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Chapter Eleven
December 22, 1817
Bartholomew alighted from the hired hackney cab near the Covent Garden area. Gray skies and grayer clouds met his gaze as he turned up the collar of his greatcoat. Snow flurries danced through the air, for of course the denizens of London would have to pay for the sunshine of yesterday. But along with the clouds came swaths of confusion, for each day that passed sent him into a miasma of emotions he’d rather not examine, and they all stemmed from Felicity.
How was it possible this woman had crept beneath his skin in such a short period of time? Equally baffling was his continued need to spend time with her, talk to her, wish to make her life easier.
By the time he entered The Hat and the Hart tavern, he was properly flummoxed. Relief surged down his spine upon spying his former first mate. “Mr. Farmington,” he said as he reached a stout oak table where his friend sat already nursing a pint. Another sat waiting for Bartholomew. He removed his greatcoat and draped it over the back of his chair then cast his gloves and top hat to the table.
“Please, we’re friends, as close as brothers, and we’re no longer on the ship nor in the Navy.” His friend turned brown eyes on him where amusement danced. “Going forward I’m merely Daniel.”
“Aye.” Bartholomew took a deep gulp of the ale, and once he’d downed it, he heaved a sigh. “It’s good to see you.” Making the transition from life onboard his ship to his existence in London was more difficult this time around. There was no longer a set schedule or a list of tasks waiting to be attended to, which made for a rather less than fulfilling day. “How have you been keeping yourself?”
“Well enough.” Daniel shrugged. His shoulder-length black hair had been tied back with a strip of leather, and from the devil-may-care appearance of his clothing, he looked every inch a pirate from by-gone days. “I haven’t decided what my next course of action will be.”
“I’m very much in that same cycle.” Except he was bedeviled by a pair of soft brown eyes with gold flecks and a pair of lips that would drive him into madness before long.
“So you say, but there’s a different air about you now, Captain.”
“I rather think that’s rubbish. I’m no different than I was last week.”
“I don’t know about that.” Amusement flickered over Daniel’s face. “There’s a certain anticipation in your eyes now that hasn’t been there in a long time.” He snickered as he looked Bartholomew over. Then his eyebrows rose. “Never say there’s a lady in your life? If so, you’re a fast worker for all your insistence you’d never again court one.”
Damn the heat that snuck up the back of his neck. “There isn’t, so get off it.”
“Not until you cease dissembling.” Daniel drank from his tankard. “Tell me what has occurred. The last I saw, you were having a go of it with a harridan about a missing shipment.”
“Yes.” The heat intensified and crept around the front of his neck. Damn and blast. “That harridan, as you call her, is my mother’s companion. I was given the shock of my life when I discovered that.”
His former first mate laughed. “Sticky wicket, that.”
“Truly.” Bartholomew indulged in a few swallows of ale before speaking again. “However, after bickering and sniping at each other, hostilities eventually came to an end. We called a truce, found a friendship, even.”
“I know you better than that, Captain, and I’ll wager you found more.” There was a wicked gleam in Daniel’s eye.
He might as well confess all, since his friend would see through a lie. “I don’t know what to make of it, Daniel. It’s a perplexing problem. One minute I couldn’t stand Miss Cowan, had ordered my mother to terminate her employment, but the next, we’d exchanged a couple of kisses.”
“Oh, ho! What’s this, then?” His friend nearly hooted with glee. “Never say you’re tip over tail for her.”
“I’m not.” That he knew for a certainty. “It’s an attraction. Lust, of course. I never said I was a monk. Nothing more than that, surely.”
“Ah. Surely.” But Daniel’s eyes narrowed with speculation even as he grinned. “Have you done more than kissing?”
“Of course not. She’s an innocent even at her advanced age.” Which truly wasn’t advanced at all. He rather liked that she was nearly thirty and hadn’t been touched by other men. His flush persisted, but he resisted the urge to tug on his suddenly too-tight cravat. “Er, one of those kisses might have been a bit more heated than intended.” Absolutely not would he tell his friend of how he’d more or less laid Felicity out on her father’s desk, fully prepared to stake a claim to her body without care or finesse.
“Rather too randy, are you, to remain a gentleman?” There was no censure in the inquiry, only amusement.
“You know how it goes for men who’ve been on the sea.” It wasn’t an excuse, but he wouldn’t exchange those precious moments with her for anything. “I’ve remained well a gentleman since. I don’t wish to spook her.” Though with each kiss, she was learning. What would it feel like to feel the caress of her hands on him or show her how to touch him, pleasure him? His shaft tightened at the thought.
Dear God. If he weren’t careful, he’d embarrass himself right here in the tavern.
“But?”
“Why do you assume there is one?” He willed his body to settle. She was his mother’s companion for Christ’s sake not a common doxy.
“There always is when a woman is involved.” The man took another pull on his ale.
“However,” he made sure to emphasis the alternative word, “I can’t stop thinking about her as a woman, a person, a friend. I’ve even taken to bringing her gifts as if I was naught but a boy fresh out of university. For whatever reason, the day is infinitely better when she’s in the room.” Quickly, he told his first mate about the offerings, including the crimson gown, which was due to be delivered later this afternoon. “Mother will no doubt have a fit about the dress, but the moment I saw it I knew Miss Cowan needed to possess it.”
