Scandalously Wed to the Captain

by Joanna Johnson

  Footsteps on the other side of the parlour door prompted Mrs Linwood to finally shift her attention from Grace and she sighed with quiet relief. It was such an effort to control the twitch of her lips as they fought to turn down, to keep her eyes dry despite the tears that ached to fall in a river down pale cheeks. Hopefully the footsteps signalled the maid bringing tea, although the clock perched next to Lucy’s chair showed it was still surely too early for such a thing as the door handle turned slowly and a figure stepped into the room.

  Mr Linwood looked around him, taking in the five faces that stared back in mute disbelief. For a long moment nobody moved, each frozen to the spot by paralyzing shock—and then in a flurry of whirling skirts and thrown needlework all five descended upon him, their shrieks rebounding about the room in a cacophony of unbridled amazement.

  ‘Papa!’

  ‘Papa, you’re home! How is it you are home?’

  ‘Robert! What is this? Why are you here?’

  Even Grace’s troubles were momentarily forgotten as she clung to her father, the only part of him she was able to reach through the cluster of bodies that surrounded him one of his damp-coated arms. It felt thinner than she had known it before the gates of the Fleet had closed behind him, but the glimpses of his face she caught between her mama’s kisses showed it to be a much healthier colour than when she had last seen it and filled out a little with obviously better rations. The improved quarters and food Spencer had insisted on providing had evidently worked wonders and Grace felt a sharp upswing of gratitude for the absent husband she wished was here to share in their joy.

  Hardly a single sensible word was uttered for some minutes as faces were blotted with handkerchiefs and tears wiped from astounded eyes. It was only when Mr Linwood looked to be flagging that his wife came to her senses and ushered him towards a chair, allowing no refusal in the same way Spencer had been given no option on his visit.

  ‘How can it be that you are here, my love? What has happened for this to be possible?’ Grace watched as her mother perched on the arm of Papa’s chair, her hands gripping his tightly as though to make sure he didn’t disappear. ‘This is the most wonderful thing. Are you home for good?’

  There was an intake of breath from around the room as Mr Linwood nodded, the smile that stretched the creases at his eyes only widening at their wordless delight.

  ‘I am indeed. I have returned to live with you all again and, what is more, I come as a man whose innocence is finally beyond refute.’

  Another gasp was torn from five mouths to ripple around the room in a wave of wonder.

  ‘How, Papa? What happened?’ Cecily knelt on the floor next to her father, gazing up at him as though she still couldn’t quite believe her eyes. ‘How was your innocence proven?’

  ‘Fisher and Armand arrived at the Fleet and confessed their guilt. It seems they were hunted down by a predator who would not rest until he had tracked his prey and caught them, leaving me a free man and the true villains where they belonged.’

  The low flicker of some dim suspicion began to kindle at the very back of Grace’s mind before she dismissed it with a brief frown. It was so unlikely, surely so implausible—a silly fancy she’d be a fool to give a moment of consideration. And yet...

  Kneeling at her father’s other side, she couldn’t help the stirrings of the idea from growing.

  But surely he would have no cause to do such a thing. For what possible reason would he undertake such an enormous task and so secretly? Seeing Papa again so unexpectedly has surely confused me; that’s all it can be.

  ‘Who was this person?’ Mrs Linwood blinked back fresh tears welling in her blue eyes. ‘Tell me his name so I might kiss him myself!’

  Her husband squeezed her hand with tender affection before turning to Grace, who returned his look with eyes wide with dawning understanding.

  ‘You already have his name. It was Captain Spencer Dauntsey—the husband of that very daughter who sits at my side, looking as though she knew nothing about it!’

  Grace’s mouth fell open, her mind completely blank as her mother and sisters stared at her in frank astonishment.

  ‘You never let slip a word! I had no idea you could be so sly!’ Margaret gaped as though she’d never been more stunned, her amazement turning to confusion at Grace’s frozen shock.

