The Captain's Letters

by Caylen McQueen

  When she heard her husband's voice behind her, Phoebe spun around and gasped. She had not seen Augustus in weeks, so her reaction was unsurprising. She threw her arms around him and buried her face against his chest. “Augustus!”

  “Yes, dear, I've finally returned. Needless to say, I've missed you terribly.” As he cradled his wife's head in his hand, he shot a sneer in Edward's direction. Even after so much time had passed, remnants of their rivalry remained. “Mr. Rhodes.” he acknowledged the other man coldly.

  “Augustus Wolfe...” Edward wanted to lie, to say it was a pleasure to see him, but he could not bring himself to utter the words—not even to ingratiate himself to Cecily's father.

  Augustus kissed his wife's forehead and encompassed her in his arm, as if to stake his claim on her. “And why is he here... dare I ask?”

  “He's courting our daughter,” Phoebe quickly explained. “And I'm trying to express to him how utterly and completely I disapprove!”

  “And I'm trying to understand why you disapprove! I'm a good man, you must know that. I daresay your daughter could do worse!”

  “You were my wife's beau, and now you intend to be my daughter's beau?” Augustus shook his head in disgust. “Anyone would think it was mad, if not revolting!”

  “Revolting?” Edward shrieked at the word. He could feel both of his hands clenching at his sides, and while he desperately wanted to box the other man's ears, he unfortunately never would. “I care for your daughter very much. How could it possibly be revolting?”

  “Is it not obvious? You're too old for her!” Augustus exclaimed. “You're nearly the same age as us, her mother and father! No... I'm afraid I must forbid it.”

  “So you're forbidding me to speak to her again?” Edward's eyes narrowed at the thought. “Truly?”

  Phoebe gently laid a hand against her husband's arm, silently encouraging him to let her handle the situation. “We're not forbidding you to speak to her, Mr. Rhodes. We would never do that! But please... if you would suppress your amorous intentions, I would be most grateful.”

  “And how do you think Miss Wolfe would feel about this?” Edward asked. “You don't care that you might disappoint your daughter?”

  Augustus' answer was significantly more cruel than his wife's would have been. With a sneer, he said, “She'll have other suitors, Ed. She certainly doesn't need you.”

  Ed. Hearing his former rival address him so informally made Edward's stomach churn. He desperately wanted to throttle the man—which he might have attempted, if not for fear of repercussions from the man's wife and daughter.

  “Very well, I will keep my distance,” Edward finally conceded. “But when your daughter asks you why I've vanished, be sure to tell her you are the reason.” As he walked past Phoebe and her husband, he intentionally plowed his shoulder into Augustus. “Farewell, and good day to you both.”

  Though he tried to remain calm about the situation, Edward's heart was breaking. It was an unfortunate turn of events, for he had never met a lovelier girl than Cecily Wolfe.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  As Julian helped her mount her horse, Marie said, “Thank you for inviting me on a ride with you, Mr. Sedgeford. It has been too long since I have done anything like this... which is tragic, really, for I enjoy the serenity of nature.”

  “I am glad you agreed to come.” Julian mounted his horse as swiftly and fluidly as a man half his age. “And... Mr. Sedgeford? Have we already reverted to that? I thought you agreed to call me Julian.”

  “My apologies. I had forgotten. I have known you for so long, it seems odd to make the change.”

  Julian urged his bay into a steady trot, and Marie followed at his side. It had been ages since she had ridden a horse, so she gripped the animal's reins much tighter than necessary. She could feel her hands perspiring beneath her gloves—she had many reasons to be nervous. Not only was she uncomfortable with riding, but Julian's company made her feel strangely tense.

  “You are, in fact, one of the few people I've kept in contact with for decades,” Marie told him. “You are a very valued friend.”

  “I am honored. Truly. But... to be frank, Miss Sutton, this is more than a social call between friends.” Julian stared straight ahead as he uttered the words. “I was rather hoping that I might... call on you. As a suitor. I... care for you.”

