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Authors: Lynn Collum

BOOK: The Captain
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She gave him such a trusting smile, he felt he couldn't fail. He would protect her at all cost.
 
 
The sun had disappeared behind the trees as their carriage turned into the long drive of Chettwood Manor. Jacinda fidgeted with the strings to her green reticule as the familiar grounds passed the windows. She spied the family of ducks she'd adored as a young child and was delighted to discover they still resided on the ornamental pond, or at least their descendants did. Several mother ducks, their young in tow, glided to the far side of the lake as the carriage drove along the gravel drive. A memory of her cousin Claude pushing her down the steps of the gazebo near the water flashed in her mind. His sister, Jane, had kicked him in the shin for doing it. She wondered who among her relatives would be at the manor.
As they passed the open meadow, she recalled how Ben's grandfather had taught her to ride. Her mother and Cousin Millie had looked on as if the gentle Snowflake were some dangerous stallion instead of an old Shetland pony. There were so many memories, good and bad, proving she still had a strong connection to this place.
The manor came into view and a strange twinge occurred in her stomach. She was coming home at last. Jacinda stared at the huge building, knowing that things were going to be quite different. Her father was no longer there to see to everything. She would not only be the mistress of the manor but responsible for the entire estate by year's end.
The carriage circled the flagstone courtyard and drew to a halt under a large portico. To Jacinda's surprise, the oversized oak doors opened in an instant, as if every one had been waiting behind it for days. Stritch and what seemed a bevy of servants spilled onto the front stairs, the great hall chandelier lit and casting an inviting glow behind them. They beamed at her as if each and every one had received a raise in salary that very morning.
Jacinda stomach churned as she caught sight of the interior of her home. At first she thought she might be sickening, then she realized what she was feeling wasn't illness, but fear. She shrank back into the squabs, wishing she didn't have to face all these people—servants and family alike. Someone here wished to do her harm. Not only that, they expected her to know what to do: how to run a house, how to run an estate, how to be the lady. This was like nothing she'd ever done.
A hand closed over her gloved fists, which lay clenched on her lap. She looked up into Captain Morrow's kind eyes.
“Where is that fearless young Jack who faced down the King's Impressment service?”
Her gaze darted to the waiting servants, then back to the gentleman. “I think I might have left him in Madame Chloe's changing rooms along with his coat and breeches.”
The gentleman chuckled. “I think not. What made Jack strong is still inside Miss Jacinda Blanchett.”
Jacinda wasn't so sure. Jack's life had been more about the basics of survival: food, shelter, and taking care of Ben. Here she was rather like a boat without a rudder, adrift and uncertain what direction to take with people who'd become strangers. Then the gentleman squeezed her hand and she suddenly realized she had her very own captain to help her navigate these dangerous waters. She gave him as brave a smile as she could muster.
The door to the carriage opened and the butler, whose tone was as staid as usual but whose eyes were alive with delight, said, “Welcome back to Chettwood, Miss Jacinda.”
She stiffened her spine and allowed the old servant to take her hand and help her down the steps. Ben had already scrambled down from the driver's perch where he'd begged to ride after their last stop. In truth, she suspected he'd taken exception to the information that she'd taken Mr. Wilkins's advice and decided to send him to school. At present, he was surprisingly subdued in front of the staff.
“Stritch, 'tis good to see you looking so well and fit.” As the captain joined her, she gestured at him. “I hope you will welcome my husband, Captain Andrew Morrow.”
The old servant did an excellent job of maintaining his composure but there was a soft titter of interest from the maids and footmen that one raised brow from Stritch ended. He bowed formally. “May I wish you happy, madam. And you, sir, are most welcome at Chettwood.”
“And this” Jacinda said, “is Ben Trudeau, Trudy's nephew. He will be staying here in the house until he goes away to school in the fall.” Watching the servants' appalled expressions, her tone took on a hint of steel. “He has been my family for the past eight years and I expect him to be treated as such.”
To her surprise, Ben drew his hands behind him just the way the captain had and bowed. “I am delighted to be here, Stritch. Miss Blanchett has told us this is the best run house in the neighborhood.”
The old butler didn't say a word, but Jacinda sensed that Ben had taken just the right deferent tone with the servant.
