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Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife
Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife
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Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife

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‘I am greatly indebted to your grandfather for allowing me to stay with you,’ Nick bowed to her. ‘I shall have plenty of time to grow used to your funning.’

Eve turned back to her flower arrangement. Her angry, jerky movements broke one of the stems and she was obliged to breathe deeply and calm herself before she continued. The butler came in with a decanter and two glasses and after that the gentlemen paid her no attention, engrossed in their discussions of hunters and bloodlines, so, as soon as she had finished, Eve muttered her excuses and made her escape.

Nick watched her leave the room, her little heels kicking up her skirts as she crossed the floor. A slight cough from Sir Benjamin made him turn and he found his host was holding out his empty glass, indicating with the lift of an eyebrow that it should be refilled. Nick hesitated and the older man winked at him. ‘Come along, my boy. My butler and my granddaughter might argue that brandy is not good for me, but you have not heard my doctor say so. Life is for living, sir, and I mean to enjoy what little time I have left.’

‘I cannot fault that philosophy, Sir Benjamin.’ Nick grinned and carried both glasses over to the decanter. ‘Miss Shawcross seems a little agitated,’ he remarked. ‘I do hope my visit is not inopportune…’

Sir Benjamin chuckled. ‘Her feathers are ruffled because I omitted to tell her you were coming.’

‘I gathered that much.’ Nick smiled to himself as he recalled his first meeting with Evelina Shawcross. ‘I am afraid I might have ruffled her feathers even more.’

‘No matter, she’ll come round.’ Sir Benjamin sipped his brandy. ‘She’s a good gel, my granddaughter. Levelheaded and with as sweet a nature as any man could wish. She’s not the flighty sort, never shown any desire to go off exploring.’ The old man sighed a little. ‘Her mother was quite the opposite. Never happier than when she was travelling the world. Took my son off all over the place when they was married. But Eve’s different, a quiet gel. She needs a husband who can give her all the comforts she has enjoyed here at Makerham. A man who will look after her properly. Can you do that, Captain?’

Nick suddenly found himself fixed with a fierce stare from those faded eyes. He returned the look steadily.

‘You know my circumstances, Sir Benjamin. I believe I can keep a wife in tolerable comfort.’

‘Yes, yes, but will you make her happy?’

Nick fought down a smile.

‘I have never had any complaints yet, sir.’

‘That’s what worries me, a good-looking dog like you. I saw the women at Tunbridge making eyes at you, throwing out lures—and some of ’em old enough to know better!’

‘But what you didn’t see was my responding to any of their—er—lures,’ replied Nick evenly. ‘Let us be clear, Sir Benjamin. I am not a monk; there have been plenty of women in my life, but none of ’em more than a flirtation. If I take a wife, she will have nothing to fear on that score.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Well, sir, if you are wishful to marry my granddaughter, then go to it. But mind you; it must be her decision. I’ll not have her coerced into anything.’

Nick raised his glass.

‘From the little I have seen of the lady, sir, I think she will make up her own mind.’

When Eve went to her room to change for dinner, her maid Martha was laying out her new gown.

‘My blue silk?’ she exclaimed. ‘Is that not a little grand for a family dinner?’

‘We must make you look your best for your visitor, miss.’

‘I am not sure the occasion warrants such a display,’ Eve objected mildly, but Martha was not to be deterred.

‘Captain Wylder is a fine gentleman, miss. Son of an earl, his man says.’

‘I know that, Martha.’

‘Ah, but did you also know that he is a hero? In the Americas he was, fighting the rebels. Captain Wyldfire they called him.’ She spread out the petticoats for Eve to step into them.

‘Martha, what have I told you about repeating servants’ gossip?’

‘This is not gossip, miss,’ Martha corrected her; ‘It is information. He was a bold and fearless captain, Mr Granby told me, always to be found where the fighting was thickest. That’s where he got the name Wyldfire, they say, because he blazed his way through the enemy lines.’

‘And who says so? His own servants, I don’t doubt.’

‘Aye, well, Mr Granby told me some of it, but William the coachman also had it from his groom, who has been with the family for ever.’

Eve gave a little huff of disbelief. ‘I believe they are all besotted with their master. I shall write to my old school-friend Maria Scott—Lady Gryfford as she is now. Her letters are always full of society gossip so I am sure she will be able to furnish me with a true account of our guest.’

‘I am sure she will, miss,’ replied Martha comfortably. ‘And I am sure it will bear out all that has been said. Well, you only have to look at him, so tall and handsome as he is. A real hero, is Captain Wyldfire.’

‘Well there will be no need for him to be a hero in this house,’ retorted Eve crossly. She glanced at the red leather box on the dressing table. ‘What is that?’

‘Your sainted mother’s sapphires.’ replied Martha. ‘Sir Benjamin ordered them to be sent up to you. He wants you to wear them tonight.’

Eve put a hand up to her bare neck. ‘G-Grandpapa sent them?’

‘Why, yes, miss. Most insistent he was.’

She stared at the box. At last she said quietly, ‘Then, of course, I must wear them.’

