “Mr Wentworth is not a liar.”

  “But that your father would consider such a course of action...?”

  “Here! This will prove it!” Elizabeth
reached into her pocket, and thrust her father’s letter into the captain’s hand.

  “I see!” The older man’s face grew grave as he scanned the few paragraphs. “Even so, Mr Wentworth, you have behaved very ill. I should break you here and now. You may go. Later, I shall consider further action.”

  “You cannot mean to punish him?” Elizabeth cried hotly. “That would be unjust!”

  “Miss, you forget yourself...” The captain’s eyebrows rose.

  “No, I don’t! I had heard that you were strict but fair. This is all my fault. I might have called for help...made myself known to you...”

  “But you did not, Miss Grantham. Why was that?” His voice had grown more gentle. Her eager defence of Perry reminded him so forcibly of his youngest daughter, who was the darling of his heart.

  “I don’t know, sir...perhaps because I am not yet very wise...” Elizabeth had seen the change in his manner, and now she dimpled at him. That smile had caused many of her father’s elderly friends to pinch her cheek, and accuse her of being a taking little minx.

  The captain was no exception, and his stern face relaxed. “Well, well, you are very young, I think. I could wish that you had not gone among the wounded. Such sights are most unsuitable for a lady.”

  “I wanted to help,” she told him simply. “Sir, will you excuse me? I should like to change my clothing.”

  “Of course, of course! Thoughtless of me to keep you here in that condition. You have my thanks, you know, in spite of all. Wentworth, you and Miss Grantham will dine with me this evening.”

  It was an order, rather than a request and, sensible of the honour done him, Perry bowed. Then he made haste to whisk Elizabeth from the captain’s presence.

  Outside the cabin, he heaved an audible sigh of relief. “What a chance you took!” he murmured. “Elizabeth, you must not speak to Captain Robsart in that high-and-mighty way. He is owed respect, you know.”

  “Well, I do respect him,” she said artlessly. “But I had to tell the truth. His bark is worse than his bite, I think. He is really quite a dear...”

  Perry stared at her in stupefaction. Clearly, she was not intimidated by his formidable superior. He shook his head. Women were a race apart. He would never understand them.

  This belief was confirmed later that evening as he, Elizabeth and Chris sat down to dine at the captain’s table.

  Cheered by the success of his brush with the enemy, Captain Robsart was in the best of spirits and Elizabeth encouraged this expansive mood. As he explained his use of various tactics to overcome the larger vessel, she hung upon his every word.

  At length he paused, suddenly aware that details of a naval engagement were unlikely to be of much interest to his guest.

  “Forgive me, I must be boring you, Miss Grantham.” To the astonishment of his junior officers he looked positively diffident.

  “Not at all! I wish that I might have been on deck to see it.”

  “That would never do, my dear. The snipers are the danger at close quarters. Sadly, it was a musket-ball which struck our purser.”

  “Was that the man who died when I was with him? Had he any family...?”

  “Aye! A wife and children, I believe. A bad business...I shall write to her, of course.”

  He turned the conversation to more cheerful topics. “Your father is a collector of antiquities, I believe. Do you share his interests?”

  It was enough to divert Elizabeth’s thoughts from the horrors of the day. Disclaiming any specialised knowledge, she began to chat about her father’s treasures, ably assisted by Chris.

  Perry alone was silent. He scarcely touched the turbot which was laid before them, and took only a mouthful of a fine ham braised in Madeira wine. Even a platter of cheese could not tempt him, and he waved away the tiny maids-of-honour.

  The captain had not done with him, he knew that well enough. He had committed a serious breach of discipline, and his chosen career must now be at an end. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

  And Chris? Was he to share the same fate? At all costs, he must be kept out of this unfortunate affair, but could the captain be brought to believe that he knew nothing of it?

  Then Chris nudged him from beneath the table. Looking up, he saw Chris shake his head. It was a clear warning to pull himself together, but Captain Robsart had not noticed his preoccupation.

  At that moment he was pressing Elizabeth to take another of the tiny cakes.

  “We are not used to being so spoiled, Miss Grantham. Cook has sent them up for you.”

  “They are delicious.” Elizabeth swallowed another mouthful, but the rigours of the day were beginning to take their toll.

  Increasingly, she found it difficult to concentrate upon the conversation and at last she begged to be excused.

  “Sleep well, Miss Grantham. You have my thanks, and that of all the crew. You have done well today.” With a courtly bow, the captain kissed her hand. Then he ordered Perry to see her to her cabin.

