The Lady and the Captain (22 page)

“So true love’s course went smoothly for them, after all? They suffered no difficulties?”

“If only it had.” The aunt sighed. “There was this terrible business with an old acquaintance of my niece’s appearing. The most dreadful man I’ve ever laid eyes upon. And to think my Beatrice had once almost been married to him! It truly makes one believe that God is watching over us.”

The old lady shuddered, recalling the sneering aristocratic face of the dreadful Viscount Linley. Although born a gentleman of high birth, he had behaved like a cad of the first order.

“When we are seated, I will tell you all. How it came about that this gentleman troubled her and the brave earl. Aye, such a villainous devil as him chills me quite to the bone. Faith, I shall need that cup of tea you offered, after all. For this particular tale requires a bit of time to retell. Are ye certain you’re at leisure to hear me out?”

She eyed the couple before her uncertainly.

“Most certainly we have the time. Don’t we, Commander Smythe?” asked Sarah, including Robert in the conversation.

She had not missed the admiring glances the old widow cast at Robert. It would be a shame to disappoint her. It was evident she was quite taken with him.

“Indeed, ma’am . . . I shall be most delighted to escort you both to tea.” He smiled charmingly, and leading them down Main Street, they walked to a nearby tearoom.

*    *    *

The tearoom was located in the center of the thriving merchant area of Portsmouth. Lace curtains hung in the shop’s windows giving it a welcoming feel. It was bustling  with activity. The small room was full of women chattering, some of whom were standing at the counter ordering tins of special blends from India, Japan, and China.

Much had changed in the village since Lady Fitzpatrick had lived there as the young wife of a sea captain. It had startled her to see all the fine new structures that had been constructed around the port. The Royal Naval yard, since the war with France, had become an important center of activity for the British Union.

Cupping her tiny hands around a hand-painted piece of fine bone china, Lady Fitzpatrick smiled across at the couple in front of her. Sarah and Robert made a handsome pair. And it had been awhile since she had been among those of close acquaintance who knew her.

“Now, please tell me all the news of Urlingford,” said Sarah when a pot of hot brewing Darjeeling tea was placed in front of them. “It has been ever so long since I heard from anyone. I rarely receive any news.”

“For sure, I will,” said Lady Fitzpatrick.

Briefly, she recounted to them the tale concerning her niece, Lady Beatrice O’ Brien’s, courtship by the handsome new Earl of Drennan. She ended it by recounting in detail the frightening final battle between the earl and the villainous Viscount Linley, the horrible aristocrat who had hired kidnappers in order to try and force her niece into marriage.

‘“I was not there to witness this duel myself, but my brother, Beatrice’s father, retold it to me when they came back safely,” she said, taking a sip from her dainty cup.

“When I found the dagger that had been left on her bed by those dreadful mercenaries who’d taken my beautiful niece—why, I nearly lost my mind. Aye, it gave me such a terrible fright. To think my Bea’ could have ended up at the mercy of that terrible devil . . . it is not to be contemplated.”

“I should say not,” said Robert.

He himself did not dare to imagine the grief it would cause him if such a thing should happen to Sarah. He had no doubt that he would not hesitate to tear such a cad asunder with his own bare hands.

“I cannot say that I am sorry to have missed the earl skewering that evil man. Nay, I have already had in my own life a fair share of perilous adventures. Faith, wherever I voyaged with my dear James, there was always some new horizon for us to discover together, some small pleasure for us to take in and savor. Aye, I suppose that is what I miss the most, the small delights we shared together in each other’s company.”

“Were you not lonely at sea with only seamen aboard for company?” asked Sarah, silently wondering what it was like to be an English sea merchant’s wife. She was curious as to how the genteel Lady Fitzpatrick had managed to keep herself occupied aboard a small vessel, without all the comforts of a normal home and female companionship.

“Captain Fitzpatrick and I were two of a kind, my dear. Kindred spirits I think is what you would have called us. We were so like minded,” said Lady Fitzpatrick, with a small smile, reminiscing. “Aye, he taught me the ways of the sea and how to manage aboard any craft which could float. I learned how to read a sexton and navigate as well as any man. The captain used to teasingly call me his ‘able-bodied woman.’”

“Aye, and in time I even came to take pleasure in cooking over a small stove, which had the habit of burning all the undersides of all the dishes I baked.” The old woman laughed softly in remembrance. “From the very beginning I loved the sea. And being a captain’s wife was as grand a life as any I could have asked God for. Nay, my dears, I have only one regret . . .”

She let out a small sigh, her widow’s weeds sagging about her.

“I should have gone with him on that last voyage. It was the only time we were ever separated. Instead, I remained on shore. The captain had wanted me to find us a cozy place to harbor ourselves in our old age. Aye, that last journey was to have been his very last, and sadly it was.”

“But you have not given up searching for him?” Sarah asked.

“Nay, I have not. I will one day discover what became of him, his ship, and The Blue Star’s crew. It is only a matter of time. I know that one day my search will come to an end. For all mysteries are solved in due time, are they not?”

“For sure now, my lady, they are,” agreed Sarah, meeting the tiny lady’s smile with one of her own. She glanced at Robert, who nodded.

It brought back into both their thoughts the mysteries they had yet themselves to solve. Who had killed John Stafford? And why had Jemima Kaye come aboard The Brunswick disguised as a seaman? And what wrong had anyone aboard done to the ex-harlot to invoke such heated hatred?

Looking at Lady Fitzpatrick sipping her tea, Sarah acknowledged she was grateful that she was not faced with the same heartbreaking worry over a lost loved one. She had the comfort of knowing with certainty how John had died. In this she was at peace, unlike the dear lady seated forlornly next to her.

However, what would have happened if those black-hearted thugs had killed Robert before O’Grady showed up? Her heart squeezed at the thought. He could have been tossed into the harbor and disappeared without anyone being the wiser. It was a sobering thought. She easily could have been in Lady Fitzpatrick’s shoes.

“Where will you go from here?” she asked, wondering where the tiny lady’s wanderings would take her next.

“I intend to return to Urlingford and my brother’s home for a few weeks. As I mentioned, Beatrice is finally going to be good and wed. And I want to be there at the tying of the knot.”

The widow smiled at her, happily anticipating the approaching nuptials.

“It will be the grandest wedding the parish has seen in many a year. I intend not to miss a minute of it. For sure now, I ought not to be boasting, but I did have a small hand in bringing the two of them together.”

“Indeed,” murmured Sarah with a matching smile of her own. She could think of several others who had also played their part in this matchmaking, including in a small way, herself and the bride’s father.

“Aye, the entire village will be in full celebration over the marriage.”

A speculative gleam appeared in the tiny lady’s dark green eyes.

“And you and this handsome young officer will attend, won’t ye, Sarah?” asked the proud aunt, hedging. The couple before her had that look about them, one that silently suggested they might one day become united in holy matrimony.

Suddenly uncertain, not knowing what the lieutenant thought of their coupling by the wee Irish lady, Sarah did not answer. She couldn’t look at him. She hoped he was not displeased by the widow’s obvious efforts at matchmaking.

“We’ll try to be there,” said Robert, smoothly answering for them both.

“Aye, now that would be grand.” The lady beamed, nodding. “I know the whole village is awaiting your return, Sarah. You’ve been sorely missed.”

She placed the teacup down and picked up the portrait of her late husband, preparing to take her leave.

“Well, goodbye for now. And God’s blessing be upon you both . . . until we meet again. Sarah, take care of yourself.”

“And you the same, Lady Fitzpatrick,” she murmured back, hoping the old lady would at last find the answers to her questions.

Shaking the lieutenant’s hand in a final farewell, refusing his gentlemanly offer to escort her back to the rented cottage where she was staying, the tiny lady disappeared into the hustle and bustle of the street.

From a distance, Varrik Island looked tranquil in the sunny sea haze. Small white caps topped the water in front of them. Otherwise, a brisk northerly wind blew and the small puncan easily navigated the dark waters.

Sarah was not certain what the future held for her after this day. Robert had become increasingly quiet and thoughtful since the Admiralty’s review and he had not spoken at great length with her since their leave taking of The Brunswick. She knew he too was contemplating the future and what it might hold.