Nick stood by the fireplace in the little parlour and looked down at the flames leaping merrily in the hearth. One of the logs had fallen forward; he resisted the temptation to push it back into place with his toe. Richard had worked hard to coax him into his dark blue frock-coat and the knee breeches that were the required mode of evening dress for a formal dinner and he knew his trusty servant would think his efforts wasted if he was to end up with wood ash on his soft leather shoes or, even worse, spattered on his white silk stockings. Instead he picked up the tongs and rearranged the logs until the flames were licking hungrily around them. He straightened as the door opened and Miss Shawcross entered. After their encounter on the drive he thought he had himself well under control, but it was an effort to prevent his jaw from dropping as he looked at her. She was a vision in cobalt blue and silver lace, her glorious hair piled on her head and one glossy black curl falling on to her shoulder. Nick smiled to himself; he had come to Makerham determined to court Evelina Shawcross, even if she had been hunchbacked and with a squint. This glorious creature was like a gift from the gods. She aroused in him all that was good—and bad! There was a troubled look on her face as she came into the room and he said hurriedly,

‘I understood this is where you meet before dinner…’

‘You are perfectly correct, sir. I am only sorry that there was no one here to greet you.’

He smiled.

‘You are here now, that is all that matters.’ He walked forwards to give her his arm. The sapphires around her neck twinkled, enhancing the beauty of that slender column. He longed to put up a hand and touch the creamy skin, but she was like a wild animal, tense and ready for flight. He must go carefully.

‘Miss Shawcross, you are not happy with me here.’

‘Oh—no, I—’

Her hand fluttered on his arm and he covered her fingers with his own. She was trembling.

‘Please,’ he murmured, ‘while we are alone let me say this. If you would prefer me to leave, I will make my excuses to Sir Benjamin—’

She stopped, her eyes downcast, the long lashes black against her pale cheeks. Nick watched the play of emotion on her countenance; saw the resolute set of her mouth.

‘You are my grandfather’s guest, sir. It is his will that you should stay, and to me his will is paramount.’

‘But I shall be guided by your wishes, lady. Tell me what you want me to do.’ He continued softly, ‘We made a wretched beginning. Forgive me for that, Miss Shawcross, and allow me to show you that I can be a gentleman.’

He saw the delicate blush tinge her cheeks, read the uncertainty in her eyes when she looked at him, then his gentleness was rewarded with a shy smile.

‘Very well, Captain Wylder, I am ready to be persuaded.’

There was a twinkle in those soft brown eyes, a hint of mischief. The temptation to steal another kiss was very strong, but he resisted. That would not be the action of a gentleman! Instead he escorted her to a sofa. He intended to sit down beside her, but as she sank down she spread out her blue skirts, completely covering the seat. With a wry grin he moved to a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. It would be slow work to win her round, but he found himself warming to the challenge.

Evelina was aware of an irrational disappointment. She had been convinced that he was going to kiss her again, and her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of it. The man had about him an air of danger, a delicious sense of the unknown that set her pulse racing. But now he was determined to be the gentleman. She was glad of it, of course. She flounced down upon the sofa, her silken petticoats billowing around her.

‘Your grandfather explained to me that you and he live here alone,’ remarked the captain, lowering his long frame into a chair. ‘He told me your parents died when you were a child. I am very sorry.’

‘Thank you, but you do not need to pity me; it was more than ten years ago. My parents liked to travel a great deal and I was left at home with Grandpapa, so I never knew them that well; I think they were a very restless couple.’ His sympathetic silence encouraged her to say more. ‘It was a fever; they were on the Continent when they were struck down.’ She paused briefly then forced a smile. ‘But I am very happy living here with Grandpapa, I want for nothing.’

‘But you are very secluded here; do you not find it a little…lonely?’

‘Grandpapa is companion enough for me,’ she responded quickly. ‘I have no wish for female company—and I am beyond the age of needing a chaperon.’

The corners of his mouth lifted fractionally. ‘Remembering our first encounter, I beg to disagree with you on that last point, Miss Shawcross.’

Eve blushed hotly. She was relieved that her grandfather’s entrance created a timely diversion.

Sir Benjamin came in, leaning heavily on his stick and declaring that they should go directly into the dining room.

‘If I sit down here I shan’t be able to get up again,’ he explained with a chuckle. ‘No, no, my dear, I do not need your arm; let Wylder escort you.’

They processed slowly to the dining room, where Eve found herself sitting opposite Nick Wylder.

‘I told Green to rearrange the table,’ said Sir Benjamin, correctly interpreting her look of surprise. ‘Silly for you to be sitting at the far end and Wylder here, halfway between the two of us. Much better to have you near me, where I can see you both. Just a snug little dinner, Wylder,’ he continued. ‘We do not stand upon any ceremony here. It’s plain cooked fare, but you won’t find better in the county, and you have Evelina to thank for it.’

‘Grandpapa!’ She shook her head at him.

