Chapter Three
Deandra stepped into the room, tossed the nightshirt at Captain McTavish, and then took hold of Gladys’s arm and dragged her into the hall. “He can dress himself,” she said with a huff as she slammed the door behind her. “And then he can go to blazes.”
“M’lady!” Gladys’s eyes rounded as she gaped at Deandra.
So what if she wished him to blazes? Did he not deserve it?
Deandra also chided herself because she ought to have known better than to soften toward this rakish sea captain, never mind that she’d heard him refuse Gladys’s advances.
Would he refuse next time?
“He’s a good man,” Gladys said, inexplicably coming to the captain’s defense. “He was kind to me and Florrie, and generous with his coin. He never forced us and he was never boorish or drunk when…”
The silly girl’s voice died out. No doubt she finally understood her explanations were not making this situation any better.
“Go to the kitchen, Gladys. I do not think you are an appropriate chaperone. Ask Mrs. Angel to send Mildred in your place.”
Yes, Mildred would do nicely, because she was well into her forties, and had broad shoulders and a stern frown that made her appear quite intimidating to those who did not know her.
In truth, Mildred was a kind and gentle soul, but that Irish scoundrel did not need to know this.
“Go back to your regular duties, Gladys.”
“Yes, m’lady.” The maid gave a curt bow and scurried down the hall.
Deandra now stood alone with her arms crossed over her chest and scowling. One might think she was pouting.
But she wasn’t.
She was boiling mad, mostly at herself for ever thinking this knave was charming and someone she could trust.
Obviously, he was not.
It was her fault for expecting better from a man like Captain McTavish. Not that he owed her any duty whatsoever, for they had properly met only yesterday when she had found him almost dead on the beach.
Why did her heart hurt so much?
She did not turn toward his door when she heard it open.
“Deandra,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”
“For what? For being found out?” She stubbornly stared down at her toes rather than look at him. “Or are you truly repenting for your sordid deeds?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him.
Dear heaven.
Did he have to look so handsome, even when wearing Draco’s nightshirt that strained across his shoulders because they were so powerfully broad? And she loved the way the reddish curls of his hair softly kissed the nape of his neck.
“At this moment, I wish I could change my past,” he said.
“But I cannot. However, my behavior was never sordid. No one was ever forced and no one was ever hurt. Nor did I ever make promises of faithfulness to anyone. Behaving like an idiot and making stupid choices was entirely my right. And yes, in hindsight those choices could not have been more stupid. But I will not apologize for my past. I was always honest in my intentions and never lied to any of those ladies.”
She frowned up at him. “Is this supposed to absolve you?”
“I don’t know. That is up to ye to decide. My only regret is that my conversation with Gladys was not one a respectable young lady such as yerself should ever have overheard. I’m sorry for the distress and disgust it may have caused ye.”
“But you are not sorry for your behavior?”
“No. Why should I be? As I said, no one was ever forced, nor had I pledged my heart to any lady and been unfaithful.”
She tipped her chin up. “I see.”
“No, Deandra, apparently ye do not. My life until now has not been genteel or privileged. I started with less than nothing and fought hard for every step forward. Learning to survive darkened alleyways makes ye grow up tough and reliant on yer instincts. Life on the sea proved to be even more brutal. My assignments were dangerous. Death always lurked close by. So, whenever I made it onto dry land with no limbs lost and a little coin in my purse, this was something to celebrate.”
“And celebrate you did,” she said, although her anger was dissipating, for he was right.
Who was she to criticize his actions when she had been born into comfort and given the best advantages?
His hard life was unmistakable, for she had seen numerous scars on his body, clearly old ones and a few that were fresher.
Also, there seemed to be wisdom of the ages etched into his handsome face, and his compelling eyes reflected an endurance of harsh experiences. He could not be much more than thirty, about the same age as Draco, and yet had already seen too many evils of the world.
“That casual behavior is not something I intend to repeat going forward,” he insisted. “We do different things at different points in our lives. The meaningless dalliances that seemed right five years ago will not feel right today.”
“But they might feel right again tomorrow.” This was what she feared most, opening her heart to McTavish and realizing too late that he was never going to reform.
“Never will I be going back to those ways,” he said with surprising conviction. “Not now that I have met ye.”
