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Theo plucked at a loose thread on her gown.Simply because a man wished to marry did not mean a woman wished to marry him, she longed to say, but kept such arguments behind her teeth.
“I hesitate to believe a man like Frederick Bellingham would be enough to induce Miss Stapleton to marriage,” the captain said.
Her gaze flicked up and met his, and it was as if he could see inside her heart. But no. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him see her pain. Hurt flared into anger. “You cannot know my thoughts.”
His mouth fell open.
How glad she was to have flustered him. She had no desire to cause tension, but neither would she let a man charm her, ask her about matrimony, then dare presume she could not know her mind. Such arrogance put her in mind of her grandfather, always presuming he knew what was best for people when he barely took notice of them at all.
“Please accept my apologies.” The captain’s voice was quiet, his head slightly bowed.
At his look it seemed a bar of cold iron had plunged down inside her chest, into her midsection, and she suddenly hovered dangerously near to tears. After the barest skim of a glance in his direction, she murmured, “Forgive me, I have something of a headache.”
“Oh, my dear, should I fetch a powder?” Mama wrung her hands. “I’m sure the doctor would not mind visiting again.”
“Thank you, no.” She hurried from the room and up the stairs, flicking at the stupid, stubborn tears, before noticing her grandfather standing in his bedchamber door.
“Theo?”
“Oh, Grandfather. I did not see you there. I hope this means that you are feeling better now?”
“Are you well?” He scowled, ignoring her question.
“Oh, ’tis nothing but a headache. I am just going to lie down.”
“Hmph.”
When it seemed he had no more to say, she begged leave and rushed to her bedchamber. And surrendered to the emotion welling within her for the past hour as her tears finally released.
Chapter 21
Daniel glanced across at his friend and exchanged a silent look as the minister continued on with the sermon. This, his first outing since the accident, had only been enabled by Musgrave’s assistance and had been fraught with challenges. Daniel had to work both to maneuver using his new crutch and contrive to avoid the question of his true identity.
Their late arrival due to the carriage’s difficulty in traversing heavy mud had forgone some of the inevitable questions, for apart from a few in the know, most people here probably suspected him as some kind of servant. Fortunately, most people would be paying attention to Musgrave and the appearance of Seraphina and her husband, which meant he might slide through the post-service chatter without much talk directed at him.
“And now I must digress for a moment, to speak about some practical applications. In the Bible, God exhorts us to beware the little foxes that can ruin the vineyard.” The minister flipped the pages of his Bible. “In other words, beware those little sins that we so easily excuse. Those little darting thoughts we let run free, that we happily ignore thinking they won’t matter, the occasional lie here, the envious thought there, the small count of deception there. Beware, for such sins have a way of being found out, and one small fox can soon lead to a ruined vineyard.”
Daniel’s lips tightened as conviction tensed his stomach. Like a mirror, these verses revealed his all-too-obvious flaws, including the most obvious—his failure to own up to his true identity.Lord, forgive me. Idid not mean things to get quite so out of hand. Please direct my steps and help me put things aright.
He caught Musgrave’s raised brows and offered a wry smile, before returning his attention to the front, relieved to avoid the eye of Miss Stapleton. Her opinion of his cowardice, he did not wish to own.
At the conclusion of the service, he carefully hopped his way outside, his need for Musgrave’s assistance making him aware of all the attention being directed at his friend.
The doctor approached, and after a few pertinent questions, pronounced himself happy for Daniel to consider removing to Mannering and to travel further afield—London—in a week’s time or so. This news, especially after following a letter from the War Office requesting his attendance in three weeks, once would have brought great joy but now fueled more questions and discontent. For how could he leave when so much remained unresolved?
He nodded to the few men he knew but avoided conversation as he made his slow progression to the carriage.
“Ah, Lieutenant Musgrave! Oh, and Mr. Daniel.” A woman’s voice carried over the grounds.
Musgrave shot him a quick look, then bowed as the woman drew near. “Lady Bellingham. How good to see you again.”
“Oh, sir, before you go, I hoped to introduce you to my husband. Yoohoo, Giles!” She waved to a short, wide man of even less hair than what adorned Daniel’s head, who swiftly obeyed her summons. There came an exchange of introductions.
Daniel nodded. Just what would the point of all this be?
“Now my dear husband has returned—he had duties in Milfield, you see, and the recent weather has made travel quite the challenge—well, we would be most gratified if you would deign to attend a meal with us,” fluttered Lady Bellingham. “If we cannot have the man himself, then it would be good to have one of Captain Balfour’s friends.”
“I—”
