The Captain's Frozen Dream

by Georgie Lee

  ‘You know as well as I do society doesn’t need proof, just stories, especially when they concern such a well-loved and esteemed man like yourself.’

  ‘Insults, how charming.’ He narrowed his eyes at Conrad. ‘Don’t think you can intimidate me with threats. I didn’t spend my whole life building up the Helton name only to have you drag it through the dirt with your poor choice of mate.’

  ‘Thankfully, you won’t be here to see such a travesty,’ Conrad mocked.

  ‘I’m not dead yet.’

  ‘You are to me.’ Conrad turned his back on the man and left, rigid with rage. The hours he’d spent in the library at Heims Hall watching his father cough and shiver, his body and spirit broken, made Conrad want to speed Lord Helton along on his journey to hell. The only thing which kept Conrad from returning to the sitting room to do it was the promise he’d made to his mother. She’d refused to let Conrad waste his life in search of revenge, or allow the ugly hate which fed Lord Helton eat Conrad up from the inside until there was nothing left but a bitter shell. She’d wanted Conrad to overcome his uncle by succeeding, not sinking to his disgusting level, believing providence would wreak justice upon the marquis far better than either she or Conrad could. It seemed with Preston’s death and the consumption eating at his lungs, she was right.

  His anger easing, Conrad continued down the hallway in search of Henry, then paused at the library door, surprised to see Lord Mardling inside perusing the shelves. He’d been a fine captain before his brother died in a coaching accident, making him the earl. Lord Mardling could be found here most nights during the Season, but rarely in the winter.

  Conrad entered the library and approached the earl. He had a great deal of his uncle’s work to undo where Katie was concerned and Lord Mardling might be a man to help him. ‘Lord Mardling, what are you doing in London in November?’

  ‘Captain Essington, good to see you alive and well.’ Lord Mardling looked over the tops of his spectacles. ‘A council meeting has brought me and the countess back to London for the week. She isn’t very happy about it, afraid of what people might say and all that. I rather enjoy the chance to return and select a few more items to keep me amused when the country snow sets in.’

  Conrad flexed his hand at the thought of the coming bad weather. ‘Do you still have your collection of exotic skeletons here in London?’

  ‘I’d give up the paintings or the furniture before I’d let them go. Wife wouldn’t want to hear me say it, but it’s true.’ The older man slipped off his spectacles and wiped them with his sleeve. ‘What interest do you have in the skeletons? Looking to abandon the excitement of exploration for the study of anatomy?’

  ‘No, it isn’t for me but for—’ He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. ‘Miss Vickers. I’m sure you remember her and her father from the Naturalist Society. She’s quite the lady scientist. She’d be in no end of raptures if she could examine a few of your more exotic specimens.’

  Lord Mardling slowly set the brass frames on his nose, taking great care to hook the ends behind his ears. ‘Well, I— You see, Captain Essington, the thing is, I’m not sure it would be prudent to invite the young lady to my house. My wife has strange notions about her, stories she’s heard and the like.’

  Conrad fought to keep the shock from showing in his expression. For a man like Lord Mardling, who took little interest in gossip, to allude to such things was akin to Lord Helton attending a botany lecture. ‘Lord Mardling, do you think I’d risk my reputation by associating with a woman of loose morals?’

  ‘You were gone a long time, Captain Essington.’ Lord Mardling plucked a book from the shelf and turned it over in his hands. ‘And the rumours were quite specific about her and certain members of the Naturalist Society, especially Mr Rukin.’

  Conrad fingered the lion-headed button on his coat, trying to slip from the suspicion coiling through him to maintain his current course. ‘I assure you, Lord Mardling, there’s no truth to the rumours, only lies invented by my uncle to strike at me and Miss Vickers. You know how he is, and you’ve been around long enough to remember the things he said about my parents and all the other whisperings.’