“Jacinda?” Cousin Millie interrupted the meeting when she appeared in the doorway and stared at the visitors with nervous anticipation.
Eight years had taken a toll on the older woman. Her hair was more gray than brown now. Lines radiated from her eyes and mouth. Hollows had permanently settled in her cheeks, but still there was joy in her eyes.
“Cousin Millie, it's good to be home at last.” Jacinda hurried up the stairs and hugged the woman, who seemed to be more frail than she remembered, but, then, perhaps it was only that she herself had grown strong.
Millicent placed her hands round her niece's face and seemed to drink in her countenance. “Child, you look so much like your mother it makes me want to weep. I have worried so about you and here you are all grown and ...” she looked past Jacinda at the captain, “according to Mr. Wilkins's most recent letter, married.”
Drew appeared at Jacinda's side and introductions were made. Millicent frowned at him. “Well, young man, I hope your have outgrown that wild streak that we all remember.”
“Cousin,” Jacinda chided. “He is
Captain
Morrow, not some schoolboy.” He was going to a great deal of trouble to help her, not to mention the danger he'd placed himself in. She certainly didn't want her family treating him badly.
But the captain took the jibe in stride. “Just the indiscretions of an idle youth, Miss Markham, I promise you.”
The lady harrumphed as if to say only time would tell. Without another word to him, she slid her arm through her niece's. “Do you wish to go to your rooms and refresh yourselves first or meet the rest of the family?”
Jacinda removed her bonnet and gloves, handing them to a nearby footman as the captain surrendered his hat to Stritch. “That won't be necessary. We stopped in Wells and had supper. Let us not keep the others waiting.”
“Come, my dear, they are in the Gold Drawing Room. We've had word from your uncle that business at present keeps him in town, but he asks that you write and tell him if there is anything you need. Claude is away on business and Jane sends you her best but she won't come until the autumn for she is much involved with her charity with the Widow and Orphans Fund, and thinks as well that you might need time to readjust to life at the manor.” Millie escorted her down the hall.
The room was much as Jacinda remembered it, but she'd seen little of the formal rooms, having been considered still in the nursery. Her Aunt Devere and cousins were huddled together near an open window, the growing darkness still warm from the day's heat. There was a moment's hesitation as the newly arrived party entered the room, as if each group was measuring the other.
At last Mrs. Devere hurried forward, Giles and Prudence in her wake. “Well, Jacinda, you cannot know how we have all worried about you. Have we not Giles? Prudence?” The pair murmured their agreement.
Giles smirked and simpered. “Cousin Jacinda, welcome home.” He looked her over as if inspecting a horse, then he laughed, “Why, cousin, if I'd known you would grow up to be such a beauty I would have been kinder.”
A cool smile touched Jacinda's lips. His new toadying was even less desirable than his old needling of her. Deciding that she must make the best of the situation at present, she merely turned to her companion. “May I present my husband, Captain Morrow.”
Prudence's lips puckered in disappointment. “Captain, you didn't tell us that you were intending to marry our cousin out of hand as soon as she was found. One would think you in need of her fortune.”
The captain smiled politely, despite the lady's tone. “One might think that if one didn't know better. But, my dear Mrs. Tyne, who could think of fortunes after taking one look at my wife's beautiful face. I've come to believe there truly is a thing such as love at first sight.”
He gave Jacinda such a look that she suddenly wished his words were true. Her cheeks warmed and she was relieved when her Cousin Millie suggested they all sit down and she would order tea.
“But who is this adorable child?” Mrs. Devere's words were in direct contrast with the look she cast at Ben.
“Forgive me for forgetting about this scamp, but he is not usually so quiet.” Jacinda slid her around arm Ben's shoulders to leave her relations in no doubt that she held the lad in great affection. She made the introduction.
Startled looks settled over all their faces. Cousin Millie frowned. “But was not Trudy's brother a ...well, that is ...”
Prudence's tone was amused. “Highwayman is the word, madam.”
Anger fueled Jacinda's courage. She had to be strong and not just for herself. “Cousin, if you wish to remain a member of this household, I wish never to hear such again. Ben is my ward and shall be treated as such by all who reside here. He has been as a brother to me since I was thirteen and so he shall always remain.” She smiled down at him and he up at her. Only a blind person would be in doubt of the affection between them.
