Captain's Lady

by Jamaila Brinkley

  Jack felt his unexpected jealousy fade for the most part, although he still found himself plotting ways to carry Kate off mid-conversation with their steward for some extra practice on their private project—providing a new Rothwell heir. It was his duty, after all.

  Beyond a spirited round of negotiation about the man’s salary which both of them enjoyed immensely, Jack did his best to have very little to do with Waters’ employment. If he showed too much interest, he was certain he’d be hauled immediately into a pig barn to witness something disgusting. He spent most of the next few days catching up on his own accounts, corresponding with his first mate, and plotting the Delphine’s next voyage. When Kate was ready to leave Waters fully in charge here, he would escort her to London, set her up in whatever style she preferred, and then finally be back where he belonged: at sea.

  He did catch himself thinking occasionally of sunlit afternoons in the parlor with Kate. In his imagination, she was bent over an escritoire, making a list, of course. A dark-haired child played solemnly next to her, perhaps making its own infantile list. And where was he? Surely not leaning back in a comfortable chaise, admiring his wife and child and reading a newspaper, or catching up on his club accounts. At sea. At sea, of course. The sunlit parlor would have to do without him. And he without it. If it was his choice, though, why did his stomach clench as though his dream was being ripped away?

  ~ ~ ~

  At the end of the week, he managed to corner Kate in their shared office. Mostly hers, to be fair. Two desks now faced each other in the cozy room. Hers was covered in papers, books, and what appeared to be samples of fence latches. His was virtually bare.

  “Come here, wife.” He tugged her into the room, toward his side where there was room to stand.

  “Hmm?” She peered up at him from under her lashes, something that inevitably made him want to forget everything and work on that heir problem some more.

  “Stop that, vixen. I want to ask you your plans.”

  “Plans?”

  “For departure.”

  “Oh.” Had her expression just changed? He frowned, trying to determine if she’d actually been disappointed or if it was in his imagination.

  “Do you have any idea of when you’ll be ready?”

  She sighed. “Soon, I think. But Jack—” She looked down, twisting her fingers in her skirt. “If you’d like to go ahead . . . I know the ship must be waiting for you.”

  “It can only sit empty for so long,” he agreed. “But if you’re fixed here, I can send Henders to find cargo for a few short trips without me. He’s done it before.”

  “No, I don’t want to keep you from it,” she said. “I won’t be long here, but you could certainly go ahead.”

  “Are you sure? I was supposed to escort you . . .”

  She smirked. “I’ve been gadding about unescorted by a husband for years, you know.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call what you did gadding.”

  “I can make it to London.”

  “But—”

  She put her hands on his coat, drawing him toward her. “Jack.”

  “Hmm?” He slid his hands around her waist, enjoying the heat of her body against his.

  “I wanted to thank you.”

  “Thank me?”

  She smiled shyly. “For agreeing to marry me, and for giving me an opportunity to actually matter. You didn’t have to.”

  He stared down at her. “I—”

  “I just wanted you to know, before you go, that I really do appreciate it.” She slid a hand along his chest, leaving a trail of warmth that tingled along his skin. “I’m glad it was you Lady M found. And I’m glad to be here. I think I can really do good work with the estate. Thank you for trusting me.”

  He swallowed. He was leaving. Right? Of course he was. He needed to be aboard ship. And she was making it clear she didn’t need him here, or even in London. She was far better suited to run the Rothwell estate than he was. He’d be getting in her way. He wondered if she realized that his need for a wife had matched her own desperation for a husband. She’d wanted to save her sister from unwanted scandal; he’d wanted to save himself from an unwanted estate. And now, here they were.

  “I’ll always trust you,” he said.

  She smiled and tugged gently at his collar. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder for a moment. This goodbye was going to be memorable. He eased her back toward his empty desk, his lips traveling along her neck. Her quiet murmur of pleasure sent his hands wandering and her bottom met the desk’s surface with a thump and an unexpected crackle.

  “What was that?” Kate’s mumble was barely comprehensible, her hands moving over Jack’s chest as her clever fingers found their way under his shirt.

  Dazed as he was by her presence and what he intended to do with her on that desk in the near future, it took Jack a moment to understand what she was talking about. Then ice shot through his veins and he leapt away from her as though she were a debutante he’d been caught with at a party. “Oh, hell.”

  “What—” Kate nearly fell off the desk without his weight holding her upright. “Jack!”

  “Sorry!” He caught her, straightening her severely disheveled bodice as best he could. “I forgot about the note.”

  She scowled at him. “What note?”

  “That one.”

  Her gaze swiveled to the desk, and her eyes widened as her fingers fell away from their attempt at repairing her dress. “The, er, glowing one?”

  He winced. “It wasn’t glowing before.” The Duchess was not pleased.

  Chapter 14

  “Jack! Slow down!” Kate tugged ineffectually at her husband’s arm as he bore her down the hallway.

  “Can’t. Pack your things.”

  “I’m not ready to leave!”

