The Captain's Wallflower (7 page)

“Good. That’s settled then. Shall we say you’ll collect him at four of the clock?” Sir Jeremy offered, keen for the transaction to take place before the Captain could change his mind.

“Are you available to escort me, Richard?” Alexander asked.

“Of course,” Richard said easily.

“In that case, I shall bid you gentlemen good day, and I’ll see you a little later,” Sir Jeremy said, taking his leave.

Richard waited until Sir Jeremy had left the room before speaking to be certain the gentleman was no longer in earshot; he turned to Alexander with a frown on his face. “Are you sure about this Alex?” he asked.

“As sure as I’ve been about anything,” Alexander reassured him.

“And what does Miss Basingstoke think of your scheme?”

Alexander faltered a little. “I haven’t discussed it with her,” Alexander confessed.

“This afternoon is going to be especially interesting then,” Richard said. He wondered about the young woman. She had obviously been going out of doors every morning, every cold and frosty morning no less to meet with Alexander. He was curious about her motives; he had been since that first day they met when he realised she had already been in company with his friend. He could not shake the feeling she had some motive that Alexander did not realise. He thought it would be revealing how events unfolded during the afternoon.

Chapter 7

Amelia was seated as usual in the drawing room in the late afternoon. Lady Basingstoke and Serena sat close to the fire, bemoaning the draughts that wound their way through the house, but Amelia was not allowed to approach the warmth of the grate. Instead she was confined to the colder side of the room.

Always one for making the best of a situation, Amelia had chosen a seat that was tucked out of the way of the draughts and surrounded herself with cushions which added to her comfort. A thick shawl was hidden under a more delicate looking one; the result being she was snug and especially happy to be out of the direct line of sight of her aunt and cousin. She could listen to their conversation while watching the intermittent snow flurries falling outside the window nearest her. The snow was early this year, and it made her long once more for home. Snow was always more welcome when brothers were around to have snowball fights or sledging expeditions; there would be no such happy frivolities for her while she remained in London.

Amelia was startled when the arrival of Captain Worthington and Mr Critchley was announced by Sir Jeremy as he ushered the two gentleman in the room. All three ladies sat a little straighter, Lady Basingstoke gushing in her welcome, ringing for tea and encouraging the gentlemen to sit close to the fire.

“It’s Amelia we’ve come to speak to,” Sir Jeremy explained, indicating that his niece should move closer.

Amelia flushed at the look her aunt and cousin aimed in her direction. “Amelia? What could you possibly want with Amelia?” Lady Basingstoke uttered in genuine bemusement.

“Come, my dear,” Sir Jeremy said with a smile at his niece. His confidence had been boosted by his conviction that his wife would be pleased at the amount he was receiving for the dog and the fact that the beast would no longer be resident in the house.

Amelia approached her uncle cautiously. “Yes, Uncle?” she asked.

“I have some good news for you,” Sir Jeremy replied with an indulgent smile. “You’ll no longer be needed to walk that hound of mine. Captain Worthington here is buying Samson.”

Amelia could feel the colour drain from her face at the news. She looked at Mr Critchley and Captain Worthington; Mr Critchley seemed to be watching her closely while Captain Worthington looked distinctively uncomfortable. Amelia looked at her uncle, “I see,” she said, her words devoid of feeling.

Sir Jeremy was aware the atmosphere had stilled in the room somewhat and blustered to try and overcome it. “I thought it would be a good idea if you walked around the square with Samson and the Captain before he takes him away.” He was trying to cover the fact that he knew they had been meeting each morning. He was sensible enough to know his wife would find a way to punish his niece if she found out the truth.

“I shall fetch my pelisse uncle; I shan’t be very long,” Amelia said leaving the room. She ran up the stairs, angry with herself that once she was out of sight of everyone tears stung her eyes. She slammed the door of her bedchamber, unconcerned who heard the noise and slumped in a chair. Rubbing her hands over her face, she groaned; what had she expected? From the very beginning she had told herself she should guard her heart, but she obviously had not. Her insides had sunk at the words of her uncle; she had hoped that her captain liked her just a little, but it appeared Samson had been the attraction after all.