  ‘I didn’t know.’ Her voice was quiet, scarcely more than a whisper that had to battle against the sudden roar of frenzied activity that swept through her dazed mind. Her consciousness swung from empty to buzzing with too much commotion in the blink of an eye and Grace raised a hand to her heated brow as if cool fingers could soothe how it now burned.

  It was Spencer, after all? That’s where he went when he ran from me?

  It couldn’t be true. Spencer was filled with regret at their moment of closeness, appalled at any fondness he might have unwillingly felt for his new wife—wasn’t he?

  A creeping hope began to steal through Grace’s nerves, a tentative gleam of light where before there had been only darkness.

  Surely if he wished to distance himself from me he would not have done such a wonderful thing. He had already helped Papa so much—why would he have ventured further?

  ‘Upon my word, I had no idea what Spencer intended when he left. Are you quite certain it was him?’

  ‘Well, of course. He escorted me home himself! We stopped at an inn last night so I could change and make myself presentable, then Spencer was good enough to let me have his carriage—your carriage, I suppose, Grace—to bring me straight here this morning.’

  Grace’s spirits soared up to the sky at her father’s words, but she forced herself to temper their wild climb despite the heat beginning to gather in her stomach. She could feel the questioning eyes upon her, although the room had begun to blur with the excitement she felt pulse within her that she feared she might not be able to contain.

  ‘But he is not with you?’ The sudden notion he might be waiting outside the room or somewhere else unseen kicked Grace’s already thumping heart up another notch, but her father shook his head.

  ‘No. He thought we would want this moment for ourselves. I tried to persuade him to come with me, but he insisted on getting down from the carriage at the crossroads and walking the rest of the way back to Nevin Place so I could travel on immediately.’ He smiled, admiration hiding behind the upward turn of his lips. ‘You weren’t lying when you said he was determined. I’m not sure there’s anybody in the world who could alter any course he’s made up his mind to pursue—except for you, of course.’

  Mr Linwood regarded his eldest daughter for a long moment, some unreadable expression on his drawn face that made Grace pull up short in her hurtling zigzag between joy and intense confusion.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘It’s quite a journey from London, as you know—plenty of time for talking. I already had the idea that behind that serious exterior lay a good heart. Listening to his praise of my daughter only convinced me further that whatever beats within his chest is now entirely in your keeping.’

  The rest of the world fell away to leave Grace bathed in a burst of sunshine, illuminating every shadowy corner of her soul to sparkle in its light. Her doubts dimmed beneath its power, brushed aside like cobwebs covering a window, and a bright glow of optimism seeped in that took root and wouldn’t be denied.

  He loves me? Can it be true?

  The tentative hope raised itself higher above the parapet of her former unhappiness, reaching out to seize her fears in its burning grip and turn them to ash. It was determined, courageous and gave Grace the push to rise from the floor.

  Every eye was on her as she got to her feet, hardly knowing how she managed to stand on legs that felt like water and a head that swam with blind wonder. Hands reached out to steady her as she stood, swaying slightly beneath the weight of her amazement—but she needed no help, suddenly knowin
g without question what she needed to do.

  ‘Would you excuse me, Papa? I’m happier than I can say that you are home, but I need to see my husband.’ The thrum of her pulse in her ears was like the rush of a waterfall, powerful and terrible in its unstoppable force. Every inch of her skin tingled with new life, vigour returning where only a half hour before she had felt nothing but despair.

  I have to see him. I have to see if this is more than a dream.

  ‘I must go at once.’

  She made for the door, placing one foot in front of the other as though in a trance. All around her were stunned faces, delighted and amazed in turn, but nobody spoke until Mrs Linwood checked her with a gentle hand on her arm.

  ‘But the carriage will have left for Nevin Place again by now. You’ll have to wait until Spencer sends it for you.’

  Grace looked into her mother’s earnest face, at the eyes still wet with happy tears.

