“But will you always sail your own ship? As you prosper, will you not hire others to import your wares so you can settle in comfort either here or in East Florida?”
He started to speak, but she touched a finger to his lips. “Would we not have a lovely life there? You and I, Frederick and Rachel. Oh, Jamie, I so dearly long to know my brother’s wife, my own dear sister. Will you not take me there to meet her?”
Jamie moved back, staring beyond her as if contemplating her words. But then he shook his head. “Lord Bennington will never approve our marriage.”
“Perhaps we should give him a chance to approve or disapprove. He surely thinks well enough of you. He has made you like a son, even favored you over his own.” She felt like a traitor to Robert for saying it. William, Thomas and Frederick had all found their places in life, but dear Robert was still far from it, even with his recent improvements. “We have not been fair to him. We must give him a chance to say yes or no.”
“But what if it’s no, as it likely will be?”
“I cannot think he would deny me my happiness when he himself has been so happy in marriage with Mama.”
A loud sneeze came from the room’s other settee, which faced the hearth. Marianne jumped, and Jamie drew in a soft breath. The man chuckled as he peered over the settee back. His face was shadowed, but the well-formed shape of his head was unmistakable.
“Well, isn’t this a pretty pickle?”
“Robert!” Marianne thought she might faint. “What are you doing here?”
Robert sat up and scratched his jaw. “I came to escape the ball.”
“But you were having such a grand time.” Marianne feared some lady had wounded him.
“Perhaps I should say I came to escape trouble.” He rose and crossed the room. “The brandy looked all too inviting, and Tobias Pincer was there waving a glass under my nose.” He gave Jamie a weak smile. “I turned him down, but somehow I do not feel as if I entirely won that battle.”
“Pincer.” Jamie’s voice resounded with disdain. “I thought you got rid of him.”
“I did, but his father has some influence with Bennington, so I certainly could not avoid him.” Wearing a teasing grin, Robert sat on the chair next to the settee and looked back and forth from Jamie to Marianne. “So my suspicions are correct. What are we going to do about this fine mess?”
Jamie cringed. Things were getting far too complicated. He’d nearly lost his life—twice. His love for Marianne had no future, he felt the burn of an important document against his chest, and now Moberly was putting himself in the mix. Had he heard Jamie examining the desk? What a fool he’d been for not searching the dark corners of the room first. Moberly hadn’t made a sound, nor had the scent of his bergamot cologne carried across the room.
Jamie must turn this conversation away from delicate matters of the heart. “Why don’t you feel as if you won the battle against the brandy?”
Moberly slumped in his chair. “Strange, is it not? I turned away from it, but I wanted it very badly. I went away feeling deprived and cross that other men can drink and I cannot. Once I begin, I cannot stop.” He rested his elbow on the chair arm and propped his chin on his hand. “Even now, my mouth waters at the thought of brandy.”
“Oh, Robert.” Marianne reached out to squeeze her brother’s arm. “I am very proud of you. I had the lemonade. It is quite tasty and has a splash of strawberries. Will you not have some of that?”
He gave her a paternal smile. “Yes, I should do that. Next time I will.” He straightened and patted her hand. “But for now, here we are, and you two still have not answered my question.”
Jamie permitted himself to feel a bit relieved. Moberly didn’t seem in any way suspicious of him. The best way to handle the other situation was straight on. “If you heard our conversation, my friend, you know of our feelings for each other. But you also know the impossibility of our being any more than friends. Please help me convince your sister of this painful truth.” How he regretted his confession of love to her. He should have walked right out of the room.
“Well…” Moberly drawled the word. “You could elope. There would be a bit of a scandal, but then, society needs one of those from time to time. Eventually it would die down, and you could live on in bliss, oblivious to it.”
Jamie stiffened. “Lord Bennington has done nothing but good for me. I would never do that to him.” Except for advising the king to send thousands of soldiers to quash the Revolution.
Moberly’s laugh was sardonic. “Ah, my good man, I would do that to Bennington. But then he would disown me completely, and my ladylove would suffer for it.”
