Captain Corcoran's Hoyden Bride

by Annie Burrows

  ‘I … umm,’ she fidgeted in her chair, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. ‘Not exactly,’ she eventually confessed. Then, drawing herself upright, she looked him straight in the face, took a deep breath, and said, ‘I would not want to marry any man who was engaged in something … underhand. Illegal. Or immoral.’

  It was all he could do to remain seated. He could not think of any way she could have insulted him more comprehensively. He could, just, see how she might have misunderstood the situation last night. But now she knew it was marriage he was offering, and she was still trying to paint him as the villain of the piece!

  She held her hand out to him, in a placatory gesture, saying hastily, ‘You see, all my life I have struggled to remain within the limits of the laws of whatever country I have lived in.’ In spite of her father’s increasing disregard for any kind of moral code. ‘I could have had a much easier life, financially speaking, if I had not had such … rigid morals.’ She flung up her chin. ‘I could have become some man’s mistress years ago, and been kept in the lap of luxury, if I could have abandoned all the principles that my mother instilled in me. But I would rather have starved.’

  His anger abated. ‘That is why you leapt to the wrong conclusion about my proposal last night.’ It was not completely his fault. ‘You have been propositioned before.’ And her determination to escape it certainly put her in a different league from his first wife. Miranda had thought nothing of entertaining a lover while he was away at sea. Had, in the end, run off with her fancy man, for far less money than he had brought to the table last night.

  She nodded. ‘And in my experience, a man will always take advantage of a woman without adequate protection. I do hope you will forgive my error of judgement. I had no notion of your character then. Though,’ she continued with a perplexed frown, ‘if you cannot give me a sensible reason for putting an advertisement in the papers for what sounded like a governess, when really you wanted a wife, what was I supposed to think?

  I have explained why I tried to run away,’ she said, her eyes snapping with irritation. ‘If you had made it clear you were offering marriage, rather than—’ She broke off, huffing in exasperation. ‘And you still have not explained why you went to such lengths to … to … lure me here!’

  ‘There are perfectly good reasons why I was not willing to advertise openly for a wife,’ he replied, amusement tugging at him yet again. She had started off that little speech in penitence, but before she had taken her first breath, she was one step away from rebuking him.

  ‘Well, that is not going to help me make up my mind, is it?’ she said in vexation. ‘I need to know—’

  ‘Why the devil do you think I picked a woman who answered an advertisement for what sounded like a job as a governess? Any woman who would rather earn her living honestly when she is pretty enough to do so on her back has to have at least a modicum of integrity. And I told Mr Jago to be on the lookout for a pretty woman. If I was planning something illegal, or immoral, do you think I would want such a woman at my side? As my partner in crime? ‘

  ‘Put like that, no, I suppose not.’ Very well, he might not want to go down the more conventional route of finding a bride, but he had mentioned she would become a Countess if she married him. He must have known that there would have been dozens of applicants for such a position! ‘But why did you not just advertise openly for a wife? ‘

  He laughed mockingly. ‘The kind of woman who would offer herself up as a wife under those conditions is precisely the kind of wife I don’t want—a woman who would sell herself for wealth and a title! And before you tell me I could go about it in the more usual way, doing the Season and courting some milk-and-water débutante …’ His lips twisted in derision.

  ‘I have not the time for all that nonsense. Besides, I have already told you that I have a sight too much selfrespect to go grovelling to a succession of society beauties, in Almack’s or some such place. I have no address, fewer manners, and you have already learned that I have a damnable temper! I would probably just scatter them all like a flock of silly geese. And I have absolutely no intention of ending up with a vapid creature who would shrink from me.’

  She regarded the clenched fists that he’d slammed on to the desk top to illustrate his point, then raised her eyes to his face. They seemed to linger over his scars, and a troubled frown knotted her brows. The intensity of her scrutiny was hard to bear. His instinct was to put up his hands and conceal his ugliness. Instead, he forced himself to sit completely still and bear that vision of perfection studying the wreckage of a face that had never been worth looking at in the first place.

  What was she thinking while she studied him so intently? She had flinched the first time she had seen him without the eyepatch. He had left it off deliberately, to see how she would react. He had vowed not to subject any female to the close proximity marriage would entail, if it was clear it was beyond her. It had seemed like a good omen when she had overcome her initial revulsion so swiftly. There were not many women who could cope with a sight like that.

  It seemed like a very long time before she blinked, and shook her head as though coming out of a trance.

  ‘I still do not quite see …’

  ‘Can you suggest a better way of finding the kind of woman I want than this? From what I have heard of the Season, it brings out all the worst traits of your sex. They smile and simper and lie to trap you into making an offer, and only then do you find out what they are really made of. Well, Miss Peters, I have a clearer idea what you are made of now, after getting you to apply for an honest job and being in your company only one day, than I had of my first wife after two years of being married.’

  Granted, he had been away at sea for almost the entire period. He supposed it was hardly surprising she had found somebody else. And that the sight of him, when he had returned home to be nursed back to health after the injury that had robbed him of his eye, had precipitated her final flight.

