by Heather Boyd
“Everything will be settled soon, and you and I will rub along together as best we can,” Lady Ellicott said. “The painters have started on your apartment and promised it will be done by the time we return. Then new drapes will be hung throughout the house to match,” Lady Ellicott enthused, little realizing her words were another blow to Sally’s contentment.
Perhaps she was bound for spinsterhood after all.
“You have chosen to decorate my bedchamber, and the house, without bothering to consult me about what I might like?”
“My dear, it will be beautiful. I have picked just the right shade of crimson to match the gold thread in the bed hangings.”
Gold embroidery too?
Was her dowry to be spent on frivolous decorations she did not want? She could never sleep in a room decorated in red. The color kept her awake at night and always had. Sally set her teacup aside and went to the window, mind tumbling in confusion. The dark drive was empty.
“Where are you, Felix,” she whispered. “Tell me this is all a bad dream.”
Her reflection gave her no answer and no comfort. Behind her the countess quieted, but none of Sally’s doubts did.
“Excuse me, my lady,” a footman whispered. “Lady Templeton requests to see you.”
Sally glanced about the room, unable to spot her mother, who had been seated with her moments before.
“She has retired for the night,” Rodmell murmured.
“Yes, of course. I will go to her immediately. Please ask my sister to offer my excuses to Lady Ellicott.”
Sally hurried away gladly, along the dimly lit hall to reach her mother’s ground-floor apartment.
At the door, she nodded and then pushed her way inside. “You sent for me, Mama?”
Her mother glanced up from her writing table and the papers she had been reading and smiled. Swathed in lace and white muslin tonight, she appeared adorably pretty and ready for bed. “At last,” she remarked in an exasperated tone.
Sally crossed the room and kissed her mother’s cheek. “You always say that.”
“And I always mean it.” Her mother set aside her work. “I miss you the moment you walk out of the room. I will miss you even more when you marry that man.”
Sally twisted her engagement ring on her finger. “I have always wanted to marry.”
“True. When you were a girl you used to speak of what your life would be like. The color of your drawing room, the number of guests you could seat at your dining table. You always wanted a blue bedchamber like this one. You made an early start on preparing me for the loss of your company one day.”
“Was I really so fixated as all that? I do not remember saying any of it.” She thought a moment. “I will still have a blue drawing room and seat sixteen for a dinner party in London. Not a body more or less. There is something to be said for an intimate gathering of friends and family.”
“Those were a girl’s dreams from one who hasn’t the faintest inkling of what marriage will really be about. From what I heard tonight, you might not have a choice in anything so long as Lady Ellicott rules the roost.” Her mother frowned down at her robe, pleating a fold of fabric nervously. “Your future mother-in-law has ideas of her own about the sort of impression her family must make for their guests. She has made it very clear that you will be expected to behave as she wishes.”
“I am hoping to bring her around to my way of thinking.”
“Are you certain you can? You have not been yourself around them. I understand why, but I do not like to see it because you appear so very miserable around her and him.” She sighed deeply. “I wish you all the luck in the world, you know that. I want you to marry and have children. To have a man to spoil you as you deserve and the protection of his name. When a woman gets to a certain age, she becomes set in her ways. She either likes to sleep late or rise early. Treats her servants well or not. Believes in love, scorns it, or accepts that love is for the very lucky. You believe in love.”
Sally took her mother’s hand. “I love you.”
“I love you too, but I am not loved in return. Not by the man who should have cared for me.” With a little toss of her head, Mama’s smile returned. “Your father has his amours and ignores me. I have had a long time to accept that, and I doubt he will suddenly decide he loves me at our advanced age.”
Sally considered her mother, then decided she would never have a better moment to ask a question that had been on her mind of late. “Mama, how could you have had six children with a man who does not love you?”
“Stubbornness.” Her mother looked away. “Each time, I prayed a child would bring us closer, but it did not. When your sister Mary was taken away from us so young, just barely out in society, your father never came to me again. He took her death as a sign that our marriage was over, and I have been alone ever since.”
Years without a husband’s, albeit fleeting, affection. “Oh Mama, Mary would never have wanted to be the cause of your pain. She had her own troubles.”
“I wish I had known of them before it was too late to save her life.” Her mother sniffed. “Do not pity me, Sally. I went into my marriage with my eyes wide open, and I gained so much despite your father. I gained you and your brothers and sisters to love. A home and extended family to protect me. I am really very lucky in my life.”
“Except for Father.”
Her mother nodded. “I want so much for you to have a good life.”
“I do too.”
“And you love Ellicott?”
Sally swallowed a lump in her throat. “I could.”
“That is what I said to myself when I was young.” Her mother’s hand tightened on hers. “If you have any doubts, do not marry Ellicott. Better to be married for love than never experience it.”
Sally chewed her bottom lip. “I loved once.”
“Felix?”
Sally nodded and stood, turning her back to her mother and the uncomfortable truth. “And he left me.”
“He did.” Her mother joined her at the window and put a comforting arm around her back. “And he will leave again to further his ambitions for glory and greater wealth. Did you ever wonder what he wanted it all for? Success and a fortune? He has not used any of it to better his situation. From what I can tell, he owns little more than his possessions aboard his ship.”
Sally sighed. “So it seems.”
“On the surface, your father married me for exactly the same reason you feel Felix wanted you. Connections to increase his standing in society and my hefty dowry to better his life.” She laughed. “I was described as an incomparable in my day. Pretty enough to turn heads, accomplished, and with a fortune not to be sneezed at. I could have picked anyone at all to marry. I chose with my head rather than my heart.”
Sally was doing the very same thing. “Why did you pick Father if you knew he did not care for you?”
“I was not going to. I had half a dozen young men from excellent families contending for my hand and my connections. Unfortunately, there was none that I liked more than the others. My parents pressured me, so I decided to use another method to choose which family I gave my fortune to.”
“So you chose Father, not for himself but for the connection?”
“No, I chose him for his family.” Her mother grinned. “I knew I would have to spend the rest of my life in this place, live side by side with your aunts. Not to mention their husbands and children too. Rutherford liked to keep everyone close, and of course the duke rules this place. I was young and considered by many to be just another pretty face with a pretty penny to her name. I liked your father’s family from the moment we met. They made room for me in their lives, in the running of this place, and never made me feel unwelcome. Over the years I never had to fight to have my way simply because I was to be the next duchess. I wished for a peaceful existence because I understood everyone has needs and ambitions. They have become my family, much more so than your father.”
Sally sank into a chair and hugged a
pillow. She could not say she would choose to marry Ellicott for his family. She would rather not be around his mother even now. “Not everyone can say that about the family they marry into.”
“True,” Mama murmured. “I am just lucky that they liked me being around as well, or I would indeed have been miserable. As you will be too if Lady Ellicott’s opinions continue to hold sway and conflict with your own. I am not suggesting you change, but there will be a battle ahead. You are too much like your aunt to back down every time there is opposition. You are used to being heard.”
She adjusted the pillow on her lap. “Does it bother you that Aunt Penelope decides so much of what happens here?”
“Never. She has good taste, and we hardly ever disagree.”
Sally tossed the pillow aside as her mother joined her. “What do you disagree about?”
“You.”
Sally blinked. “Me? What did I do?”
“You and your sisters.” Her mother squeezed her hand. “She has always believed I allowed you girls too much freedom.”
“I am sorry to be the source of any argument between you.”
“Not to worry. We have been discussing your futures for years. I tell her you know your own mind and can easily put a stop to any shenanigans some young men might tempt you with.” Her mother rubbed her temple and then smiled. “Then Penelope reminds me that even the smallest flirtation can lead to eventual ruin.”
“Yes, she has warned me of that often over the years since I almost married Felix.”
“I know. That is why I did not feel the need to bring up the subject of him again. You have heard it all from her. You have already had a close call. But are you sure you do not want to see what sort of man he has become? He seems rather intense whenever we discuss you. The look on his face when I mentioned to him your engagement broke my heart, but it had to be done.”
Sally gasped. “You were the one who told him I was to marry?”
Mama nodded. “At dinner the first night. I did not want him to imagine he could walk back into your life and pick up where he had left off. If he wanted you, he had to work for your forgiveness. Do you forgive him?”
“I do not know.”
“That is an excellent answer. The very best in fact.” She drew Sally into her arms and squeezed. “He was not a fortune hunter, darling. He did not keep the breach-of-promise payment your father gave to him. He sent back every penny to your grandfather with a note protesting his innocence.”
Sally’s head spun. “How did he achieve the rank of captain without funds to buy his way up the ranks?”
“I do not know, but I have a suspicion someone does.”
“Who?”
Her mother raised one brow. “Who knows everything that happens in this family?”
“Aunt Penelope.” Sally ground her teeth. “And Grandfather.”
“Penelope has not said a word.” Her mother crossed the room and shook out a length of cloth. “What do you think of the color?”
Sally wrenched her mind back to the moment and studied the weave. “Beautiful. French?”
Her mother nodded.
“That will look lovely. Trust Maitland to send you an early birthday present. I loved the prints in the last shipment.”
Her mother shook her head. “Maitland sends nothing back to Newberry. He never has.”
“Then where?” Sally blinked, recalling all the carts that had turned up their drive over the years. Goods from far-flung places came at irregular intervals but often enough that she had taken them for granted. “Not from Father, surely?”
“Your father has terrible taste in cloth, and if they were from him, he would have bragged about his generosity to us poor women.” Mama pursed her lips. “I think these little luxuries come from another captain, one who might have made a bargain in exchange for something he valued highly.”
Sally closed her eyes. “Felix should be very rich.”
“But he is not. He does not own very much. I have suspected a share of his prizes has been sent to Newberry for some time, but your grandfather denied it. I have been keeping a close eye on Laurence’s accounts of battles fought and goods taken in his letters to Cecily. This”—she held the fabric up—“undoubtedly is the spoils of Captain Hastings’s success.”
Sally bit her lip. “Grandfather has always given me first choice.”
“Indeed he has. Even myself and Penelope know not to choose anything until you have looked at it all. Your bottom drawer is full of the captain’s wealth. He never took more from you than you gave to him freely, but he continues to give to you indirectly, and I think he always will. Do you understand why?”
Sally put her face in her hands. She had thought she understood him when really she had not known the full extent of his desperation. She could believe he might have made a bargain with her grandfather to advance his career, but to give so much of the spoils of his success smacked of pride too. He must have been mad to agree.
Or desperate to prove he was not the fortune hunter she had accused him of being.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Felix remained in a foul mood and made little attempt to keep it from his face or his tone as he started another wasted day sitting about at Newberry Park. Despite Gabriel’s suggestion that he should try to recapture Sally and their lost love, he could not fathom why she would share what they did together with her future husband.
He had taken her at her word that no one would know about what they’d done together, and he was more disappointed by her behavior than words could say. It was one thing to be unfaithful but quite another to gossip about it. It cheapened her and him.
He had been so cross about it yesterday that he had gotten good and drunk with Jennings, which was unusual for him, in the hope of forgetting the entire affair. He had slept the indulgence off at the inn until the duke’s staff—Morgan and Rodmell plus stablehands—had fetched him home again as the new day started.
The duke cleared his throat. “I understand you kept a woman on board during the summer of 1812.”
A little gasp escaped Sally, and he was pleased. “What of it?”
The duke seemed taken aback by his tone. “You kept her confined to your cabin for three weeks and would not let her even come up on deck for air.”
He folded his arms across his chest. Everything the duke said was true, but none of that had been in his report. “Was that a question?”
The duke pursed his lips. “Young man, keeping prisoners, particularly females of reportedly lovely proportions, in cramped conditions is ungentlemanly conduct. Especially when she is the widow of your enemy.”
“The conditions were not cramped for her. She was particularly small and found my quarters completely charming.” Felix ground his teeth. Someone on board his ship had talked, and if he had to guess, he could only assume that Lieutenant Laurence Ford had been spying on him at the duke’s request. But why? The duke had maintained his support for his career even after Sally had broken with him. What did his love life, or lack of, have to do with his command? “I treated her with the respect and privacy I had hope my own wife would receive if I had one to be taken aboard an enemy vessel.”
The duke stamped his cane on the floor and bellowed, “Forcing her to be your mistress is hardly respectful.”
He was not the least bit intimidated by the duke’s bark since he was innocent of the charge. In fact, he was feeling decidedly reckless about his future. Keeping women on board went against the grain for many captains. However, in this case he had had good reasons for keeping the woman restricted. Reasons he did not wish to share while Sally was in the room. “She would feel that my discussing it with strangers to be a betrayal of the worst sort.” He glanced at Sally. “I gave her my word that I would never speak of her.”
“Was she your mistress, Captain?” the duke pressed. “And how many others have there been that the admiralty would equally disapprove of?”
The duke’s tone was harder than it had ever been, and althoug
h Felix wished to ignore the question, his honor would not allow it. He had worked too hard to rebuild his reputation to let a lie unravel it all.
“I never touched her,” he bit out. “We had been nine months at sea without shore leave, and she was very beautiful and sweet. She kept to my cabin—very happily I might add—to keep out of the path of my lusty crew until circumstances allowed her to disembark. I disapprove of keeping women on board as a rule.”
The duke expelled a huge breath. “Why is that, Captain?”
“Women are a distraction, both to the captain and to the men under his command. A woman has so little to do, and it would be easy to misunderstand a harmless jest as a flirtation in close quarters when tempers often grow short and the comfort of home and sweethearts are far away.”
The duke raised one brow. “I happen to live in a society full of distracting women, so I can assure you their location hardly matters.”
“That is indeed true.” He glanced at Sally briefly. “However, there is also the danger of attack at sea that is another strike against having a woman on board. In battle, all hands must defend the ship and most women are unequal in strength to an enemy intent on harming them. They must find sanctuary within the ship, and if the ship were to fall and they alone were to survive, they would face an eager welcome from unscrupulous men.”
“You mean they would be imposed upon,” Sally said in a sickened voice.
He nodded. “Madame Velay was lucky that the Selfridge captured her husband’s vessel. She was entirely safe from indignity on board my ship, as any woman could expect to be.”
The duke peered at a letter before him. “She married your physician.”
“Yes,” he added, noting another detail that had not been part of his dispatches. Laurence was going to be peeling barnacles off the hull of the ship with his teeth when Felix got back on board. “I had noticed a few looks between them, and when she asked me if it would be all right to invite the physician to call on her, I allowed it. He was a bachelor and a gentleman.”