by Georgie Lee
Instead of sitting, he swung his leg over the horse and dropped to the ground. ‘You’re a very direct young lady.’
‘And quite serious.’ She crossed her arms over her chest.
‘I promise to be pleasant and cheerful.’ He placed his hand on his heart, bowing deferentially, then snapping up into a formal military stance. ‘Permission to come aboard.’
The stories she’d heard about him demanded a refusal, but they also fuelled her curiosity. If nothing else, here was her chance to discover the truth behind Uncle George’s tales. Emily would faint if she discovered them alone, but if the captain kept this meeting a secret, then what was the harm in conversing? ‘Granted. Tie Hector to the post.’ She pointed at the ruins of an old fence near the keep’s entrance.
He wrapped the horse’s reins around the mouldering wood, then made his way inside, taking the stairs two at a time before stepping out on to the rampart. Julia admired the steady, sure way he crossed the ledge.
‘I’m surprised to find you here,’ he remarked.
‘I often come here to be alone.’
‘Then I apologise for intruding on your solitude.’
‘It does not matter.’ Julia leaned against the short wall, admiring the view and struggling to appear indifferent despite the strange nervousness creeping through her. The captain leaned next to her, resting his elbows on the stones, the nearness of him making her jittery excitement worse.
‘This is an impressive place.’ His eyes scanned the landscape and for the first time she noticed the small lines about his mouth.
‘Indeed.’ She moved closer into his circle of warmth and for a brief moment considered slipping into the crook of his body, out of the wind and damp air.
‘Are all Uncle George’s stories true?’ she asked, eager to break the awkward silence and distract herself from Captain Covington’s warm body.
‘What do you know?’
‘I know about his liaison with the plantation owner’s wife, the rum running and your dalliance with the governor’s sister.’
Captain Covington threw back his head and laughed. ‘Yes, it’s all true and then some, for I doubt he told you everything.’
‘He told me enough. You have quite a reputation, Captain.’
‘Me? No, I take no responsibility. It was all George’s doing.’
‘Including the governor’s sister?’
The corners of his lips pulled up. ‘I assure you, the story was exaggerated.’
‘Why didn’t you marry her?’
He sobered, but not enough to remove the wicked smile. ‘We were not suited for marriage. Nor was the lady inclined. It seemed she’d had enough of husbands and very much liked her freedom.’
For a moment Julia envied the woman, especially her intimacy with the captain. What she wouldn’t give to have such control over her life and enjoy someone like him without censure. ‘What of your other adventures with Uncle George?’ she asked, trying to distract her wandering mind.
‘Some were true. I leave it to you to discover which ones.’
‘Then you admit you went along.’
‘Only to keep a very good friend out of trouble.’
‘And to make a bit of profit.’
‘In that regard I am guilty.’
‘I envy your grand adventures.’
‘Do not envy them. They weren’t all grand.’ He straightened, rubbing his left shoulder, a scowl darkening his features.
A gust of wind hit the keep, pulling a strand of Julia’s hair loose. Tucking it behind her ear, she noticed the thickening clouds moving faster across the sky. It was time to ride back, but she wasn’t ready to leave. Emily would scold her if they got caught in the rain, but she no longer cared. What did any of it matter—propriety, etiquette—if one were always confined to this small corner of the world? Julia sighed and the captain turned a curious eye on her.
‘Something troubles you?’
She shook her head, wondering how much to confide in him. In many ways he reminded her of Uncle George or Paul, of someone who would listen without judgement. But for all his resemblances, he was still a stranger. ‘I wish I could be more like Annette,’ she admitted, throwing convention to the wind.
‘Do not envy her. She has nothing you don’t possess.’
‘Except perfect manners.’
‘Your manners are not so very imperfect.’
‘But they’re not polished enough for my brother or Emily or most of the countryside.’ She picked a small stone off the ledge and hurled it over the edge. It arched in the air before dropping to the grass with a soft thud. ‘I don’t shun propriety, Captain. I do my best to follow Emily’s suggestions, only—’
‘—they’re always at odds with your nature.’
Yes, he was very much like Paul and Uncle George. ‘It was different when Father was alive. He didn’t mind if I wore the wrong dress or went riding alone in the mornings.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She’s quite content with her roses and Charlemagne. She loves me, but doesn’t fret like Charles and Emily. They don’t realise how much I try to behave. They think I’m like Paul and being contrary for the sake of being contrary. Charles believes because it’s so easy for him to be proper that it’s easy for everyone. He’s turned into a dreadful, puritan bore.’
‘I wouldn’t call Charles a puritan,’ the captain snorted.
‘What do you mean?’ What did he know about Charles that she didn’t?
‘Nothing. I was only thinking of your brother Paul. I’m sorry if I confused the two.’
‘Oh, yes, well, Paul certainly doesn’t follow convention. But he’s a man and allowed to do as he pleases.’ She turned back to the view, her world suddenly feeling small. ‘Paul is out there having adventures and Charles is in London, making great speeches and deciding my future.’
‘No one decides your future unless you let them.’
‘Those are the words of a man who can make his own choices and live as he pleases.’ She reached back, tucking the waving strand of hair into the loose bun.
