Captain Of Her Heart

by Barbara Devlin

  Alex’s mouth fell agape, and then she blinked. “Is that so?”

  “Indeed.” With a chuckle, he deposited his napkin on the bowl, pushed from his chair, stood upright, and bent to kiss her. “Are you intending to nap, today?”

  “Yes.” Alex gazed at him, with a misty-eyed, dreamy expression he had not seen since Plymouth. “Dr. Studly advises it, for the health of our children.”

  “When?” He licked the curve of her neck. “As I would join you.”

  “In about an hour, I suppose.” Her breath hitched, when he plunged his tongue into the cleft of her cleavage. “Jason, I am to sleep, during that time.”

  “My naughty bride, I mean to hold you, nothing more.” He chuckled, as he again tasted her lips. “But I like the way you think, and, if memory serves, release relaxes you, as nothing else.”

  “You are correct, in your estimation.” She giggled. “And you are insatiable.”

  “Always, where you are concerned.” Yes, his bride was ripe for courtship. How had he missed the obvious signs? “Then I shall meet you in our chamber, in an hour.”

  “I look forward to it.” As he made to retreat, Alex stayed him, with a palm to his cheek. Holding his stare, she emitted the softest whimper, before she covered his mouth with hers. It was at once a sultry summons, impossible to deny, and the promise of a sensuous assignation unlike any they had enjoyed since January. “Until then, lady mine.”

  #

  “And do not be too hard on Mr. Penniman.” Alex studied her husband, as he adjusted his cravat, and she marveled at the change in his demeanor. Had the sea air affected his brain? “I believe he is new to estate work.”

  “I shall try to contain myself.” Jason smiled his mischievous smile, as he exited the dining room, and her heart melted.

  Now she had executed her plan much easier than she had anticipated. And how accommodating was her husband, as if he welcomed the opportunity to provide assistance. In light of her captain’s obliging nature, she had almost revealed her part in the tragedy that was Molly’s affair. In the nick of time, she had recalled her husband’s edict forbidding such machinations, delivered during a heated discussion, at the cottage in Plymouth. So she had acted otherwise.

  Then again, he had not inquired after the nanny. Had Jason questioned Alex’s involvement, she would have admitted everything, sparing no detail. Long ago, she had learned her lesson, and never again would she lie to her husband, but she had altogether altruistic motives for instructing Molly.

  For some reason she could not fathom, the nanny and the stablemaster gave Alex hope for her and Jason. If she could manage to reconcile her staff members, then she just might win a much prayed for reunion with her captain.

  Perhaps that ambition had led her to kiss Jason. It was the first she had initiated, since that dark day in January, when he had crushed her dreams and rejected her love. But something inside her had rekindled beneath his praise, and Alex seemed powerless to resist the lure her husband manifested, so she resolved to ride the crest of desire and see where it landed her. Yet she coveted an abundance of caution, as another disappointment would destroy her, forever.

  “Thank heavens he is not providing equal advice to Mr. Penniman.” Sharp movement in her belly had her sucking a breath, and she shook her head. “Now don’t you two start with me. Miss Duckett will be just fine, as long as your father is none the wiser.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  To forgive or not to forgive?

  Now that was the primary question Alex pondered, as she gazed at the toes of her slippers and breathed deeply to relax. Bent forward, she rested her hands on the back of the sofa, in the drawing room. The odd position, which would have looked awkward to the casual observer, relieved the pressure of the babes in her belly, and she had identified every serviceable scrap of furniture, of requisite height, in the house, to indulge in an impromptu respite.

  As the graceless pose soothed her physical aches, it spawned mental torment. Wrestling with indecision and the double-damned fear that paralyzed her, she considered whether or not to let bygones be bygones, in regard to her husband and his original refusal to wed her, given the situation between the nanny and the stablemaster had improved.

  At first, Molly had been quite cavalier with Mr. Penniman. The nursemaid had been brash and, in some circumstances, condescending, as she upbraided her less than elegant suitor. But of late the former cook-maid rarely mentioned Tom’s name. No longer had she blushed in his presence, and she had not flinched at the sound of his voice. Perhaps the two young lovers had, at last, reconciled.