  I can only hope the next time I cry is with the joy dear Mama is feeling at this moment.

  The alternative was something Grace didn’t dare consider as she allowed the smile she had been holding back to unfurl across her cheeks with its full strength.

  ‘I’ll walk. It’s only a mile or so and I would walk ten times that if it meant reaching Spencer as soon as may be.’

  Mrs Linwood’s brows rose in vivid surprise, but she gestured towards the window where a thousand droplets skated down the cold glass.

  ‘But it’s pouring with rain! You can’t possibly walk in that.’

  Grace laughed. As if that made a difference now, with all that was at stake. ‘Then I’ll run! I must see Spencer and it must be at once. I’ve already wasted enough time on things that don’t matter. Let me go to attend to something that does!’

  Scandalised gasps escaped from more than one sister and even Mr Linwood looked a little uncomfortable at the new abandon shown by his eldest daughter. Mrs Linwood blinked rapidly, concern clouding her open face, but the smile never left Grace’s lips as the delightful whisper of something she had never felt before cheered her on. She had a purpose, now: determination to reach her husband and tell him in no uncertain terms how he had won her heart. Nothing would stop her and the sudden blissful freedom that coursed through her veins made her blood sing in harmony with her racing thoughts.

  ‘But, Grace, consider. Running about in the rain? What will people think?’

  It was the influence of the man she wanted nothing more than to run to that gave Grace her answer. She looked down at her mother, seeing the worry and love in her eyes and appreciating both beyond measure—but no longer willing to live by the rules she had been taught, with the best of intentions, to obey.

  ‘You consider, Mama. What people think, what people say—if they are so shallow as to judge us by such trifles surely we don’t care for their good opinions. As a wiser woman than I once said: society busybodies will always find something to talk about. We shouldn’t care three straws—and that’s my final word!’

  * * *

  Spencer bent his head against the rain lashing into his face and kept walking, shouldering past the people he met with barely a thought. His mind was too full to allow anything else to enter it, fixed on imagining the scenario that might be unfolding even now in a blue-papered parlour less than a mile away. If he was growing steadily wetter it hardly mattered—only Grace’s reaction to his surprising success was important and whether she might slowly be realising there could be another man worth taking into her heart. Even if he hadn’t been trying to prove his worth Spencer would still have intervened for Mr Linwood, of course—but could there be a chance his doing so might have shown Grace she had more than one path to happiness after all?

  I’ve done all I can now. The rest is up to her.

  It was an uncomfortable thought and one he tried not to dwell on as he pulled his hat down on to his head more firmly and felt how sodden the brim had become. Getting down from the carriage and allowing his father-in-law to proceed alone had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now Spencer grew closer to Nevin Place he reflected how sweet it would have been to see Grace’s beloved face light up at the first sight of her papa. Joy brought such animation to her features, enhancing the loveliness he had come to admire so much and chasing away any suggestion she might not be the most beautiful woman in the world. How she had managed to eventually overcome his defences Spencer would never know, but there was no denying she had conquered him so completely, and now all he could do was wait with his heart in his mouth for her to make his life complete—or crush his hopes within one perfect fist.

  If Henry Earls still reigned supreme in her affections even after Spencer had spent the better part of a week visiting dubious tavern after dubious tavern, tracking his prey to the two addresses provided by Harwell, then he would have to accept it. It would be more painful than he could imagine to see how his wife pined for another, doubtless wishing for a fair-haired head on her pillow in place of Spencer’s dark one; there was still the very real chance he had lost, that any fondness for him he thought Grace might have developed paled into insignificance compared to the man she could not have. If that was the case his misery would be fathomless, another agonising loss to add to his list of trials...

  But you might be getting ahead of yourself.

  He tried to suppress his darkening mood, although despair attempted to creep beneath the shutters around his dreams to snuff them out between cruel fingers.

  While there’s still a chance you shouldn’t abandon all hope. Grace has never let you down—you should have more faith.