‘Men don’t always live as they please. Sometimes they live as they must,’ he responded with some resignation.
‘Even then you have choices,’ she encouraged, willing him to be strong. If a man like him gave in to fate, what chance did she have?
He moved to object before his lips spread into a smile. ‘You don’t strike me as a young lady resigned to someone else deciding her future.’
She picked at the stone wall. ‘Perhaps, but for the moment, here I am.’
* * *
James watched her work loose a pebble, her face bereft of a smile. No, she was not a woman to give up, no matter what she might say. She would continue to strive, to struggle, to fight for what she wanted. ‘Where would you be if you could be somewhere else?’
‘India. Paul gave me a book about it once. It seems so magical. Have you been to India?’
‘Once, a long time ago.’
‘Was it magical?’
He turned to her, admiring the excitement of youth and innocence reflected in her eyes. While he pined for what he’d lost, she waited to hear about what she might never experience. Suddenly his sadness seemed self-indulgent, giving him a new appreciation for his past. ‘Yes, it was. Blazing white palaces crowded with men and women in dazzling colours. The air so thick with curry and moisture, you feel as though you could slice it with a sword.’
‘Paul brought me curry powder once. I gave it to cook and she didn’t know what to do with it. She put it in the chicken and the house reeked of it for days. It’s like nothing I’ve smelled or tasted before. Would you go there again?’
He watched a pair of deer race through the high grass before disappearing into a thick clump of trees. Would he go back? Th
ere was nothing to stop him. He could go there and a hundred other places he longed to see. He thought of Paris, Vienna and Venice and for a moment pictured himself walking through the ancient city, Miss Howard by his side. The image startled him though it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant idea. ‘Yes, I would.’
‘I wish I could go.’ The wind pulled a small curl across her cheek.
‘Perhaps some day you will.’ He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, allowing his fingers to linger at the nape of her neck. She didn’t pull away. Instead her eyes held his with nervous anticipation. He stepped closer and her head tilted up invitingly. He felt her rapid pulse through the warm skin beneath his fingertips and was close to claiming her soft, parted lips when a loud clap of thunder broke overhead.
A sudden gust of wind pungent with rain swept past them, ruffling the skirt of her habit.
She stepped away from him, an awkward blush colouring her cheeks. ‘We’d better get back before it rains.’
He didn’t want to leave, but he couldn’t object. Staying alone together here was dangerous and he possessed no desire to expose her to vicious gossip or her sister-in-law’s criticism. To compromise her in such a way would only confirm Julia’s previous suspicions about him and he very much wanted her good opinion.
* * *
Julia followed the captain down the stone steps, watching his broad shoulders lead the way through the tower’s deep shadows. He’d almost kissed her. She’d almost allowed him to kiss her. She stopped in the middle of the staircase, fear gripping her. How could she have been so weak? It was unlike her to lose her head over a gentleman, especially one with questionable intentions.
At the bottom he hopped off the last step, turning to help her down. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, not at all.’ She hurried down the stairs, taking his offered hand and allowing him to help her. She delighted once again in the feel of it, the strength and warmth. Their eyes met as a bolt of lightning cracked overhead followed by a deep roll of thunder.
‘We’d better hurry.’ He pulled her towards the horses.
Julia grabbed Manfred’s reins and led him next to the large stone. She saw the captain’s surprise when she threw her leg over Manfred’s back, revealing the trousers in the riding habit.
‘Very clever.’
‘Please don’t tell Emily.’
‘Your secret is safe with me.’ He winked, then swung into the saddle, pain flashing across his face before he settled his feet in the stirrups.
She was about to ask if he felt well when another heavy blast of wind hit them, flattening the tall grass and scattering bits of earth and leaves.
‘Do you think we can outrun the storm?’ he called over the gust.
‘I think we should try.’ Digging her heels into Manfred’s flanks, she shot off down the hill. In seconds the captain was next to her, leaning over Hector’s neck, spurring him on. Remembering the way he’d ridden this morning, she pushed them hard, guiding them around trees and boulders and over the crest of hills. She avoided the hedges, not knowing the captain’s capacity for jumping, but she couldn’t resist leaping the small gully. Though Hector was no match for Manfred, the captain never let up or veered off course. He urged the stallion up and over the rushing water, meeting her on the other side, his wide smile revealing his excitement. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his exuberant face and she kicked Manfred back into a gallop. The captain followed, his body matching Hector’s gait with satyr-like fluidity.
The horses were fast, but the storm moved faster. She could have ridden for ever with the captain, but the icy rain fell hard, pouring down her hair and soaking her back. With visibility declining, she guided them on to a wide country lane. Racing around a bend in the road, the horse’s hooves kicked up mud from the deep puddles, the rain matting their manes against their necks. The captain’s speed did not waver as he kept pace with her. Water dripped from his chin and his keen eyes watched the road, at intervals meeting hers with an intensity as highly charged as the lightning.
