by Diane Gaston
They sat in the same chairs as the previous visit.
‘This time I promise not to stay so long,’ he said.
She averted her face.
He had difficulty dreaming up conversation. ‘Where is Reilly today?’
‘He and Toby—the footman—are doing errands for me.’
She did not seem inclined to elaborate so he had to come up with something else. ‘And the lovebirds? Where are they?’
‘Blanche and Mr Yost?’ She glanced towards the door. ‘Blanche went to the shops.’ She paused briefly. ‘I would not be surprised if Mr Yost also finds a sudden need to shop.’
‘This sounds like a serious romance.’ And also an opening for him to do Sidmouth’s bidding.
She smiled. ‘Yes. Is it not lovely?’
‘As long as Yost’s political beliefs do not cause him trouble.’ He felt like a cad, but tried to cover it by matching her light tone.
Her smile fled and her expression turned serious. ‘Will you cause Mr Yost trouble for his beliefs, Captain?’
‘A man is still free to believe as he wishes.’ He hated trying to pump her for information. ‘But what he does must be within the law.’
‘Within the law,’ she repeated solemnly. ‘I do not forget you work for Lord Sidmouth.’
Neither do I, he thought. ‘I am sorry, Marian. I like Yost even if we disagree on some matters—’
He was about to ask her what she knew of Yost’s activities when the knocker on the front door sounded and loud voices came from the hallway. Allan started for the door when it burst open revealing the maid.
‘This man came in!’ the woman cried. ‘I opened the door and he came in and would not leave.’
Allan ran out of the room with Marian behind him.
A man was seated on the stairs, his head leaning against the banister. Allan rushed over and turned him around to see his face.
‘Edwin!’ Marian cried.
Chapter Fourteen
Marian stared down at her cousin. His clothes were rumpled and he smelled of spirits and vomit.
He opened his eyes, but they seemed unable to focus. ‘Greetings, Marian!’ he slurred.
She glared at him. ‘You are drunk.’
He made a soundless laugh. ‘Drunk as a wheelbarrow.’
‘Get up.’ The captain pulled Edwin off the stairs.
‘Whoa!’ Edwin pushed him away and grabbed for the banister. ‘Can do it m’self.’ Comprehension dawned on his face and he pointed at the captain. ‘You! You are not ‘sposed to be here.’
The captain seized Edwin’s coat lapels and leaned close. ‘Thought you were rid of me, did you?’
‘Yes!’ Edwin’s reply was high-pitched.
The captain dragged him to the door.
‘Leggo!’ Edwin shoved the Captain away and staggered towards Marian. ‘Marian, wanted to see you.’
‘Not like this, Edwin!’ She was furious at him. For coming to her house drunk. For lying to her about the captain, but she could not discuss it will him in such a state. ‘You have to leave.’
The captain grabbed for his arm again, but Edwin twisted away.
‘Can’t make me go!’ Edwin pointed to the captain again. ‘Make him leave.’
‘He is not drunk,’ she retorted. ‘You are. I want you out.’
His scarred face contorted. ‘No! Want him out. I stay.’
He lunged at her and she cried out in alarm.
The captain seized him from behind and pulled him away from her. Edwin landed on the floor. His face contorted in anger and he rose up again, a frenzy of fists, wailing like a child. He groped for the captain’s throat, but the captain shoved him away. Edwin staggered back, hitting the wall and falling against a table that shattered beneath him.
He lay still.
‘Oh, my God!’ Marian stared at him. ‘Is he dead?’
The captain leaned down and felt for a pulse. ‘Passed out.’
Marian sank down on the stairs. ‘What am I going to do with him?’
The captain still laboured to catch his breath. ‘I can put him in a hackney coach and send him home.’
‘I have no idea where he is staying.’ She had not even known Edwin was in London.
‘Would he not be staying at your uncle’s town house?’
‘I cannot think he would be. He and my uncle had a big row.’ Last she heard from the former Mrs Vernon, now Lady Tranville, was that Edwin was not welcome in any of his father’s houses.