  Rumours of Lord Helton’s part in Conrad’s father’s poor health had been rife for years after his father had retired to the quiet of Heims Hall. It wasn’t until Conrad was grown and his mother on the verge of joining her husband when she’d told him the truth. Conrad had secretly blamed his father for years for not standing up to his brother, and when he heard the reason why, he finally understood. His father had held his ground against the marquis in order to marry Conrad’s mother and he’d paid a heavy price. Once again, Conrad admired the force of will his mother had used to keep the marquis from becoming Conrad’s guardian after his father had died. His life would have been very different, and painfully empty, if she’d failed.

  ‘Yes, quite a dreadful business all those whisperings, especially when your father was so ill.’ Lord Mardling tapped his thumbs against the book. ‘I hear Lord Helton isn’t well.’

  So, it wasn’t just Conrad who’d noticed the changes in Helton, though Conrad had known too many sailors who’d lingered for years once they developed the cough to predict Lord Helton’s imminent demise. ‘Even if he’s ailing, you know his type, they’re too stubborn to die. They insist on holding on to make as many people as possible miserable before they go. It’ll be years before I inherit.’

  ‘Yes, I had a grandfather like that. Still, when Lord Helton does finally let go of life, you’ll be the marquis.’

  Lord Mardling looked curiously down his long nose at Conrad, as if seeing for the first time Conrad’s future and how doing him a favour now might benefit him later. The realisation made Conrad uneasy. He didn’t want the influence of the Helton name to be the deciding factor in any man’s dealings with him. His uncle had traded on his title for too long, coating it in a greasy slick of fear and intimidation. It would take a lifetime for Conrad to free it from the mire.

  ‘For the moment I’m simply one captain asking another for a favour. What do you say? May we visit your collection?’

  Lord Mardling stopped fiddling with the book and studied Conrad, as though weighing the desire to show off his impressive collection against the possible wrath of his wife. In the end, his pride won and he slapped the book against his palm. ‘Why not? Come around tomorrow at noon. Wife will be off to the glovier and won’t give us any trouble. I’ll be happy to show the young lady my collection.’

  ‘Thank you, Lord Mardling. I’m grateful.’ Conrad would have been more grateful if Lady Mardling was included in the visit. For all Conrad’s influence with the men, he knew the challenges both he and Katie faced were with the women. Though he wondered what such a success might achieve. It would take more than a few days to undo the months of damage to her reputation, and truth be told, it might never recover completely. There were many in society who still refused to recognise the Countess of Thurlow despite the years which had elapsed since her days on the stage and her marriage to the Earl. It didn’t matter. Henry was right, Conrad didn’t give up on those who depended on him, not mutinous crewmen, shrewish cousins, or wayward fiancées. Conrad would see this through, just as he’d seen his men through the bitterest of winters. In the end, as it had made a difference to his men and their lives, it would make a difference to Katie and perhaps ease his guilt at having left Aaron behind.

  * * *

  ‘Lord Mardling’s?’ Katie gasped as Conrad’s chaise made the turn from Conrad’s quiet neighbourhood into the crowded streets around Hyde Park.

  ‘He’s agreed to show you his collection of skeletons, included in which is an emu you may sketch.’

  ‘That’s very generous of him.’ Katie tried to cover her nervousness with manners. She hadn’t expected to wade in with the sharks of society so soon upon her return to London, yet it seemed as though Conrad was
determined to make her swim. If she wanted his help, then she must follow him into the water, no matter how deep.

  Despite last night’s rain, the day was sunny and they drove with the hood of the chaise down. Above the tops of the crowded houses on their left, the blue sky spread out over the streets with only scattered grey clouds to mar its expanse. To their right, Hyde Park stretched out in softly rolling mounds of brown grass dotted by bare-limbed trees. The red-and-orange leaves covering the ground crinkled and swirled beneath the horse’s feet as the chaise made steady progress.

  The cool winter air rushed over Katie, piercing the folds of the blanket covering her lap. Her gloves weren’t thick enough to protect her hands from the crisp air and neither was her blue pelisse or the green dress beneath. She slipped her hand under the blanket, struggling for warmth. If things had been different between her and Conrad, she could have pulled him close to settle the chills racing through her, but things weren’t different and she kept the length of the seat between them.

