Mrs. McVinnie's London Season (45 page)

If the driver seemed
surprised to see a woman alone, he did not show it.

“
Yes,
ma’am,” he said, and tipped his hat to her. “Where’ll ye be bound
for on this glorious afternoon?”

“
Greenwich, please,” she said. She had thought the word so many
times in the last few days of travel that it was a relief to speak
it out loud finally. “Greenwich,” she said again, savoring the
sound of it. “The Royal Naval Hospital, if you please, and do be
quick about it.”

The jehu appeared
disposed to argue. “That’s a long, long way, ma’am.”

“
I
know,” she said quietly, “but I have come all the way from Scotland
and I will not be put off by a jarvey who argues with
me.”

Without another word,
he helped her in and they set off. She had several glimpses of the
river, and then they were across the bridge and on a higher road
that took them past Deptford Hard in such a way that she could not
see the ships at anchor. It was a mercy from God that she could
only be grateful for, even as she ached with exhaustion and
realized, to her surprise, that she had not eaten for several
days.

Foolish of me, she
thought. For Clare’s sake I must remember to put food in my mouth,
chew, and swallow. I shall likely have to remind myself of that
every now and again, but I will get through this, I will. Didn’t he
say I had far too much bottom to do silly things?

They glimpsed the
Thames again as Greenwich grew closer, and she was thankful all
over that she had not come by water. She would only have thought of
the captain, and Edward and Clare, and it would have been too much,
even for a woman with so much bottom.

The sun was setting as
she paid the jarvey; then, on second thought, she asked him to
wait. She squared her shoulders and climbed the steps into
Christopher Wren’s beautiful building.

Her heart failed her in
the high-domed entry. There were sailors everywhere, and she felt
her thoughts dragged backward to Portsmouth again. As she watched
them, she decided that she would emigrate to the interior of Canada
and never run the risk of seeing a sailor again. The thought was
improbable in the extreme, but it put the heart back in her.

She climbed the stairs
slowly, rehearsing in her mind for the thousandth time what she
would say to Caleb Matthews. It would be hard indeed to tell him
that William Summers was dead, but far, far better that he should
hear it from her rather than have it read to him when the next
Naval Chronicles
was delivered. Or even if by chance, the
article was overlooked, better that he should know straight up
rather than spend the rest of his life wondering why his captain
never came back.

And when she had done
the thing, she would ask the sisters how much she would need to
send each month to continue Caleb Matthews few luxuries. It would
strain her widow’s pension, she was sure, but any sacrifice was
worth it. The gesture was the smallest thing she could do in memory
of her dear Will Summers, and she would not neglect her duty.

“
I am
still crew, sir,” she whispered as she faced the door.

Do I knock? she
wondered. It hardly mattered. She opened the door slowly, steeling
herself for the ordeal ahead and wishing again that she had taken
the time to eat something. Her head felt as though it would
separate from her body.

The ward was the same
as she remembered, only the play of light across the beds
different. The room was wreathed in shadows, and it was that time
of early night when the frugal put off lighting the evening
candles. If the Royal Navy was anything, it was frugal. In another
few minutes, the sisters would glide about, lighting tallow candles
for the benefit of those with sight and saving pence elsewhere.
There would be no candles for Caleb Matthews.

Dinner was over, but
the odors remained, and her mouth watered. Oh, I am so hungry, she
thought.

She walked the length
of the ward, and then she saw Caleb propped against his pillow,
paying close attention to the man who sat upon his cot.

Jeannie felt a prickle
of gratitude in her heart. Thank God there were others who cared
about Caleb Matthews. It was good to know that he would not be
alone. Of course, she would still find a way to see him at least
once a year and bring Edward when the lad came home from the West
Indies station.

She stopped. I should
not intrude, she thought. Only look how intently Caleb is
listening, leaning forward. I can stand here a moment more. Why is
it that bad news always keeps?

She stayed where she
was, watching Caleb and his visitor, conversing in the dark. In a
few moments, the sisters came into the hall with their candles. One
by one, they lighted their way down the ward until Caleb remained
in shadow. And then the sister brought a branch of candles and the
visitor turned to move them closer.