  To her horror, she found that she was almost unable to stand. Swaying with weariness, she made no objection when Perry slipped an arm about her waist. Then he saw that her eyes were filled with tears.

  “What is it, love?” he asked.

  Elizabeth did not notice the endearment. Reaction was setting in. “I was thinking of that man...the purser. How dreadful to die so far from those he loved.”

  “Try to put it from your mind, Elizabeth. All sailors know the risks.”

  “But it is such a waste...his poor wife, and his children...”

  Perry threw open the cabin door. Then he kicked it closed behind him and took her in his arms.

  “You are exhausted, dearest. Won’t you try to rest? You did your best for him, and it must have been some comfort to him to have you there at the last.” He took out a snowy handkerchief and dabbed tenderly at her cheeks.

  Elizabeth buried her face in his coat. “It isn’t much consolation. Am I being foolish? In the hold there was no time to think, but now it all comes back...”

  Perry sat down and took her on his knee, rocking her like a child. “You’ll feel better tomorrow,” he promised. “Things will be different since there is no longer any need for secrecy. You’ll be much more comfortable.”

  Still she clung to him, crushing his lapels. “I don’t care about that,” she choked out. “Oh, Perry, will the captain punish you? I can’t bear it!”

  Gently, he disengaged her fingers. “A first-class seaman like myself?” he joked. “You can have no idea of all my skills. Where would Captain Robsart find such another paragon?”

  “Are you teasing me again?” She gave him a misty smile.

  “Of course not, goose! You’ve curbed his wrath, you little witch! He was purring like a pussy cat.”

  “Did you think so?” She closed her eyes. Then her head fell forward and, looking down, he realised that she had fallen fast asleep.

  He shook her slightly, but he could not rouse her. With a sigh he laid her down upon the bunk, and began to untie the ribbons which secured her dainty sandals. Then he loosened the buttons of the gown which fastened to her throat. He could do no more.

  Defenceless in sleep, she looked so vulnerable that his heart turned over. With a reverent hand he traced the line of one smooth cheek. What a mystery she was, lion-hearted one moment, and so feminine the next! He left the cabin quickly, before he was tempted into folly.

  He returned to join Chris and the captain at their port, but when Chris rose to take his leave, Perry was requested to remain behind.

  Were all his fears to be confirmed? He’d always loved the sea, and his naval career was all important to him. Now, as he waited to learn his fate, his heart was heavy.

  Captain Robsart twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers. “Well, Mr Wentworth, this is a pretty kettle of fish!”

  Perry said nothing. He could not deny it.

  “Miss Grantham is in a most difficult position. She has lived aboard this vessel, in your company, and w
ithout protection, for some time. Her reputation must now be in question!”

  “Sir, I gave up my cabin to her. There has been nothing...I mean, she has not been harmed in any way.”

  “Are you blind, young man? She is quite the loveliest woman I have ever seen. Who will believe that you have not made advances to her?”

  Perry was about to protest his innocence. Then he remembered his fall from grace. He was unwilling to admit that he had kissed her, but his face gave him away.

  “Quite!” the captain said drily. “No man of flesh and blood could find her less than desirable. Now, sir, I believe you to be a man of honour. What do you suggest?”

  “I...I don’t know...” Perry stared at his superior officer.

  “You disappoint me, Mr Wentworth. You know quite well that you must wed her.”

  “Sir, with respect, I can’t. I said as much to Mr Grantham when he suggested it.”

  The fierce eyes regarded him with contempt. “You have some previous commitment?”

  “No, it is not that. I had no wish to be coerced. Besides, Elizabeth would never agree. She holds me in dislike.”

  “Evidently a woman of some taste! However, that cannot be allowed to stand in the way of what is right and proper. In time you will learn to deal together...”

  The captain hid a smile. He had his own views on Miss Grantham’s opinion of his first lieutenant.

  “There must be no delay,” he continued. “Tomorrow you will speak to the young lady.”

  Perry felt a sense of growing desperation. He could well imagine how the captain’s orders would be received by Elizabeth. He withdrew in some disorder.

  A sleepless night did nothing to ease his mind. On the following day he delayed his interview with Elizabeth for as long as possible, but when he sought her out at last it was to find his cabin empty.

  “Beg pardon, sir, but the captain sent his compliments to the young miss. She is taking breakfast with him.”

  The smirk on the cabin boy’s face vanished as he met Perry’s stony gaze. He scurried away before the lieutenant’s wrath could be visited on his head.

  Perry groaned inwardly. Captain Robsart was not noted for his tact. It was entirely possible that he had already made his wishes clear to Elizabeth.