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“Mother, are you quite mad?” The captain stared at her as if she’d grown two heads.
It was Felicity’s turn to snort in derision. “She’s stubborn enough to do it.” Then she heaved a sigh and once more caught Captain Grayson’s gaze. It was time to be the bigger person and back down. For her employer’s sake. “As much as what she’s proposed disturbs us—” how in the world did Mrs. Grayson think she’d ever consent to let the captain kiss her? — “I believe we all deserve peace, so I’m willing to work toward it if you are.”
For the space of a few heartbeats, the captain looked at her. The December breeze played with the lapels and hem of his black greatcoat. Finally, he nodded. “Agreed.”
“Good.” Her employer cackled with glee. “Now let’s head back to the house. My joints are hurting. You can assist in the decorating this afternoon. I don’t trust the butler by half to carry out my wishes.”
Felicity caught the captain rolling his eyes before he schooled his expression into a mask of polite boredom. “Why don’t you take my arm, Mother. I’ll escort you.”
“No, no. None of that.” She waved him away and did that same with Felicity. “I’ve had just about enough of the two of you.” When she surged ahead of them, she shook her head. “What I need now is a nice hot cup of tea liberally laced with brandy or a dash of whisky. This cold has seeped into my very bones.”
“She’s quite something when she wants to be,” Felicity whispered to the captain, who stood looking after his mother as she made slow progress over the square. “I never know what will come out of her mouth anymore.”
“I can imagine. Her letters were always quite colorful. I’d forgotten how… interesting she can be in the flesh.” He blew out a breath. “And I only use interesting for lack of a better word. She’s quite properly flummoxed me.”
“That has been my world for the past three years.” She laughed and when he shared the amusement, some of the tension between them broke and crumbled. “However, I appreciate your mother’s spirit. For all her cantankerous attitude, she’s still spry yet, and she certainly makes everyone around her dance attendance on her. No matter that she owns a Bath chair.”
“Indeed.” He glanced from his mother’s departing figure to Felicity’s face. “I suppose we should go back as well, else she’ll send some poor unfortunate maid out here to fetch us.” When he offered her his crooked arm, she frowned. As did he. “Come now, Miss Cowan. It’s an escort to the townhouse, not a question for the ages, and I’m certainly not a viper sprung from a packing crate.”
She narrowed her eyes, prepared to fall into another argument with him, then she pushed the urge from her mind and laid her fingers upon his sleeve. Banked strength lay beneath her fingers. Then her mind bounced into fantasy. What would he look like in shirtsleeves with them rolled up to his elbows? But she shoved that thought away too in order to concentrate on the conversation at hand. “Thank you. I appreciate that. The many hidden roots tend to catch me unawares.” When he didn’t respond, she racked her brain to find a topic of discussion that wouldn’t feel awkward. “How are you adapting to being back on land after so much time away on the sea?” It was something she’d always wondered about.
“It’s a process. Quite frankly, I can still feel the waves rolling beneath me and I swear I can hear them slap against the hull of the ship.” He heaved a sigh, and as another burst of a chilly breeze hit them, the scent of the man’s shaving soap wafted to her nose. BayRum, lime, and exotic spices that put her in mind of tropical ports of call.
“I’ve never been anywhere near water except to watch it at the port,” she admitted in a soft voice and didn’t know why she did. “Never have I been to Brighton.” She bit her bottom lip, for to his eyes she probably seemed a dull woman. “Of course, there is the Serpentine in the summer. Occasionally I’d take your mother there and we’d enjoy the fine days.”
“Ah, there’s nothing like the sea, Miss Cowan. It gets into a man’s blood and mucks about until that’s all he wants to do.” The deep baritone of his laughter reverberated in her chest. Remarkably, his lips curved into a half-grin. “It was a good life and one of adventure most times. I miss it, but the best place for me is here with my mother. Especially now that there is Luke.”
“What prompted you to bring him back with you?”
He shrugged, and again the subtle scent of him danced about her. “He has no one in his life outside of me and the mates onboard ship. Easily, I could see myself in his place, and it could have been me had I lost my mother too, since my father perished when I was only a bit older than Luke is now.”
“You’ve shown superior kindness and integrity in taking him in and wishing to care for him.” That surprised her and spoke more to his character than the quarrel they’d indulged in the first time they’d met. “I hope the boy will learn to appreciate it.”
“No doubt he will.”
They walked in silence for several long minutes, and in that time, Felicity studied his face in profile. The cut of his jaw sent silly flutters into her belly. As of yet, he hadn’t shaved off the close-cropped beard or mustache, and she was secretly glad, for it set him apart from many of the men in London. The breeze flirted with his slightly longer-than-stylish chestnut hair, and there was a barely noticeable scar above his left eyebrow.
How had he come by that?
Eventually, he turned his head and met her gaze. “Did you have a question, or would you rather stare at me further?” Faint amusement rumbled through the inquiry.
The heat of embarrassment jumped into her cheeks. She glanced away. “Pardon my rudeness. It’s just that your mother speaks so highly of you I wished to see what she does.” Then she blew out a breath. “Not that it can be found in mere looks. I have no doubts you’re a gentleman beneath your tendency to grouse.”
He laughed at that, and the sound sent unexpected eddies of awareness down her spine. “As if you’re the most pleasant woman in London. Not exactly the congenial miss Mother wrote about in her letters.”
Mrs. Grayson had mentioned her? Of course she would. “I do have a temper, I’m afraid. It’s one of the things I inherited from my father.” A grudging grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. “And I suppose I have no choice but to cultivate it, for living with your mother requires a fair amount of spirit, as does trying to find a place in a world that isn’t kind to unattached females.”
Why did she confide that to him?
“I can only imagine, but take heart, Miss Cowan. My mother only tolerates those who hold their own around her, so you’ve passed with flying colors.” Up ahead, Mrs. Grayson had already gained the pavement that would eventually lead to her townhouse. “If she didn’t like you, she would have turned you out within the first month.” He chuckled as if he’d been all too familiar with his mother’s habits. “She must be fond of you, for a quarter of each letter she wrote contained news and interesting bits regarding you.”
“Oh, dear.” The heat in cheeks intensified. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Consider it a compliment, for she didn’t rake you over the coals and neither did she eviscerate your character in her writings. That’s saying something.” This time when he grinned and caught her gaze, amusement twinkled in the blue depths of his eyes. “It takes a special sort of person to get on with Mother. I only hope Luke will prove that.”
“So do I.” She gripped his arm more tightly when the toe of her half-boot caught in a root. “If you should wish for someone to help Luke with reading or writing, I’m happy to offer. It will pass the time, in any event, for I’m not fond of being thrust into social situations, and in this I’ll remain adamant despite your mother.”
He snorted with laughter. “You and me both, Miss Cowan. And thank you. I think it would be good for Luke to start work immediately. I’d like him to be ready for the school term next autumn, for I don’t think even you can work miracles enough for him to go after winter holidays conclude.”
“No, I don’t suppose I can,” she murmured but couldn’t halt a budding smile. “Later this evening I’ll run down a few houses and see about borrowing primers from one of my friends who has children.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Truly, it’s not a bother.” And at least she could spend time with the boy. It might be the only opportunity she’d have to use her nurturing instincts on a child, and perhaps it would quiet the unrelenting longing in her soul.
