‘You have presided over my dinner table and served him tea in the drawing room after,’ retorted Sir Benjamin. ‘Hardly effusive be ha vi our, my love. I under stand from Rooney that you are gone from the house before break fast every day and do not return until late in the afternoon. Are there suddenly so many distressed families in Makerham that require your at ten dance?’
‘The summer has brought on a deal of sickness and ague, sir.’
‘Then you must send Martha with a basket of food, child. I will not have you neglect our guest.’
Eve cast down her eyes. ‘Yes Grandpapa.’ She stole a glance at Sir Benjamin and saw he was frowning at her. She put out her hands. ‘Oh, sir, pray do not be angry with me. It is such a novelty to have any man save yourself in the house and it is taking me a little time to grow accustomed.’
She might have added that she found her grandfather’s guest far too attractive for her comfort, but decided against it.
‘Well I consider four days is long enough for you to grow accustomed, as you put it. I don’t say that the captain isn’t excellent company, but it’s not me that he has come here to see. If you continue to absent yourself, he will think you do not like him.’
‘It is not that, Grandpapa—’
‘My dear child, I know this is very sudden for you. When I took you to Tunbridge Wells a few years ago I had hoped that you might form an alliance, but none of the gentlemen took your fancy, and you could not be persuaded to stay with your friends in London—’
‘I could not leave you, Grandpapa,’ she said quickly. ‘You were ill and I wanted to look after you.’
He patted her hands. ‘Your heart is too kind, Eve my love, but I should have made you go; imprisoned here with me, you have no opportunity to meet eligible gentle men.’
‘But I have not been unhappy, sir.’
‘That is not the point, Evelina,’ Sir Benjamin leaned forwards, saying urgently, ‘I am growing weaker, my love. When I am gone there will be no one to protect you. Your cousin inherits Makerham, there is nothing to be done about that, but I do not like him. I have seen the way he looks at you when he is here. I would not have you left to his care.’
She shivered at the thought. ‘You are right, Grandpapa, I do not think I should like that.’
‘So you will consider Captain Wylder’s suit?’
‘Yes, Grandpapa. If he should offer for me, I will consider his suit.’ Eve smiled. She had made up her mind that she would not relax her guard until she had received word from London about Captain Wylder. Now, with her friend Maria’s letter nestling in her pocket, she had decided upon a course of action. ‘I am sorry if I have not been as attentive to our guest as you would like, Grandpapa. I promise you I am now quite ready to entertain Captain Wylder. In fact,’ she added with a twinkle, ‘I will start this very day!’
Nick looked up from the letter he was reading as Richard Granby came into the room.
‘Bad news, Captain?’
Nick shook his head.
‘No news at all,’ he said. ‘Our quarry has gone to ground.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Granby hesitated and then said delicately, ‘And, if I might enquire, how are your plans progressing with the young lady?’
Nick tossed the letter aside. ‘They are not,’ he said shortly. ‘I am wondering if we should weigh anchor and try another tack. The admiralty wants answers and there are other leads to follow…’ his lips twitched ‘…though none so attractive.’
A knock at the door interrupted them. Nick hurriedly took up his letter and put it away while Granby answered the door. He heard a murmur of voices and turned to see his valet approaching, a folded paper in his hand.
‘A note for you, Captain.’
‘Well.’ A slow grin appeared as he read the missive. ‘Perhaps all is not lost. Miss Shawcross wants to see me. In the garden.’
Nick strode along the gravelled paths until he reached the yew walk. At the far end was a small clearing where a statue of Pan nestled against the surrounding hedge. On either side white-painted benches had been placed for those who wished to rest for a while in this sheltered retreat. Evelina was sitting on one of the benches, reading a letter. As Nick approached she looked up and gave a slight smile. He bowed.
‘You wished to talk to me, Miss Shawcross?’
She gestured towards the opposite bench and Nick sat down.
‘I did indeed, sir.’ Her soft brown eyes rested upon him. ‘You said at our very first meeting that you came here to marry me. Is that truly your intention?’
