Chapter Twenty-Three
The captain turned to fetch the money and, spying them all watching from the stairs, smiled at his niece as cool as a cucumber, as if nothing untoward was the matter at all. “Kindly fetch one guinea and six shillings from my bedchamber, Marianne.”
She did as he asked and there was a long, awkward silence from everyone except the still-barking Norbert while they all waited for her to return with it. The captain checked the amount, then patted Marianne on the head as if she were the cleverest child on earth to have counted it right the first time, and with another breezy smile, he then counted the coins into the man’s outstretched hand. Purposefully slow to vex him while Ada, who had joined them from the kitchen, gripped her spoon as if she fully intended to use it if the intruder dared speak again.
As the last coin was transferred, he folded the farmer’s fingers over them and did not let go. “Can we agree now that the full debt has been paid?” Georgie could not quite fathom what he did, but something about his demeanor had changed. He was taller, somehow. More arrogant and completely in control. So hard-boiled and imposing, she barely recognized him.
“It has, sir.”
“And can we also agree that coming to a house at nightfall, raising merry hell, and scaring my nieces and nephew at bedtime is both rude and unnecessary when we could have had a polite conversation first thing—like decent men? We are neighbors, after all.”
“Well… er…” Flummoxed at being pulled up and more flummoxed that the captain’s hand still held his fist like a vise. “I… er…”
“I shall take that as a yes.” The captain’s smile was icy. Menacing, even. “Kindly apologize to them all for causing such an abhorrent scene.”
The farmer blinked and stuttered out an apology as if he had just been told off by his father. “My apologies, Miss Marianne, Miss Grace, and Master Felix.” Then, sensing the weight of the captain’s disapproval, he turned to the servants. “And my apologies to you too, Tom. Ada.”
“Splendid.” Looking every inch the fearsome commodore of a Royal Navy flagship, he finally let go of the man’s hand and with a fake smile said, “Now disappear before I set our dog on you.”
The man practically broke into a run in his haste to leave, the offending puppy still dangling from his fist as he went. Georgie was on the cusp of running after him to rescue the poor thing when the captain spoke again.
“What are you going to do with the pup?”
Emboldened by the few feet of distance and disgruntled at his thorough dressing-down, the farmer was all belligerence again. “This runt ain’t good for nothing but drowning!” An answer that instantly made little Grace burst into horrified tears and the faces pale on her shocked siblings. As if he, too, understood English, Norbert began to howl at that unfair death sentence, and she watched the captain’s shoulders slump.
“Give him here.”
The farmer dropped the puppy on the ground and stalked off, leaving the poor, terrified thing in a collapsed heap on the gravel. He was there barely a second before the captain scooped him up and cradled him to his chest. Then tried to subtly calm the thing by rubbing its ears while he stalked back, doing his best to look like a man thoroughly put-upon.
Much to Georgie’s chagrin, that kind gesture went some way toward redeeming him when she had promised herself after the whole mortifying dreadful mistake incident this morning that she would loathe him with a fiery passion for all eternity. Hell hath no fury, after all, and she felt rightly scorned as well as thoroughly humiliated. But he had just saved an innocent puppy, so she supposed that rendered all bets off—at least temporarily.
“It appears, children, that you now have a second dog.” He gently held the puppy out, then instantly cradled it close again when Ada’s omnipotent spoon slashed in the air.
“That’s not how it goes, Harry. A dog has to choose its own master. Them’s the rules.”
“Aye, she’s right,” said her husband as if the captain had just broken one of the Ten Commandments. “The poor thing will never be a happy hound otherwise.”
“Like Norbert chose me,” added Felix as if he too knew that there were laws about dog ownership, or vice versa, that the rest of the world was unaware of. “And you did save his life, Uncle Harry, just like I saved Norbert’s, so I think that dog is already yours.”
“Felix makes a valid point,” said Tom again, pointing toward the shaking puppy, who had buried his shaggy head beneath the captain’s smart navy coat. “He clearly likes you.”
“I daresay, to his eyes, any human would be an improvement after that awful farmer threatened to drown him. That does not make him mine. So why don’t we all settle this once and for all by getting this scruffy little mutt to choose which one of the three of you he likes best?” The captain snapped his fingers as he carried the puppy into the drawing room and then ordered the children to line up six feet apart.
With Norbert glued to his hip and staring up at his offspring, not quite knowing what to make of it, he turned the baby dog around to face him. “Apparently, troublesome son of Norbert”—with a perturbed look, he lifted the puppy higher to briefly check that he was indeed a male before proceeding—“these deranged people have decreed that you must choose your master or the delicate balance of the universe will be forever disrupted. You therefore have three fine choices and I’m afraid I am not one of them.” Then he turned him toward the children and wandered past each, allowing the puppy a few seconds apiece to sniff them. Norbert followed before he returned to the center of the room. “Now go choose who you belong to so we can all go to bed.”