  “I...” Marie nervously twisted the reins in her hands. For several seconds, there was only painful silence—apart from the chirping of the birds in the trees overhead. “I am flattered, Julian. At my age, I never imagined anyone might call on me. It seems nothing short of a miracle!”

  “But why should it be a miracle? You're a lovely woman, Marie. You're every bit as vital and delightful as a young lady of twenty... and you are twice as wise. You are handsome and charming, and I relish your company.”

  “I also have many more wrinkles than a woman of twenty.” Marie stared at a distant hill, where a blanket of purple wildflowers decorated the ground. It was a truly beautiful sight. Rarely did she venture too far beyond her cottage. Marie had forgotten how much she missed the outside world.

  “I daresay I have more wrinkles than you!” he said with a chuckle.

  “Do you? I hadn't noticed.” She shrugged. “But we are the same age.”

  “Never be ashamed of wrinkles, Marie!” Julian playfully reprimanded her. “With each wrinkle comes a wealth of wisdom!”

  “And yet, Julian... you did claim to have more wrinkles than me. Does that make you more wise?” When she glanced in his direction, Marie's mouth tilted into a grin. She leaned forward, gently scratching her gray mare's ears as she awaited his retort.

  “It only means you have aged more gracefully than me.”

  “Nonsense! Your hair is more brown than gray, and that is more than I can say for many men of our age.”

  “And I have not lost my hair, as many men have. In that, I suppose I am fortunate.” For a moment, Charles crossed his mind. Too often, Julian found himself wondering what Charles would think and say. However, he did not want to mention his brother's name to Marie. For once, he wanted their conversation to be entirely about them.

  “Might we ride in the direction of those flowers over there?” Marie suggested. “I think they look lovely, in a very quaint way.”

  “Certainly.” Julian agreed, and they continued toward the blossom-covered hillside. “There are so many flowers over there, the grass is quite literally consumed by them!”

  “Indeed. My only hope is that there are not as many bees as there are flowers,” she said.

  “Ah. I'm not a fan of bees either. Their buzzing makes me apprehensive.” Julian's gaze briefly flicked upward, at the ominous clouds above them. They were dark in color, and the possibility of rain looked very high, unfortunately. He did not want to draw attention to the impending weather; however, for he did not want to shorten their ride.

  “When it comes to my fear of bees, only spiders equal them,” Marie added. “In fact, I saw a tremendous spider in my room this morning, and it was thoroughly terrifying!”

  “How is your sister?” he suddenly asked.

  “Oh my! A conversation about spiders led you into a conversation about Amanda?” Marie clapped her hand over mouth and giggled. “I find that oddly amusing.”

  “I suppose it was quite random,” he agreed. “And you have an adorable laugh, Marie. You should laugh more often.”

  “I... oh.” She could feel herself blushing, which was silly. For a woman of her advanced years, blushing should have been impossible. Julian's effect on her was unusual, to say the least. “Amanda is quite well. She and her husband are as happy as ever. Truth be told, I have never known a happier couple. I will be sure to tell them you asked.”

  When they reached the hill of flowers, Julian leapt from his horse and collected several in his hand. Marie was smiling as she watched him collect an enormous bouquet, and when he held it out to her, her heart missed a beat.

  “For you.” Julian bow
ed as he presented the flowers.

  “Oh... my.” Marie's eyes nearly doubled in size as she accepted his gift. “I'm... I'm afraid I might be speechless.”

  “You don't like them?”

  “No! On the contrary, I like them very much... but I'm afraid it has been ages since I've received anything of the sort. It... the fl-flowers, they...” Marie studied the flowers' purple petals as she stuttered through her sentence. “It... it simply seems like a very romantic gesture, and I'm not sure what to make of it.”

  Julian stroked his horse's mane as he spoke. “If you think it was romantic, then I'm succeeding, for that was my intention.”

  “But... you're Charles' brother. We mustn't--”

  “Why should that matter?” he interrupted. “So much time has passed, Marie. I'm not asking you to forget him. I'm not even asking you to move on. I'm only asking you to give me a chance. Please.”

  “I...”

