by Heather Boyd
“I have a midshipman on board whose predictions are accurate enough to set my sails by.” He waited until the duke sat, allowed the servants to fuss over him, and surveyed the meal they uncovered. Steak and eggs; pie too. Plus a great many dishes Felix had not sampled since he had become a captain. A meal fit for a king, or a member of the Duke of Rutherford’s large family. He saw a coffeepot and smiled as his cup was filled with the strong, rich liquid.
The footmen then served him a large portion of everything and stepped back to wait in the shadows. Felix followed the duke’s example to eat in silence, ignoring the tension of being under scrutiny of one who would judge him by his manners at table and probably find them lacking. It had been a long time since he had eaten in exalted company.
Months since he had been ashore.
When the plates were eventually cleared away and the footmen had returned to their other duties, the duke patted his stomach. “I like a man who values peace.”
“I have been at war my whole life.” He chuckled, finding Rutherford not as intimidating as he’d first feared he would be. Rutherford had good reason to be angry with him once. Felix had supposedly broken Sally Ford’s heart, and the duke was fiercely fond of his family. Perhaps he had mellowed as his age had increased. “I would not know what to do with peace.”
“Peace will come, sir, and you should be ready.” The duke’s stare pinned him in place. “It is only a matter of time before that bloody French prig is given his due, and then what will become of you?”
“Defeating Napoleon and France has been my mission for all the days of my service. I can barely imagine a time without war, and until the day comes when I can pass a Frenchman without being fired upon, I will keep up my guard.”
“Very wise, Captain.” The duke nodded. “But you must prepare for change.”
He frowned at that. Why talk of peace when he had come to speak of war with the admiral? “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Now, on to the business at hand. My son begged my leave today as he is engaged in another urgent matter,” the duke said. “The family, what there is of it at home, has gathered for the spring, and his attention has been diverted by the excitement of his guests.”
The admiral would not see him now? What the devil? He clenched his jaw at the delay that would keep him at Newberry longer than he liked. The messenger had claimed his presence was urgently required. That was the reason he had packed in a rush and departed London with all possible haste. “I am sorry to hear it. When will he see me?”
“Not until tomorrow, or the next day at the latest. He did not say exactly when, but I expect he will explain himself in good time.”
“Tomorrow or the day after?” Damn this nonsense. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I am needed for the war. My men and my ship are sitting idly at anchor.”
“I know exactly what you are needed for and not needed for at this time, sir,” the duke barked, as if delaying his return to his command made not the slightest scrap of difference in his opinion. “A room has been prepared. Morgan will arrange a man to attend you. Do make yourself at home, Captain Hastings.”
To anyone else the invitation to stay at the ducal residence would be a boon to a career, but to Felix it was likely to be torture. He did not want to stay here, but he owed this man his ship. “Your Grace, I should not like to intrude on a family gathering. There seemed a serviceable inn a short distance away. I would be very happy to wait there until the admiral has time to see me.”
The duke stared at him harder than ever. “Resign yourself to your visit, Captain.”
“Yes, of course.” He had to wonder why the duke insisted he stay, and stay within these walls, while he waited.
The duke smiled warmly all of a sudden. “You would not want to miss the opportunity of renewing your acquaintance with the family.”
The duke’s family was large and of all ages. He knew the part that belonged to the navy well, and the rest he knew to avoid socially if he could. That was the bargain he had made with the duke, and he intended to keep up his end.
His sole regret was that if he was here, Lady Sally Ford, the woman he had almost married six years ago, was undoubtedly elsewhere in the country—perhaps enjoying the delights of London.
Meeting his former intended would be awkward indeed since he had it on good authority that she hated the very mention of his name.
The admiral gestured with his cane. “Pull that bell over there.”
He tugged twice, reining in his frustration as best he could. He would wait. He had no choice in the matter apparently. At least he had managed to leave orders for repairs to keep the men occupied while they were at anchor. His second-in-command would keep the men in line well enough until he returned. And when he could return to London, he would act quickly to assist Jennings in reclaiming a command before he sailed again.
Morgan appeared very quickly. “How might I serve?”
“Escort Captain Hastings to his chambers and assign him a servant for the duration of his visit. And find out where my granddaughter has gotten to. Sally should have been here to greet the captain.”
He faced the duke, an awful sense of dread descending over him. “Sally is here?”
The duke’s eyes glittered with dreadful anticipation. “Oh, did not I mention it?”
Foolish hope filled him. “No.”
“This has always been her principal residence.” The duke’s expression soured. “She recently returned from London and brought guests who require entertaining. Undoubtedly, Lord Ellicott has tried to steal her away for yet another private tête-à-tête. I suspect a wedding is in the wind.”
Every part of Felix’s body screamed out in violent protest at the news that Sally was likely being courted, but he did not dare show any reaction in front of the duke. He had had his chance and lost it through his own stupidity and bad timing. He had known this day would come. Marriage was undoubtedly in Sally’s best interests and even more so for her family’s connections within the ton. “I will stay in the village inn.”
