Chapter 14
Hugo stared at the ceiling, listening to Penny's gentle breathing beside him as she seemed to fall back asleep after their quarrel.
What she wanted was insanity. There were hundreds of dangers on his ship that could take her away from him. He needed her to stay on shore where she would be safe.
Would she be, though?
Hugo rolled over, his back to Penny, punching his pillow in frustration. Of course she would be safer at home in England.
She already nearly died simply attending a ball.
He tried to imagine her with him on the Helios, and it was...
seductively easy to picture her there. Adding a few homely touches to the captain's cabin.
Curled against him at night, together in the narrow bunk.
Presiding over the officer's mess, charming the old salts, strolling on the deck with him, consoling the homesick young midshipmen, standing at the rail to gaze out at the sea...
He rolled over again to stare past her into the fireplace. He could just see her shape silhouetted against the banked coals.
The fact that he so desperately—so selfishly—wanted her with him was the precise reason he could not allow it. It would not be fair to his men to have the constant distraction of a wife take him away from his duties.
Better for her to remain on shore than to risk that.
Or…
There was another solution. If he could bear it.
He thought perhaps he could bear anything for Penny’s sake.
The snow had begun to melt.
Penny stared out the window of the taproom, already able to see patches where the snow was beginning to diminish.
She had come down without Hugo, eaten without him.
Now she stood at the window alone, looking towards her future.
The future she had chosen the day she had run away from her wedding, no matter what detours had tempted her along the way.
The stagecoach that would bring her the rest of the way to Carlisle would be able to get through soon, and then she could be on her way to Aunt Nelson's in Bath.
And if Aunt Nelson refused to take her in, Penny would simply return to London and await her parents at their home there. Papa intended to return there immediately after Epiphany, and she would be perfectly safe with the servants around her. Papa would be able to advise her what to do.
She would miss Hugo. Miss him dreadfully. But she would not miss him any less as his abandoned wife, forced to stay behind for months or even years at a time, unsure if he was alive or dead.
No. Staying behind would be far worse. For both of them. Better for him to marry a complaisant woman than one who would be angry every day of his absences.
She felt his presence behind her, and turned her head a little to glance at him. He looked as though he had slept as terribly as she had, dark rings under his eyes and an ashen tone to his skin even under the dark shadow of his beard.
Seeing his anguish, she hesitated. Would she be able to bear it? Live in a house by the harbor, waiting for letters from him? Scanning the newspapers to see if news about his ship sinking was published before the Admiralty could inform her? Not knowing if he was well, or injured, or sick?
She did not fear he would find another woman. His heart had been too loyal to her for too long for her to worry about that. But knowing that he was pining for her while they were separated would make it almost unbearable to have to await his occasional returns and longer absences.
She hardened her heart. Separation would not be any easier simply because of a matrimonial tie between them.
"The snow is melting," he said.
"Yes."
"We can be on our way soon."
"Yes."
"Penny... "
She turned to look at him fully. "I cannot change my conditions."
"And I cannot change my mind."
"Then we go our separate ways, and part as friends."
"'Friends' is not what I feel for you."
She closed her eyes at the rush of pain. Not her joints. Her heart, aching already from the pending separation.
She opened her eyes again and let him see her pain and sorrow and resignation. "I know. But I love you too much to accept being separated from you."
As his expression changed, she turned away, swallowing hard to prevent the tears from coming. What was the point of continuing to argue when neither of them would change their minds?
He grasped her elbow and turned her back to face him.
“There is one other solution. Another compromise I could make. I can resign my commission.”
Penny’s jaw dropped and horror rose in her throat. “What?”
“We are at an impasse. You cannot come with me, and you will not stay behind. It is the only solution.”
“But… your career. You love the Navy. You love the sea.”
Hugo shrugged, clearly trying to pretend to a nonchalance he did not feel. “In the end, it’s not important. Not as important to me as you are.”
He took her unresisting hands in his as she bowed her head in anguish. “What do you say?”
“I… I need time to think. I cannot ask you to make such a sacrifice for me.”
For the first time that morning, he smiled down at her. “It would be no sacrifice if it would make you happy.”