  A cluster of vibrant pink roses appeared, as if from nowhere.

  “Oh.” She started and lifted her head. “Jason?”

  “Good afternoon, my lovely bride.” Grinning from ear to ear, he rocked on his heels. “It is our usual nap time, is it not?”

  As if on cue, the mantel clock chimed the hour.”

  “Yes.” For the last three days, he had joined her, in bed. “The bouquet is for me?”

  “Of course.” He sketched an elegant bow. “I raided our garden, as it is the end of the season.”

  “But—why?” Confused, she blinked.

  “Do I require a reason?” He arched a brow.

  “No.” The babes moved, and she winced. “But you have never given me flowers. In fact, you never gave me anything, when in London.”

  “I know that.” With a heavy sigh, he shuffled his feet. “Mine was a sorry excuse for a courtship, love.”

  “Were you courting me then, as I hadn’t noticed?” In retrospect, he had gifted her nothing, not even a miniature of the Intrepid, as was customary of sea captains, when wooing prospective brides, during the two years she had pursued him. In contrast, she had given him everything.

  “Alex, I have not done right by you, in so many ways. In effect, I took you for granted, and I would rectify that slight and never again repeat that mistake.” Jason trailed a finger along her cheek. “May I court you, now?”

  “What is the point?” She shrugged, even as she almost choked on her enthusiasm. “We are married.”

  “Better late than never.” He wiggled his brows, and she could not help but laugh. “What have you to fear?”

  Complete and utter devastation, the likes from which I will never recover. “If that is your wish, who am I to stop you?”

  “Then let us begin anew, darling.” He handed her the simple but charming arrangement and then swept her into his arms. “Right now, I should guard your slumber.”

  “Jason, be careful.” Worried he might drop her, she clung to him, but he carried her upstairs as though she weighed nothing more than she had without the babes. “Do not injure your back.”

  “Alex, I do not break so easily.” After entering their sitting room, he kicked the door shut and repeated the action, when he conveyed her to the bedchamber, and then set her on her feet.

  As always, he untied her laces, removed her dress, and knelt to take off her slippers, garters, and stockings. He drew the chemise over her head, before lifting her to the four-poster. And then it was time for the main event.

  Jason doffed his boots, cravat, coat, waistcoat, and shirt. Wearing only his skintight breeches, which tempted her even in her condition, he climbed onto the mattress, fluffed the pillows, and situated the cushion on which she rested her belly, at his side. When she had assumed her favorite position, he cradled her head and kissed her hair.

  Without warning, she burst into tears.

  “Why are you crying, darling?” He scratched her scalp, as he hugged her. “Are you uncomfortable? Are you in pain?”

  “It is not what you think.” She sobbed. “Oh, Jason. I saw us like this, last year, when I dreamed of our future. I had envisioned such grand plans for us, and then everything fell apart. In those six months you were gone, I had thought it would never happen, and I surrendered my fantasies, but here we are, together.” She wept without shame.

  “Alex, I must confess I remained ignorant of t
he seriousness of the misery I caused you, until now—until this very second.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “And I have repeatedly broken my promise not to pressure you into reconciliation, when I vowed otherwise. While I will never stop trying to restore your faith in me, know that I will never leave you, so there is no rush. Take all the time you need, love.”

  “Do you mean that?” She shifted to look him in the eyes. “Truly?”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “And I cannot apologize enough, for hurting you, for abandoning you, when you needed me most. I understand you are afraid, and that is your due. But I hope, very much, that you can find it within you to trust me, again.”

  In that moment, the imaginary but nonetheless vicious chains shackling her heart loosened, and Alex sighed in relief. Invisible walls, so long imprisoning her in a miserable tomb of melancholy and fear, crumbled in a flash. He could not have known it, but Jason had just freed her from the powerful bonds of disappointment, devastation, and despair.

  “Shall I pleasure you, so you might have your nap?” He tucked the blankets snug about her. “Tell me what you wish, and you will have it.”