The glowing windows of Knollwood came into view through the deluge and the captain followed Julia down away from the house to the stables. She pulled Manfred to a halt in the yard, the captain drawing Hector up alongside them. She breathed hard, every inch of her wet, her fingers aching with cold, but she didn’t care. The exhilarating ride warmed her, as did the captain’s blazing eyes. Large drops of water dripped off the wet hair matted against his forehead, sliding down his cheeks, tracing the fine sinew of his neck before disappearing beneath his collar. His charging pulse beat against the exposed skin, echoing the steady rhythm in her chest. She wrapped the reins around her fingers as he leaned hard on one hand, tilting towards her and she leaned closer, noticing the small beads of water sticking to his eyelashes. He was exactly as she’d imagined him in her dream about the monsoon, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.
The wind cut a sharp line through them and Julia shivered.
‘We’d better get inside,’ the captain yelled over the pounding rain. Julia nodded, water running into her eyes as she walked Manfred into the warmth of the stable.
‘I’m glad to see you back. I was getting worried.’ John rushed to take Manfred’s reins and help her down.
‘I’ll only be a moment,’ she called to the captain, then slipped into the small room. Stripping off her soaked riding habit, she hung it on a hook, knowing John’s wife would see to its cleaning like she always did. She wrung out the bottom of her chemise then pulled the dry habit over her damp stays and hurried out of the room to where Captain Covington waited by the open stable door. Water dripped from his coat, pooling on the hard-packed dirt.
‘Should we wait it out?’ he asked, pushing the wet hair off his face. The rain fell in thick sheets on the paddock with no sign of letting up.
‘No. Wet or dry, I’m sure to receive a tongue lashing for this.’
‘Then we’d better hurry. The sooner it begins the sooner it may end. After you.’
She ran past him into the downpour and in two large strides he was next to her. They rushed up the small hill, but she stumbled, her boot sticking in the mud. He grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her free and into the grove of trees. Lightning split the sky and the air crackled with electricity, the deep roll of thunder vibrating in Julia’s chest.
‘Perhaps we should go back to the stable until it passes,’ the captain suggested, pulling her closer, his hand protectively on her arm.
Julia gauged the distance between the house and the stable, seeing no safe, clear path in either direction. ‘No, we’re halfway there. We might as well keep going.’
‘Come along, then. I have no desire to be struck by lightning.’ He slipped his hand in hers and pulled her out of the trees. She hung on tight, his strength soothing some of her fear during their mad dash over the gravel path and up the back portico.
Another lightning bolt cracked overhead as the captain closed the French door behind them. He followed Julia laughing and dripping into the hall at the front of the house, wet footprints trailing them across the stone floor.
‘Maybe we should have stayed in the stable.’ Julia smiled, shaking the water off her skirt.
‘No. I enjoyed our adventure, even if I won’t dry out for a week,’ he laughed, wiping his hands on his soaked trousers.
‘Julia, Captain Covington.’ Emily’s voice echoed off the walls. Julia whirled around to see her standing at the top of the stairs, her delicate face red and her pale eyes dark. ‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘We were caught in the rain.’ Julia shifted from foot to foot, her stockings squishing in her half-boots.
‘Forgive me, Mrs Howard. It was my fault. I allowed Miss Howard to dally on our ride and the storm came upon us faster than we anticipated.’
‘And was the groom with you? No, he wasn’t because
John came to the house looking for Julia after it started to rain,’ Emily answered before he could. ‘He was worried about her—we all were.’
Emily flew down the stairs, her stern face fixed on the captain. ‘Such behaviour from Julia does not surprise me. She is young and not well versed in the ways of the world, but not from you, Captain. If you wish to remain in my house, I insist you behave like a gentleman.’
‘My apologies, Mrs Howard. It was not my intention to offend you or place your sister-in-law’s reputation at risk.’
‘I certainly hope not. Now come along, Julia.’
Julia resisted the urge to unleash a torrent of words as Emily hustled her up the stairs and into her room. Inside, her mother sat on the small sofa by the window, petting Charlemagne, a slight smile raising the corners of her mouth.
‘How dare you speak to the captain like that, or me? How dare you make such accusations?’ Julia said sharply.
‘Don’t you see how compromising such behaviour is? To be out alone with a man who knows where doing who knows what.’
‘Out riding and doing nothing. Why do you and Charles always believe the worst of me? What have I done to make you think I might do anything compromising?’
Emily twisted her hands in front of her, some of her anger fading. ‘Even a young woman of solid character may slip and cause herself a great deal of grief.’ From the adjoining dressing room, baby Thomas let out a wail, nearly drowning out the nurse’s soothing coos. ‘Besides, your mother was worried about you.’
Her mother stopped petting Charlemagne, shocked to find herself pulled into the conversation. ‘No, my dear, I was not worried for this is not the first time you’ve been caught out in the rain.’
Emily stared at her mother-in-law in frustration. ‘She was alone with a gentleman.’
Mother rose, tucking Charlemagne under her arm. ‘As I said, I was not concerned.’ She left, closing the door behind her.
‘See, it is only your own fear playing on you.’
Emily placed her hands on Julia’s shoulders, her face softer than before. ‘I am only trying to help. Others will speak badly of you if they witness such behaviour.’