Penny nodded and pulled her hands from his to walk away, mind reeling. She had never imagined for a moment he would be willing to give up everything he had built to stay with her.
What was she to do?
Hugo watched as Penny walked away. Now that the words had been said, he felt strangely peaceful. It was a change he never would have predicted for his life, but he was willing to do it. For Penny.
She would have everything she needed to be safe with him if he left the Navy. It would be a more sedate life than he had planned as they joined the social round, but surely he could adapt to it. He had not lost all of his gentlemanly manners at sea.
There were things gentlemen did. He could join a club. Perhaps politics would be a good fit as an occupation, though he was unsure Penny had any desire to be a political hostess. There would be hunting and fishing. House parties and balls.
If it all sounded a little dull, that was not important. Penny was important—her life and her health.
He tried to picture her living in London, making social calls, shopping at the Arcade, dancing at balls, preferably with him.
Instead, his mind insisted on giving him a picture of how delighted Penny would be the first time the ship was escorted by dolphins that leaped and played as they passed.
Or how she would look as they entered a new port, eager to see as much as she could even if it was from her position behind the rail.
A sedate life would be better for her health. Will she, nil she, he would protect her with everything he had.
Even if it meant never leaving England again.
Penny remained silent during supper, and Hugo seemingly accepted it, keeping up a light patter so she could nod her head while she continued to think. But she kept returning to the same conclusion over and over again as they finished their meal and returned upstairs.
She could not let him do it. She loved him too much to allow him to give up his career in the name of keeping her safe. Not when she knew how fleeting safety could be.
Hugo stood by the clothespress to hang up his jacket. She walked to him and embraced him fiercely. He bent to kiss her, and she flung her arms around his neck, keeping him pinned to her for a long moment before she loosened her grip and stepped backwards.
"You look so ferocious," he said with a laugh. "What on earth are you thinking?"
She paused for a long moment, drinking in his beloved face. The stubble on his cheeks and chin combined with his over-long hair gave him the look of a pirate. The kind of buccaneer who would carry her away with him without a second thought.
But that was not the sort of person Hugo was. He would always think about his duty and the people under his care. That was why she needed to save him from himself and leave.
"It's nothing," she said. “Let’s go to bed.”
She would enjoy what they had tonight and worry about her future tomorrow.
The rattle of a stagecoach in the courtyard brought Hugo abruptly awake, and he reached out to discover Penny was not in bed.
Disoriented, he sat up. Her side of the bed was cold to the touch. Her traveling bag was missing. And her bonnet was gone.
Penny was gone.
He leapt to his feet and scanned the room. No note.
Washing and dressing with haste, he sped downstairs to the empty taproom where Robson stood polishing empty glasses with a melancholy air.
“Where is she?”
“Took the stage to Carlisle, Captain.” Robson nodded to a folded piece of paper next to him.
His name was written on it. The handwriting was clear and crisp as a clerk’s. Captain Dalston.
Fury pounding through his temples, Hugo whirled on the man. “Why did you let her go?”
“‘Twasn’t my place to stop her.” Robson held a glass up to the light with a thoughtful expression, and wiped a smudge away. “I told you, didn’t I? A woman like that can’t be ordered about.”
“What would you know about it?”
The innkeeper laughed. “You think the missus and I was always middle-aged? I tell you, sir, she led me a merry dance, and she’s done it ever since. But I wouldn’t have it another way.”
Hugo stared at the other man for a long moment, trying to order his disordered thoughts. Only one came to the forefront.
“I must go after her.”
“Don’t forget to pay your shot afore you go.”
With a growl, Hugo dug into his pocket and slapped the money onto the bar before whirling to charge back up the stairs. The letter—Penny’s letter—felt as though it weighed him down, slowing his steps as he reached the landing at the top.
For a brief, cowardly moment, he considered not opening the letter at all.
After all, there was nothing she could say that would change his mind.
They would marry, and he would resign his commission, and they would stay in England where he could make sure she would never come to any harm.
Nothing she could write would change that.
He unlocked the door, sat on the edge of the bed, and unfolded the note.
Hugo, my beloved: