Chapter Five
D iana picked up her own candlestick and, shielding the flame with a cupped hand to keep it from blowing out, she followed the housekeeper down the long corridor. “Was it wrong to change my dress before seeing the captain?”
“It won’t matter what you’re wearing, Miss Taylor.” Mrs. Gwynn’s tone was thick with discontent. “I used to dress up in the evenings when my old master were alive. But Captain Fallbrook says we’re not to stand on ceremony, just to be neat and clean.”
“I imagine a great many things are different, now that Captain Fallbrook has taken over?”
“They are.” Mrs. Gwynn’s lip curled, and she wrinkled her nose. “Used to having command of a ship, he is, and we’re expected to obey every order, no questions asked. He be the fifth Baronet of Portwithys, and rightly should be addressed as ‘Sir William.’ But he’ll have none of that! ‘Call me Captain ,’ says he. Got his own ideas about plenty of other things as well, which aren’t right or proper.”
“What kinds of ideas?”
“Well! The master of Pendowar Hall has always come down for breakfast, but the captain wants breakfast in his room on a tray . He eats dinner at odd hours—if he wants dinner at all. Twice now, he’s gone off to town without a moment’s notice and offered no idea of when he’d be back. He sometimes rides to church on Sunday and lets Miss Fallbrook do the same, when there’s a perfectly good coach at his disposal.”
“These are grave charges.” Diana struggled to keep her face impassive.
“Now he’s summoned you to the blue parlor.” Mrs. Gwynn clucked her tongue with disapproval. “It isn’t fitting that a young woman like yourself should meet with her employer without a chaperone. ‘I’ll sit quiet as a mouse in a corner with my knitting,’ I told him, but he’d have none of it. ‘I assure you Miss Taylor will be perfectly safe in my company,’ says he. That may well be! But it’s not right, especially for a man of his reputation.”
They had reached an open central gallery now and the landing for the grand staircase, which overlooked the great hall below. “His reputation?” Diana repeated, intrigued. “What do you mean?”
The housekeeper lowered her voice. “When a man’s unmarried at thirty-two, it tells you something. Clearly, Captain Fallbrook’s not the marrying sort. And from what I hear, he’s got a woman in every port.”
“Does he, indeed?”
“Handsome is as handsome does, Miss Taylor. He might be in a foul humor these days, what with that leg of his, but watch yourself, will you? A leopard doesn’t change his spots.”
Diana had, over the years, observed any number of men who broke hearts, were unfaithful to their wives, and seduced the chambermaids. Her own experiences with men had also taught her to be wary of them. Men made promises they didn’t keep. They professed one thing, when they were after quite another. “I’ll keep my guard up, Mrs. Gwynn.”
“See that you do.”
They proceeded past the gallery to the opposite wing, where Diana glimpsed an immense and well-stocked library. Several closed doors followed. At last, they entered an attractive apartment of moderate size.
The reason for the blue parlor’s name was immediately apparent. The walls were covered in smoky-blue wallpaper with an ivory stripe. Elegant couches and chairs were upholstered in accompanying shades from pale blue to cobalt to sapphire. Candles in silver candelabras topped the mantelpiece and several mahogany tables.
Captain Fallbrook sat reading a newspaper in one of two wingback chairs flanking the carved marble fireplace, where a bright fire burned. During their one brief and disastrous encounter, Diana had not gotten a good look at his face. After hearing Mrs. Gwynn’s warning, she took him in with interest.
He was attired all in black, from his finely tailored frock coat to his necktie and boots. A reminder that he, like the rest of the house, was in mourning. Mrs. Gwynn had called him handsome—and he was, with his high cheekbones, strong jaw, and shock of wavy, dark hair. But the effect was mitigated by the frown on his face. Indeed, his whole being radiated irritation and choler.
“I’ve brought Miss Taylor, Captain,” announced Mrs. Gwynn as they approached.
“Thank you.” Setting down his paper, he grabbed the cane beside his chair and, grimacing, struggled to his feet. His eyes were a startling shade of blue that reminded Diana of the sea at sunset. “Captain William Fallbrook,” he said by way of introduction. “I fear our first meeting, Miss Taylor, was not under the best of circumstances.”
Diana’s wariness was tempered by a stirring of respect. A more egotistical man might have ignored the proprieties and remained sitting, so as not to call attention to his handicap. “It is a pleasure to meet you again, Captain—as you say, under better circumstances.”