  The imposing frontage of Nevin Place hove into view through the murk and Spencer felt his pulse skip as he remembered the last time he had approached from that direction during such bad weather. On that occasion Grace had barely seemed to want to touch him, steeling herself against the feel of his hand at her elbow even as she hurried along beside him with her quick, quiet step.

  I had no idea then how much my life would change from that day on. If nothing else, I have Grace to thank for saving me from the wreck I could so easily have become.

  The memory of her standing so sad and alone on the windswept Cobb overcame him again, so powerful it was suddenly difficult for Spencer to breathe. She’d looked so fragile, so in need of a friend—he would never regret stopping to help her, even if that decision led to a lifetime of unrequited love from which he knew there would never be any escape.

  With the rain beneath his boots and a stiff breeze keening in his ear, it took a moment for Spencer to hear the sounds coming from behind him, a combination of pattering feet and laboured breathing, but it was only the alarmed glance of a man walking towards him on the flooded pavement that made Spencer turn.

  Grace’s hair tumbled about her shoulders, great swathes of curls springing free from their pins to surround her with a halo of wet gold. Her cheeks were ruddy and her lips parted on snatched breaths, coming hard like a horse galloping flat out. With her head bare and her eyes shining with some unnamed emotion she looked like a wild creature, an untamed changeling left in place of the prim and proper Grace that Spencer had come to love—but this strange woman was just as lovely and he found he had no words as they stood in the pouring rain and stared at each other as though fixed to the spot by some mysterious force.

  More than one passer-by looked Grace over with disapproval, some bordering on scorn at her dishevelled appearance so at odds with the usual decorum of a well-dressed young woman. Spencer thought he heard a few muttered words, some low murmurs of censure from the elegant people who stepped round them with lips thinned at Grace’s heaving chest and skirts held up away from her muddy boots, although everything else in the world was a vague blur compared to the vivid picture of his wife’s upturned face.

  She was the one to break the silence, bridging the gap between them with words he only dimly heard drop from her pretty lips.

 
‘You freed Papa.’ Her eyes were wide with innocent wonder, glittering with happiness that touched Spencer’s soul even as rain flecked her face and darkened the flax of her hair. ‘I’ve never seen my mother and sisters more shocked than the moment he walked through the door—thank you, truly, from the very bottom of my heart.’

  Spencer nodded distractedly, trying to listen above the furious pounding of his heart as he watched her lace her fingers together as though suddenly ill at ease. She wore no gloves, he noticed belatedly—had she actually run from her parents’ house all the way across town, not even stopping to catch up a pair or even a bonnet? The idea gave him courage, lighting the taper of his hopes to begin to smoulder and wish they could burst into leaping flames.

  ‘And you? Were you surprised to see him likewise?’

  ‘More than you’ll ever know. It was the most wonderful thing to speak with him again, to hear all he had to say...’

  Grace’s voice tailed off and she swallowed hard as if the sentence stuck in her throat. When she managed to continue it was in a voice tight with strain, carefully level but thrumming with repressed emotion that made Spencer’s spirits fly upwards towards the stormy sky.

  ‘There was one thing in particular my father told me that I wanted to speak with you about right away. He said you’d got down from the carriage to walk home so I came after you as quickly as I could.’

  A smile tried to tug at Spencer’s lips, but he held it in check with great effort. Surely Grace would not have come hurrying after him in this growing storm without a good reason? It was so unlike her to appear so ruffled, cheeks still flushed and her hair more abandoned than he had ever seen it before—aside from the morning he had woken beside her on his study floor and felt the tangled threads of his life finally knit together beneath her skilful fingers.

  ‘It must have been something important to send you running without even a bonnet in this weather. You look quite fierce!’

  It was true: she did look like a new woman, filled with confidence that took his breath away. Her back was straight and her head held high, and she met his eye without shrinking from the warmth she must have seen in the set of his helplessly admiring expression.