Mrs. Tyne's cheeks flamed red and she eyed her newly rediscovered cousin with a measuring gaze. “I—I meant no disrespect, Jacinda.” Seeing that her words had little effect, she stepped forward and kissed Ben's cheek. “Welcome to Chettwood. Would you like to go riding with Giles and me in the morning?”
Ben looked from the lady to Jacinda and back. “Thank you, but I fear I cannot properly ride a horse as yet. The captain here has promised to teach me.” He grinned, willing to take the lady at face value.
Jacinda would give him a warning in the morning. But, then, perhaps her cousins had changed. She knew from what Martha had told her that day in the woods that they both had known difficult times. One mustn't be so quick to judge.
“I should be delighted to ride with you once the captain deems you safe to leave the paddock.” Prudence stepped back beside her mother.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, then Cousin Millie took Jacinda's arm and led her to the sitting area. “Prudence, ring for tea. I'm certain we should all like to hear about all that has befallen Jacinda since we last saw her.”
The evening finished with Cook's best efforts to impress as well as an exchange of information. They learned of Jacinda's eight years missing and over the course of the evening she learned that Cousin Millie had run the estate with Weems's able help. Prudence had fallen in love and married a young adventurer who'd gotten himself killed in a duel over cards, leaving her penniless and forced to return to Chettwood. As for Giles, he lived the life of a country gentleman on his allowance, always on the hunt for a wife with fortune and position, always short of funds, and always falling below his mother's expectations. Mrs. Devere's sole purpose in life still revolved around protecting and promoting her children. So, all three were still dependent on Blanchett generosity. As far as Jacinda could tell, it seemed that little had changed since she'd gone away.
CHAPTER SIX
A long clock in the hall chimed the hour of midnight. Jacinda listened to the lonely sound as she stood in her night rail and wrapper. The large apartment where she stood had formerly been her mother's. She'd dismissed Martha only moments before, exhausted from the long evening with her relatives.
Still, she found herself reluctant to retire. Perhaps it was because this room was so full of memories of her mother. Often Jacinda would come early and find the lady still in her bedclothes, writing to friends and relatives or waiting for her only child so she could simply play with Jacinda before her busy morning began. It was a large, well-furnished room with delicate rosewood furniture that her mother had brought with her from her own home. Watered silk paper on the walls with tiny pink roses had been personally chosen by the lady.
Jacinda ran her hand over her mother's favorite inlaid secretary and there was a part of her that felt the lady's presence—a decided calm came over her. For the first time, she felt as if her dear mother were watching over her. It made her feel safe, if not elsewhere at Chettwood then at least here in this room.
A knock sounded and for a moment Jacinda was confused as to where it came from. Then she realized it was at the communicating door between her room and the captain's. In his masquerade as her husband, he was given her father's old rooms. She called for him to enter and he stepped through the door. His gaze swept her from head to toe, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. She wore only her nightwear. How could she have been so foolish to invite him in? What must he think of her? She pulled her wrapper tighter. It was rather a useless effort, for it was a pretty frilly garment, so sheer her night rail was visible through the diaphanous muslin. Mrs. Houston had picked it out, declaring that it was quite the thing.
Jacinda noted he, too, was dressed to retire ... or perhaps she should say undress, as her gaze went to the deep vee of his green brocade banyan. A strange knot formed in her stomach at the sight of bare skin and a tuft of dark hair on his tanned chest. She forced her gaze away, then, thinking herself a coward, looked back to his face. A twinkle lurked in his emerald eyes at her nervous reaction to him.
“You do look ravishing, my dear, and I am sorely tempted, but I have merely come to inform you that Miss Markham wishes to see me in the library at nine to turn over the ledgers and accounts. I thought you might prefer to be present since you shall be the one who will in truth be manager here.”
She bit at her lip a moment, not realizing how enticing such a gesture looked to the captain. “I haven't a clue how to go about managing an estate, sir. Whatever shall I do?”
He was slow to answer. At last he pulled his attention from her mouth. “It's simply a matter of common sense, Jacinda. Besides, you will do fine once all is explained. After all, your cousin appears to have done an excellent job of managing things with little experience. Weems has demonstrated himself a very capable steward.”