“Likewise. Have a seat.” He indicated the chair opposite. Diana sat. A low table stood between them. Upon it resided a tea service as well as a crystal glass filled with what looked like brandy. “Mrs. Gwynn, pour out before you leave, please.”
“Yes, Captain.”
With effort, the captain lowered himself back into his chair. Mrs. Gwynn asked Diana how she took her tea, filled two cups, handed one to each, and with a frown quit the room, taking care to leave the door ajar.
Diana sipped the beverage, which was hot and fragrant. There were so many things she wanted to speak to this man about, she hardly knew where to begin. “May I express my condolences, Captain, on the passing of your uncle?”
“Thank you.”
“I also wanted to say how grateful I am for your help on the road yesterday. You must know—I had no idea who you were until you’d gone, when your coachman informed me.”
He gave her a pointed look. “I was tired, wet, and covered in mud—and in no mood to observe the niceties. My only thought was to get the business over with as quickly as possible so that we could all be on our way.”
She expected him to chastise her again for stepping down from the coach. But he did not. “The weather was grim and clearing away that tree was a difficult endeavor.”
“An endeavor which would have taken half the time, had two able-bodied men been at the task.” He scowled at his bad leg. “As you have observed, I am not as fit as I would wish to be at present.”
If he is indeed a man with ‘a woman in every port,’ Diana thought, it must be a blow to his pride to have been discharged from the Navy with his present infirmity . “I’m sorry.”
Her comment seemed to irritate him further. “I am no object to be pitied, Miss Taylor.”
“I did not say it out of pity. I merely meant that I am sorry to see you suffer.” She didn’t want to pry into the cause of his injury and hoped he would offer the information of his own accord.
But he only said, “Don’t be. I was sent home to mend—it has been more like festering—but it is a temporary inconvenience. In six or seven months’ time, I should be fit to return to duty. Or so the doctors tell me.”
“I am glad to hear it, sir.” Diana paused uncertainly. “Forgive me. I understand that you don’t wish to be addressed as ‘Sir William.’ But what about ‘sir’? Or shall I always call you ‘Captain’?”
“Either ‘sir’ or ‘Captain’ will suit.”
“Very well.” Taking a deep breath, Diana added, “I wish to apologize again for what happened yesterday. My only thought was to be of assistance. Yet in exiting the coach, perhaps… I did more harm than good.”
He waved an impatient hand. “Think no more about it. What’s done is done.”
His answer set Diana’s mind at ease. At least his foul mood wasn’t directed at her.
“However,” he went on sternly, “I do hope, Miss Taylor, that the next time I give an order, you will take it more seriously. I will not accept being countermanded.”
Diana processed that. “Do you mean to say that I must obey your every command without question?”
He stared at her. “Are you truly asking for my permission to be insubordinate?”
“I do not think that term applies.” Diana’s stomach tensed. She sensed that she was getting into dangerous territory and ought not to proceed with this line of dialogue. But her thoughts veered suddenly to a novel that had come out two years previously that she and her sisters had read and loved, Jane Eyre . Diana had felt an immediate kinship with Jane Eyre, not only because they worked in the same profession, but because she admired Jane’s passionate insistence that she be valued as a human being, and for her mind, heart, and soul, not just for the rote feminine labors which she was required to produce.
“This is not the Royal Navy,” Diana charged, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them. “You are my employer, but I am a civilian with a thinking brain and a free will. I should like to think that, if I have a differing view from yours that might, just might, prove a sounder course of action than that which you have ordered, I may be allowed to express it.”
His entire body seemed to tense as he stared at her over the rim of his teacup. Finally, with an annoyed huff, he set down the cup, picked up the glass of brandy, and retorted sharply, “Your feelings are duly noted, Miss Taylor.”
Well , Diana thought with relief, that was big of him. He could have fired her on the spot, she supposed, for “insubordination.”
“So. Emity tells me you took a tour of the house and grounds this morning?”
“I did. It is a lovely estate.”
“It is, indeed.” Oddly, he frowned.
“The gardens are delightful and the house impressive. I like this room in particular.”
“Why?”
“I suppose because blue is my favorite color.”
“Ah. It was my uncle’s favorite room as well.”
“It is very comfortable.” Diana toyed with her hands in her lap, recalling her godmother’s suspicions about the captain. They seemed absurd, but she might as well go fishing. “It must be thrilling to be the master of such a place,” she said lightly.