‘A direct attack,’ he said approvingly. ‘I like that.’
‘You have not answered my question, Captain.’
‘Then, yes. It is indeed my intention, Misss Shawcross.’
Her gaze did not falter. ‘Why?’
Nick’s brows rose. This was blunt indeed. ‘It is time I settled down. My family has been nagging me to do so ever since I came home from sea.’
‘But you know nothing about me.’
He smiled at her. ‘You are beautiful, witty, accomplished—and Sir Benjamin assures me you are an excellent house keeper. Is that not enough?’
She dropped her gaze, a delicate flush mantling her cheek. ‘But you knew nothing about me when you sought out my sheltered at Tunbridge Wells.’
She raised her eyes again and Nick hesitated. How much should he tell her?
‘I did go to Tunbridge in search of Sir Benjamin,’ he admitted. ‘I planned merely to renew my family’s acquaintance with him. It soon became clear to me that Sir Benjamin was looking for a husband for you.’ A smile tugged at his lips. ‘He seemed to think I might be a suitable candidate.’
‘Do you mean that he suggested it?’ She looked shocked. ‘And you agreed to…to…’
He spread his hands, saying apologetically, ‘This seemed an opportunity not to be missed. I am glad now that I came.’
For a moment she looked delightfully flustered, but she soon recovered. ‘Very well, sir.’ She settled herself more com fort ably on the bench and glanced at the papers in her hand. ‘Grandpapa may consider you suitable, but you have yet to convince me! I would like to ask you a few questions.’
Nick leaned back and crossed one booted leg over the other. ‘I am at your disposal, ma’am.’
‘We have already established that you are a sailor, and, one cannot deny it, a brave one.’
‘Thank you,’ he said meekly.
‘But you have some thing of a reputation in town, Captain.’ She stared down at the letter. ‘Last year your name was linked with a Mrs Stringham.’
He blinked. The chit had been checking up on him!
‘We were…friends for a few months, yes.’
‘I under stand she is a lady with a somewhat tarnished reputation.’ She shrugged. ‘No doubt much more interesting for you than an ingénue.’
He choked, but she did not seem to notice and was again peering at her list.
‘Then there was Lady Alton.’
‘What of her?’ he asked warily.
‘She was your mistress, was she not? You look shocked, Captain Wylder. I thought you liked the direct attack.’
Nick sat up. By heaven, the wench was teasing him! ‘May I ask how you came by this information, Miss Shawcross?’
She held the letter to her breast. ‘You may ask, but I shall not divulge my sources.’
He leaned forward. ‘And what else do your…sources…say of me?’
She studied the sheets of paper again. ‘Well, there was Miss Brierley from Rochester, many people thought you might offer for her.’
‘What, because I took her driving in the park?’
‘Apparently so,’ she murmured, not raising her eyes from her letter. ‘And Dorothy Chate, the actress, not to mention the opera dancers—’
‘I would much rather we did not mention the opera dancers!’
She regarded him sternly. ‘Since quitting the navy, your life seems to have been one of dissipation, sir.’
> He tried to look remorseful. ‘Alas, I am very much in need of a wife to keep me in order.’
‘I am not at all sure that anyone could keep you in order, Captain Wylder. Are you saying that if we were to marry you would give up your dissolute ways?’
‘I would try.’
He gave her a soulful look and noted with satisfaction the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She was having difficulty keeping her countenance.
‘I am not at all sure that I believe you.’
‘I fear I am in need of an occupation.’
She turned the page. ‘My correspondent tells me that you have an occupation.’
Nick froze. Now how the devil did she know that? ‘Or you should have one; you should be managing your pro per ties in the north, Captain Wylder, not wasting your time in idle pursuits.’
He breathed again. ‘I would not call looking for a wife an idle pursuit.’
‘Captain Wylder,’ she said seriously, ‘I am not at all sure I am the wife for you.’
‘Miss Shawcross, the more I know of you the more I am convinced that you are the perfect wife for me!’
