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At the Captain's Command
Louise M. Gouge
Duty and career–Captain Thomas Moberly of His Majesty's Navy prizes them above all. So why is he tempted to relinquish both for Dinah Templeton? Though Dinah seems sweet and charming, the difference in station between an East Florida belle and the son of an earl is too marked to ignore.And all other obstacles pale with the discovery that Dinah's brother James is not what he seems….A war is brewing on the colonies' horizon, and James has chosen his side–in opposition to the country Thomas has sworn to defend. But what of Dinah? Where does her heart truly lie–with her family, or with the man she claims to love?
Dinah started to remind Captain Moberly of her vow not to marry a seafarer, but somehow the words would not form.
He gazed about the room. “You have your choice between Mr. Richland Senior or Junior.”
Dinah bit her lips to keep from giggling. “Captain, I order you to cease matchmaking for me.” A playful thought nudged Dinah’s mind. “That is, unless I am permitted to serve the same office for you.”
He gave her a slight bow. “Fair enough. Make your selection and present me to the lady.”
She stared around the room, seeking a likely candidate. “Hmm. Well. How about…no, not her. And then there’s…but no, she would not suit.” She released a dramatic sigh. “I fear not a single match can be found for you in our city, sir.”
Kindness would not permit her to tease about pairing him with any of her acquaintances. Kindness? Or perhaps something far more selfish?
LOUISE M. GOUGE
has been married to her husband, David, for forty-six years. They have four children and six grandchildren. Louise always had an active imagination, thinking up stories for her friends, classmates and family, but seldom writing them down. At a friend’s insistence, in 1984 she finally began to type up her latest idea. Before trying to find a publisher, Louise returned to college, earning a B.A. in English/creative writing and a master’s degree in liberal studies. She reworked the novel based on what she had learned and sold it to a major Christian publisher. Louise then worked in television marketing for a short time before becoming a college English/humanities instructor. She has had ten novels published, five of which have earned multiple awards, including the 2006 Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award. Please visit her website at www.louisemgouge.com.
At the Captain’s Command
Louise M. Gouge
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
I will receive you and will be a Father unto you,
and ye shall be my sons and daughters,
saith the Lord Almighty.
—II Corinthians 6:17b–18
This book is dedicated
to my beloved husband, David,
who has stood by my side through my entire
writing career, encouraging me, helping me with
research, reading my raw manuscripts and giving me
the gentlest of corrections. Oh, and best of all,
he gives me the male perspective and insights a
woman sometimes can’t quite grasp. He also gives
me the benefit of his military experience in the
U.S. Army, during which he served in the
101st Airborne in Vietnam. Every March 11,
I thank God for bringing David safely home to me.
Acknowledgments:
In addition, I want to thank
my amazing critique partners for their
wonderful suggestions and research tips:
DiAnn Mills, Ramona Cecil, MaryLu Tyndall
and Laurie Alice Eakes, all gifted authors
in their own rights.
Finally, I’d like to thank my insightful editor,
Melissa Endlich, who sets the bar high for
writing excellence. I’m proud to be writing for you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
May 1780
St. Augustine, East Florida Colony
The instant Dinah saw the three naval officers, she ducked into the mercantile and hid among the stacks of goods. To her relief, the men, grandly uniformed in indigo wool, gold braid and black bicorne hats, continued up St. George Street. Yet she could not help but notice the well-formed profile of the captain among them. A strong jaw. High cheekbones. Jet-black hair tied back in a queue. She wondered what color his eyes were.
What was she thinking? She quickly turned her attention to a display of awls and knives laid out on a shelf.
“How may I help you, Miss Templeton?” The rotund, middle-aged proprietor approached her, admiration gleaming in his dark eyes. “Some silk for a new gown, perhaps? My latest shipment of lace has arrived and—”
“No, thank you.” Dinah lifted her basket of lavender flowers from her arm and held it like a shield as the widower moved closer. Coming in here had been a mistake. “I do not require anything.” Tension tightening in her chest, she hurried toward the door.
He reached it first, and his eyebrows arched. “I have tea from China and…”
Dinah drew herself up to her full height and lifted her chin. “Please allow me to pass, Mr. Waterston.”
He mirrored her posture, although his shorter height did not reach hers, and he sniffed. “I must say, Miss Templeton, for a girl with no family, you certainly do put on airs. Would you not prefer to be mistress of your own home instead of living with Mr. and Mrs. Hussey?” His shoulders slumped, his gaze softened and his lips curved into a gentle smile. “You could do worse than marrying a responsible merchant such as myself.”
A twinge of pity softened her annoyance. “As I have told you before, sir, we truly would not suit.”
Even if she found the merchant’s offer appealing, which she did not, his reminder of her orphaned state did nothing to recommend him, nor did his reference to her living situation. She did indeed have relatives, but they were all far away. And yes, she would like to be mistress of her own home. But in truth, not one of the many unattached men in St. Augustine suited her, in spite of her friends’ attempts at matchmaking. After four years in this small city, she had no doubt God had consigned her to a state of spinsterhood.