  Before she could reply, a clap of thunder rattled the sky. As he suspected, they would have to contend with rain on the journey home. When Julian felt the mists of a fledgling rain on his face, he mounted his horse and turned in the direction of Marie's cottage. “Should we head back?”

  “I suppose so.” For the next few minutes, their ride was beset with silence. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but his passionate words had turned her into a jingle-brained fool. I'm only asking you to give me a chance. Her mind repeated his words over and over again. He wanted a chance—a chance for what, exactly? She never would have guessed his feelings, nor would she have guessed that her heart would be stirred by the prospect.

  When they were halfway to their destination, the clouds were suddenly torn apart, and a barrage of rain was unleashed. It was such an unexpected deluge, Julian's horse whinnied nervously. Though he wanted to escape the downpour, Julian did not increase his horse's speed too drastically. Marie was riding sidesaddle, and he did not want to risk her safety in any way.

  By the time they reached the cottage, both of them were thoroughly soaked. Julian dismounted, helped her from her horse, then they both rushed into the stables to take shelter from the rain. As Julian returned the animals to their stalls, Marie attempted to wring water from the bottom of her dress—which was a useless endeavor, since the water had entirely penetrated her skirts.

  “I don't believe I've ever been so wet.” Sodden black hair clung to her forehead, even though she tried to sweep the soaked strands aside.

  “It was quite an ordeal.” Julian shrugged off his greatcoat and tossed it over his arm. When Marie saw him in his waistcoat, her heart nearly stopped. His hair was soaked, water dripped from his chin, and the white shirt he wore was so wet, she could practically see through it. She was shocked—and pleasantly surprised—by how handsome he looked. “I feel as if I will never be dry again.”

  “I know. I feel quite the same way...”

  When Julian glanced in her direction, he was momentarily transfixed. Numerous sodden strands had escaped from Marie's bun during the downpour. Wet tendrils spilled to her shoulders. Slick and silky, the dislodged locks were tempting him to touch. He suddenly rushed toward her and brushed aside the strand that persistently clung to her neck.

  “Marie Sutton.” His voice was ragged as he uttered her name. “You are a beautiful woman. Truly.”

  “Julian...” Though she managed to whisper his name, she was otherwise speechless.

  “I adore you, Marie. I've always adored you.” He lightly brushed his knuckles across her dampened cheek as he spoke. “I believe I've fallen for you.”

  “I... care for you.” Marie was shocked by how easily she confessed her feelings. “But I... I have reservations. Are we...”

  He traced her lips with his thumb, making her soft skin prickle. “Are we what, Marie?”

  “Are we not too... old?” she asked. “Should we be ashamed? Would it be wrong?”

  “No one is ever too old to be loved, to be adored, to be needed,” Julian assured her. “And I could never be ashamed for feeling the way I feel. I admire you so deeply, so completely.”

  “I...” Marie couldn't manage another word. When he saw her pulse thumping wildly in her neck, he felt strangely reassured.

  “I want to kiss you. I cannot begin to tell you how long I've wanted to kiss you.” Julian leaned so close, she could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. “Will you let me?”

  “I...” Marie swallowed hard and willed her wits to return to her. “I can think of no reason why you should not.”

  Relieved by her answer, Julian closed the remaining distance between his mouth and hers. When their lips touched, Marie moaned softly. It had been so long since she had been kissed that she had forgotten what it was like. Julian's lips were soft, but passionate. His mouth caressed hers so tenderly that as soon as the kiss ended, she was desperate to be kissed by him again.

  “I adore you above all others,” Julian confessed. “I would keep you with me forever, if only you would let me.”

  “I am beginning to think I would let you...” Marie could barely speak. Ever since their kiss, her breaths were short and difficult to draw. The effect he had on her was immense and unexpected.

  “May I call on you again tomorrow?” Julian gently kissed the back of her hand as he asked the question.

  “I certainly would not object.”

  “Good. Very good.” As he stepped away from her, Julian drew a deep breath. He had never stood so close to the woman he cherished, and it was driving him mad. “Then I shall see you tomorrow.”