‘But I am not at all worldly. What I mean is…’ She blushed again, looking so adorable that he wanted to cross the space between them and take her in his arms. ‘What would happen when you grew tired of me?’ When he did not respond she said quietly, ‘I am not quite as naïve as you might think, Captain. I know my parents’ marriage was unusual; they were so much in love they did everything together, as equals.’ She gave a sad little smile. ‘They even died together. I do not expect that, but…’
Nick half-rose from his seat, then sank back down again. He knew that any attempt to comfort her was more likely to frighten her away. ‘But what, Miss Shawcross?’
The colour flared in her cheeks, but she was determined on her course. Her words were almost in audible. ‘I w-would not want to share you with a mistress.’
Nick took a deep breath. By heaven, he admired her bravery. Now he must honour it with an honest reply. ‘Miss Shawcross, whatever else you may have heard about me, pray believe that I am a gentleman. If we were to marry, I give you my word you would always be treated with respect, and I would do my best to make you happy. I can promise you that I have no mistress hidden away.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘Now what is that look, do you not believe me?’
She glared at him. ‘I do not think you under stand, sir.’
‘Then perhaps you can explain.’
He sat back, as she threw him another scorching look. He felt more sure of his ground when she was angry with him.
‘I have always expected Grandpapa to arrange my marriage for me, but I thought it would be a local gentle man. Someone…’
‘Someone safe and staid and boring,’ he put in helpfully.
‘Well…yes.’
He spread his hands. ‘Even the most upright country gentlemen take mistresses, you know.’
‘But they are less likely to have women falling at their feet,’ she retorted. She brandished her letter. ‘My correspondent tells me the ladies in town find you fatally attractive.’
‘Does she indeed?’
‘How do you know it is a woman?’
‘I have an instinct for these things. Does your correspondent find me fatally attractive, too?’
‘Captain Wylder I do not think you are taking this seriously.’
‘But I am! And your sheltered has already spoken to me of this.’
‘He—he has?’
‘Yes.’ Her consternation made him smile. ‘It is a question that would occur to any loving guardian. I have already assured him that, if I take a wife, she will have nothing to fear on that score.’ He paused. ‘Sir Benjamin approves of me, you know. Will you not at least consider my suit?’
She held his eyes for a moment, then folded her papers and put them into her reticule. ‘Yes, Captain Wylder, I will consider it,’ she said quietly. ‘But it is not a decision to be taken lightly.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Thank you for being so frank with me, Captain.’
As she rose he jumped up and reached for her hand, carrying her fingers to his lips.
‘I hope we under stand one another now, Miss Shawcross.’
‘I am not sure.’ She regarded him with a tiny crease between her brows. ‘I still do not under stand why you should want to marry me, but we will let that pass, for now.’ She withdrew her fingers and, with a slight, regal nod of her head, she turned and walked away from him.
Eve returned to her room, her mind going over and over her inter view with Captain Wylder. He had not denied any of the liaisons Maria Gryfford had detailed in her letter, but he had looked wary. Were there even more lovers that she did not know of? Eve realised she did not care how many lovers he might have had in the past; only the present and the future concerned her. A line from Lady Gryfford’s letter flitted through her mind; If the dashing Captain Wyldfire has made you an offer, then snap him up immediately, my dearest Eve. We are all mad for him! But why should he want to marry her? He did not look like the sort of man who would marry merely to please his family. But then, she had been brought up to believe she would marry to please her sheltered. Were they so very different? She put her arms around herself. It was a big decision, to leave the safety of the only home she had ever known and put herself under the protection of Nick Wylder. After all, what did she know of him? Did she trust him?
‘Yes,’ she said aloud. ‘Yes, I do. Perhaps I should not, but I do.’
‘Your pardon, Miss Eve, did you say some thing?’
Martha came bustling into the room.
‘What? Oh, no, no. I was merely talking to myself. Is it time to dress for dinner already? I think I will wear my blue gown again tonight, Martha.’
‘Ah, you want to look your best for the captain, is that it?’