The captain straightened his coat. ‘I could carry him into the park and leave him on a bench.’
‘Surely not.’
He gave her a direct look. ‘I’m quite serious.’
She was so angry at Edwin she could almost agree with this plan.
She stood. ‘I am tempted to say yes, but something might happen and I would never forgive myself. I suppose he must stay here until he sobers up.’
The captain gave her a steady look. ‘Marian, that is not wise.’
She waved a hand in exasperation. ‘What choice do I have?’
‘He cannot stay here.’ His tone was insistent.
‘No one could possibly object,’ she went on. ‘Edwin is a relation of mine. Besides, who would know? My servants will not talk of it.’
The captain rubbed his brow. ‘That is not the point.’ He crossed the hall and placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes. ‘You cannot have him here because he is dangerous.’
‘He’s unconscious!’
His grip tightened. ‘He might rouse at any moment. You saw him! And he could get much worse. The alcohol makes him out of his mind.’
She looked down at Edwin. ‘I have seen him deep in his cups. He becomes silly or maudlin.’
The captain stared at her for a long time before speaking in a low voice. ‘I have seen him become violent.’ His fingers pressed into her shoulders. ‘You must believe me.’
She remembered the captain had warned her of Edwin before. ‘I believe you, Captain. But I have no choice. I cannot leave him in the park to attack someone else.’
He released a frustrated breath and let go of her. ‘Post Reilly outside his door, then.’
She looked up at him with chagrin. ‘Reilly is out of town and will not return until tomorrow.’ Reilly was delivering messages about the march to their contacts outside the city. ‘Toby, my footman, will be here, but he is a small man and he has only one leg.’
‘That won’t do.’ Allan stared down at the floor before directing his gaze back at her. ‘I will stay.’
‘No—’ she started to protest, but he placed his fingers on her lips.
‘If Edwin’s presence would remain unknown, then mine will, as well.’ His gaze pierced into her. ‘I will stay.’
His closeness made Marian light-headed, as giddy as if she’d been spun around. She inhaled deeply. ‘Very well, Captain.’
He smiled at her.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why are you smiling?’ Had he noticed his effect on her?
‘You persist in calling me Captain.’
‘It is how I know you,’ she murmured. It was how she preferred to think of him, not as a man doing Sidmouth’s work. She cleared her throat. ‘There is a spare bedroom above stairs, but how do we get him there?’
‘I’ll carry him.’ He crouched down and hoisted Edwin over his shoulder as if he’d done such a thing before.
The maid peered around the corner. ‘Has he gone?’
‘No, but it is safe to come out, Hannah,’ Marian told her.
The maid crept into the hall and saw the captain carrying Edwin up the stairs. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ she exclaimed.
‘He is quite harmless now,’ Marian assured her. ‘He is my cousin and I’m afraid he must stay here to sleep off the drink. Run ahead, please, and put fresh linens on the bed in the spare bedroom.’
Hannah rushed past the captain, who’d reached the first flight of stairs. She’d managed to strip the old covers from the bed and tucked in
a fresh sheet by the time Marian led the captain into the room to unceremoniously drop Edwin on to the bed.
‘He smells foul.’ Marian covered her nose with her hand. ‘Can we take off his clothing?’
‘I’ll do it,’ Captain Landon said.
Hannah put a hand on his arm. ‘I’ll help you, sir. After raising two boys of my own, I won’t see anything I have not seen before.’ Hannah had lost one of those sons to the war, in addition to losing her husband. The other son still marched to the drum.
‘Thank you, Hannah,’ the captain said.
‘I’ll find some nightclothes.’ Marian would not intrude upon Reilly’s or Toby’s rooms without their permission, so she ran next door to Yost’s house, even though she knew Yost was out.