“Nonsense. The past is water under the bridge.” The duke raised a brow. “It has been six years since the debacle of your ill-advised engagement. I am assured she has forgotten all about you.”
The duke’s words were meant to hurt him, and he supposed he deserved it. Debacle was an interesting way to describe how he had walked right into her father’s political scheming and lost the love of the only woman he had ever wanted. He had been a fool and Sally a stubborn wench who would not listen to his side of the story. She had broken their engagement and sworn to run him through if they ever met again.
Since her brother had tutored her in fencing and he had seen her proficiency with his own eyes, he had believed her utterly capable of it too. As to whether she would regret it later or not, he was unsure, so he had kept a distance. At times several thousand miles and continents had lain between them.
He swallowed the bitter lump of misery that formed in his throat and pretended to be unaffected. “I am sure she never thought of me again.”
“Yes, yes,” the duke said, eyes narrowing. “The family has agreed that your past connection with my granddaughter will not be spoken of before our esteemed guests. It will be as if it never happened.”
So he was to be swept under the rug. How typical of the noble born to wave away the unpleasant with a flick of a perfumed wrist, as if Sally’s lost innocence could be restored as easily and their perfect world would remain unsullied.
He smiled tightly and nodded once.
The duke’s gaze left him. “Morgan, take the captain to his quarters and provide him with anything he needs for a comfortable stay. I am sure he is greatly fatigued by his journey.”
“Of course.” Morgan nodded. “Forgive the impertinence, Your Grace, but I would be remiss not to remind you of the promise you made last night at dinner.”
The duke’s face lit up with uncharacteristic amusement as he met Felix’s gaze. “My youngest granddaughter has the whole fami
ly under her tiny thumb but has the patience of the ferocious kittens Sally keeps about the place. Barely sixteen and every young man in the district is singling Evelyn out for attention already.”
“We met in Southampton a few years ago, and I remember thinking the same,” Felix confessed. The duke appeared startled by his observation. “She was with her brother inspecting the ships, and I was unable to avoid the introduction.”
The duke grunted. “She is a curious creature at heart and utterly without guile.”
“I thought so too. Very much like…” He broke off that thought and straightened his shoulders. He had been about to mention Sally. And he was not allowed to think of her anymore.
The duke’s attention slid away to the butler. “You might tell Evelyn that the carriage will be made ready in good time and we can spend a pleasant hour in the village.”
The butler nodded and led Felix to the door.
“Until the dinner hour, Captain Hastings,” Rutherford called out. “You will be joining the family for all meals.”
His calm faltered at that news. He would see Sally, be forced to meet her gaze, breathe the same air, perhaps even speak to her, while every Ford looked on. Would those that remembered their almost engagement believe the lie that he had meant to use her to advance his career or that he had loved her so much he had been willing to agree to anything her father had asked of him?
Sally should have believed in him, and her furious accusations had fired his blood to prove he deserved his command. He had paid highly for his success. Since he had the opportunity, he would set the record straight about her father’s scheming. He smiled, imagining the pleasure of what he might do and say to her when they did meet. He intended the event to be very memorable indeed.
He bowed deeply to the duke. “I look forward to it.”
Chapter Four
How did one fall in love a second time and know it would last? It was a question Sally had asked herself many times in the past years and especially today. She still had no answer that comforted her.
“You are so beautiful, sister,” Louisa enthused, fiddling with the delicate lace on the capped sleeve of the gown Sally would wear for her wedding at the end of the month.
“Thank you, my dear,” Sally murmured, twisting a little before her mirror. The little touches made after the gown’s creation made her apparel so dear to her heart. Each relative, whether skilled or clumsy, had embroidered in white a small motif upon the garment. The abundance of anchors and other seafaring signals made her smile.
Sally had been preparing for marriage all her life, as had her sister and three female cousins. At five and twenty, Sally and her family too had begun to despair her spinster state. But the fit of the gown was exquisite and her future husband was all she required in a gentleman. She would marry a very distinguished earl—and have the life she’d been born to live.
She smoothed her gloved hands down the embroidered silk, admiring her reflection in the cheval mirror, and pondered her future as Lord Ellicott’s wife.
Ellicott was possessed of great wit and conversation. They had a great many things in common—mutual friends, a love of London, and other amusements. He had a face to make many a debutant utterly flustered. She could not do better.
Even her sweet old grandfather, the Duke of Rutherford, had agreed with her there was no better man in England when she had shared her hopes of a proposal from Ellicott with him. He had taken the news very seriously and then told her if the right man were to propose no expense would be spared for her wedding this time around. He would give her and her future husband free use of Torre Cottage, the little-used dower house she admired so much on the edge of the estate, as a wedding gift if she would live there for most of the year.
She turned away from the mirror, well pleased with her appearance and the future laid out before her.
A wistful sigh escaped Evelyn. “I will not have to wait as long as you to find a man worthy of my regard. Love is a surety for me.”
