“Not at all, Μy Lady,” Jeffrey replied. “He was merely telling me of his plans to usurp my position as Captain.”
Frederic laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. His ears had gone red at the reappearance of Lady Barbara.
“Ah yes, I’m not surprised,” she answered, laying a hand gently on the young man’s shoulder. “We expect great things from Frederic. No one can top him for ambition. I’m surprised he’s even considering settling for Captain. Why not Commodore, Fred?”
When she smiled at him, the poor boy’s ears turned nearly purple.
The clear reminder of just how attractive a woman Lady Barbara was cast a shadow over Jeffrey’s mood. Young Fred was right, Lady Barbara was an angel. A goddess among mortals. What love could she ever have for a beast like himself?
“Fred, why don’t you go and make sure the younger kids are playing fair?” Barbara asked. The boy was more than eager to obey her, giving a curt bow to himself before jogging across the lawn to oversee the younger boys’ roughhousing.
“You have quite an influence over the children here, Lady Barbara,” Jeffrey said.
“Do I?” she asked, though she sounded distant. She was watching an impromptu game of ball that had broken out. “It’s quite damp for that. The grass is slippery.”
Jeffrey smiled. Why was it so easy to smile around her?
“Now, don’t coddle. Slipping on wet grass is an important measure of a good childhood.” Just as he said it a teen aged girl slipped and landed in a shallow puddle of mud. Lady Barbara winced but the girl hopped up again as if nothing had happened.
“The washing will be quite a job tonight.”
“Days like this remind me of my own childhood…” Jeffrey said gently.
This got her attention. Lady Barbara turned to him, tilting her chin up to look at him. “Do tell me about it. I feel that you know just about all there is to know about me, and yet you remain a mystery.”
“A mystery?” Jeffrey scoffed. “My life has been no great deviation from the lives of any other men in society. As a child, I was sent to school.”
“You must have been lonely for your family.”
Jeffrey nodded. “There’s no shame in admitting it to you, I suppose, who are well acquainted with the emotional folly of children. I missed my mother more than I could say. But horseplay with the other boys, even on gray days such as this, helped to keep the melancholy at bay.”
Lady Barbara shook her head slightly, tightening the clench of her arms across her chest. She was cold. Jeffrey debated whether it would be too forward to remove his waistcoat and put it over her shoulders.
“If I had children of my own, I don’t think I could stand to send them away. I’d much rather hire a tutor and keep my babies close.”
He chuckled. “At a certain age, they will begin to take issue with being known only as your babies. It’s good for children to be amongst others of their own age. The friendships I made in school have carried me well into adulthood.”
She shrugged, and he knew that it was only politeness that kept her from arguing. As their friendship grew, he wondered if she would loosen her tongue more. He wished that she would argue with him now, rather than lapse into the well-mannered, disagreeing silence that now fell over them. He imagined that she could get quite spirited in her debates. He wanted to see it.
“Have you had those scars since childhood?” she asked then, out of nowhere.
Jeffrey’s back stiffened. In her presence, he had almost forgotten the way he looked. It was so easy to feel normal around her, to feel at ease. The sudden reminder of his scars was jarring.
“Not childhood, per se.”
“But they aren’t recent,” she said.
“No.”
Why must she ask me about this?
It seemed like a conversation calculated to mar the easy nature of their afternoon together. Why must she delve in that impertinent way into the troubled aspects of his life? He’d already admitted his unmanly homesickness at school, must he now recount his most painful hours to her?
“Was it fire?” she asked. There was something…strange about the way she asked it. Despite the unmannerly directness of her questioning into so private a matter, there was an odd reverence in her tone. As if she, too, was revealing something of herself.
Jeffrey set his jaw. He had no wish to talk of the event that had so catastrophically altered the course of his life. He remembered the cold way his mother had looked at him as he healed. He remembered the way his skin peeled away from his face, sticking disgustingly to the bandages. The fire itself had only lasted a few minutes, and yet the ramifications of his choices in those few moments had changed everything.
How could he explain all of that to Lady Barbara, here under this willow tree, surrounded by the gleeful squeals of well-loved orphans?
He nodded his head tersely.
“I did not mean to pry, Captain Pemberton,” she said softly. She stepped closer to him and placed her hand on the crook of his arm. Even the thrill of her tender touch was not enough to offset his irritation.
“Don’t you?” the words came out sharp and barbed. He felt his brows furrow as he shot her a glance that must have looked like a glare.
At once, she jerked her hand away. There was a tiny gasp and her wide eyes blinked in surprise. How he wished he could take those words back and try again.
“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t know it was a forbidden subject,” she said in a near-whisper.