  ‘And do not make some foolish remark about it being too soon to fall in love with each other. I warn you now, I am done with love,’ he declared, looking straight at her. ‘I married for love before, and it was a disaster from start to finish. This time, I want a rational, sensible union of two beings who both know exactly what to expect from one another. For I must marry. It has been made quite clear that it is my duty to produce heirs.’

  ‘Heirs,’ she repeated weakly.

  ‘Make no mistake, if you marry me, it will be a full marriage. I shall expect you to welcome me into your bed. And I shall demand fidelity from you.’

  ‘And what,’ she retorted, her eyes sparking with indignation, ‘may I expect from you, sir?’

  His face hardened.

  ‘Go back to London, then, if you do not want such a marriage!’ he snapped. ‘I am not keeping you a prisoner!’

  Her stomach lurched. She could not return to London! Not after scheming and striving so hard to escape. She knew what awaited her there—men who wanted to use and humiliate her. She might be able to evade them again, but …

  She gripped the arm of the chair, shivering at the possibility of falling into the clutches of any of those men who had thought it sport to bid for her virtue.

  All that awaited her in London was degradation and horror.

  At least if she stayed here, and married the Captain, she would know a measure of security. Last night, she had been in despair, believing she had ruined her one and only chance at marriage and respectability. But now he was offering her a second chance. A slim chance.

  She looked at him, sitting stony faced behind his desk. Unmoving. Intractable.

  Could she really marry a man she barely knew? A man who admitted he had a fiery temper, and vowed he would never love her?

  ‘I … I need time to consider,’ she eventually managed to whisper.

  ‘I will grant you one day, no more,’ he grated harshly. ‘You may stay here today and rest. Allow your ankle to recover. But do not regard me as an easy mark, Miss Peter
s. Don’t think I have not noticed how thin you are. Or how you clean every plate that is set before you. This is not an asylum for the waifs and strays of London’s gutters. You will tell me your decision tonight at dinner. And if it is a refusal, make no mistake, the free meals and board will cease tomorrow morning. And this interview,’ he said, pulling a sheaf of papers across the desktop towards him, ‘is at an end. I have work to do. Nelson!’ he bellowed.

  The man must have been lurking just outside the door, because he burst in at once. ‘Miss Peters will not be leaving today after all. See that she has whatever she needs to make her stay with us comfortable. Send Mr Jago in to me, but keep her out of my way. And above all,’ he growled as she got to her feet, ‘see that she does not get into any more mischief.’

  Chapter Five

  Nelson held out his arm, and, once more, she allowed him to support her as they crossed the hall, back to the parlour where she had sat—had it only been the night before?—on her arrival.

  Yes, that was all it had been. Though so much had happened, she reflected as Nelson led her to the selfsame armchair, that it seemed like a lifetime ago! She had come here, expecting to become a governess, had run away, fearing the Captain meant to make her his mistress, and now …

  Now, she sighed, sinking back against the cushions, she was seriously contemplating marrying the man—For what was the alternative?

  Billy came barrelling into the room then, and, after exchanging a nod and some meaningful grimaces with Nelson, he swept all the clutter from a low table under the window, brought it to her chair, grabbed a cushion, and said, ‘You just put your foot up, here, miss.’

  Rather bemused, she did as she was told.

  ‘Billy was a loblolly boy on The Speedwell,’ Nelson explained.

  Feeling even more bewildered by the strange terminology on top of everything else, she said, ‘A … lob … What is one of those?’

  ‘I ‘elped the ship’s surgeon,’ Billy explained.

  ‘Oh, so that is how you knew exactly what the Captain needed to do with my ankle, last night, to make it feel so much better,’ she mused aloud.

  She went back in her mind to how gently Captain Corcoran had bound up her ankle, even though he had been absolutely furious with her.

  And how this morning he had sent for her to enquire after her health, even though he had thought she found him so repulsive she had run out into the night to escape him. Just to make sure she had somewhere to go.

  He might say he had a fiery temper. But she had already discovered he was not the kind of man to cause deliberate pain. Or turn an injured woman out on the streets, no matter how badly she had behaved.

  Billy and Nelson were still standing there, staring down at her as though they were taking the Captain’s orders to watch her quite literally, when the door opened and the bow-legged man with the dreadful teeth came in, a bunch of wild flowers clutched in his hands.

  ‘This is to say sorry for scaring you last night,’ he said, thrusting them at her. The mashed stems were tied together with string that had been plaited, then tied into some kind of complicated knot that was far more skilfully put together than the selection of flowers. ‘Nelson says you’ve got over your fright, and you’re gonna stay,’ he added, shifting from one leg to the other.

  ‘I am not quite yet decided,’ she said, taking the flowers from his knobbly hands. Their faces all fell dramatically.

  Aimée looked from one man to the other. They all seemed so keen for her to stay, and marry their precious Captain! Even after all the trouble she had caused them the night before.

  ‘You can’t go holding it against him just coz he impressed you,’ blurted Jenks, his face full of woe.

  Nelson swatted him round the back of the head, making the poor fellow’s eyes water.

  ‘What?’ he said, swinging round with an injured air.

  ‘You’re supposed to be helping, not making things worse!’ hissed Nelson angrily.