She and Yost had been meeting to discuss the march when the captain called. At Mr Hunt’s suggestion, Marian and Yost had organised the marchers into small groups. Yost, Hunt and Marian’s household were the only ones who knew of her involvement. A few more men knew of Yost’s, but they’d organised the groups in such a manner that, if betrayed, no man would have more than one or two names to provide. After leaving Marian, Yost intended to rendezvous with one of his contacts, who would spread the final information about the time, place and scope of the march.
After all that, Marian expected Yost to seek out Blanche.
Yost’s valet was at home, however, and he agreed to lend Marian fresh nightclothes for Edwin.
In clean clothing and put to bed, Edwin curled up and slept like a baby. Until Toby returned, Marian felt obligated to sit with the captain in Edwin’s room, where they talked quietly through the afternoon.
The Captain asked her about her life in India before her parents died. She told him about happy memories, such as when her amah took her into the market place with its colourful fruits and fragrant spices. Or to visit her amah’s relatives in tiny homes with much laughter and exotic cooking. Or to the silk shop, a fairy land of colourful, fluttering cloth.
‘How did your parents become ill?’ he asked her.
She again saw the woman kissing her father in the carriage, but that part was too painful to relate.
‘My father came home with a fever, and soon nearly everyone in the house died of it.’ Her mother. Her father. Her amah.
She changed the subject. ‘Tell me about your family.’
He told her about growing up in Nottinghamshire on his father’s estate, of exploring the countryside as a boy or spending time in the nearby town with his childhood companions, getting into one scrape after another.
He laughed. ‘My father would put his hands on his hips and ask me if I had windmills in my head. “Can you not just do what is right?” he would say. Those were wise words, but hard for a boy to heed.’
‘I am sympathetic to you as a boy. How does one know what is right, especially if there are two sides to something?’ His strong convictions about right and wrong made no sense to her. ‘Is it not often a matter of one’s point of view? For example, you are so certain the Spa Fields demonstrators and the Blanketeers were wrong, but surely if I’d asked them, they would have said you were wrong.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You are sounding like Mr Yost.’
She’d gone too far. He was the last person with whom she should debate politics.
‘Oh, my!’ she cried. ‘I am repeating his views, am I not?’ She tried to act as if the notion surprised her. ‘But he is as convinced he is right as you are.’
‘A man’s opinions are never wrong, but what he does can be right or wrong. Those men at Spa Fields were right that there were many hardships that ought to be changed, they were wrong to break the law.’ He paused and his expression turned even more serious. ‘Do you think Yost puts his opinions in action?’
Her nerves flared. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Would he organise men to demonstrate or to march on London?’
‘Surely he would not.’ She took a breath. ‘Would you see him arrested if he did?’
He frowned. ‘I would be compelled to do so.’
Edwin stirred and mumbled something, instantly capturing their attention. He turned over and became quiet again.
Marian made certain they talked of other things thereafter and when Toby returned they locked Edwin’s door and posted Toby in a chair outside the room with instructions to alert the captain if Edwin stirred. By dinnertime, Blanche and Yost had arrived from the shops and the four of them again shared a pleasant meal and evening together.
When the hour drew late Mr Yost took his leave. The Captain insisted Toby should go to bed and took up position in the chair outside Edwin’s door. Marian brought him a footstool so he could prop his feet up.
The spare room was right across the hall from Marian’s bed chamber, so the captain sat right outside her door. How was she to sleep knowing he was so near?
Their time together had been so companionable, almost like Brussels when they’d cared for the soldiers. She could almost pretend they could bridge the huge gap that had grown between them.
Until they began discussing Mr Yost and protests and arrests.
By the time the clock struck one, Edwin’s snores rattled the windowpanes. Marian sat up in her bed.
It was not the cacophony coming from Edwin’s throat that kept her awake, but the captain. Sleep was impossible when he was so near.
Exasperated with herself, she dangled her legs off the side of the bed. With sudden decision, she slipped off and padded to the fireplace. From one of the glowing coals she lit a taper and carried it to the door, opening it a crack to see if the captain was sleeping.
He immediately stood. ‘Marian?’
She opened the door wider. ‘I woke you. I am sorry.’
