by Heather Boyd
“I do like her.” Sally’s pulse raced and she bit her lip as she waited for what she hoped might come next. “Her good opinion means the world to me.”
Not that she was sure she had it yet, but…
“I must say I never once thought we would both reach this age and not be married.” Ellicott sighed. “So it seems plain we must marry each other. What do you think of that idea?”
Chapter Two
As far as proposals of marriage went, that was possibly the dullest Sally had ever heard of, but it was at least an offer and she was already of the opinion she should accept Lord Ellicott. Therefore, she nodded and set her future in motion. “I would be very pleased to become your wife.”
Ellicott’s smile grew warmer. “Excellent. I must say I appreciate all you have done to stay in Mother’s good graces to this point. She can be difficult, and I know she can be a hard woman to warm to.”
“Hardly that. Lady Ellicott has been very welcoming.” Sally expected her heart to take flight now that her hopes for marriage had come true, but it sat dully in her chest, beating out the same rhythm of old. “We have been acquainted for such a long time that I often wondered if you would ever ask for my hand. I am so pleased you chose to speak up today.”
He released her hands. “Well, a man does not need to rush into matrimony.”
How right he was. Sometimes it was the biggest mistake a soul could make.
“No, he does not need to rush,” she agreed, speaking from experience that Ellicott did not know about nor need to. “I have often thought a hurried courtship a mistake for many women of our class.”
He smiled again. “Indeed, a man could wait his whole life for the right woman and not recognize her until his last days were upon him.”
“But that is not the case with us.” She threaded her arm through his and they started to walk along the path together, away from prying eyes and her mother. “We have found each other and will be happy together.”
“We will indeed.” He glanced at her sideways. “Mother can stop worrying for the succession at last.”
She colored a little. She would have to spend time in his bed to begin their family, but speaking about it now was not something Sally had anticipated. “And my family will be happy too.”
He sighed heavily. “I should like to speak to your father and arrange the marriage contract today.”
“I have not seen him since dawn, but he said he was not to be disturbed until midafternoon. Our butler, Morgan, will let him know you wish to speak with him. I feel confident he can have no objection to a match between us.”
When they reached the protection of a stone archway at the end of the walk, Ellicott drew back and stared at her. “I should like everyone to know at once of course, and I am hoping the admiral will allow me to make the announcement to your family at dinner tonight before I have to go.”
“You are leaving?”
“Nothing to worry yourself about.” He patted her hand. “A pressing matter of business requires my return to London for a few days. Mother prefers not to travel with me so she will remain behind if that is agreeable. I should be back as soon as my business allows, and with luck I will have time enough to speak with the archbishop about a license while I am away. We can then be married and return to London before May entertainments have truly begun.”
Sally was a little surprised by his haste to wed. The end of April was two weeks away. He had never given the impression that he was so anxious for them to be man and wife. It gave Sally little time to prepare for her new life, but she could do it for the right reason. She wanted to be a wife, to have a home of her own and someone specific to care for. “Yes, everything would be perfect for a dinner announcement. I am sure my father would be very pleased to have you do so after your talk.”
She took a step toward him, prepared for a kiss to seal their bargain. Ellicott saw her purpose and smiled gently before lowering his face to hers. His lips claimed hers, delivering a dry, closemouthed kiss that lacked any spark of passion whatsoever. When he drew back after a moment, confusion filled Sally. It was an important day. Why did he not kiss her properly?
He squeezed her fingers and released her. “We should go back inside before your mother or sister or aunt or cousins come looking for us. I should not like to have them think us scandalous.”
Her mother’s voice hailed them urgently from the other side of the wisteria. “Lord Ellicott! Sally, darling!”
Ellicott glanced her way with a sly smile and then laughed. “You see, barely enough time for a private proposal before we are sought out. The sooner you are mine, and away from here, the better.”
“I am sorry.” Sally smiled until her face ached. “My mother is very protective and a stickler for observing propriety.”
“I understand.” He drew back, his eyes dancing with mirth. “You of course would never allow liberties. Your brothers would be very quick to demand satisfaction of any who slighted you.”
Sally’s heart sank, but she kept her smile pasted on her face. Her brothers would not wait on any duel before obtaining satisfaction. They would take matters into their own hands immediately and teach the scoundrel a lesson with their fists. There might not even be a body to be found afterward. Sally’s brothers were dangerous men and not to be crossed. Navy men, used to having their own way. She was glad the war against France allowed for their absence from Newberry Park at such a time. Ellicott needed to remain ignorant of their true natures for a little longer.
And unaware of hers too.
~ * ~
“Not long now,” Felix Hastings, captain of His Majesty’s frigate the Selfridge, said to his companion as the end of their journey came in sight. Newberry Park, nestled on the windswept Essex coastline, had undoubtedly been designed to intimidate lesser mortals. Home of the Duke of Rutherford and his large family, the estate possessed a tree-lined drive that meandered through lush grounds and led to a large redbrick-and-stone mansion perched high on a distant hill.
He had never expected to see this place, let alone be invited.