She inhaled lightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I cannot say for certain. Only that I have never desired anything permanent or felt the ache for a wife until meeting ye.”
“A wife?” she muttered with a snort. “You don’t even know me.”
“Ye’re wrong, Deandra. First of all, I’ve heard talk of ye for years before I ever met ye. It makes an impression on a man. A deep impression. Then yesterday, I opened my eyes and saw the face of an angel looking down on me. Soft. Kind. I knew ye were the one for me.”
“Am I supposed to believe that you merely opened your eyes and fell in love with me?”
“Well, I needed to kiss ye first and make certain.”
She rolled her eyes. “You kissed me before you knew who I was.”
“No, love. The tug on my heart was unmistakable. Asking yer name was merely a formality, a confirmation of what I had already surmised.”
She gave a most unladylike snort.
“Why is it so improbable that I should care for ye? Are ye not beautiful, tender, capable, and intelligent? Who could ask for a better partner in life? Yer eyes are—”
“Do not declare they remind you of silver moons! For pity’s sake! Do you think I am that na?ve or stupid? I cannot tell you how often I have heard that drivel. You are no better than the other fortune hunters who pretended to fawn over me.”
She tried to jerk away from him, but he still held her by the shoulders, his grip now firmer but still gentle. “Deandra, why are ye being so obstinate? They were speaking the truth. So am I. What are ye afraid of, lass? Who hurt ye so badly that ye fear to trust any man? Was it yer father?”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. “No! He’s the most wonderful man alive.
So is Draco. I have been fortunate to have the best men in my life.
Even more so now that we have settled in Moonstone Landing.
Imogen’s family has taken me in and considers me one of their own.
Imogen’s aunt, Phoebe, and her husband, the Marquess of Burness, treat me as though I were their own daughter. ”
“I’m glad for it.”
She gave a curt nod. “So you see, I do not have issues with trusting men…only those who are untrustworthy.”
“As ye believe I am?” He sighed. “Where are my clothes?”
“Oh, are you thinking of leaving now that there’s no profit in it for you here?”
McTavish sighed again. “Lass, I could buy this estate three times over. I do not need ye for yer dowry but for yer heart. There’s a letter hidden within the lip of my boot that I need to show ye.”
“A letter? I do not wish to read love letters from your forlorn conquests who believed they were special to you and would always be in your heart. You do realize that letter must be a garbled mess by now, the ink running off the parchment because it got soaked.”
“Actually, it is a letter from a London solicitor, and I had it carefully wrapped in oilcloth to best preserve it on the chance of rain as I rode here to find Draco. I did not expect to be shot and then tossed into the sea. I’m hoping it has survived, but it does not matter whether it remains legible or not.
I’ve read it many times over and can recite its contents by heart.
I hope ye will be able to make sense of it and know I am speaking the truth. ”
“What does the letter say?”
“I’d rather ye read it first and form yer own impression. The solicitor wants me to come to London and meet with him.”
“What is wrong with that?”
He grunted. “Just read the letter.”
She let out a breath. “All right. Is this why you sought my cousin’s help?”
“Aye. I was hoping he could meet the solicitor in my stead, assess the situation, and let me know if what he wrote to me is true. What have ye done with my boots?”
“They are drying in the kitchen. But you needn’t worry. No one has touched your precious letter. It must still be exactly where you hid it, although we did remove a few weapons we found tucked in your boots.”
“I’ll need them returned to me as well.”
“All right,” Deandra said, not certain why she trusted him not to harm her or anyone else in the household.
Perhaps because Draco had always trusted him.
Yes, this must be why she did not feel at all threatened by this man, even though she was hurt and angry that he had bedded silly Gladys.
“I’ll have Mildred bring your boots and weapons up to you.
She’ll be along at any moment and I’ll send her back downstairs for them. ”
“Thank ye, Deandra,” he said with a gentle rumble to his voice. “Would ye mind if I returned to my bed now? We cannot continue this conversation in the hall. Truly, I am going to topple over if I have to stand here another moment.”
“Oh! Do forgive me.” This man had her so unsettled, she was not thinking clearly.
He was injured. And had just survived a brutal ordeal. Yet here she was berating him and generally being inconsiderate when he had been a gentleman toward her for the most part.