She didn’t mind the silence between them as they steered the boat towards the island. Looking at Varrik Island off in the distance reminded her of how much she herself had grown since leaving it. The accomplishments she had made allowed her to navigate freely about the world. She had reached all her most cherished goals, except one.

Making a living as a respected village wise woman she no longer needed to hide, to be afraid. She could use her healing abilities where she liked. She had grown into a mature woman of the world, confident in her healing skills. However, there was one thing lacking in her life . . . she had no one to love her, and in her heart she knew she would like to have someone fill that empty space in her life.

Looking up at Robert at the helm, she idly wondered, what it would be like to live with him, to be a permanent part of his life. Would they rub together as well as they did now?

This was a dream she had dared not to think upon. It was one she knew was becoming more and more desirable. It had been a long time since she had dreamt of sharing her life with anyone.

Robert adjusted the sail. The sun lit his dark locks, giving a warm glow to his appearance. Despite the marring of his face from the alley beating, he looked manly and confident. From habit she turned the ring on her finger. Looking down at the small gold heart held by two hands, she pondered her own heart’s desires.

Aye,
I could fall in love and have a family if I want. There was nothing, not even the cherished memory of a dead love to prevent me. It’s my decision. But do I dare? Am I ready to leave my secure position as the respected wise woman of Urlingford village, for the more precarious one as an English naval officer’s lady? Should I abandon all I’ve worked so hard for in order to follow my heart’s leading?

She knew the fork in the road lay ahead. They would either continue to grow closer and plan a future together as a couple, or be separated, possibly forever.

The thought of never seeing him again caused a small tug of fear in her heart. She pressed her hand to it. She knew what she wanted. She would have to tell him soon how she felt.

When they arrived upon the pebbled beach of Varrik Island, Gladys Clogheen and Captain Jackson made their appearance, carrying a wicker basket full of crabs between them. They had just returned from checking Gladys’s pots. A small quarter boat moored nearby. Captain Jackson waved a hand at them and smiled by way of greeting.

Robert surveyed his friend and commander, surprised by the changes in him. The deathly ill man he’d left in the care of Sarah’s mother looked miraculously almost like his former self.

Captain Jackson’s pale hollow cheeks were now flush again with the ruddy vigor of good health. His body had filled out. His skin no longer sagged on his bones. Although still thin from the poisoning, he could tell that the senior officer would soon be hearty and whole again. There was no doubt the good captain had shaken off the specter of death.

“Here, Gladys, let me get this for you,” said the senior officer, carrying the heavy basket to the waiting handcart partly filled with driftwood. “Now why are ye standing there gaping at me for, Smythe?”

“I—I just can’t quite believe my eyes, sir,” he stuttered.

He turned to Gladys and said honestly, “It is a veritable miracle you’ve performed on Captain Jackson, ma’am.”

“What me?” The wise woman laughed. “I had no hand in it, Lieutenant. ’Tis the commander here himself who refused t’ roll over into his grave.”

She shook a finger at the captain’s turned back.

“Nay, sir, he’s about as pigheaded as one of my island goats sitting in a patch of turnips. Stubborn is that man . . . aye, he’s too obstinate to let death take him. I’ve no doubt he’ll wrestle Saint Peter himself on the momentous day he opens the pearly gates for him. But as ye can see, that’ll not be anytime soon.”

Sarah blinked at her mother’s girlish laughter. It was a sound she’d not heard in a long time. She secretly was taken aback by the compliments her mother paid Captain Jackson.

What had happened? What common ground had those two found to base their existing friendship upon?

And what had been the most unexpected surprise was the change of attitude in her mother. Usually, Gladys moaned aloud over how foolish her patients were. This positive report was indeed most unexpected.

Had Captain Jackson somehow managed to break down her mother’s aloof wall? How had he won over Gladys’s cautious distrust of men? She gave her mother a sly glance. She wanted to ask what had occurred while she was gone.

In turn, noticing the odd inquiring look, Gladys responded, “Darling gel, I’m not going to tell you, so, don’t ask. For sure now, ’tis none of your concern, now is it? ’Tis between him and I what happened here while you were gone.”