  “Get ready, Kate. We’ve been summoned.”

  “Summoned!” He waved the note at her without stopping. “Give me that!” She snatched it, pulling herself out of his grip at the same time. She leaned against the wall to read while he crossed his arms impatiently.

  Please present yourself and your bride at your earliest convenience.

  “It says at your earliest convenience,” she said. “And it’s not even signed!”

  “It’s from the Duchess of Edgebourne, and I can guarantee you two things.”

  She raised her eyebrow as Jack held up his fingers to count them off.

  “One: it said something completely different when it first arrived last week. Two: our earliest convenience is right bloody now.”

  Kate felt her stomach sink. She’d been well-trained by Lady Morehouse, after all. “You ignored a note from the Duchess of Edgebourne for more than a week?” No wonder the thing had been glowing.

  Jack had the grace to appear abashed. “I forgot about it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Can’t we wait a little longer?” This country idyll had to end eventually, but it was hard to acknowledge that the time had come so dramatically.

  “You don’t ignore a summons from Edgebourne, Kate.”

  “You’re Lord Rothwell now, not some poor relation,” she pointed out.

  “I was never a poor relation,” he snapped. “And this has nothing to do with titles.”

  “Nobody ignores the Duchess?”

  “I don’t.” He paused thoughtfully. “Quite frankly, there’s only one person I know who has absolute confidence in their ability to ignore a summons from the Duchess of Edgebourne.”

  “The Duke?”

  “No, actually. A young lady who works for the Home Office. You’ll like her.” He patted her arm. “Now pack your things. Please.”

  She sighed. “Fine. But I need to talk to Brand.”

  “I’ll send
him up. I’m sure you need to make him a list or three.” He grinned at her.

  “Don’t make fun of my lists.”

  “I would never.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Once again, Kate found herself tucked into a comfortably-sprung traveling carriage. She’d left Brand and the staff with extensive lists, none of which they likely needed. The Rothwell tenants appeared exceedingly pleased with their new lord and his efficient steward. She’d added her input into some final decisions about the new fences and left them to get on with it.

  She peeked at Jack, who’d assumed his standard traveling position: settled on the opposite bench, his legs splayed wide to keep his upper body firmly wedged against the cushioned seat, eyes closed. Whether he was actually sleeping or not, she wasn’t sure. He’d mentioned he wanted to keep a magical eye on the weather. She inventoried her own feelings and was surprised to find that she didn’t really mind their abrupt departure from Rothwell after all. She was deeply curious about his family. She hadn’t known him well enough at the time of their wedding to understand how unusual it was that he’d married by special license. Now, she suspected that his actions were going to have consequences.

  Why had he been so willing to marry her without any ceremony at all? He’d said he wanted to avoid the grasping mamas on the marriage market, but that wouldn’t have prevented a wedding that his family could attend, even if it were a hasty one to accommodate her sister’s condition. She tried not to feel the icy shivers that wanted to trickle down her neck. He was the foster son of the Duke of Edgebourne. Was the Earl of Ashewell’s impoverished granddaughter beneath his touch? Had the Duchess had somebody else in mind for her precious foster son?

  Kate sighed. These were probably second thoughts she should have had, if not before she’d married him, at least before she’d settled into running his estate. Well, she wasn’t giving up Rothwell now. Marriage to Jack had given her more than stability and safety. It had given her purpose and a sense of worth she hadn’t realized she’d been craving. And the husband part of it wasn’t so bad, either. With a slow smile, she let her gaze travel along Jack’s long form. His muscles had relaxed. He was truly asleep now. She marveled at the sense of familiarity her own body felt with his. Her days had been busy repairing Rothwell’s neglected affairs, but her nights had been Jack’s, and he’d made the most of them. She wondered if they’d produced an heir yet. It was still too soon to tell. Her lips quirked as she remembered Jack’s utter unfamiliarity with the process of childbearing.

  Either way, it seemed that her fate was settled. She was Lady Rothwell, and she was going to London. She hoped the trousseau that Lady M had prepared for her was up to the task of clothing a guest of the Duke of Edgebourne.

  ~ ~ ~

  “We’re not staying at Edgebourne House?” Kate watched the elegant home of the Duke and Duchess recede from view as their carriage rolled efficiently past it.

  “Heavens, no.” Jack yawned. “Who wants to live in their family’s pocket?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Jack Boone, I am not staying aboard your ship while we are in London, even if the anchor never leaves the ground.”

  “Lady Rothwell, you wound me.”

  She sniffed. “As if you haven’t done it.”

  “For your information, your husband is the proud co-owner of a very nice townhome just up there.” He pointed down the street as the carriage turned the corner, the horses trotting smartly along past a series of homes decreasing evenly in size as they got further away from the looming ducal residence.

  “Not Rothwell House?”

  He blinked. “Is there one?”

  “Oh, Jack. You really didn’t know anything about Rothwell, did you?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “You couldn’t have even taken the time to learn about your assets?” He opened his mouth and she held up a hand. “Yes. Assets. I know. Please.”