He put the puppy down and it looked up at him, uncertain for a moment before his sire decided to lick him within an inch of his little life. That essential canine washing ritual done, Norbert backed away as if he, too, knew that his son needed to choose the human who would be his.
Grace, who had been struggling to contain her excitement since the puppy arrived, immediately began to call him to her. “Come to me, boy!”
“No! Come to me!” Marianne, who was appalled at that flagrant cheating, bent and patted her knees, only to be shoved out of the way by Felix.
“Come on, boy! Come to me! I’ll fetch you a sausage if you do.”
Then, almost in unison, both his sisters rallied against him. “That’s not fair! You have a dog!” Then they looked to their uncle and to Georgie, pleading them to take their side as much jostling and more promising of sausages went on.
“Stop it, all of you! You are frightening him!” Georgie pointed to where the poor puppy had retreated into the gap between the captain’s boots. Then, because the little thing looked thoroughly overwhelmed, she postponed the decision before things got too out of hand. “The puppy can choose his new master in his own sweet time when he is more settled and you three have calmed down!”
Three similar bottom lips all protruded at once and then stuck out some more with her next directive. “Go to bed, the lot of you, and leave him in peace.”
“But Miss Rowe!” Felix stamped his foot. “We love puppies.”
“Cuthbert will still be here tomorrow. But right now, he is scared stiff, has just been separated from his mother for the first time in his very short life, and has been deposited in a strange house by an angry man who wanted to drown him. That is enough trauma for a little one to cope with in one evening, so control yourselves!” Three dark heads bowed in shame. “Bed. Now.” She pointed to the stairs.
“But Uncle Harry!” Marianne, in her true manipulative fashion, sought to undermine that instruction. “If we are good and quiet, we could help make him feel at home.”
“I think that is Norbert’s job.” An answer which none of the children could argue with now that Norbert was licking the puppy again between the captain’s boots. “He’ll look after Cuthbert tonight.” He flicked his amused gaze Georgie’s way at her presumptuous choice of the dog’s name. “Do as Miss Rowe says, or I shall keep the puppy for myself and refuse to let you ever play with him.” He pointed to the stairs too and parroted her words. “Bed. Now.”
He seemed surprised when the children did exactly as he commanded but covered it quickly when he caught her watching. “It appears we have a second potentially mad dog, because one wasn’t bad enough.” His smile was uncertain. “I hope he is every bit as deranged and impossible as Norbert is. That will teach my sister to leave her horrid children in my care.”
“That was a very nice thing that you just did.” Credit where credit was due. “The children wouldn’t have slept a wink tonight if you hadn’t taken Cuthbert in.” As that seemed like the opportune moment to bid a hasty retreat herself, and because he had saved a puppy’s life and that made him significantly less hateable than he had been an hour ago, Georgie spun on her heel to follow the children rather than be all alone with him. “But I’d best go check that they have indeed gone to bed as requested.”
She was about to climb the stairs when she realized he had followed. “Why Cuthbert?”
She turned and, at the sight of the puppy back in his arms having its ears tickled again, felt her resolve to despise him waver further. “As the name Norbert suits Norbert so well, and as he is the son of Norbert, Cuthbert seemed to fit.” She shrugged, more awkward than she had ever felt before. “But please feel free to change it. He is your dog, after all.”
“He absolutely isn’t and…” Suddenly he looked more awkward than she had ever seen him before. “Can we talk?”
“It’s late and it’s been a long day…”
“Please… Georgie.” The sound of her name on his lips did odd things to her insides. “I feel awful about this morning and I need to say some things to make that right. I certainly cannot say them with Ada listening.” His dark eyes uncertain, he used the puppy to gesture to the huge crack in the kitchen door, where the head cook and bottle washer indeed hovered. “Just give me five minutes or I shan’t sleep a wink either.”
“Well, I…”
“Just five minutes.” With one hand, he unclipped a pocket watch from his waistcoat and held it out. “You can time me.”
“Five minutes.” She took the proffered watch. It felt warm, like him. “Then I really do need to go and see to the children.”
On leaden feet, she followed him back to the drawing room and cringed as he closed the door, willing the floor to open up and swallow her to spare her another repeat of this morning’s hideousness. As she had too much pride to let him see how humiliated she was, she perched her bottom on the edge of a comfortable chair near the fireplace and forced herself to look at him and not at her hands. She ensured the watch face was visible to remind him he had only five minutes.
As she had hoped, his gaze drifted to it. “If it is any consolation, if nosy Ada gives us five minutes before she finds an excuse to barge in, it will be a miracle.” He took the chair nearest and tried to put Cuthbert on the floor, but allowed the puppy to nestle in his lap the second he began to cry. He took a few moments to make a fuss of him as a myriad of uncertain emotions skittered across his much-too-handsome features, and then sighed as he lifted his eyes to hers.
“I am so sorry about this morning.” Before she could flick that away, he reached out and caught her hand. Her stupid flesh rejoiced at the contact. “Please let me finish, Georgie. I almost have a garbled speech worked out and I am determined to be honest with you, even though doing so will likely make things even more awkward between us.”
“I am not sure that is possible.” Because his hand on hers felt too good, she extracted it and folded it in her lap in case it trembled and gave away her nervousness.
“I panicked.” He huffed out a breath, steeling himself. “I’d been tossing and turning all night, trying to figure out the best way to say that that kiss could never happen again, and with no justifiable excuse except the unpalatable truth, I lied. I blamed heightened emotions and the fraught situation for behaving as I did and that wasn’t fair. It was a coward’s way out and you deserve better than that.”
“I deserve the unpalatable truth?” Georgie swallowed past the lump in her throat and tried not to look hurt. “What makes it so unpalatable?”
He immediately winced and looked as if he too wanted to bolt, and she braced herself for the reasons which she knew would be truer than him losing his head. She was a penniless governess, for a start, and he was a man of means and standing. Perhaps the fictional and lowly Cinderella might be able to snare herself a prince, but such nonsense only happened in fairy tales. That inescapable difference in their stations aside, unlike the stunningly beautiful Cinderella, she was hardly the catch of the day to begin with. She was short and sturdy, and he hadn’t been able to disguise how much he hated her horrid orange hair since the first moment they had collided at Miss P’s. He was staring at it again now with a pained expression, and only her stubborn, rebellious pride kept her from covering it and agreeing that she completely understood his aversion.
“How to put this without sounding… selfish?” He raked a hand through his thick and neat dark hair and winced some more. “You see… um… the thing is…”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake! Spit it out, Captain, and put us both out of our wretched misery!” She hadn’t realized she had surged to her feet until she saw him blinking up at her.
“All right…” He swallowed, then shrugged. “I am about to fulfill the next stage of my dream—my destiny—and you are a distraction that I absolutely cannot afford. I know what I am like when I am head over heels in love with a woman and, frankly, that is a complete besotted mess.” His unexpected words tumbled out fast, as if they were as much of a surprise to him as they were her. “I cannot think of anything but what my heart desires. Become slapdash and lackadaisical with all my naval duties and…”
“I’m sorry?” Suddenly winded and unstable, Georgie groped for the chair behind her and collapsed back in it. Surely he hadn’t really just mentioned love and her in the same sentence?
He looked both terrified and utterly disarming at the same time. “I’m a sailor, Georgie, and you are… a siren.” He swept his gaze up and down her body, then squeezed his eyes closed as if she were indeed temptation incarnate. “And as much as I yearn for you to be mine, everyone knows sailors and sirens do not mix.”
She had no words.
What on earth was she supposed to say to that? It was simultaneously the most wonderful compliment she had ever received and the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.
The seconds ticked past, and realizing that she had stopped breathing, she let the air out of her lungs in one loud whoosh. “Perhaps you need spectacles, Captain, if you think this—” She flapped her hands at her horrid orange hair, which was well on the way to resembling the full bird’s nest it always did by sundown despite the thirty pins she had poked in it not two hours ago to keep it in place. “—is what a siren looks like.”
“I think we can dispense with the Captain, don’t you?” He choked out a laugh. “You have had your hands all over me, madam, and I have certainly had my hands all over you. We both know that we were moments from making mad, passionate love last night, so I think we are long past the need for formalities… Georgie.” Then, apparently surprising them both, he reached out and reverently twirled a finger in one of the curls that now framed her face. “And this is precisely what a siren looks like. I’ve seen Botticelli’s Venus with my own eyes and she is plain compared to you.”
For the second time in as many minutes, she was rendered speechless. For so many reasons.
The unvarnished reminder of how intimate they had been.
Being told that she was as good as beautiful for the first time in her life.
Because the finger in her hair had moved to caress her cheek and that alone awoke every improper nerve ending in her newly wanton body.
“While I cannot pretend anymore that I don’t want you, Georgie, I wanted you to know why I cannot have you.” He yanked his hand away and fisted it in his lap. “If I had you, I wouldn’t be able to find the focus to get my ship finished and I certainly couldn’t sail away from you—and I have to. Being shackled to a sailor is a miserable and lonely existence, and one that practically guarantees a failed marriage, and that wouldn’t be fair to you either. I can count on one hand the number of my legions of married comrades who aren’t miserable, as absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder. More often than not, it turns hearts cold.”
And he seemed devastated by that fact. “You would end up lonely and resentful of my career and I am nothing without the navy. It is who I am. I wish it wasn’t, but…”
They both jumped as the door flew open with such force it slammed into the wall. “I made us all some cocoa.” Ada shamelessly breezed in, carrying a tray, and then sat herself beside Georgie with a grin as an apologetic Tom skulked in behind, carrying a cake. “Now, what are we talking about?”