  He felt it was the start of something wonderful. Something perfect.

  And yet, a terrible secret loomed.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  At her next ball, it seemed as though Cecily was doomed to dance with every man except the one with whom she truly wished to dance. Mr. Hudgens danced with her twice, and though she did not mind his company, she saw his eyes wandering to her chest more than once. Sir Ryon, persistent as he was, was unfortunately a bit of a dunderhead. During their dance, the clumsy baronet managed to step on her feet no less than four times. She danced with a man named Mr. Kipling, who was cross-eyed and smelled of onions—and she really only agreed to dance with him because no one else would. She waltzed once with the Viscount of Combermere, who was unfortunately a bit of a rake. Even during their dance, she caught him watching other ladies and slathering at the mouth.

  Cecily danced with everyone but Edward Rhodes, and by the end of the ball's second hour, her heart was breaking from his neglect. It was with great reluctance that she finally approached him to inquire about his absence.

  “Mr. Rhodes.” She kept her voice as even as possible, hoping he would not notice how distressed she was.

  “Ah, Miss Wolfe. Such a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Is it?” Cecily shook her head disbelievingly. “I have not seen you in nearly a week... and you have not yet spoken to me today. Had you any wish to see me again, I suspect you would have approached me much sooner.”

  “My... apologies.” He feared his answer was disingenuous. He did not want to appear rude, but neither did he want to act too friendly. Having been warned to keep his distance from her, Edward did not want to give her any reason to attach herself to him.

  “I truly do enjoy your company,” Cecily told him. “I wish you could say the same of mine.”

  “I do enjoy your company.” Edward winced as he spoke.

  “Do you?”

  “Very much.”

  “Then... why did you suddenly ignore me? Did I do or say something to frighten you off?”

  “Not at all.” He tried to peer over her head, searching for any distraction from the current topic. “Have you seen Lady Jeffries' turban? I think she has an entire flock of feathers embedded in it!”

  But Cecily was determined to discuss his sudden neglect. “To be quite honest, Mr. Rhodes, I enjoyed your company above all others. So... to be suddenly abandoned by you is rather shocking. And... it hurts.”


  “I'm very sorry you feel that way, Miss Wolfe.” His answer was emotionless and obviously dismissive.

  “Did my mother say something to you?” Cecily asked. “Is that your reason? Did she say something to put you off?”

  “Miss Wolfe... pardon my rudeness, but I'm afraid I must take my leave,” he told her. “Good evening.”

  After a quick bow, he abandoned her again. Cecily's chest wrenched as she watched him go. She hated to see him act this way, and even more than that, she hated that she cared. Cecily tried to push him from her thoughts and continue with the rest of her day, but after a second dance with the rakish viscount, she missed Edward's company more than ever.

  She knew he was hiding something, and she was determined to uncover the truth. After her dance with Lord Combermere, she approached Mr. Rhodes with renewed determination.

  “Will you please answer me?” she beseeched him. “Was it my mother who pushed you away from me? Or my father, perhaps? If either of them is the culprit, I would happily defy them for your company. I care for you too much to let them interfere.”

  Edward momentarily closed his eyes. In a way, he admired her determination, but he also wished she would make it easier on him. He liked the girl—he liked her very much. And yet, a large part of him felt as though her parents were correct to discourage him. Cecily Wolfe was much younger than him, and an innocent. It was easier to imagine her with anyone but him.

  “Miss Wolfe, please...” He lightly patted her arm, perhaps a bit condescendingly, as a beloved uncle might. “You are a lovely young woman, and that is precisely the reason why you should not waste another moment with me.”

  “I should be allowed to decide how I spend my time... and I should be allowed to determine the value of your company on my own.” Cecily crossed her arms and glowered at him. “Did my mother say something?”

  “Even if she did, I respect her far too much to reveal that information to you.”

  “Your aversion of the topic is very telling, Mr. Rhodes. I am going to assume my mother did attempt to drive you away from me.” When Cecily glanced in the direction of Marie, she was relieved that her aunt had accompanied her today. Her mother would have likely forbidden them from talking.