His arms ached to embrace her and assure her that she’d done no wrong.
“It is, Lady Barbara. I’ve no desire to speak of it, and I’d thank you not to bring it up again.”
She winced.
Have you no control over your tone of voice, you imbecile?
“I promise I won’t,” she said. Then, tilting her head slightly to the side, she caught his eyes. “Forgive me?”
He inhaled slowly, captured in the seducing fathoms of her eyes.
“There is nothing to forgive.” He tried a gentle smile, hoping against hope that it was convincing. “You caught me off guard once again. I must learn to expect the unexpected with you.”
“I’m afraid that I am not the most delicate of people when it comes to the finer points of social niceties. My father has tried to get me to learn but I know I can be headstrong and impertinent. I don’t mean to be. I’ll try to be better, if you will be patient.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing about you, dear Lady. Not a thing. You must promise not to try to be better, in spite of my occasional surprise.”
Relief flooded him when he saw that grin spread over her lips, the smile that seemed to light up her eyes from within.
Chapter 16
Barbara felt warm in spite of the chill in the air. She tried to look away from him, but she could not manage it. Even the extensive scars could not mask the tenderness in his expression.
How is it that he is not constantly surrounded by ladies vying for his attention? Dash those scars, he is entrancing.
“You spoil me, Sir.”
He scoffed quietly, lowering his gaze before looking away.
The fine mist in the air was beginning to shift into proper raindrops, and soon the children were heading back indoors. She and the Captain followed them. Inside, the scent of rain and damp dust permeated the church building. It was an intensely nostalgic scent, comforting and warm. The children seemed to be affected by it as well and fell into sleepy activities such as reading next to windows and snuggling up to the warm fire that crackled merrily in the main room.
As comforting as the gentle rainfall was, it presented a problem for Barbara. It was nearing the time that she was expected back at home. As the moment dragged on, she chewed on her lip, wondering if she would have to take that dreary old carriage home.
“Lady Barbara, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you home? I can see that you are anxious about the rain.”
Barbara laughed. “Is it so obvious?”
“You wear your feelings on your sleeve,” the captain said.
I pray that that is not altogether true, or else I should have great cause for shame in your presence, Captain.
“Well, I…”
“Please, nothing could give me greater pleasure than seeing you safely, and dryly, home.”
What could she do but acquiesce? “Thank you, Captain Pemberton. You are too generous.”
She said her customary goodbyes to the children, promising as always to return in the morning and urging them all to be good. She was all too aware, the entire time, of Captain Pemberton’s eyes on her. She had never before enjoyed the feeling of being observed by a gentleman. This time, however, she found the rising of the hair on the back of her neck under his gaze to be thrilling and not in an unpleasant way.
Perhaps it was presumptuous of her, but she felt certain that his friendliness bordered on flirtation on more than one occasion. When he watched her, his gaze was appreciative. He liked her. At the very least, he liked how she looked. Her own pleasure at pleasing him caught her by surprise.
The thought of being shut in a carriage with him while it rained, even for such a short drive, filled her with a tingling delight that she did not fully understand, but succumbed to so easily.
When he helped her into his carriage, she was taken at once by its fineness. It was more well-appointed even than her father’s carriage. Though it was slightly smaller. She did not begrudge him the extra space as it meant that, when he came in, they sat quite near each other.
The rain pattered on the roof of the carriage, wrapping them in a haze of soft noise that seemed to cut them off from the rest of the world. Barbara gazed at the droplets of water that fell on the windows, merging together into larger drops before falling quickly in rivulets down the surface.
They said nothing at first. Barbara felt heavy and sleepy, and wished that she had the gumption to rest her head against his shoulder. How pleasant it would be to slip off into a nap, nestled against his warmth, shut in the carriage as it carried her home.
“Rainstorms are somewhat less relaxing at sea,” he murmured. “I’ve missed this. I didn’t realize it, but I did.”
“I can’t be happy that you fell ill, Captain Pemberton, but I am glad that the sea has brought you home for this short season, at least. I’d not have met you otherwise, perhaps for years, perhaps ever.”
He looked shy then, his gaze falling to the floor of the carriage. “Making your acquaintance has been an unexpected pleasure, Lady Barbara.”
She smiled and settled on leaning her head against the chilled window. She wished that her home was much further into the country.
“I should…” he started, then cleared his throat. “I should very much like to invite you to dinner. My townhouse has not the space for a nice meal with a guest, but my mother insists upon my dining with her each Sunday at the home where I grew up. I think I’d find the occasion far less troublesome with your company.”
“Sunday?” she asked.
