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Musgrave’s indignation soon faded, his conversation returning to the previous topic, thus fueling Daniel’s misgivings. For it seemed the man Daniel had begged to come and visit was most certainly a ladies’ man.
Chapter 19
Daniel’s concerns about his friend’s reputation were further tested two days later, when Rebecca’s birthday dinner resulted in his first removal from his bedchamber in weeks. He despised his weakness that required Musgrave’s assistance for his slow passage down the stairs, but the doctor had earlier relented and permitted such a venture, given the occasion.
Becky’s party had fortunately coincided with the removal of the younger daughter and her husband—whom he still was yet to meet—on a visit to nearby Bamburgh, or so Miss Stapleton had said. “Apparently the lieutenant’s talk of a castle by the sea reminded Seraphina of the need to visit an old friend for a few days. I think she wishes to see if the castle permits tours.”
Interesting timing, given the exchange of sharp words between the younger sister and her husband he’d overheard through the guest rooms’ walls last night.
Still, it seemed as though a cloud had lifted, and judging from the way Becky smiled and chattered and made up to everyone at the dinner table, she seemed very well pleased indeed.
The Stapletons had been kind enough to issue his niece with a charming bonnet and gloves, which she had shown him that morning when she’d visited his room. Musgrave, too, had picked a little posy of wildflowers, which had drawn her blush and made Daniel determine to speak to his friend about unnecessarily inviting warmer feelings from an impressionable young lady.
Becky wore his gift of a skillfully wrought gown, for which he’d thanked Mrs. Stapleton despite the disconcerting knowledge that it made his niece look older than her newly minted seventeen years. And while she looked sweet and pretty, he couldn’t help but notice Miss Stapleton, seated opposite him at the table. Next to the general, Daniel’s positioning was necessitated by his leg, which required propping on a low stool. The advantage of this? His view of Theodosia was unencumbered by the overlarge vase centering the table, with its profusion of flowers.
She wore a gown he’d not seen before, in a blue color that drew out the fairness of her skin while also drawing attention to the fiery color of her hair. Neither was her birthmark obvious, perhaps because the candlelight was rather muted. He wished he might speak to her—she had not visited his room since Musgrave’s arrival—but had to content himself with observation.
She seemed happier without her sister, less careworn, more at ease. He couldn’t help but notice the way she laughed with his friend, and the way her gaze did not linger on Daniel as it did on Musgrave, though her words to Daniel remained polite. He shouldn’t be surprised. Ladies had always preferred his friend to him. Mouth twisting, he shredded his meat carefully with a fork.
“Not a fan of beef?” the general asked Daniel with suspicion, as if he questioned his very Englishness.
Daniel noticed Theodosia looking at him with concern now and, knowing she had arranged the meal—Becky had told him—he rushed to reassure. “I am enjoying this very much.” He smiled at her, but his heart-kick at her returned look of pleasure faded as she turned to Musgrave again.
“I hope you find this to your liking, sir. I cannot imagine what it must be like to encounter various inns and their meals along the way.”
“I can assure you this meal far surpasses anything one might have on the road.” Musgrave suited his words with appropriate action, and a blissful look filled his face. “Have you never travelled, Miss Stapleton?”
“I have not.”
“Not even to the border?” He glanced at Daniel. “Coldstream is not far from here, is it?”
“It is but fourteen miles.” He devoured a bite of creamed potato.
“So near.”
“If one has reason to go there,” Theodosia said, before her gaze returned to Daniel. “I’m pleased to see the potatoes meet with your approval, Captain.”
He swallowed a morsel. “The entire meal is most delicious.”
She nodded, her attention once again veering away to focus on his niece. “I hope Miss Mannering approves.”
“Oh, Theo, it is all so wonderful. Thank you so very much.”
Theodosia’s head tilted slightly to the end of the table.
Becky followed the movement and quickly exclaimed, “Oh, and Mrs. Stapleton, and General Stapleton too! Thank you for giving me such a treat.”
Both parties responded with reassurance that it was no trouble, and Daniel was sure it had not been. Not for the general at least, whose awareness of domestic matters here seemed as remote as Daniel’s own.
Miss Theodosia Stapleton was the one responsible for this. She was the one responsible for nearly all that was good in Becky’s world, actually. A fresh rush of gratitude toward her filled him. How could he ever show the depths of his appreciation?
But how to show gratitude to someone who suddenly seemed to wish to keep him at arm’s length? He would have to ponder this. And pray whatever had caused her to fall from that easy way they’d shared before would soon be put right again.
The drawing room hummed with conversation and good humor. Theo smiled at her mother, then refocused on her embroidery, as across from them the others continued their conversation. The arrival of the lieutenant—and the temporary absence of Seraphina and Roger—had drawn new energy to their days, so much that Stapleton Court seemed to have found a new lease of life. To have someone new to talk to, someone eager and interesting to laugh with, someone to teach her more about the world and experiences she would never know helped assuage some of the sadness that accompanied her renewed determination to draw back from Captain Balfour. How galling for it to be Seraphina’s comment that had ignited fresh realization at the impropriety of Theo’s visits to the captain’s room. How could she have been so heedless, spending hours reading with him, treating him as if he was an old friend with whom she could relax and just be?
She should not. He was leaving. His attention she would not seek. And the only way to lessen the feeling of pain when she caught him looking at her and wanted to hold his gaze was to concentrate on his friend.
Lieutenant Musgrave proved, as she had initially suspected, an inveterate talker. Soon they knew all about his family, who lived in a rather rambling old manor at Thorpe Acre, “passed down to my father when his brother took a tumble while hunting with the Quorn. Goes to show those foxes can be cunning devils—beg pardon, ma’am.”