He rubbed his face. ‘I was not asleep.’
A loud atonic sound, like blocks of wood scraping across a bare floor, came from behind the locked door.
‘It is a wonder any of us can sleep,’ Marian said. ‘I never heard such snoring.’
‘Even Blanche was awake.’ He stifled a yawn.
She also covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Blanche? Did you speak with her?’
‘No. She may have thought me asleep. She hurried down the servants’ stairs.’
‘The servants’ stairs?’ That was odd. A drop of hot wax dripped on to Marian’s finger. ‘Oh!’
‘You’ve burnt yourself.’ The captain took the taper from her hand and used it to light a candle in a nearby sconce.
She placed her burnt finger to her mouth.
He pulled it away. ‘Let me see.’
‘It is nothing,’ she said, suddenly finding it hard to breathe as he examined her finger.
Still holding her hand, he led her to the chair. ‘Sit with me.’
She lowered herself on to the footstool.
He yawned again.
She glanced towards her bedchamber door. ‘Would you like to lie down in my bed?’
His eyes grew wide. ‘Share a bed again?’
A thrill shot through her, a thrill she dared not nourish. ‘I meant that I would sit here and wake you if Edwin causes trouble.’
His lips turned up at one corner. ‘I was hoping you meant we would share a bed like we did at the inn.’
‘Hoping?’ Her voice rose, remembering her moral lapse. ‘I thought you disliked me for it.’
His brows rose. ‘Disliked?’
She moved the stool away. ‘Let us not discuss this.’
He leaned forwards and reached for her hand. ‘I did not dislike what passed between us.’
She tucked her hands beneath her arms. ‘You were appalled by it.’
‘I was not.’ He reached out again, holding her chin so she could not look away. ‘I was appalled by my own weakness, Marian. I wanted nothing more than to—’ He broke off.
‘But that was because I made you.’ She moved away again. ‘I seduced you.’
She disliked remembering how wantonly she’d behaved, how much she’d wanted the captain to show her what c
ould exist between a man and woman.
She wanted it even now.
‘I had better go back to bed.’ She fled into her room.
He followed her, catching her and spinning her around to face him. ‘Marian? Do not be distressed.’
His arms encircled her and she buried her face in his coat, realising she had been desperate for his embrace. ‘I am ashamed of how I behaved. Like a strumpet.’
She felt him laugh. ‘A strumpet?’ He continued to hold her and spoke in that low voice that might be her undoing if he did not stop. ‘You’d guarded your emotions so long when we were in danger. The danger was past, and you…you needed comfort.’
His heart beat beneath her ear, soothing her. ‘That does not explain my feelings now. I am in no danger now.’
He released her and lifted her chin. ‘And you feel such urges now?’
She nodded.
‘As do I.’ His eyes darkened as he continued to stare down at her.
‘Do not look at me,’ she protested. ‘I do not know what you are thinking.’
A slow smile creased his face. ‘I am thinking of kissing you.’
His words set her body aflame. It was all she could do to wait while he slowly dipped his head until his lips touched hers. His kiss was gentle at first, then, like a fire that finally ignited, it flamed and devoured and demanded. Feeling as if her own passion might consume her, Marian kissed him back.
‘Marian,’ he murmured.
‘Captain,’ she whispered in response.
He swept her into his arms and carried her to her bed. Together they tumbled upon it. He kissed her again, playfully this time.
The wonder of it! She’d no idea there could be so many kinds of kisses. Playful, hungry, demanding. She tried another version, a kiss to tell him she did not want him to pull away this time. With that kiss the room blurred and sounds seemed to echo as if in a dream.
Boldly she pulled off her nightdress and knelt on the bed, letting his eyes savour her. She could hardly breathe.
His boots were already off and, with her eager help, he made quick work of the rest of his clothing. Feeling his bare skin against hers was both familiar and new. One moment she felt like the most experienced courtesan, knowing what she wanted, what she needed, and the next she marvelled at the experience, like the virgin she was.