“Is Sunday too busy for you?” he glanced up at her, looking slightly embarrassed.
“Not at all. I shall have to ask my father, of course. But I’d be very happy indeed to join you.”
“I should warn you,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “My mother can be rather…forthright.”
Barbara grinned. “I’m not worried.”
He smiled back at her, and all too soon the carriage was jostling up the lane to her home.
“Thank you for the ride. My maid will be most grateful for the avoidance of damage to my hems,” she said, reluctant to leave that circle of warmth.
“It was my pleasure, Lady Barbara. I shall send a proper invitation to dinner in the coming days.”
He helped her out of the carriage, and stood outside it as she hurried up the steps. With one last look behind her, she entered the house.
It was blessedly warm inside and Barbara immediately sought out her father. She had a hunch where he might be on that rainy morning, and she hurried to the back of the house.
She smiled when she found him, just where she’d thought he’d be. The double doors leading out to the garden were thrown open and the Duke, wrapped in a blanket, had pulled the settee up toward the door and was lounging comfortably, gazing out at the rain.
“Papa,” she called gently. “You’ll catch your death.”
He turned his head back at her, lifting the corner of the blanket that was draped over his shoulders.
“Blanket.” He said it as though that one word both explained and excused this odd behavior.
There was no worth arguing with him about it. He’d always loved the rain, and she could just as well be grateful that he was sitting inside the open door and not just standing out in the downpour. She sat down next to him, wrapping her shawl tightly around her as she remembered that her dress beneath was still damp. Her heart stuttered at the memory of how Captain Pemberton had caught her in the hallway, his strong hands on her shoulders.
“Did you take the carriage from the orphanage?” the Duke asked. “I was half expecting you to show up here drenched from head to toe.”
Barbara laughed lightly, twisting her fingers around the tails of her shawl. “No, I…actually Captain Pemberton escorted me home. He was kind enough to offer his own carriage.”
The Duke raised a silent eyebrow that said plenty.
“He seems to be interested in the orphanage in more than just a financial capacity.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about the extent of his financial capacity. That was quite the donation.”
“Yes,” Barbara couldn’t help but smile. “I know, it seemed improper to me at first too but after becoming more closely acquainted with him I can see that his intentions were honest. I think he was just looking for the right organization to support and he happened upon us.”
“That’s good of him. Rumors have it that he was something of a miser, living below his means and hoarding his wealth inordinately.”
“Oh no, Papa. I wouldn’t call him miserly. Not at all. He’s terribly generous. I think there are many misconceptions about him. In fact, just as we arrived here, he extended me an invitation to dine with him and his mother.”
That drew the Duke’s attention from the rain at last, and he turned to face her more fully. “Is that so? That’s…unusual for Lord Carlesend.”
“He seems lonely,” she said.
“I suppose he must be. He hasn’t always been. I knew his father, you know. I met Captain Pemberton long before he was a captain, when he was just a lad in short pants. He changed after the accident. And even more when his father passed. Of course I can’t say I knew him very well, you understand. But even I could see the change in him.” Her father looked back out at the dripping garden, and for a moment his eyes took on a faraway look.
“What happened, Papa? To Captain Pemberton. I asked him but…he doesn’t like to speak of it.”
“No, I take it that he does not. I understand that there was an accident in a fire, but that seems to be all that anyone knows.”
“That poor man…” Barbara whispered.
There was a flash of lightning, followed by a deep, rolling thunder that seemed to go on for ages. For a few moments, both father and daughter were transfixed by the storm.
Barbara wondered if Captain Pemberton was back at his home yet. She wondered if he was sitting near a fire, warming his hands. She wondered if that peal of thunder had also caught his attention, and perhaps he was gazing out a window, watching the rain as she was.
Could he possibly be thinking of me as well?
“Well,” her father spoke, sounding as though he had just made up his mind on something. He patted her knee amiably. “I’m glad I thought to invite him to the gala. I thought that the chances of him showing his face were slim. Perhaps you two were meant to meet, both for the sake of the orphanage, and for his sake as well. It’s hard to imagine anyone persisting in loneliness with you as a friend.”
Barbara chuckled. “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”
“It is!” he assured. “Now, Barbara, I know that you weren’t really asking for my permission to dine with the Captain and his mother, but alas, you have it anyway. I do think it’s only polite to return the favor, however. When you go, you must invite them here. I should like to get a closer look at this Captain who seems to have captured the interest of my daughter.”
“Now, Papa. Captain Pemberton and I are friends. Friends and business associates. Nothing more.”
The Duke winked at her.
A Seductive Lady For The Scarred Earl (Steamy Regency Romance) Page 11