“Yes, he has guided my cousin well.”
“If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me. While I'm more familiar with sails and currents, I, too, have been mastering how to manage an estate and will gladly share what I've learned. I'm certain you shall manage things quite well.” He stood in silence, staring at her as if he would memorize every detail.
Her heart pounded strongly in her chest. “W-was there something else?”
“Something else?” He straightened and cleared his throat. “Um, yes, I want you to promise me you won't go anywhere outside the manor alone.” Noting her frown, he took a step closer and his masculine scent tickled her senses. “I promised to protect you, but I cannot always be in your company or the others will grow suspicious. Make certain you are with someone during the day and especially if you must be outdoors. That is where you are most vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable!” The word and all it insinuated pricked Jacinda's vanity. Had she not proven herself capable of handling her own affairs? “Sir, I will have you know that I have taken care of myself for the better part of eight years.” Her cheeks warmed with indignation. She hated that he thought her so weak. She was no fool; she knew there was danger here.
He ran a hand through his hair, tousling the short curls. “Perhaps vulnerable was a poor choice of words. Easier prey. It's not such a difficult thing I ask. Simply stay inside unless you are with someone. There is safety in numbers.”
“I won't be a prisoner in the manor.” She glared up at him. “I have lived in the worst parts of London. I do assure you I can take care of myself. Besides I shall never learn anything if I hide away in my room.”
His green eyes darkened and he grasped her shoulders. “It's not safe; I won't risk—”
She thrust a hand on his chest to force him to see she was her own master. The brocade fabric felt warm, the body hard and muscular beneath. She drew back as if she'd been stung. Suddenly the argument didn't seem important. “I—I will always take one of the footmen or grooms with me if I do decide to venture out.”
For a moment they became like two animals sparring for dominance. Their eyes locked and a strange quiet blanketed them. Jacinda's heart raced as the captain's gaze dropped to her lips. She thought he would kiss her. Anticipation surged through her. To her surprised disappointment, he released her and stepped back.
“Never go without an
armed
footman or groom.”
“I don't see—”
“Armed!”
The single word was obstinate, a command rather than a request, but she detected concern as well.
Jacinda signed. Warmth filled her. When had he become so protective? “Very well, armed.”
“I shall chose a groom and footman first thing in the morning. Each shall have a weapon with him at all times.”
“As you wish.”
He hesitated a moment. She thought he intended to say something more, but he merely bowed. “Good night, my dear. I shall see you in the morning.”
With that he departed the room and it suddenly seemed smaller and decidedly lonely. She could still feel where his hands had gripped her. It wasn't painful, merely tingling. As she slipped from her wrapper and climbed into the large bed, she wondered what his kiss would have felt like. She blew out her candles and settled down, but her mind was unwilling to let the image of the captain go.
Back in his own chamber, Drew stood for a long time staring out the window at Chettwood's moonlit gardens. He pondered their meeting. The desire to kiss her had almost overwhelmed him but he'd feared that a kiss wouldn't have been enough. He'd wanted to run his hands over the soft flesh beneath the sheer material. But had that happened, there would have been no stopping his passion. He tamped down the image of Jacinda in his arms, knowing he would get no sleep if he allowed his imagination to have full reign. Instead, he returned to their disagreement.
The argument had been frustrating. She was, as Ben had said, the most stubborn female he'd ever encountered. A smile tipped his mouth for a moment because he realized that he rather admired her feisty nature. No doubt it had helped her to survive her ordeal of so many years away from the protection of her family. A frown creased his brow. It could get her killed if he didn't keep a close eye upon her.
This whole experience was strange. When Jacinda had first refused to marry him in London, there had been an element of relief in him. Without such a commitment, he could return to his life at sea and leave his father's estate under the new bailiff 's management. He would only have to come home on occasion to see that all was as it should be. He'd always known he must wed for his family name, but after Mariah Amberly had proven herself unworthy, marriage held little appeal. He saw no need to rush into matrimony at such a young age.
It was on hearing all that had befallen Jacinda that he'd even considered honoring the betrothal his father had arranged. He certainly never wanted a bride chosen for him, but he'd accepted that he must set things right and honor that signed document. After all, what was a man if he didn't do his duty?