Amelia stormed over to her wardrobe and, taking out her pelisse with some force, scattered the other clothes from their hooks. She was still doing it, she fumed to herself. He was not and never would be
her
captain; she was just someone who had been useful to him.

She forced herself to look calmer as she descended the stairs. If her bonnet was pulled onto her curls with a little more force than usual it went unnoticed as she concentrated on pushing the anger and hurt to one side.

Amelia entered the drawing room to a scene that could not help but amuse her despite her other feelings. Serena was standing, also dressed in her outdoor clothes, looking afraid. Samson was seated at the left of Captain Worthington but was growling every time Serena looked at him.

Mr Critchley broke the silence. “Miss Basingstoke has agreed to accompany us for a turn around the square, Miss Amelia, even though it is still snowing slightly.”

There was enough information in the tone of Mr Critchley’s voice to betray the fact that something had happened while Amelia had been out of the room. She had, in fact, missed some ill-bred words uttered by her cousin when ordered to accompany the party outside by her mother. Lady Basingstoke would never let snow stop her daughter walking out with a handsome gentleman.

“Shall we go?” Amelia asked, and the small party moved forward. Mr Critchley helped Captain Worthington out of the house even though Samson was firmly by his side.

Amelia led the way with Serena muttering in her ear. “I shan’t forgive you for this; I could catch my death of cold from being out in this weather!” Serena hissed.

“It has nothing to do with me. I want to be outside as little as you do,” Amelia said with a shrug. Her pelisse was made out of thick wool, but she could still feel the cold through it. She had no doubt she was wasting her breath by trying to convince Serena; her cousin took every opportunity to blame her for any inconvenience however irrational her condemnation.

When they had descended the steps to street level, the party rearranged itself with Alexander and Amelia at the front of the group. Before they started to walk Amelia handed the leather strap of Samson’s lead to Alexander. “He may have stayed by your side in the park, but I suggest when you are both in the town he is kept on his lead. If he is spooked by anything he would put himself and others in danger. I would hate him to end his days under the wheels of a carriage.” Her tone was cool and practical. “We can begin the walk whenever you feel comfortable.”

Alexander waited until he heard the voices of Richard and Serena behind him, talking to each other. He did not wish for Serena to overhear anything that would increase Amelia’s suffering while she resided in the Basingstoke household. “Miss Basingstoke, I hope you understand my motivation in approaching your uncle,” he started, for once hesitant in her company.

“I understand, but I’m surprised it was something that you hadn’t mentioned earlier in our acquaintance,” came the clipped reply.

Alexander groaned inwardly; Richard had suggested she might get upset, and it was obvious from her cool tone that she was. He had to do something to make her understand; he had too few friends to alienate even one of them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really want to mention it.”

“That much is obvious,” Amelia said. She stopped walking, and Samson came to a halt. “We have reached the kerbstone at the road edge. Samson needs to learn what to do so that he doesn’t walk you into the road and the path of an oncoming equipage.”

Richard and Serena soon joined them, being only a few steps behind. After a quick assessment of the situation Richard offered a solution. “Get the dog to sit at every kerb then you can listen for the sounds of hooves before you cross.”

Alexander looked unsure. “That’s quite a risk; I didn’t think of taking such a chance as stepping out into the unknown.”

Amelia was still angry with him, but her compassion about his situation was stirred. “Samson is no fool. He wouldn’t willingly walk in front of anything that would harm either of you. If you listen but move and Samson hesitates, then trust him; listen more carefully.”

“What about when I reach the kerbstone at the other side of the road?” Alexander asked. Cursing that he was showing so much vulnerability before the three others in the party, he was quickly coming to realise he had not thought through the reality of being outside and alone with just the dog for support.

“Let’s see what Samson does,” Amelia said. “I will be by your side, so I won’t let you stumble,” she reassured him. The frown Alexander wore and the concern in his expression was rapidly dissolving her remaining anger. She had been selfish by being angry at him because he had hurt her own vanity; of course, he needed the dog for help. She had known that from the start. Condemning him for her own foolish thoughts was uncharitable, and Amelia inwardly shook herself.

“Even if I deserve it?” Alexander asked quietly.

Amelia chuckled, “Not in front of witnesses. Luckily for you we won’t ever be walking alone again. I couldn’t give any guarantees of your safety if we were.”