  “Will you hold me?” She nuzzled his chest. “I do so love sleeping in your arms.”

  “Of course.” With a finger, Jason tipped her chin and bestowed upon her an achingly tender kiss. “Rest, angel. I will be here, when you wake.”

  The realm of fanciful reveries danced at the fringe of her consciousness, and Alex smiled as she drifted. No longer would she fight her husband. No longer would she resist his overtures. No longer would she erect barriers between them. She would retrench. She would hope. And, with a little luck, she might find herself, again.

  #

  “Ouch.” Alex secured the needle and thread and sucked the end of her injured finger. Had any lady ever met her fate from countless pinpricks?

  “Did you hurt yourself, your ladyship?” Molly leveled her gaze on the embroidery and grinned. “You are not concentrating, as your stitches are uneven.”

  “Dear friend, how many times must I remind you that, in private, I wish you would call me by name?” Alex dropped her hoop to her lap. “And I am distracted.”

  Of course, that was the understatement of the decade, as she had thought of nothing but her captain’s liberating proclamation, delivered during her nap, three days ago. The morning that followed, when the new day dawned, brought with it the tepid return of Lady Alexandra Seymour, as was, and Mrs. Jason Collingwood had yet to fully reconcile the two.

  “I sympathize with your affliction.” With a deep-seated frown, the nursemaid halted her work. “It is strange, how we think we want one thing, when we desire quite the opposite.”

  “Has something happened between you and—” A knock at the door interrupted Alex. “Come.”

  “I beg your pardon, your ladyship.” Mr. Penniman, bearing an armload of firewood, entered the room. “Captain Collingwood bade me stock the hearth, as the staff remains short of footmen.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Penniman.” Alex smiled, although he had not spared her a glance. But what struck her was the change in his appearance.

  The chocolate brown coat and fawn colored breeches he wore fit as if they had been made expressly for the stablemaster. Someone had taught him to tie a proper mathematical, as his pristine cravat complimented a burgundy waistcoat, and a pair of polished top boots completed his impressive ensemble. Had the stableman employed the services of a tailor? But his attire was not the only aspect that had undergone a miraculous transformation.

  His raven black hair had been cropped into the latest fashion, emphasizing a strong forehead and chiseled cheekbones. And his face was clean-shaven and bereft of a single smudge of dirt or grime. Had she thought him handsome? In truth, Tom Penniman would incite a riot, in the ballrooms of the ton.

  “My apologies, for the disruption, your ladyship.” He sketched an elegant bow. “With your permission, I will leave you, now.”

  “Mr. Penniman, will you not acknowledge Miss Duckett?” It struck Alex as odd that he ignored Molly. “Is the nanny not lovely, in her pink dress?”

  “Forgive my oversight.” With his stare firmly fixed to the floor, Mr. Penniman inclined his head. “I beg your pardon. Good afternoon, Miss Duckett.”

  “The same to you, Tom—I mean, Mr. Penniman.” The nursemaid leaned over the armrest of her chair and gushed, as would an eager pup, yearning for a pat of approval from its master. “It is a beautiful day.”

  “Indeed, we enjoy very fine weather,” Mr. Penniman replied, in monotone, and compressed his lips. “Will that be all, your ladyship?”

  “Yes, Mr. Penniman.” Stunned by his cold demeanor toward Molly, Alex gulped, as her well-intended advice may have sunk the nanny’s ship. “You are excused.”

  As soon as Mr. Penniman quit the room, Molly burst into tears.

  “Oh, dear.” Alex offered her handkerchief. “What happened? What went wrong?”

  The nanny wailed louder.

  “He made no attempts on your person, did he?” Alex wiped the nursemaid’s cheeks. “He has not accosted you.”

  “I should be so lucky.” Molly sniffed. “Oh, Alex. I am in a terrible state. Tom no longer wants me. He only has eyes for the upstairs maid.”

  “Colleen?” Alex tapped a finger to her chin and envisioned the new servant. “But I just hired her, and she is very young. The chit laughs at everything.”

  “And now my Tom loves her.” Burying her face in her hands, Molly sobbed.