“Must it?”
To her surprise, he sounded disgruntled, as if his inheritance were a burden rather than a source of pride. “Do you find fault with Pendowar Hall?”
“It is a fine place.” He took a swallow of brandy then shook his head. “But it should never have come to me.”
“Why not?”
“That honor should have gone to Robert, my uncle’s son.” His jaw set. His dark brows drew together. His voice rang with bitterness. “However, the sweet, young lad perished at the tender age of five. ”
“So I heard. I’m very sorry.”
“Most people, I imagine, would count themselves fortunate—extremely so—to find themselves heir to a property as valuable and ancient as Pendowar Hall. But I never wanted it. A house and fortune were never my aim.”
“A house and fortune were never my aim.”
Mr. Heyer had said something similar to Diana when he’d come wooing last year. “I care nothing for houses or fortunes, Miss Taylor. I love you for yourself alone.” Diana had believed him. Oh, how wrong she had turned out to be.
Was Captain Fallbrook’s remark equally insincere? If he truly didn’t want Pendowar Hall, it put paid to Mrs. Phillips’s theory entirely. But there was a peculiar note in his voice and body language that made Diana wonder if it was something he’d felt obliged to say—to appear as the “reluctant heir”—rather than an expression of his true feelings. Or was she reading something into it that wasn’t there?
“Uncle Thomas should have lived a great many more years yet.” Sighing, he went on. “Did my aunt Eliza acquaint you with the manner in which my uncle died?”
“She did.” Diana’s heart beat faster, pleased that he’d brought up the subject himself. “Although… I’m not sure I understand what happened.”
“I’m still struggling to make sense of it myself. It was so unexpected.” He stared into his glass. “And yet… perhaps there were signs I did not recognize.” Regret and grief took over the captain’s face, tinged by something else. Was it guilt?
Diana understood grief and regret. But why, she wondered, should he feel guilty about his uncle’s passing? Unless he’d had something to do with it after all?
Before she could proceed with this line of inquiry, he said, “Enough of that. Let us get back to you. Let me tell you straight out: I have no experience when it comes to the business of a governess. I never had one myself—I attended school until age twelve, when I was shipped off to the Royal Navy. If there is anything you require to do your job properly, I pray you will inform me.”
“I do have one request, Captain.”
“Go on.”
“On my way here this evening, I spied a library that looked quite remarkable. May I make use of it?”
“You are fond of books?”
“Reading is one of my favorite pastimes.”
His piercing gaze reflected his approval. “We have that in common. I bring a trunk of books with me whenever I go to sea. I fear I should be lost without them.” He took another sip of brandy. “The library and all the books in it are at your disposal.”
“Thank you.”
“And feel free to use this parlor in the evenings—as blue is your favorite color—or any other unoccupied room in the house that takes your fancy.”
“I appreciate that.” She was pleased to see that beneath his prickly exterior, Captain Fallbrook was a thoughtful man.
“Pray, avoid the north wing, however, and don’t go near the north tower. It has been unoccupied for decades and is in disrepair.”
Diana nodded. It was her second warning to avoid the north wing. She wondered again why that part of the house had been abandoned but thought it best not to ask. Perhaps the estate was not as financially sound as it appeared.
“Captain,” she said, “there is something else I wished to mention. Last night at about two A.M. , I heard footsteps in the corridor outside my room.”
“Footsteps?”
“They seemed to come up by the servants’ stairs and head in this direction.”
“It was probably Mrs. Gwynn. She suffers from insomnia—a plight with which I am all too familiar. She has a propensity to prowl the corridors at night.”
“I asked Mrs. Gwynn. She denied any connection to the event.”
“I cannot think of anyone else who would have been up at that hour. Unless, perhaps, it was our resident ghost.” His mouth twitched slightly. His eyes twinkled as well.
Diana realized that he was teasing her. It was the first time she had witnessed anything other than a serious expression on his face, and he looked even more handsome for the effort. “I heard about your ghost. Apparently, she is… a mermaid?”
“The Mermaid of Pendowar. An infamous legend—also known as the Mermaid’s Curse.”
“A curse? I should love to hear about that.”
“I would not dare tell it to you, Miss Taylor.”
“Whyever not?”
“It is a tale that you, of all people, would not wish to hear.”
“You, of all people.” Ivy had said the same thing. What was it about the Mermaid of Pendowar that was unfit for Diana’s ears? “If you say so.” It seemed frivolous to spend any more time on the subject. She had more pressing issues to discuss. “Now, I must speak to you on another matter, if I may.”