Jeannie stared and
swallowed hard. There was no mistaking that profile. She had
memorized it that last night on the wharf in Portsmouth. William
Summers sat beside Caleb Matthews, engaged in animated
conversation. As she watched in wide-eyed, openmouthed shock, he
ran his fingers through his hair and glanced her way.

Jeannie only remembered
the look of amazement on his face as she sank to the floor,
unconscious.

Jeannie twitched her
nose against the smell of ammonia. She moved her hand to make it go
away, and then she heard the murmur of deep voices and smelled that
smell again. She waved her hand at it, and the ammonia went away.
In another moment, her forehead felt cool and damp.

Her ear throbbed with a
life of its own. She put her hand to it and felt a rising lump.

“
I
know what I am doing here, Jeannie my love, but you?” Summers felt
her temple and she winced. “I’m sorry I wasn’t quicker. I thought
you were the sister.”

Jeannie opened her eyes
and stared up into Will Summers’ dear face.

She was comfortably
ensconced in his arms. He smelled wonderfully of bay rum and metal
polish and brine. She reached up her hand and touched his face,
just to make sure that he was real and that her wits hadn’t gone
wandering.

He kissed her hands and
his eyes filled with tears as it suddenly occurred to him why she
was there. “You wanted to tell Caleb, didn’t you?” he asked, his
voice a whisper, the tears on his cheeks. “You saw that monstrous
clipping and you wanted to spare him pain. Jeannie, I’m not even
remotely worthy of that.”

She shook her head,
groaned, and closed her eyes. “Of course you’re not,” she agreed.
“But I love you anyway.”

“
She’s
a rum one, Captain,” said Caleb Matthews.

“
Even
more than I knew, Caleb,” he murmured. “Jeannie, we came off the
blockade two days ago. There’s still so much wrong with the
Venture
, even with that new mast. We’re being drydocked for
four months.”

“
I
really don’t understand any of this,” she said. “You’re not
dead.”

“
Not
yet, and I haven’t any plans along those lines. Quite the contrary,
my dearest, dearest Jeannie McVinnie.”

She traced the outline
of his mouth with her finger. “Please don’t think I am being
forward, my love, but will you marry me?”

“
Aye,
aye. But, Jeannie, I am supposed to do the proposing.”

“
And
you are remarkably poor about it,” she reminded him. She sat up
carefully in his arms and removed the cold cloth from her forehead.
“Caleb, how are you? I’m sorry to have created all this
huggle-muggle.”

Caleb only grinned.

Jeannie smiled back and
kissed the captain. “There, now,” she said as his arms went around
her waist. “I have taken care of all the needfuls, as you would
say. You have agreed to marry me, and you’re quite, quite alive.
Now tell me, sir, how does this come about?”

He kissed her. “Do you
recall those other ships anchored at Spithead that were preparing
for blockade duty?” he asked.

Jeannie thought a
moment, her hand to the bump on her temple. “You went out on the
Atropos
, I think. The
Amaryllis
, the …. Oh, the
Adventure
!”

He nodded. “It caused
no end of trouble on the Channel station, I can assure you! It was
the
Adventure
that broached in a following sea and went
down, not the
Venture
.”

“
No
survivors? That’s what that infamous article said.”

“
Well,
there were survivors, and that may have caused part of the
confusion. The
Venture
was close by and took them off.” He
looked at Caleb. “A tricky piece of sailing, but then, you trained
me to sail ever so close to the wind, Caleb. We were able to take
off some of the crew. Not the captain or his officers,
regrettably.”

“
But
you didn’t write, you didn’t even explain to Larinda,” she
said.

He shook his head. “We
had no idea that the newspaper had latched on to that infernal
piece of misinformation.” He tightened his grip on her waist. “When
we disembarked at Portsmouth, I met some of my brother officers at
the Winston and they showed me that article. I hadn’t heard of it,
naturally, and we had a good laugh.”