“Speaking of your ladylove.” Jamie grasped this diversion. “You and Miss Kendall enjoy each other’s company.” He glanced at Marianne for her confirmation.
She nodded and gave Moberly a mischievous smile. “You do indeed.”
Moberly snorted. “And how will penniless I provide for penniless her?” A pained, wistful look overtook his shadowed countenance. “Indeed, how?” Again he snorted. “I should have gone into the church. Father could have found me a living among his friends. But alas, I came to faith far too late.”
“Why too late?” The idea pulsed through Jamie. “You have your Oxford education. You know your Scriptures. With the proper mentor from among the clergy, you could become a very fine minister.”
Moberly’s frown lessened. “I was joking, but—”
“But why not?” Marianne’s face glowed with love for her brother. “Do you have any idea how long Grace has prayed for you?” She bit her lip. “Oh, do not tell her I told you. She would be mortified. But if anyone would suit for a minister’s wife, it is she.”
A smile broke over Moberly’s entire face. “I will…it seems strange for me to say this…pray about this matter. Yes, I will pray, first, that the Lord will show His will regarding my future. And second, that He will make Miss Kendall a part of that future.”
“Well reasoned,” Jamie said. “I’ll pray likewise for you.”
“And I, too.” Marianne stood. “Now, we must return to the ball. Mama will be disappointed to find us shirking our hosting duties.”
Jamie and Moberly rose, each offering her an arm. With a laugh, she took both of them, and the three proceeded to the door. “We look like a trio of conspirators, do we not?”
Her words sent a chill down Jamie’s spine.
Marianne lay abed that night thinking of all that had transpired. Although Jamie had confessed his love, they had not settled anything. But if he thought she would give up on their future, he was quite mistaken. Robert’s suggestion about elopement had long ago occurred to her, but that would ruin Jamie’s partnership with Papa. Somehow she must find a way either to break his resolve against asking Papa for her hand, or throw all to the wind and follow him back to East Florida, which would protect Jamie and put all the blame on her shoulders.
How could it be accomplished? Her brother Thomas was an officer in His Majesty’s navy. Perhaps he could see to her passage. No, Thomas was all rules and order. He would never help her against their father.
She stared through the darkness toward the little chamber where Emma slept. When Marianne came upstairs after the last guest left the ball, her servant seemed particularly happy. Upon examination, she’d confessed to a pleasant visit with Aaron Quince under the watchful eye of Mrs. Bennett, the housekeeper. As surely as Marianne trusted Jamie’s integrity, she trusted his Quince not to play with Emma’s heart. She fully understood that if they married, Emma would return to East Florida with him. While Papa might be mildly displeased to have a servant desert his household, he would not go against Mama, who had brought the orphaned Emma into their home.
Feeling far from sleep and more than a little envious, Marianne let her imagination wander. She could see herself bundled up in a plain brown cloak, boarding the Fair Winds as Emma’s lady’s maid. No one would know the difference, even Jamie, until they were far out to sea. She laughed into the dar
kness at the silly idea. Then sat straight up in her bed.
Perhaps the idea was not so silly, after all.
Chapter Twelve
The message, informally scrawled on foolscap, held helpful information, some of which General Washington might already know. The King’s 60th Regiment of Foot, which the general might well have fought alongside during the French and Indian War, had been serving in the West Indies in the ensuing years. Now they would be removed to East Florida and serve under Colonel Thomas Browne, a colonial from Georgia who’d suffered at the hands of Patriots for his loyalty to the king.
Jamie chafed at not being able to get this vital information to Washington as soon as possible. But until his ship was seaworthy, he must remain in England. He and Quince often reminded each other that they were doing what they’d been sent to do, and must trust God to open opportunities where He willed. After copying the missive in the early morning hours, Jamie left it to Quince to slip back to the library with the stealth of his Shawnee grandfather and replace it in the desk. Now that they knew where information was to be had, they would check often. In the meantime, boredom often set in for both men.
Although Quince had worked his own farm in Massachusetts, with leisure times only in the dead of winter, Jamie was more used to long stretches of inactivity while his ship sailed from port to port. After crew drills and other exercises, he filled his time by reading the Scriptures or lighter fare, and keeping busy about the vessel. But most of these aristocrats seemed to have honed their skills at indolence. While they found contentment in sleeping half the day, visiting and gossiping with one another, and attending parties and balls, Jamie’s hands ached to work. He feared that by the time the Fair Winds’ hull and mast were repaired, his hard-earned calluses would be worn away.
He managed to spend some of his time traveling to various suppliers and arranging the goods he would take back to East Florida. In addition to household goods and luxuries for the wealthy, the plantation owners needed metalworks to build their own foundries now that they could not do business with the northern colonies. Jamie could supply some of their needs, such as the Swedish bar iron on order from Birmingham. The Fair Winds was being reinforced even now to carry the heavier cargo. But it would take many more ships and many more trips between the continents to import everything the burgeoning colony required to be self-sufficient.
Sometimes his divided interests wore him down, especially since he seemed not to be able to get back into Bennington’s library alone. The earl had invited him to read any of the countless leather-bound books that lined two walls floor to ceiling. But when Jamie did so, Moberly or Miss Kendall or Marianne or the ever-present Reverend Bentley would also be reading there. Many evenings during supper Bennington would mention progress in the war against the colonists. But Jamie could not detect anything further regarding the Crown’s plans for defending East Florida, or any helpful information about troop action in the northern colonies.
At least Marianne seemed to have reconciled herself to the impossibility of their going beyond friendship, for she no longer cast wistful glances in his direction, glances that cut into his soul and distracted him. In fact, her cheerful disposition had brightened the entire household these past weeks. For his own part, after those brief sweet kisses the night of the ball, he felt something settle in his own heart. To know such pure and tender love, though denied its fulfillment, was still a gift from the Lord. Jamie would treasure the remaining time with Marianne and thank God for every moment they spent together, however formally they must conduct themselves.
“How do you stand for it, my friend?” Quince folded Jamie’s new gray jacket and placed it in a trunk. “If anybody told me Emma and I couldn’t marry, we’d elope in the middle of the night.”
“That’s exactly what I’d expect of you, and I’d not fault you for it.” Jamie stared out the window into the bright May sunshine. “But can’t you hear me telling Bennington ‘by the by, old man, in addition to my using our partnership to spy on you, I’m also stealing your daughter’?” He looked down on two servants sweeping the back terrace, and envied their industriousness…and the simplicity of their lives. “If spying on the man strains my sense of honor, elopement would destroy it altogether.”
Quince grimaced. “Under the circumstances, it would be reprehensible, wouldn’t it?” He brought another jacket from the wardrobe. “Are you going to help me with this?”
“You’re the valet, not I.” Jamie crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I think you’ve found your calling, my friend.”
Quince glared at him, but there was mischief in his grin. “Shall I dump it all on the floor and let you pack for yourself?”
“Now, now. Let’s not take offense.” Jamie crossed the room and began to carry items from the wardrobe to the trunk. “I must say, I never expected to own so many clothes, nor such fine ones. Have Ian or Greyson told you what I’ll need for country living?” Jamie laughed at his own words. “Lord, what’ve You brought me to? An orphaned boy and lowly whaler playing with the aristocracy.”
Quince clapped him on the shoulder. “And you play the part well, Cap’n Jamie.” He surveyed the growing stash of clothes. “Yes, we should take all of it. Ian says the family’s months at the country manor are filled with even more activities than their season in the city.”
“I suppose it depends on what you consider ‘activities.’ Other than their frivolous nonsense, they don’t seem too full of activity,” Jamie said. “I’ll arrange with Moberly to have horses available for us to return to the city and see to the Fair Winds. When I was at Southwark yesterday, she looked well on her way to being mended. They can step up the mast in another month and start the rigging. What’s our old friend François said about the arrival of the muskets?”