Evelyn’s come-out might be a year away still, but the girl never doubted she would marry for love and only that. Sally remembered being so optimistic at sixteen, but that feeling had not survived past her eighteenth year. Sally’s reasons for delay in choosing a husband had been a private indecision on her part. “Well, whatever happens, the wait will seem like nothing once you settle on the right man.”
“I would rather not settle,” Evelyn said before sticking her nose into her book again. Evelyn was not impressed by Sally’s news she was to marry, and certainly not by Lord Ellicott. Not even the fact he was titled, an earl, swayed her into a more understanding frame of mind. “I will only marry a man who loves me madly,” she proclaimed.
Her youngest cousin was decidedly against the match, but she would have to accept it eventually. They might be cousins, but having lived together under the same roof in their grandfather’s homes their entire lives, they were as close as sisters. It was unthinkable that they would be at odds over such a silly thing as her choice of husband, and Sally hoped Evelyn could accept her decision and be happy for her.
“I am sure you will find someone when the time is right.” She turned her back to Louisa. “Unbutton me so I might put the gown away in readiness for my wedding day.”
“I cannot believe how soon that day will come,” Louisa whispered as she slipped buttons from their moorings. “Are you really so sure of him?”
Louisa was twenty and unmarried, a fact that didn’t seem to concern her. However, she had been unusually interested in Sally’s reasons for singling out Ellicott for notice during the season.
“I’m sure enough.” Sally stepped from the frothy white pile of fabric and stood in her unmentionables, rubbing a sudden chill from her arms. “Is that thunder or a carriage?”
Both women flew to the windows in excitement. “Is it William?”
They peered out and then slumped.
“That is not one of our carriages,” Evelyn whispered sadly, then flung herself onto the bed. “It is leaving anyway.”
Louisa cheered up first. “Oh, do say you will wear Grandmother’s star coronet with the gown when you marry Ellicott,” she pleaded, slipping open a dresser drawer and removing the beloved family heirloom to hold it up to the light. The piece, fine silver wire and stunning blue gems, had been Sally’s to wear on special occasions since her come-out eight years ago but now mocked her with its purity.
“That would be too much for the simple wedding I will have now.” She took the coronet and regretfully placed it back into the drawer where mementos of her younger days rested. She had agreed to a short engagement and a ceremony without fuss instead of the grand affair she had envisaged. Ellicott’s relations could not arrive in time for the ceremony anyway.
Sally crossed to the bed, nudged Evelyn so she would make room, and curled up at her side against the headboard. Her cousin’s mind was miles away, and Sally was concerned enough to grasp her hands. “I am sorry William has not come home yet.”
William, Evelyn’s older brother and Sally’s cousin, had been injured in an engagement against a French warship; however, no one would explain the extent of his injuries or why they could not see him.
“It has been so long since he came ashore,” Evelyn whispered as her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. “Why does Grandfather prevent us from going to London to see him? He is being so unreasonable.”
“We will hear something soon, I am sure. He is alive and we must have faith in him.” Sally was worried though. It had been too long since they had had any news of William. Sally longed to comfort the girl and threw an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. She had hoped news of her marriage might cheer everyone, and it had to a degree. Yet she did wonder at the prudence of considering a wedding when for all she knew one member of the family might be on the brink of death at that moment. “Take comfort that he is on English soil and not aboard ship for his recovery.”
“We should be with him, tending him,” Evelyn protested. “I
t is our right. We are his sisters. It is not our fault he and Father do not get along and would not be wanted. William should not be alone.”
Sally sighed. “He is not alone. Grandfather promised he was in the best possible hands to aid his recovery.”
“We do not even know what is wrong with him.” Evelyn sobbed suddenly, thumping her fist on the bed. Sally rubbed Evelyn’s shoulder, aware this might not be the last time her young cousin threw a fit of temper over a situation they could not control.
The men of the family refused to speak of very much to do with William within their hearing no matter how much they begged for information.
“I am sure they only wish to spare us the details. You know how our mothers will carry on. William never did like anyone fussing over him. I am sure when the worst is over we will be allowed to see him or he will come home to Newberry Park.”
She did not tell her cousin, but the first thing Sally would do as a married woman would be to visit William in London. Her grandfather could not stop her then.
Sally went to her wardrobe to hide her determination from her cousins and considered what to wear for dinner. She had to choose the perfect gown for such a special occasion as her wedding announcement. She fingered a delicate blue silk gown she had ignored for a while, considering if she could bear to wear the color again.
The door opened behind her. “You really are dragging your feet tonight, young lady,” Aunt Penelope Ford chided as she swept into the room. “Lady Ellicott was just remarking about not having seen you as yet.”
Sally would not apologize—no Ford worth their salt would ever admit they were at fault—but Aunt Penelope was Sally’s favorite relation, unmarried and undeterred from speaking her mind on any subject she was interested in and deserved an explanation. Sally released the blue gown and pulled a lovely pale green muslin trimmed with ribbons from the closet and held it up to the light. “Evelyn wanted to see the wedding gown now that it is almost finished. Everyone has left their mark except for you.”