  “Dear friend.” Alex wrapped her arm about the nursemaid’s shoulders. “Tell me the truth. When you asked me to help you resist Mr. Penniman, you really wanted my counsel on attracting him.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “How did you know?” The nanny’s chin trembled, as she gazed at Alex. “What gave me away?”

  “You and I have more in common than you realize.” Alex pondered her predicament. “That is why my advice was designed to garner his attention.”

  “What?” With an expression of utter horror, Molly shuddered. “Do you mean that your instruction was intended to lure Tom?”

  “Yes.” With a smile, Alex gave Molly a gentle nudge. “I suspected you had not abandoned your campaign.”

  “Oh, no.” To Alex’s dismay, the nanny slumped forward, in a heap of misery.

  “Molly, what have you not told me?” A chill of unease shivered down Alex’s spine. “Please, talk to me.”

  “I have made a terrible mistake.” The nursemaid hiccupped. “Because I was not honest with you, I am to blame for what has happened.”

  “You speak in riddles, and I am confused.” Yet Alex suspected she had committed a grievous error. “And I have an awful feeling.”

  “Do not worry about me, my lady.” With a plaintive sob, Molly clutched Alex’s hand. “You are not at fault, as my plan failed because I misread your sage guidance.”

  “But I thought my directions quite clear.” In a flash, Alex catalogued her suggestions and could find no flaws. “Where did I steer you amiss?”

  With her arms wrapped about herself, Molly stood and walked to the window. “You are innocent, Alex.”

  Despite attempts to the contrary, Alex blanched and braced for a lightning strike. “I would not say that.”

  “But you are, as I twisted your recommendations to suit my purpose.” Molly vented a self-mocking snort. “My mother once told me that manipulating men was quite simple, as one need only pretend to favor the opposite of the desired objective. So I tailored my behavior to countermand your counsel, thinking I might win Tom.”

  “Oh, Molly.” Shifting from side to side, Alex scooted from the sofa and joined her friend. “Would that you had confided in me, as I would have aided you, whatever your endeavor.”

  “It is all right.” The nursemaid dried her tears on the sleeve of her plain frock. “I brought this on myself, as I envied your marriage, and I thought Tom was my match, as Captain is yours. Perhaps I was not meant for that sort of happiness, and I shoul
d settle for the blessings of a secure occupation and a comfortable residence.”

  Hideous laughter, haunting and taunting, filled Alex’s ears, and she swayed. A series of rejoinders, rebukes, and rejections echoed, and she shook her head. Grasping the shield-shaped back of a Hepplewhite chair, she clutched a fist to her chest.

  “Do not despair, Molly. It is never too late.” The declaration, freely made, worked as a balm, soothing frazzled nerves, but something she had not foreseen happened, just then. A surge of confidence invested Alex, spreading from her heart, inch by inch, until it suffused every muscle with a burst of derring-do, leaving her no choice but to act. “The cook baked some fresh Bath buns, this morning, and I know they are your favorite. Why don’t you enjoy an early tea, and will you send in Phipps, as you make for the kitchen?”

  “That sounds lovely.” The nanny sniffed. “Thank you, your ladyship.”

  Alone, Alex paced before the window. Wringing her fingers, she peered beyond the glass, at the manicured lawn and boxed hedges. As she had cared for the grounds of the manor, she had to nurture her staff, as they were her responsibility.

  “You wished to see me, your ladyship?” Artie entered the drawing room, and Alex marveled at his elegant appearance and refined manners.

  “Yes.” Nagging self-doubt reared its ugly head, but Alex quashed it. “Will you ask Gertie to deliver a pot of tea, some Bath buns, and black butter to the back parlor? And send for Mr. Penniman to join me, posthaste.”

  “Very good, your ladyship.” Phipps bowed.

  With hope as a shield, Alex tottered to the oval mirror and assessed her appearance. Molly had arranged Alex’s brown hair in loose curls, with a single thick lock draped at her neck. Turning left, she scrutinized her silhouette, which lacked the refinement of her pre-pregnancy figure, but the pale blue morning dress accented her creamy complexion, to perfection.