Quince snorted. “Who could have guessed that arrogant fellow hates the English so much? When he brought the gray jacket yesterday, he told me his sources require anonymity. But he also said his latest news from France indicates some important people are backing our Revolution. Of course, young Louis will want us to succeed if only to needle the English…and repel their interests on the Continent.”
“That kind of help will be a blessing indeed. But what about the weapons?”
“We’ll have the details of where to get them by the time the ship’s ready to sail.”
Jamie felt a sense of reprieve. Once he had the Spanish muskets, he might not be able to return to Lord Bennington’s hospitality. And he was not yet ready to say goodbye to Marianne.
Seated in the family carriage with Mama and Grace, Marianne watched the passing scenery of the Surrey countryside with a mix of joy and sorrow. She longed to return to Hampshire and Bennington Park, for she preferred the country over the city. But she had no doubt this would be the last time she ever visited her childhood home. With this in mind, she treasured each sight, each fragrance, each moment with Mama and Robert.
With Robert especially. Her dear brother seemed a different man since Jamie had convinced him to trust in God’s mercy. He confided his lack of confidence in approaching Papa regarding service in the church, but he did spend many hours with Grace. Marianne could see them growing closer, could see Robert growing in his faith. And while he said nothing more about her relationship with Jamie, he did his best to arrange times when the four of them could be together. Perhaps Mama sensed a romance for Robert, too, for she granted Grace an unusual amount of freedom.
On May Day, they had at last enjoyed their picnic at Richmond Park. What a lark it had been to spread out linen tablecloths on the green grass and enjoy cold chicken, salad, hothouse strawberries, and cakes, and to greet their many friends. With the social season soon to end, everyone seemed eager to gather as often as possible, and the next two weeks had seen a flurry of parties and balls, few of which members of Bennington’s household attended. Marianne found she did not miss the events in the slightest.
Now, as the end of May neared, the closed carriage wended its way home
through the pine forests that shrouded the Portsmouth Road, while Robert and Jamie rode alongside, their guns and swords at the ready in case highwaymen dared to attack. Papa would join the family as soon as Parliament adjourned.
Marianne experienced several moments of guilt over being glad for her father’s absence from the family circle. Without pressing duties to king and country, he often bore down a bit harder on his family and might notice how often she and Jamie were together. She must find ways to avoid his scrutiny. Glancing out of the window, she watched Jamie riding beside Robert. Pride filled her over how well he had learned to manage Puck, and even seemed to have formed a friendship with the frisky horse.
As she watched, Robert reined his Gallant near Jamie. “Can I interest you in a race to Portsdown Hill?” He pointed with his riding crop. Marianne could hear her brother’s teasing tone.
“Oh, Robert, do not—” She started to put her head out through the open window.
“Now, now, my dear.” Mama touched her arm. “Do let the men have their fun. Moberly is the picture of health these days, and I’ll warrant Captain Templeton has learned to stay astride by now.”
As the thunder of racing hooves met her ears, Marianne’s heart dipped to her stomach. She glanced between Mama and Grace, and her face grew hot. Mama’s mild expression revealed no deeper meaning beyond what her words conveyed. But Mama could surprise a person, and Marianne knew better than to assume anything. If she were twelve years old again, she would confess everything and cast herself upon Mama’s mercy. But to do so would destroy everything. No, if Marianne planned to follow Jamie to East Florida, it must be without Mama’s knowledge, for she would never approve of such a scheme. She had been heartbroken when Papa sent Frederick to the colony, and she would be devastated when Marianne left.
With a soft laugh that she feared sounded more giddy than casual, Marianne conceded Mama’s assertion. “Yes, Robert has never been healthier…or happier.” From the corner of her eye, she could see Grace’s pink cheeks. “And I suppose the captain’s riding has improved. But tell me, Mama, what plans have you made for our entertainment these next months?”
The Captain's Lady Page 9