‘Do not be so impertinent!’
Eve frowned at her hand maiden, but Martha had been part of her house hold since Eve had been a baby and was not so easily snubbed.
‘Well, what else is one to think, when you and he have been in the garden together this afternoon.’
‘Who told you that?’
Martha shrugged. ‘Mr Granby mentioned it…’
‘How dare you gossip about me!’
‘Lord love you, Miss Eve, we wasn’t gossiping. Mr Granby just happened to mention it in passing. Heavens, miss, how you do take one up. And what does it matter anyway, since you are going to wed him—’
‘Martha! Who says so?’
The maid stared at her. ‘Well, is it not so?’
‘No. Yes—that is…’ She dropped down on the bed, crying, ‘Oh, Martha I do not know what to do!’
‘Don’t you want to marry the captain?’
Eve spread her hands. ‘I must marry someone.’
‘And the captain is very handsome, miss.’
Eve felt herself blushing. ‘Yes he is. Very handsome.’
And exciting, and witty: Eve had never felt so attracted to any man before. Not that she had much experience, one short visit to Tunbridge Wells being the nearest she had ever been to entering society, but she had read lots of books. She knew exactly what a hero should be like, and although the gentlemen she had met at Tunbridge had all fallen well short of her expectations, she was forced to admit that Nick Wylder was the embodiment of her secret dreams. The thought was a little frightening.
‘Well, if you’ll be guided by me, you will listen to Sir Benjamin and do as he bids you, miss,’ Martha advised her. ‘He has never let you down yet.’
‘I know, Martha, but this is…marriage.’ She whispered the word, suddenly nervous of it and the thoughts it conjured.
‘Lord love you, that is just the time to be advised by your grand papa,’ said Martha cheer fully. ‘If Sir Benjamin thinks the captain is the right man for you, then so it is, and a sight better catch than your cousin Bernard,’ she added, suddenly serious. ‘And that’s who you’ll end up with if the master die
s and leaves you alone. I’ve seen ’im sniffing round you when he’s been here on a visit.’
‘Stop it, Martha.’ Eve shuddered. ‘Besides, I have heard that my cousin is hanging out for a rich wife.’
‘Aye, well, maybe he is,’ opined Martha darkly. ‘But that won’t stop him trying to get you between the sheets, with or without a wedding ring!’
With this dire warning she went off to fetch Eve’s gown, leaving her mistress to stare after her.
By the time she went down to dinner Eve was no closer to making a decision, but she was too well-bred to let her inner turmoil show and she greeted Sir Benjamin and the captain with her usual calm smile. Despite her assured performance in the garden that afternoon she was a little nervous of meeting Nick again, but his polite, gentle friendliness soon put her at her ease. However, Sir Benjamin’s suggestion after dinner that the young people should take a stroll in the garden while it was still light threw her into a panic.
‘An excellent idea,’ murmured Nick, his eyes glinting, but not unkindly. ‘Come, Miss Shawcross, indulge me in a little walk.’ He leaned closer and murmured. ‘It need be nothing more, I promise you.’
Feeling the hot blood in her cheeks, she hurried away to fetch her wrap and returned to find only Nick waiting for her in the hall.
‘Sir Benjamin has retired,’ he informed her as she came down the stairs towards him. ‘He asked that you go up to see him when we come back in.’ He held out his arm to her. ‘Shall we walk? You need not worry,’ he added, seeing her hesitation. ‘We shall talk of the most unexceptional subjects, if you like.’ His under standing calmed her jangled nerves. She put her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the house.
At first they discussed the weather, then books and music, but when they had strolled past the parterre and into the shrubbery, Nick said suddenly, ‘I think, Miss Shawcross, that I owe you an apology.’ She glanced up at him and he continued, ‘It seems Sir Benjamin truly did not prepare you for my visit.’
She flushed. ‘This is not the unexceptional topic you promised me, Captain.’
‘I know, but you are very reserved with me tonight. You are trying to make up your mind whether or not to marry me, is that not so?’
Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife Page 3
