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“Enough!” She rapped her knuckles on the tabletop. “These are the facts: Felicity is my companion. Bartholomew is my son. You are both here now, so it would behoove you to find common ground.”
The captain crossed his arms over his chest, which only served to draw Felicity’s attention to the strength contained in those muscles. Perhaps he’d often worked the decks alongside his crew and that’s how he kept fit. “And if we don’t?”
“Then I’ll toss both of you out on your respective arses.”
That was as good a threat as any. Felicity peered across the table at the captain. He gazed back with the same stubborn regard as he’d given her yesterday. Oh, she didn’t like that man at all, but for the good of keeping the peace—as well as her position—she’d attempt to get along with him. “Fine. I promise to tolerate Captain Grayson as long as he stays out of my way and doesn’t interfere in my work here.”
“Out of your way in my own house?” His voice rose with every word. “I won’t have you corrupting my mother. Knowing you, you’ll try to see your way into her will.”
“You… you… addlepated shabbaroon!” Once more she surged to her feet, and this time her chair toppled over to clatter upon the floor. “You soul-rotted jackanapes!” Never had she known such fury as what flowed through her right now on a hot tide. “I would never take advantage of your mother. I have only ever sought to make her life better since I began my employ here, while you…” She took a breath as her chest heaved and he watched her with hooded eyes. “While you’ve been conveniently absent and left her to her own devices.”
He paled beneath his golden tan. “I didn’t choose to leave my mother behind. The Royal Navy doesn’t exactly operate on land, Miss Cowan.” Slowly, as if he wished to wring her neck and was controlling the impulse, Captain Grayson stood. At his full height, she was forced to tilt her chin to keep eye contact. “Do not insult my intelligence or yours by talking about things you know nothing about. In fact, perhaps you should take the remainder of the day for yourself. I’ll keep my mother company.”
“She’ll do no such thing.” Mrs. Grayson whacked her son’s backside with her cane. “Sit down, Bartholomew. I will not have you speak for me.”
With a lingering look filled with loathing, the captain sat. Then he completely dismissed Felicity and concentrated on his mother. “What is it you’ve intended to do today?”
“Visit the shops on Brook Street.” One of her gray-threaded eyebrows rose. “Perhaps it’ll be best if you accompany me in lieu of Miss Cowan. You can carry more packages.”
“Uh.” He tugged at his cravat as a faint flush spread up his neck. “On second thought, I’ll remain here and make sure Luke is properly settled. Perhaps introduce him around the neighborhood.”
“Ha! I thought so.” She poked his shoulder with a finger. “You’re a coward, Bartholomew. And I don’t want you fighting with my companion, so you’d best square with her presence.” Then she rested a speculative gaze on Felicity. “And you, dearie, need to stop baiting my son. Let him become accustomed to being home for a few days before going at him like a hurricane, but I will have peace in this house during this holiday season. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course, Mrs. Grayson.” So chastised, Felicity had no recourse except to right her chair. She refrained from looking at the captain. “I apologize for upsetting your meal.”
“Think nothing of it, girl.” The widow waved a hand. “If you’re finished, let me speak with my son a moment. We weren’t afforded the time last night. Besides, you’ll need to refresh yourself before we go out. It looks like rain is in the offing today.”
“Perhaps I should.” Without acknowledging the captain in any way, Felicity swept from the room, but inside, she seethed with heated anger. How dare that man think to dictate anything about her life or think he knew what was best for Mrs. Grayson? He’d not been in London for over three years. She’d been the one to keep the widow company. She’d been the one to calm the older lady’s fears and worries. She’d been on the receiving end of that acerbic and critical tongue. And she’d been the one to put up with the creeping cold in the rooms. With him underfoot, her position would grow even more tenuous.
Oh, he’s an insufferable pig!
But that didn’t relieve the tightness in her chest regarding her future.