‘No need for this modesty, miss! It is only right that our guest knows what a treasure you are. She has been mistress here since she finished her schooling.’ Sir Benjamin laughed. ‘Just seventeen years old, she was then, Wylder. I wanted her to go off and stay with her young friends, to enjoy herself, but she would have none of it. She insisted upon coming home to live with me. Not that she needed to, for we have a very capable housekeeper in Mrs Harding, but Evelina was determined that she would look after me. And she has done so, magnificently.’

‘I do not doubt it,’ returned Captain Wylder. ‘And how many years has that been, sir?’

‘Seven,’ responded Sir Benjamin instantly.

While her grandfather turned his attention to his plate, Eve glared across the table at Nick Wylder. He met her look with a glinting smile.

‘Four-and-twenty,’ he murmured. ‘Far too old for a chaperon.’

‘Positively on the shelf!’ she retorted. Eve signalled to the footman to refill the glasses. ‘So, Captain, you were at Tunbridge Wells. Were you taking the waters?’ She added sweetly, ‘A touch of gout, perhaps?’

His eyes acknowledged the hit, but he said merely, ‘No, I was there on business.’

‘Oh? And is your business now concluded, that you have time for a prolonged stay here at Makerham?’

Again that wicked glint flashed in his deep blue eyes. ‘I hope to conclude my business while I am here.’

‘And just what is your business, sir?’ Eve picked up her wine glass.

‘Marriage.’

She choked.

‘Oh dear, dear,’ muttered Sir Benjamin. He bent a reproving look upon his guest. ‘I had not planned to broach this delicate subject for a day or so, sir.’

‘Then I apologise, Sir Benjamin, but given your granddaughter’s advanced years I did not wish to waste time.’

Evelina, still recovering from her choking fit, could only gasp. Sir Benjamin’s mouth fell open, then his face creased into a smile.

‘Ah, you are funning, sir! Giving my girl her own again, what? Eve, my dear, I think you have met your match, here. Captain Wylder is as big a jokesmith as yourself!’

Evelina forced her lips into a smile, but the look she threw at Nick Wylder promised dire retribution.

Nick turned his attention to his dinner. Damme, but he was enjoying himself, and far more than he had anticipated. Sir Benjamin was a considerate host and although he was confined to the house by his poor health he was remarkably knowledgeable and the conversation did not flag. Then there was Miss Shawcross. She was a mixture of spirit and adorable innocence; an unforeseen bonus to his plans. Nick realised with a little jolt of surprise that he wanted to know more about her.

Eve excused herself after dinner and went to her room to dash off a letter to her old school friend.

I understand Captain Wylder to be something of a hero, she wrote at the end her letter. But however highly he is regarded as a sailor, I hope you can furnish me with some information as to his character as a man. ‘There,’ she said to herself as she applied her seal. ‘If I know anything of Maria, she will be only too delighted to find out everything there is to know about Captain Nick Wylder.’

Sir Benjamin did not keep late hours at Makerham, so it was not until the following morning that she saw their guest again. It was her custom, upon summer mornings such as these to take a stroll through the ornamental gardens that surrounded Makerham. Sheltered and secluded at the bottom of a wooded dell, the moated manor house was always inviting, but looked at its best in summer. She loved the way the old stone seemed to glow and the golden sunlight twinkled in the leaded windows; it gave the old house a fairy-tale quality. She was wandering through the lavender-lined paths when she heard footsteps on the gravel behind her. She turned to find Captain Wylder approaching.

‘Good morning, Miss Shawcross. You are an early riser.’

‘Yes. I often take a walk at this time; the gardens are at their best with the dew still on the flowers.’

‘Then I will join you, if I may?’

After a brief hesitation Eve nodded. She would not take his arm, but walked along beside him, keeping a safe distance between them. At Nick’s request she pointed out the more unusual flowers and described to him the history of the building. When they reached the end of the ornamental gardens they stopped and turned, looking back at the old house.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said Nick. ‘It is clear that you love Makerham.’

‘It is my home.’

‘But it is entailed.’ At his words she glanced up at him and he spread his hands. ‘Your grandfather told me.’

‘Yes. When Grandfather dies the estate will pass to my cousin, Bernard Shawcross.’

‘And you will have to leave.’

Evelina thought of her cousin with his clammy hands and air of ownership. He seemed to assume that she was included in his inheritance. Eve knew she would do everything in her power to avoid that fate.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I will have to leave.’ The chiming of the bell in the clock tower brought her head up. ‘It is time I went indoors. Grandfather will be coming downstairs shortly.’

Nick accompanied her back to the house, but any plans for furthering his suit were dashed when she announced that they would meet again at dinner.

‘But you will be breaking your fast now, Miss Shawcross?’

She shook her head. ‘Breakfast will be served to you and Grandpapa very shortly, Captain. I have arranged to walk into Makerham.’

‘Will you not wait for me? I should like to escort you.’

Again a little shake of the head. Nick was convinced there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

‘I go to take a little food to the poor in the village. They would not thank me for bringing a stranger into their homes. Grandpapa will be very pleased to have your company for the day,’ she added with a sunny smile. And I shall be happy to know that he is entertained.’