  To distract herself from the cold and the temptation of Conrad’s heat, she watched the park pass by. Couples walked huddled together against the stiff breeze, the ladies’ hands covered with warm muffs Katie envied. Despite the chill, it felt good to be out in the air. In the weeks since coming to London, she’d missed the smell and sight of nature. In the darkness of Cheapside, with the stench of smoke, horses and the river always in the air, she realised again how difficult it’d been to leave Whitemans Green. It was one tempting aspect of a possible journey to America—the chance to be among nature while putting her abilities with the pen and her knowledge of the natural world to use to earn her living. If only it wasn’t so far from everything she’d ever known or the idea of leaving didn’t remind her so much of her mother, running from her troubles instead of dealing with them.

  The chaise stopped to wait for a stream of carts and carriages to pass so it could turn left into Grosvenor Square, when a sight near the edge of the park caught Katie’s notice. There, in an open-topped landau, sat Lord Helton, his riding companion none other than Miss Linton.

  ‘How well acquainted is your cousin with Lord Helton?’ Katie asked.

  ‘Only in passing, though I think she’d commit murder if he’d simply nod at her.’

  ‘Then she must have killed someone because she’s with him in his carriage.’ Katie motioned in the direction of the fine landau with the deep-green sides and richly appointed leather seats. It was drawn by two perfectly matched black horses and a driver in livery so well turned out he could have been the envy of the most decorated admiral in the Royal Navy.

  ‘Well, I’ll be, I hadn’t thought him to look to a poor spinster to sire a new heir in a hurry.’ Conrad let out a low whistle. ‘She must be in a twitter to be so honoured by the man.’

  Conrad could make light of it, but seeing the marquis with Miss Linton raised the hairs on the back of Katie’s neck. ‘I don’t think it’s an heir he wants, but something else.’

  ‘Like gossip.’ It wasn’t a comfort for Conrad to so quickly understand her meaning.

  The traffic cleared and the chaise turned down the street leading to Grosvenor Square. Katie rubbed her hands together, glad to be driving away from the marquis. Whatever Miss Linton was telling Lord Helton, her being seen with Conrad would only work to confirm Miss Linton’s lies and validate whatever ugly story the marquis was inventing.

  Conrad settled back in his seat and tapped a steady beat on the edge of the phaeton. ‘I’m sure nothing will come of it. There isn’t anything she knows worth telling him.’

  ‘Except we were alone together at Heims Hall.’

  Conrad’s fingers paused in the air before resuming their rhythm. ‘She saw and knows nothing.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ She and Conrad had always been careful when she’d been at Heims Hall with her father, enjoying their pleasures away from the house. To think they’d been so careless this time and it might come back to harm her burned. It was another of the many mistakes she’d made in regards to Conrad, ones she’d make sure to never repeat, though she wasn’t likely to get the chance. Her current time with Conrad was limited and once he was done helping her, he’d turn to the affection of another woman, one who was more willing than her to tolerate his long absences. It shouldn’t matter to Katie, but strangely enough, it did.

  ‘Don’t look so despondent,’ Conrad soothed, not guessing the true reason behind her frown. ‘There’s little Lord Helton can say or do to hurt us.’

  ‘Of course there is. He has the ear of everyone in society and their respect.’

  ‘It isn’t respect, it’s fear and the first chance those he’s intimidated get to turn on him they will and I’ll gladly help them. I know things about him he doesn’t want others to know. He’ll stay silent about us, or he’ll regret it.’

  ‘Either way, they’ll listen to him long before they listen to us. I’m surprised Lord Mardling was so gracious as to invite me to his house since he sits with your uncle in the House of Lords.’

  ‘Lord Mardling is one of the few men with enough money and influence of his own to disregard my uncle’s threats. More than likely he’s helping me simply to spite my uncle.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ She knew the damage the marquis could do with a few words and how difficult it was to recover from such a strike.

  ‘That’s for him to decide and, apparently, he has.’ Conrad’s mouth drew tight at the corners, the unexpected tension making Katie uneasy. ‘Though in the course of our conversation, he alluded to a rumour concerning you and Mr Rukin.’