He laughed then, too, a
shaky sound that went straight to Jeannie’s heart. “And then it
struck me that everyone I held dear must think me dead. God, what a
moment. I overturned the whist table and nearly got run over by the
mail coach I was trying to flag down.” He rested his chin on her
shoulder. “I suppose my friends will chuckle about that for years
to come. I will not.”

He stared at the
darkening window until he had command over his voice again. “This
had to be my first stop, Jeannie. You of all people understand
that. Kirkcudbrightshire was to be my second.” He rubbed his cheek
against hers. “I’m no bargain, dear,” he began.

She put her fingers
over his lips. “You’re not going to get out of this proposal,
Captain,” she said. “I have a witness. Certainly you are no
bargain.” She laughed and then put her hand to her ear again. “What
one of us is?”

“
I’m
not giving up the sea.”

“
Did I
ask you to?” Jeannie reached over and touched Caleb’s stump of an
arm. “Caleb, it seems to me that I had better leg-shackle myself to
this man immediately before he thinks of a thousand more reasons to
cry off.”

Caleb nodded. “I didn’t
train him that way, Mrs. McVinnie. I always taught him to say, ‘No
excuse, sir,’ and take his medicine.”

Jeannie smiled and
nestled herself against the captain again. “Not every wife is
willing to tolerate a mistress as I am. I know I do not hold a
candle to the sea, my dear, but there may be some little
compensation to marriage with me.”

“
I
thought as much. I have four months to plague you with my company
all hours of the day and night.” He kissed her. “In fact, I think
that the only activity that won’t require your presence will be
dropping a line in one of Galen’s trout streams.”

“
Really, sir,” she murmured, suddenly shy.

“
Yes,
rreally. How do you roll your rrs that way? I shall study the
matter at my leisure.”

She rested her hand
against his chest. “It will be too cold for fishing. I fear you
must remain indoors.”

“
Oh,
too bad, too bad!” He took her hand and ran his fingers over her
knuckles. “You might as well know this, too. Lord Smeath has
interfered in my life again and I have new orders.”

She groaned. “Not
London! I can’t depend on the Beau doing us a favor ever again
after last Season! And besides, who needs a London Season?”

“
No,
no,” he assured her. “Lord Bag of Guts is posting me to the West
Indies station, where I will have every opportunity to oversee
Edward, who, by the way, is getting along famously on the
Calliope
, according to Captain Jones.” He nudged her. “There
is a promotion, too, and the station promises to be a lively one,
with the frogs to watch, and freebooters as well.”

“
Oh.”

“
All
you can say is ‘oh’ and look at me in that dense way?” he demanded,
and then peered closer at her solemn face. “But you do not see the
whole picture, do you, my dear?”

She shook her head.

He paused a moment to
kiss her again and then another time.

“
Really, Jeannie, for one infirm, you are a wonder. I shall
lose my train of thought entirely. Kingston is a grand old town.
I’d consider it a fine thing if I could see your lovely face there
on the dock, and maybe in a few years, other little faces, every
time we come back into port.”

“
Jamaica?” she asked.

“
Aye,
and don’t look at me in that silly fashion. I am beginning to fear
that you twaddled your brains when you threw yourself on the floor.
Jeannie you can share my hammock all the way to
Jamaica.”

“
I
thought you flogged women on board your ship,” she reminded
him.

“
I
will make an exception in your case. Jeannie, I love you. It took
me too long to figure it out, but I do love you.” He helped her to
her feet. “Caleb, you must excuse us. I have to make a visit to the
Inns and procure a special license. If Jeannie marries me tomorrow
morning, and smartly, too, it might be soon enough. Of course, this
means you will be impressed for life.”

Jeannie’s eyes misted
over. She touched Caleb and looked at her captain. “Is there a
chaplain here?” she asked. “Could we not be married here tomorrow
morning?”

It was the captain’s
turn to wipe his eyes. “We can, and we will. And then we’ll spend a
night or two in Suffolk on our way north. I have an estate there,
did you know?”