Yet tonight, standing in the intimacy of her bedchamber and looking at her, so sweetly innocent in garments that scarcely hid her feminine curves, it struck him that Jacinda Blanchett had become far more than his duty. He wanted to take care of her, to protect her, but most of all he wanted to possess her. But first he had to find a murderer.
 
Chettwood's library was a large room with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with the finest bound books that money could buy. Few of them, however, had ever been touched except for dusting by the servants. Mr. Blanchett had been no reader, but like many men with little education and social rank, he'd seen that every great classic written had been purchased for his home. His lady wife had preferred Scott's poetic works of
Marmion
and
Lady of the Lake
and kept those volumes in her room. Cousin Millie declared she had little time for such nonsense. Mrs. Devere read only Minerva Press novels, which she kept hidden from everyone in the back of her wardrobe. Prudence and Giles had never been fond of such an idle pursuit, preferring games of all types. So the room still had the look of a lending library on its first day open to the public.
That morning, Jacinda had no time for the literary treasures that surrounded her as she sat at her father's large desk. It was the one well-used piece of furniture in the room. The fine mahogany top was covered with the estate ledgers. Her cousin and then the captain had gone over each of the books, explaining the entries. Finally, they left her to study them and become familiar with the business of such a large property. Before Drew left, he'd told her he was going to visit his father while she was occupied and urged her to stay indoors.
With a sigh, Jacinda leaned back and closed her eyes. It seemed like so much to learn. Rents and tenants, crops and drainage, livestock and fences, and, lastly, timber and orchards. It would take her another eight years to learn it all. She pushed the books away. All the figures had begun to run together. Perhaps the best way to learn was to see how everything worked firsthand, and she couldn't do that in the library. The clock on the mantelpiece read half past ten. What she needed was a tour of her holdings. She hesitated a moment, thinking of the danger the captain spoke about. Then she reminded herself that no one knew she would be out, so how could it be dangerous so soon after her arrival? She rose and went in search of Mr. Weems.
The steward had finished his rounds and was already in the estate office. As she approached, she heard the murmur of voices behind the door. She knocked and a voice bade her to enter. Inside, the man her father had trusted with his holdings stood bent over, studying something on his desk. Beside him was Libby, one of the downstairs maids, pouring a cup of coffee, gazing at him like a lovestruck child. She started when she saw Jacinda. The little maid's cheeks flushed and she backed away from the steward.
“I—I was just bringin' Mr. Weems his morning repast, ma'am.” She curtsied and hurried from the room, taking one last glance at the man, who seemed oblivious to her adoration and hadn't taken his eyes off the paper on the desk.
Jacinda eyed the man, who straightened on realizing who his visitor was. In her memory he had seemed quite old, but as she looked at him now he appeared no more than five-and-thirty. It was strange how time had played tricks with her perspective.
“Can I help you, Mrs. Morrow?”
“Do I interrupt, Mr. Weems?”
He was handsome, if a bit weathered. Likely all the maids were enamored of him, not just Libby. Jacinda had few memories of him. Like most such men, he rarely was in the manor except to discuss the estate. What she did remembered was he'd always been kind to her, and according to Mr. Wilkins he worked hard for her father.
“No, madam. I was inspecting the drawing for a cider house I've proposed we build. I spoke with Miss Markham about it last year but she wasn't keen on the idea due to the expense. I thought perhaps I would show them to the captain.” There was a hopeful look on his face.
“A cider house?” She stepped forward and looked down at the plans.
“At present we sell our apples to the local cider houses, but we could—”
Jacinda laughed at his eager enthusiasm. It boded well for the future of the estate management that he was so motivated. “Such a decision cannot be made except by Mr. Wilkins, at least until December.”
A frown burrowed into brow. “December? But Miss Markham said that once you married, the estate—”
Jacinda flushed. “She had it wrong, I fear.” This pretend marriage had created problems that she'd little taken into account. Still truly single, the estate was under the guardianship of the solicitor.
“Well, that is only five months away.” The steward smiled as he rolled up the drawing. “Until then, what can I do for you, madam?”
“I was hoping that you could take me round to the tenants' cottages. I should like to meet them. To see the fields, the forest, and the livestock so that I might better understand those ledgers in the library.”

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