  He grinned at her. “You’re learning, Lady Rothwell.”

  “One of my finest qualities,” she said.

  “Assets, you mean.”

  She couldn’t stop the laugh this time. “Honestly, Jack.”

  “All right. We’ll table the investigation of your assets until later.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her meaningfully. “Is there a Rothwell House?”

  She nodded. “I believe it’s leased for the season, one of the few things the previous viscount actually managed to do for the estate.” She sniffed. Her opinion of Jack’s predecessor, a distant cousin of some sort who’d been the last of the paternal line, was low to say the least. The man hadn’t even visited Cornwall during his brief tenure as Lord Rothwell, simply sent a few vague directives and ignored any questions sent to him.

  “So we needn’t worry about opening it up for ourselves.”

  “True.”

  “Then here we are.” He waved a hand toward the door as the carriage came to a stop, and Kate leaned forward to peer at her new London home. It was an elegant façade, and appeared to have been recently redone. Her eyes traveled from sparklingly clean steps to carefully scrolled stonework on the roofline, all the uniformly pale color of a home that hadn’t seen much in the way of weathering.

  “Is it new?”

  “Newish. We bought it about four years ago.”

  “We?”

  “Thomas, Duncan, and I. We felt a rather pressing need to set up a bachelor abode away from the Duke and Duchess.”

  “And now none of you are bachelors.”

  He slid his fingers through hers. “Very true.”

  “Do they reside here with their wives?”

  “Thomas often does. Em is a bit of a city creature.” He chuckled to himself, though Kate didn’t understand the joke. “Duncan and Fiona, as you’ve probably guessed, spend most of their time in Scotland these days. And I—”

  “Your home is the Delphine.” He nodded, and she tried to ignore the twist in her stomach. “Of course.” The pages of Lady M’s well-preserved copy of Debrett’s flashed in front of her memory as he opened his mouth to say something. She hurried to stop him. “Are Thomas and Em home? That’s Lord and Lady Westfield, isn’t it?”

  “I believe they’re actually at Edgebourne Hall,” Jack said. “Something about not having any patience for the little Season, and research to do for the League.” He opened the carriage door and somehow managed to stand up and maneuver his long body around her and down the steps in one fluid movement. “Shall we?”

  She took his offered hand, gathered her skirts, and descended. “Lead on, Captain.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The interior of the house proved to be as elegant as the exterior. Wide, sunny rooms opened off of the entryway and a servant came to take their wraps and direct the distribution of their luggage with smiling efficiency. Jack led her upstairs. “After Em moved in, she made a few renovations,” he said. “This second level is primarily residences suitable for couples.”

  Kate pursed her lips. Another indication that the family had expectations, apparently. “And you had no objections?”

  “To having somebody else decorate rooms I never stay in? Not particularly,” Jack said with a grin. “But I give you free rein to make any changes you’d like.”

  “I would think Lady Westfield might have something to say about that. Not to mention Lady Kilgoran.”

  “My dear girl, those two will be so happy to have you here that you could rebuild the house upside down and they wouldn’t say a word.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jack opened the door to what must be their chamber, another large, airy room filled with elegant furniture that demonstrated virtually none of Jack’s personality. There was a ship in a bottle on the mantle, at least, she noted with what remained of her sense of humor. Poor Lady Westfield had tried. He tugged her over to one of two chairs near
the window, and she sat obediently.

  “Em and Fiona are cousins, did you know that?”

  She frowned, then brought the relevant Debrett’s page back up in her memory. “Related to Lord Bradley, yes?”

  “Good memory,” Jack said.

  “Well trained,” she said ruefully. “Lady M takes her duty as a chaperone quite seriously.”

  “So I’ve heard,” he murmured. “Anyway, what the society pages probably didn’t tell you is that neither of them grew up knowing the other existed, and both had childhoods that were . . . not ideal.” She glanced at him questioningly, and he raised a hand and shook his head. “It’s not my place to give the details. Suffice it to say that when they discovered each other, and married into the close-knit Edgebourne clan, they made it very clear that family comes first.”

  “I feel the same way,” she said slowly, thinking of her sister.

  “I know you do.”

  “So they’ll simply welcome me into the fold because I’m family now?”

  “My dear Kate, you’re going to fit in more than you’ll ever know,” Jack said. He came and knelt in front of her, sliding his arms around her in the chair and resting his head on her chest. She threaded her fingers through his soft hair, and they rested there for what felt like an endless moment.

  Finally, she slid her hands down his face and cupped his chin, lifting his head so that she could see his eyes. “So, then, what’s the plan, Lord Rothwell?”

  He turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. “We’ll go see Her Grace in the morning, as soon as it’s decent to do so. In the meantime, you can make a list, if you’d like.”

  “Of what?”

  “Hmm. Well, there are two options, I’d say. You could make a list of what you need to redecorate this room.” His lips slid to her wrist, and her skin began to heat in delightful ways. “Or you could make a list of what we could do in it.”