  Katie gripped the side of the chaise as it hit a hole in the road. A curricle carrying two purple-clad matrons passed them driving the opposite way. Even beneath the shadow of their hats Katie could see the whites of their eyes widening with shock before they huddled together in furious conversation. ‘It’s a lie like all the rest.’

  ‘Lord Mardling isn’t usually a man to gossip.’

  ‘Apparently he is or he wouldn’t have mentioned such a thing.’

  ‘Perhaps he told me to warn me.’

  ‘About what?’ she demanded, hating this cagy approach. It wasn’t like him and it troubled her as much as him entertaining the vile rumour. This one possessed more truth than any of the others, a truth she didn’t want to discuss or remember, not while Conrad fixed her with such suspicion.

  ‘That’s exactly what I’d like to know.’

  ‘Would you like me to go through each and every story and discredit them for you?’

  ‘Yes, then I won’t be taken by surprise whenever a new one surfaces.’

  ‘Which they are sure to do now that your uncle has returned.’ The chaise rolled to a stop beneath the portico of a large house and behind the tall, wide columns separating the front from the traffic of the street beyond. A footman hurried forward to open the chaise door. ‘I don’t believe now is the time to discuss it.’

  ‘No, but at some point we will.’

  Of course they would. As she’d learned from her mother, rumours attached to women never truly disappeared and nothing, not marriage, distance, time or even the truth could make them fade.

  * * *

  The unease Conrad’s accusations created increased as Katie entered Lord Mardling’s grand hall. Katie looked up at the plaster ceiling and the cherubs gazing down at them from their painted clouds. She and her father had passed this house many times and, despite knowing of the impressive collection of animal specimens inside, she’d never once imagined entering it. Naturalists of Lord Mardling’s pedigree didn’t consort with men like her father.

  ‘Welcome, Captain Essington, and you, too, Miss Vickers.’ Lord Mardling was all smiles as he came down the stairs to greet them. ‘It’s a treat to show off my humble collection. Though it doesn’t exactly rival Mr Hunter’s in variety, I’m proud of it. I should be getting a
monkey soon from a friend in India. Wife hates this hobby of mine, but I hate paying her exorbitant dress allowance so I believe we’re even.’

  ‘Thank you again for having us.’ Conrad smiled for the earl, but the tension from the carriage showed itself in the tightness of his stance. Katie wondered if he regretted vouching for her, especially with a man he’d one day outrank. If he did, it was too late for either of them to change course now.

  Lord Mardling proudly hooked his fingers in the pockets of his waistcoat as he turned to Katie. ‘Captain Essington told me something about your theory, though not enough to give it all away. I’m curious to read your paper when you publish it.’

  ‘May I dedicate it to you, my lord?’ Katie asked, emboldened by his enthusiasm. With Lord Mardling’s support, it would be difficult for others to dismiss her work.

  Lord Mardling’s smile stiffened at the corners. ‘Let’s discuss such things when the time comes, no point rushing into it. Why, there might be men more esteemed than me who deserve your praise.’

  Katie’s spirits dropped. She could practically hear the story of her and Mr Rukin rolling through his mind. He must want to vex Lord Helton very much to have agreed to Conrad’s request. She almost wished he hadn’t. She was tired of reliving the past year and having people stare and whisper at her, especially with Conrad now casting the same aspersions her way.

  ‘Come, I keep the collection in here.’ He ushered them towards the back of the house.

  Whatever misgivings Katie held about being here and with Conrad, they were forgotten the moment Lord Mardling pushed open the double doors to the large room filled with books and skeletons. A tall bank of windows at the back arched up over the top like a conservatory to let in the sun. In the bright light, Katie read the small print on the spines of the books crowding the many shelves. It wasn’t all biology, but old works from the time of good King Henry, Greek writers and medieval texts. Though she couldn’t read Latin, she knew enough from her father’s anatomy lessons to recognise a few of the words in gilded letters on the old spines.