“I wish you a good day, sir.” She slid past Mr. Waterston and walked out into the street, lifting a silent prayer of thanks that the encounter had ended without unpleasantness. She encountered quite enough unpleasantness every day at home.
Coming to this city had not been her preference, but she’d had no other choice. Even before the beginning of the war that now raged in the northern colonies, she had felt twice displaced. Her parents died when she was very small, and her relatives had been unable to take her in. Then, when the dear spinster ladies who reared her died of a fever, the elders of the Nantucket Friends Meeting placed her with the Husseys, for Mrs. Hussey had also been reared by the Gardiner sisters. Once the war began to escalate, Artemis Hussey insisted upon removing to this safe haven, where no rebels could threaten to tar and feather him for his Loyalist views. Over these past four years, he had grown more and more disagreeable and usually aimed his dissatisfaction at Dinah rather than at his wife, Anne.
But as Dinah continued on her way, thoughts of Artemis vanished amid the chatter and clatter along the dusty street. When she reached the Parade, the grassy common in front of the governor’s house, she approached several well-dressed ladies who were whispering behind opened fans, their admiring stares aimed across the green lawn.
Elizabeth Markham, a friend near her age, beckoned to Dinah. “Did you see those handsome naval officers who just passed this way?” Her fair cheeks bore a rosy hue, as they always did when the subject under discussion included fine-looking gentlemen.
Dinah stared in wonder at the phenomenon upon her friend’s countenance, for she herself never blushed. “I did see them, yes.”
“Indeed, they are proper-looking gentlemen.” Elizabeth’s mother sent her daughter an indulgent smile, then touched Dinah’s arm. “Dear Miss Templeton, you must join us for tea at the Rose Room.” She waved her hand to take in the others in her little gathering. All the ladies added their approval of the invitation.
“I thank you, Mrs. Markham.” Dinah nodded toward her basket of lavender. “Perhaps after I complete my errand. Tea would be just the thing.” She hurried past the group.
The ladies’ jasmine and rose perfumes mingled with earthy street smells, all swept along by a warm ocean breeze. Throughout the Parade, vendors hawked their wares, everything from cast-iron kettles to candles to live chickens to freshly cut meat, while the squeals of children at play echoed across the lawn. Two gentlemen Dinah knew from St. Peter’s Church doffed their hats, bowed and greeted her with the customary pleasantries. She returned a curtsey but excused herself from further conversation. Instead, she continued up St. George Street toward her destination, maintaining her distance from the British uniforms. They no doubt were on their way to Fort St. Marks, and her objective was a little farther away.
To her right lay Matanzas Bay, and a new ship—a British frigate, if she was not mistaken—bobbed in the mild current, sails furled to its three tall masts. Last evening, she had heard the bells ringing from the Anastasia Island watchtower, signaling a ship’s arrival over the bar. No doubt those officers came from the vessel.
After a walk of perhaps a hundred yards beyond the city proper, she saw to her dismay that the officers had continued past the fort and turned in at the military infirmary, her own objective. She released a long sigh. Perhaps she could slip into the building without notice. If she had not promised to bring the lavender for Dr. Wellsey’s patients, she would delay her errand and return to have tea with Mrs. Markham and the other ladies until the officers went elsewhere.
The familiar odors of sickness and lye soap met Dinah’s nose even before she opened the hospital’s front door, for all the windows of the building were open. She dismissed her own discomfort. Dr. Wellsey’s patients suffered enough with wounds and diseases. Perhaps the fragrance of her flowers would help diminish the unpleasant smells.
Hurrying into the wide entry room, she brushed her straw hat off and let it hang by its ribbons down her back. As she made her way toward the surgeon’s office, she caught a glimpse of the officers in the next chamber. With haste, she slipped into the small office and then out the side door to the herb garden to make certain the plants had sufficient water. Through the hazy glass of the back window, she saw the captain bent over a man on a cot, one hand resting on the sailor’s shoulder. Every nuance of the officer’s relaxed posture bespoke sympathy and concern, not the hauteur one might expect. He had removed his hat, revealing a broad, smooth forehead. Now he lifted his gaze toward the garden window, and she ducked back into Dr. Wellsey’s office, her heart pounding. She hoped the captain had not noticed her presence, or if so, had assumed she was a servant.
Setting her basket on the floor beside the desk, she capped the inkwell and sharpened the feather quill. If not for her and Joanna, the good doctor’s wife, his infirmary and home would be in complete disarray. She found a cloth and dusted his bookshelves and journals, taking care not to disturb the many carefully labeled bottles. Once while dusting, she had lifted a small urn of medicine and hours later was still able to smell the pungent odor of bear grease on her fingers.
The deep rumble of male voices echoed from the inner chambers of the infirmary. This would be the best time to make her escape unnoticed. Pulse racing, she made certain everything was in order, then placed the basket of lavender in the center of the desk. Dr. Wellsey or his assistant could disperse it throughout the rooms as they saw fit.
She hurried into the entry just as the doctor and his guests emerged from the back chamber.
“So you see, Captain Moberly, we make every effort—why, Miss Templeton, what a surprise.”
