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“Oh, I think you do. Living aboard a ship by yourself, you’d no doubt got to thinking.”
How the deuce could she have known that? “Perhaps, but…” How could he explain it when he didn’t fully understand his feelings himself?
“Man wasn’t mean to be alone, Bartholomew. Even Navy men such as you and your father.” His mother laid down her knitting needles. She clasped her hands over the muffler and bestowed a soft look on him. “Though your father was often away on the sea, I knew without a doubt he loved me. The letters he sent were full of that reassurance, and when he came home each time, he was quite amorous—”
“Do stop, Mother. I don’t wish to hear about your love life with Father.” He moved to one of the windows and peered outside. The skies were filled with unrelenting gray. It remained to be seen whether rain or snow would win out. On the sidewalk below, a familiar, black-cloaked figure walked with purpose along the pavement. Where did Miss Cowan go and why? “What is your point?”
“Just this. The sea often took a toll on your father, both in mind and body. Each time he returned home, he was torn about staying and going back for yet another voyage for King and country.” Her voice dropped and lost some of its bluster. “I often thought that if our love was stronger, he might want to stay here with me.”
“Yes, well, I suppose fidelity only lasts so far.” His shoulders drooped. “However, Father was enamored of you until the end. That I know in my heart. Despite his love and devotion to you, the call of the sea was perhaps stronger.” His parents’ marriage was something he’d aspired to in his own life… until his fiancée dropped him as if he were a rodent the second, she realized she could hook a viscount. “In my case, love wasn’t enough.”
“You might have been in love; she was not. Else she wouldn’t have left her morals behind when she chased and married a title.” Disgust threaded through his mother’s voice. “That won’t happen again, though.”
“No, it won’t, for I refuse to allow my heart to be engaged a second time.” He frowned at the pedestrian traffic on the pavement below his perch. “I can’t trust women.”
She harrumphed. “You haven’t tried.”
“Perhaps I haven’t, but there is good reason for that.” When his fiancée had jilted him, he’d been beyond devastated, and that had sent him back to the Navy. As long as he could be far away from England, he was happy.
And so he had been for a while. Then the loneliness had crept in as had the yearning for soft, perfume-scented skin and smoky whispers in the night. The few heated trysts he’d enjoyed throughout the years in various ports hadn’t been able to fill that empty void inside nor quiet the longing to belong fully to a woman.
“Well, all of that aside, I shall entertain this holiday season, and you will remain by my side as I do.” She once more took up her knitting needles. “London is a big city, my boy, and there are many more women than the one who broke your heart. I have no doubts you’ll enjoy yourself before too long.”
He blew out a breath of frustration. “Time will tell.” And he’d be as stubborn as his mother in this. I don’t want a match.
“None of your sulking, Bartholomew. There is much to do and not much time.” She clapped her hands. “Do ring for Snyder.” As he crossed the room to the bellpull, she continued. “Besides, the holidays are needed now more than ever. Miss Cowan is almost in a cloud of worry or sadness at any given time, and you’ve brought young Luke home with you. The boy deserves to know what life holds for him now that you’ve adopted him.”
“Yes, but—”
“Be a real father to him, Bartholomew,” she interrupted as if he hadn’t spoken. “Be in his life as your father wasn’t. It will make such a difference.”
“And perhaps he won’t wish to go to sea?” he asked softly but yanked on the brocade pull.
“Not exactly, but it will guide his upbringing and give him the moral fortitude he’ll need to grow into a gentleman of your caliber.”
Perhaps that was true. “And what of Miss Cowan?”
“You’ll do the pretty and treat her with the respect she deserves. Above everything, she’s still my companion, and I will not have discord in my house this Christmastide.”
“Very well. The butler will arrive shortly. In the meantime, I have a few things to accomplish with Luke. The least of which is having the tailor in. Both he and I could do with new clothes, since your mind won’t change.”
“Good, good.” She waved him off. “Don’t dawdle coming to dinner. I maintain a strict schedule around here.”
Bartholomew took his leave with thoughts more darkly brewing than they were before.