Alexander’s frown deepened at the thought of not seeing Amelia every morning. He wanted to say something, but needed to concentrate on what he was doing. Yet again, his blindness was getting in the way of his life. Forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand, he instructed Samson to sit. The group was quiet as Alexander listened carefully until he was happy and then stepped into the road. “Over Samson, over,” he said as they walked.

Amelia watched closely as they approached the opposite kerbstone and touched Alexander’s arm. “We’re nearly at the other side,” she said quietly.

Alexander slowed down, but he stepped up onto the pavement without any issue. He smiled with relief as the others followed him. “It was easier than I expected,” he explained. “Samson walks slightly ahead of me, so I felt his body rise up when he stepped up for the kerbstone. I must say that it’s less nerve-racking stepping up than it is stepping down!”

“Let’s continue to walk; we have time to practice on the other roads leading into the square,” Amelia said. As a road entered the square at each corner, they would cross a further three if they continued in the direction they were walking before returning to the Basingstoke House.

The group continued on their slow journey, stopping at each kerbstone and waiting while Alexander gave the instruction to sit before listening for the noise of horses and carriages. Amelia did not speak unless it was needed because she could see that Alexander was concentrating on what he was doing and listening intently to the noises of the street. They returned to the stone steps leading up to Basingstoke House, and Serena rubbed her hands.

“I’m glad that excursion is over!” she said with feeling. “It’s far too cold to be outside! Would you gentlemen like to take more tea with us?”

“I’d like to repeat what we’ve just done, if you can bear it,” Alexander said. “I’d just like to give Samson another chance to practice what we’ve been doing.”

“Do you not have a square outside your own establishment?” Serena snapped. It was obvious that she no longer perceived Captain Worthington as a good enough catch. Amelia was surprised that she was showing Mr Critchley her true colours though;
he
was still an unmarried gentleman and rich to boot.

Richard thought it prudent to do the gentlemanly thing and assist his friend. “If I could take tea while Worthington walks around the square to his heart’s content, that would be lovely Miss Basingstoke. It is too cold to be outside for long today.”

Serena seemed pacified and led the way into the house, leaving Amelia and Alexander on the pavement. “Shall we?” Alexander asked.

“Lead on,” Amelia replied, rubbing her hands slightly; even with the protection of gloves they were a little cold, but she could not complain if another turn around the square would increase Alexander’s confidence.

They walked in silence until the first road was crossed successfully. Then Alexander relaxed enough to open the conversation. “I am sorry I’m taking your ally away from you,” he said quietly. Serena’s behaviour had been impolite enough to give him a glimpse into how difficult life must be for Amelia.

“I will be saddened to lose him, but you need him more than I do. With you he’ll be well cared for. When I return home goodness knows what would happen to him,” Amelia replied, fair as always.

“You’re going home?” Alexander asked sharply. When in her company he could forget she was only a temporary visitor, but her words had jolted the reality of her situation to the forefront of his mind.

“I think three seasons as a wallflower are enough for anyone!” Amelia said, her tone was jovial, but she was disappointed. She had hoped for more, to be married and settled. Returning home at three and twenty, which she would be at the end of the season, would guarantee her confirmation as an old maid.

“I’ll be sorry to see you go,” Alexander said honestly.

“You didn’t know me prior to these last four weeks; I’m convinced you shall cope admirably without me once I have returned to Charmouth.” Her own feelings she could not be so flippant about.

“You live in Charmouth?” Alexander asked. “I have a number of friends who live in Lyme.”

“I’m not surprised; virtually everyone in Lyme has some connection to the sea,” Amelia replied.

“It’s a pretty place.”

“It is, but I don’t venture there much. I tend to stay in Charmouth unless my father has business in Lyme. Then I do take the opportunity to accompany him. There are a wider range of shops in Lyme, and I am frivolous enough to enjoy spending my pennies in them.”

Alexander was once again reminded how different their lives were. Of course the family would not be constantly visiting Lyme; without doubt every farthing had to be used wisely. Trips to the next town incurred a cost. Only people like him, who had made his fortune because of the chances his heritage offered him, could waste money by visiting friends on a whim.

They completed the square, and Amelia came to a standstill at her uncle’s home. “I think Samson is fully aware of what is expected of him now.”