I furrowed my brows. “You know me not at all.”
She grinned at that and arched an eyebrow. “Really? Did you forget that I’ve seen you inmydressing gown.”
The space between my shoulder blades stiffened tight enough to crack. “Miss Blackwell. We agreed never to speak of that?—”
“Yes,” she leaned closer to me, finally looking as though she understood the need for some secrecy. “But I thought I would never see you again. And now you are here, at a house party Mama and I planned with the express purpose of introducing Hattie to some good,eligibleyoung men. Now stop looking at her as though she was going to be the next woman you marooned inside an isolated hut.”
I inhaled sharply. Did she truly think I’d tried to maroon the two of us together in the shepherd’s croft on purpose? Is that why she was so changed from the kind woman she’d been that morning? Nothing could be further from the truth. That night had been a complete happenstance, and a most unfortunate one at that. “I did not ... ” I started and then paused, the rest of her speech suddenly registering.
Harrietwas the focus of this house party? She was the reason the eligible men outnumbered the eligible young ladies? Did Harriet know of it? I spun in my chair. She was, as promised, at the bookshelf on the other side of the fireplace screen, but as far away from the two of us as possible, and she wasn’t alone. Brookhouse, of all people, had come up beside her. He must have said something entertaining, the lout, because she was smiling up at him, a look of surprise on her face.
Brookhouse had been invited here because General Blackwell and Harriet’s parents had thought he might be a good match for her. Davis and Mr. Howard were here for the same purpose.
“I thought your parents must be trying to find a man for you.”
She chuckled softly. “They know better than to do that. I thought I told you to stop looking at her like that.”
Miss Blackwell’s words pulled me back to our little table. “Like I’m going to lure her somewhere?” I had been hoping to get a chance to speak to her alone, but I wasn’t trying tolureher anywhere. “I’ve never lured you or anyone else into a hut.You were there before I was ... ” I paused, no longer quite certain. I had no memories of arriving. I’d tried every day to remember that night, but every recollection was hazy at best and completely imagined at worst. I’d dreamed of that woman in white, of fingers in my hair and warm hands on my cheek, and that woman had Miss Blackwell’s voice and I swear at times that it had been pleading and making promises in the dark. But those must all have been hallucinations. The woman in front of me was the real Miss Blackwell, and she never would have spoken to me in such tender tones. “Weren’t you?”
She crossed her arms across her chest and huffed. “I was,” she admitted.
“You weren’t quite so uncharitable toward me then,” I said. For even if I’d only imagined her voice in the darkness, she had been worried about me that morning, and those memories were solid.
“That was before I knew you had designs upon my cousin.”
So I’d been worthy of help when I was desperate, but not worthy enough to court and marry her cousin. Could Harriet marry better than a captain retired on half-pay? Certainly. But I wouldn’t be a bad match. I had Applewood and plans to restore it. The fact that I’d been invited to this house party at all possibly meant that Harriet’s parents didn’t disapprove of me as a candidate for her hand, even if they didn’t know the promises we’d already made to each other. What made Miss Blackwell so suddenly mistrusting? “Has Harriet spoken to you about me?”
Miss Blackwell’s eyes flashed and then darkened at my use of Harriet’s Christian name. Blast. I needed to be more careful. I hadn’t even called Harriet that when we’d been together all those years ago—she’d always been Miss Pryor. It was only after she’d left her glove that I realized how deeply we’d connected. I’d spent the next years thinking of her as Harriet. “Pardon. HasMiss Pryorspoken to you of her time together with me?”
She lifted her chin. “She has. But only since you arrived. She never mentioned you before then.”
If Miss Blackwell aimed to wound me with that information, she missed her target. Harriet had known as well as I had that my return was not guaranteed. Of course, she wouldn’t mention our understanding until she’d seen me safely returned. “What did she say?”
Her lips pursed together as if the last thing she wanted to do was answer my question. “She said you were upstanding and kind.”
It was a general description, but a good one. Some of the bitterness that had been rooting around in my mind since seeing her smiling at Brookhouse dissipated. “And that was all? She said nothing else?”
“No, that wasn’t all, but none of it was unflattering, so of course I would rather not mention it. But I will say one thing—she called you Captain Calder, not John, and so I think you should respect her by not using her Christian name so casually.”
I winced. “Of course, I shall do so.” And then because for some reason I simply couldn’t allow Miss Blackwell the upper hand, I added, “At least until I am given permission otherwise.” I was impatient for it. No one had called me John in over seven years. I was always Captain or Calder. Seven years was too long for a man to go without having someone dear enough to call him by his name.
One corner of her mouth turned up. “Don’t hold your br—” Something changed in her face—that impertinent corner of her mouth dropped and her eyes flashed briefly to the buttons or perhaps the pocket of my evening coat. She quickly recovered and lifted her half-smile back into place. “Breath,” she said, perhaps louder than she needed to, and then looked away.
Something had flustered her. She kept her eyes locked on the guests who sat on the sofas, but I didn’t have to see those stormyeyes of hers to know she was reliving something of that night of ours together. And based on the way she’d looked at my chest, I guessed it was my breathing.
I’d been in Walcheren.
I’d seen far too many men succumb to the fever. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Those who cared for the sick looked as haunted as those who were ill. I had the strange desire to reach out my hand and place it over hers, to look her in the eye and remind her that I was perfectly healthy now.
But that wouldn’t help my situation with Harriet and she was my main objective here. I couldn’t get distracted by biting remarks and haunting eyes.
We sat in silence for several minutes before I returned my attention to Harriet. She was still with Brookhouse at the bookshelf. The two of them looked comfortable together—more comfortable than we had been. But that was to be expected, wasn’t it? They were meeting for the first time, while Harriet and I had a long history together. It would take time for us to adjust to our new circumstances.
“Don’t charm her, Captain Calder.” Miss Blackwell’s voice landed as softly as the ashes in the fire, and they burned with a heat that was equally hot. “I can see you want to. But I won’t allow it, and I think you know enough about the Blackwell family to understand what that means. If you decide to go back to Applewood and finally give it the attention it deserves, I can give your excuses.”
She was so fierce, like a dragon guarding her long-hoarded treasure. She was still the protective woman I’d seen in the croft, but it was no longer me she was protecting—it was Harriet.
“You’ve been to Applewood?”