Manicured gardens bordered the grand home, but his eye was drawn to the sweeping views of the wild sea, which was lit by the dazzling afternoon sun. It was as pretty as had been described to him once.
“Thought we would never get here,” Gabriel Jennings, former captain of HMS Persephone, grumbled sleepily from his spot across the carriage.
Felix spared a brief glance at the shabbily dressed man and had to wonder if he was finally sober enough to make sense. “You could have stayed behind in London. My rooms at Fladong’s Hotel are paid for until the end of the month, and I had a man there.”
Jennings scratched at the scraggy dark stubble gracing his jaw. “London’s become a bore. What else was there for a friend to do but make sure you find a modicum of pleasure during your shore leave.”
“I do not think you have shorted yourself any pleasure since I saw you last,” Felix said, slightly disapproving of his friend’s attitude but willing to overlook it. Jennings looked like hell and had to have had a fine time getting there. Getting him back in the good graces of the admiralty might take a miracle at this rate, but he would do his best when they returned to London.
The man shoved the blanket he had slept under away and stretched like a cat—the kind who felt at home wherever they might be, no matter the conditions. “Who knows what sort of mischief can be had in the country, eh? And we are in your beloved admiral’s neck of the woods too,” Jennings said with a smile, an expression Felix knew well enough to worry about.
It was mischief that had put Jennings out of favor with Admiral Greer and therefore with the admiralty. Harmless mischief to some perhaps, but few at the war office had a sense of humor these days. A mistimed jest had cost the man his command.
Jennings had been having one hell of a time in London when Felix had caught up with him before dragging him home with him to sleep off his intoxication. Unfortunately, things had not gone as planned, and here they w
ere at the end of a hundred-mile journey into Essex.
He shook his head. The first sign that the man had moved on from the loss of his wife and he had been punished for it. Felix hoped to hell he could save his friend from further mischief and misery by speaking up on his behalf. “I am sure to be sent away as soon as the admiral states his business. Then we will pay our respects to Admiral Greer in London and see what can be done to get your command reinstated.”
“Greer is a first-class piss prophet.” Gabriel composed his face into that of an angelic man. “However, I will be the soul of discretion and swear not to make trouble for you. You are a better friend than I deserve.”
“Utter rubbish, but your discretion would be appreciated. I do not like this summons.” Felix allowed the curtain to fall over the view and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had been traveling since last night to answer Admiral Lord Templeton’s urgent request for a meeting far from London and the admiralty, with only Jennings’ drunken snores for company. Felix had faced countless battles, defeated and claimed a score of French ships in his career, and it was essential to present himself to his admiral with his wits about him.
As the carriage drew to a halt, he adjusted his best gloves and collected his bicorn from the facing seat, brushing any dust from the fading felt. Urgent summons or not, it was important he make a good impression and appear calm and utterly in command. He had dressed for the occasion, stopping a few miles back to change into his formal uniform. “There was an inn in the last village we passed. If I have not returned to the carriage in the next hour, have the driver take you there and wait for me. I will send word by nightfall if this affair will be protracted.”
Jennings tugged the blanket back over himself and hunched against the squabs. “Have you ever known Templeton to be short of speech?”
He gritted his teeth a moment, considering his chances of making a swift escape. Unlikely. “Not once. I will see you soon.”
“Good luck,” Jennings whispered. “And do mind your manners.”
Once on firm ground, Felix swayed. Land was a foreign environment for him now. After spending most of his life at sea, he was more accustomed to the rolling deck of his ship than stability of soil. He would much rather remain in the moving carriage or planted on deck at the wheel of his warship, giving orders to his crew in the fiercest of gales.
Blue-liveried servants rushed out to greet his carriage; one older man introduced himself as Mr. Morgan, the great house’s butler.
“Sir,” Hastings murmured, giving due courtesy easily to the most important servant employed on the estate.
Morgan gestured toward the towering double oak doors with an urgent sweep of his hand. “This way, please.”
The situation must indeed be dire, given the rush. He glanced over his shoulder toward the carriage and Jennings and was astonished to see his entire luggage being removed from the conveyance by the duke’s servants. He halted the butler. “I thought the matter was urgent and my visit was to be brief.”
He had hoped it would be over almost immediately actually, but Jennings was right—Templeton never did cut to the chase in conversation when he had center stage.
“Indeed, it is urgent,” Morgan claimed. “His Grace will explain everything soon, Captain.”
“His Grace?” He and the Duke of Rutherford had an agreement that he keep a distance from the Ford family at all costs, save for his immediate superior. “My orders were to present myself to the admiral.”
The butler winced. “Please, the Duke of Rutherford will explain. He must not be kept waiting.”
Chapter Three
How could a man in Felix’s position refuse a powerful duke like Rutherford a moment of his time? He could not unless he wished to become a captain without a ship and crew. Felix just hoped their meeting could be brief—very brief indeed. “Very well.”