“What is that?”
“My pupil, Miss Fallbrook.”
“Of course. I understand that you met today. How did that go?”
“Not as well as I had hoped. At our appointed lesson time, she was nowhere to be found. She was discovered on the beach and arrived in an irritable mood. We had barely gotten started when she got fed up and fled.”
He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “I do not pretend to know or understand my cousin. I have been at sea for the better part of two decades. Until these past few months, I had only seen Emma at brief intervals when I was home on leave. But I did mention in my letters to you that Emma has problems.”
“Yes.”
“Aunt Eliza recommended you so highly that I hoped—I still hope—you can make some headway with Emma. But perhaps I should have explained further. When Emma was small, my uncle Thomas said, she showed great promise. But when she outgrew her nanny, she began to falter. A pack of governesses has tried and failed. My uncle’s second wife, Sylvia, was Emma’s governess at one time and she said Emma was difficult in the classroom. That she could not learn.”
“That is untrue. Miss Fallbrook is a bright girl. She has learned a great deal.”
“Has she?”
“She rattled off the Kings and Queens of England without batting an eyelash. She told me volumes about the seashells she had collected and speaks excellent French. I saw one of her sketchbooks—she is a gifted artist. And she makes delightful sculptures out of clay.”
“I am glad to hear it. But rote memorization and artistic prowess do not signify intelligence. Even cavemen could draw.”
Diana bristled. “Cavemen may have had far more brain power than we know, Captain. In any case, despite the accomplishments I glimpsed today—which barely scratch the surface of her talents, I suspect—Miss Fallbrook suffers from a serious deficiency, academically.”
“What is that?”
“She cannot read.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Diana told him what had happened when she’d asked her pupil to read aloud. “She has trouble writing as well. I have not had the opportunity to assess her properly, but when she wrote her name, she spelled it incorrectly.”
“How can that be? She is fifteen years old. ”
“I take it you have not observed the problem yourself?”
“Miss Taylor, I am the new master of Pendowar Hall. I have a great deal on my plate. I do not have time to ‘observe’ Emma’s day-to-day activities.”
Irritation prickled through her. “The two ideas are not mutually exclusive, sir.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“As the captain of a ship you have, I presume, commanded a vessel as well as hundreds of men. Surely, it is within your capabilities to manage this estate and keep abreast of the well-being of one young lady, your cousin.”
Captain Fallbrook’s jaw dropped slightly. His right eyebrow began to twitch. He slammed down his glass on the side table with a bang .
Diana cringed in response. This time you went too far, Diana . Was this the moment when he would send her packing? She was debating whether to apologize when he barked his reply.
“You are an impertinent young woman, Miss Taylor.” His blue eyes flashed. “But I shall ignore that remark for now. I hired you to manage my cousin. And I expect you to do your job.”
“Yes, sir.” Diana swallowed in relief.
“Now back to Emma’s ‘serious deficiency.’”
Diana was about to protest, but he clicked his tongue, reminding her, “Your words, Miss Taylor, not mine.”
Diana clenched her hands, silenced.
“I recall some years ago that Uncle Thomas was worried about Emma’s eyesight—he took her to an oculist in London, but the man could find nothing wrong.”
“There is nothing wrong with her eyesight. I’ve seen her artwork and witnessed her copy an intricate design in the upholstery of the schoolroom chairs.”
He shook his head. “I cannot believe my uncle kept this from me.”
“Perhaps he didn’t know. Or was embarrassed. Or was being protective of his daughter.”
“Do you think her inability stems from a mental defect? Is she intellectually backward?”
Diana’s hackles rose again. “No. I do not believe that for a minute.”
“Well, I believe in facing reality. If it’s true, that Emma cannot read—despite the attentions of any number of governesses—then so be it. Plenty of people are illiterate and get by just fine. Let us concentrate on those skills that Emma does possess.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I believe you mentioned in your letter that you can teach all the finishing subjects, whatever those might be, as well as the sciences, arithmetic, history, German, and Latin?”
“Yes, but—”
“Good. I will make sure Emma attends her lessons on time in the future, and I’ll trust you to take it from there, Miss Taylor.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Thank you. You may go.”
Diana nodded, every nerve in her body tense with irritation. Straining to keep her voice even, she replied, “Aye aye, Captain,” as she stood and quit the room.