Once inside the entrance hall, he tucked his hat under his arm and glanced around, eyes widening. He had known from gossip that the Duke of Rutherford’s Newberry Park estate was impressive, but such riches were beyond his wildest dreams. Four marble columns ascended two floors to support a domed ceiling that sparkled with gold. The man had surely spent enough on this chamber alone to build a dozen ships for the Royal Navy, or perhaps even his own personal fleet. No wonder the family had such influence in society. They could buy anyone and anything they wanted.
His advancement to command the Selfridge as post captain at three and twenty years was ample proof of that.
“This way,” Morgan said as he gestured to a side doorway.
Felix moved through a deserted sitting room and then into a large, cluttered book room. Finely bound volumes in floor-to-ceiling oak cases covered every wall, maps lay strewn haphazardly across tables, and at the far end of the room sat a small man almost unseen due to the chaos around him.
“Captain Hastings, Your Grace,” Morgan announced and then departed, snapping the doors shut behind him.
“Ah, Hastings. At last you have come to Newberry. You are late.” Despite the appearance of small stature, the duke’s powerful voice boomed through the room. He had not changed.
“Your Grace.” He bowed and strode forward, unsure of his reception but determined to meet the challenge. “I came as soon as the admiral’s message reached me.”
The duke waved his hand toward a chair. “Please take a seat.”
“Thank you.” He did and then studied the man before him properly once the room settled into a slow drift from side to side. Rutherford might be small and his gray hair might signify considerable age, but it was easy to conclude the duke was not a man to cross from the direct manner he was being scrutinized in return.
“I trust your journey was uneventful and the weather fair?” the duke murmured.
“Yes, I covered the miles without incident,” Felix assured him, growing puzzled by the duke’s affable tone. “I have not been to this part of the countryside before. ’Tis very beautiful.”
“It is indeed.”
The duke stared at him with one brow raised. “You have become the best hound in the Royal Navy. You have achieved everything you promised me you would and more.”
“I trust you are satisfied with our arrangement, Your Grace,” Felix said, shifting in his chair at the memory of their prior meetings. A meeting where he had agreed to give up half the captain’s portion of the prize for the duke’s political backing and the ship beneath his feet. He might answer to Admiral Lord Templeton, but he was the duke’s man till he breathed his last breath. It was in his best interests to be accommodating and polite. “I am well aware I could not have achieved so much without your continued support. You have my gratitude.”
The duke studied him directly. “Our bargain was a mutually beneficial arrangement. I asked you not to meddle in family affairs, but it seems inevitable.”
Felix stilled and then cursed the Earl of Rothwell’s soft heart. Last year, Laurence Ford, the duke’s grandson and a lieutenant aboard his ship, had eloped with a girl. Rothwell, another grandson of the Duke of Rutherford and Sally’s older cousin, would have helped Laurence just for the fun of tweaking his family’s nose since they largely disapproved of him. “I have done everything in my power to protect Laurence without the appearance of favoritism that would set him apart from the other officers. I can hardly be held responsible for his actions whilst on leave.”
The duke scowled.
He had actually known about the elopement as Laurence and Lady Cecily were fleeing for Scotland, so he had to tread carefully about what secrets he kept. In retrospect, he might have been able to stop the marriage if he had gone to Rutherford with the news immediately. But he had not actually thought it his place to tell tales. “I did not know he had married until his return to ship.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” There had always been a chance the wedding would not take place. The family might have caught wind of the matter, or Laurence himself might have changed his mind. Felix waite
d, biding his time to see if the duke absolved him of collusion in the scheme.
The duke pursed his lips and then let out a deep breath. “I have no concerns about your treatment of Laurence. A little hardship now and then builds character in a man. I suppose I will have to settle a small estate on him close to London and remove his wife there after the war. Laurence must live with his choice of bride on his return and rue the day he acted so rashly.”
Felix sighed in relief and said nothing to that. He was not acquainted with the woman Laurence had married and did not ever pass judgment on anyone in love. Rutherford had ambitions for his grandchildren that outweighed everything else.
Especially love.
The door creaked open nearby and he turned, expecting Admiral Templeton to have come to end this awkward conversation. However, three servants bearing loaded trays moved about in the adjoining room and began laying a table with silverware and fine white linen. There was no sign of the admiral, so he resumed his seat.
“Thank you, Swift,” His grace called as the servants bowed. When they were gone, the duke speared him with a hard glance. “Captain, I do not normally eat with the family at this hour. They fuss. But I would have you join me.”
Dining with the duke had not crossed his mind, but he could not refuse. It was a great honor that Jennings would undoubtedly laugh uproariously over later if he were still sober. And Felix was starved. He had not eaten since yesterday, moments before he had thrown himself into the carriage to reach this meeting place. Hunger or not, generous offer or not, he would have to keep his wits about him still. “It would be a privilege.”
The duke stood, collecting two canes for support as he shambled across the carpeted floor. That was new. The movement appeared to pain him, and the man noticed Felix watching. “Wounds from my own stupidity years ago have begun to plague me. No doubt when you reach my age, your bones will ache like the devil too when a change of the weather is coming.”