  Jenks turned on Nelson, his expression belligerent. ‘I am helping! We all know what it feels like first time you get pressed. Everyone resents it! Till you get used to being on board ship and find the life ain’t so bad if you’ve got officers like Cap’n Corky …’

  For a few minutes, the three men seemed to forget all about Aimée as they engaged in a heated argument about whether the way the Captain had acted to secure her presence at The Lady’s Bower could truly be construed as impressment. It was a fascinating insight into a world of which Aimée had no previous experience. She learned that almost any healthy man who lived within sight of British shores faced the constant threat of being plucked from his home and livelihood, to serve in his Majesty’s navy.

  ‘But she come ‘ere of her own free will,’ argued Nelson hotly, ‘like a volunteer answering to a recruitment poster.’

  ‘Well, you know what a pack of lies they tell,’ Jenks said. ‘Promising you beer and beef, and fiddlers and dancing every night …’

  ‘Aye, but being a wife is a sight better than being a governess,’ protested Billy. ‘She signed up to work for the Captain, and got instant promotion. She ought to be grateful!’

  At that point, Nelson darted her a troubled look, as though suddenly recollecting she was sitting there listening to every word. He clouted Jenks once more for good measure, and it might have got ugly had not the door opened again, to reveal a man who was almost as wide as he was tall, with greying, greasy hair and a florid complexion. He was bearing a tray.

  ‘Jenks tells me how much you enjoyed my cake, miss,’ he said, attempting, she thought, to make a bow, though his girth prevented him from doing much more than inclining the upper half of his body slightly. ‘And that you are having a bit of a think about whether to marry the Captain or not. And so I thought I’d come and add my own weight to the argument.’

  Though it was an unfortunate turn of phrase, Aimée managed not to laugh at the company’s cook. Besides, she was not going to be swayed into making any decision merely because Captain Corcoran inspired devotion amongst his followers. Why, even Hincksey, who was a moneylender and a brothel-keeper, inspired loyalty in his minions. And that, merely because he did not break a man’s legs without provocation!

  Though what they had said had given her a revealing glimpse into the lives of a class of men she’d never really thought about before. She had, occasionally, encountered members of the officer class, strutting about the salons of places like Naples. They never mentioned the men who served under them. She did not suppose many officers, once ashore, spared a single thought for the welfare of the inhabitants of the lower decks.

  No, from what Billy and Jenks and Nelson said, they just treated them like criminals. They wrested them from their homes, denied them liberty, flogged them, kept them half-starved, and then expected them to fight like demons whenever they came across an enemy ship.

  The poor wretches!

  Though she was still perplexed by their eagerness to see her marry their wonderful Captain.

  ‘There is nothing special about me, you know,’ she said, splashing just a dash of milk into her teacup. ‘I am beginning to wonder why you are all so keen to see me, in particular, marry him. If I were to leave—’

  ‘No, you can’t do that, miss!’ cried Jenks. ‘Not and leave him to the mercy of the likes of Lady Frog Face! Not after all he’s been through!’

  The other men rounded on him, their faces equally furious.

  ‘Get him back to the kitchen, where he can’t do no more damage,’ Nelson growled.

  ‘With pleasure,’ replied the cook, taking the hapless man by one ear and tugging him out of the door.

  Aimée looked from Billy to Nelson, her eyes narrowed.

  ‘What did he mean? And who is Lady Frog Face?’

  They shifted uncomfortably. Then Nelson said, ‘Look, we just want to see him happy, that’s all. It were wicked, the way his wife ran off and left him, when he come home half-dead with fever after losing of his eye.’

  ‘It weren’
t even that bad,’ muttered Billy. ‘I seen a lot worse …’

  ‘Mr Jago found him this place, and we came here and looked after him till he was strong enough to return to duty, just like he helped all of us when we was washed ashore without friends. And now he wants to marry you, miss. And we don’t care what you’re like, if you’re the woman he’s fixed his sights on, that’s good enough for us!’

  Well, it wasn’t good enough for her. She could not agree to marry a man just because these former mariners could tell a heart-wrenching tale or two.

  ‘Would you mind leaving me now, please?’ she said as firmly as she could. She needed peace and quiet so that she could make the decision, a decision that would affect her whole future, in a cool, calm, rational manner.

  ‘I hope you enjoy your tea,’ said Nelson, backing towards the door.

  ‘And the cake,’ added Billy, pointing to it as though reminding her there would be plenty more where that came from, should she stay at The Lady’s Bower and marry Captain Corcoran.

  Lady Frog Face? Aimée watched the door close behind their hasty departure, and took a sip of her tea. Surely, Captain Corcoran had not sent all the way to London for her, to avoid marrying some lady with the facial features of a frog? He struck her as being far too forceful a personality to do anything so feeble.

  Still, the little chat she’d just had with his servants had made some things clear. It had given her a glimpse of a world utterly alien to her own. No wonder the Captain’s outlook on life was very different from hers. He probably saw nothing wrong with pressing innocent people into service. He must have recruited dozens, nay, hundreds of men to fight and die on his warships during his career in the navy in a like manner. He was so used to having his word treated as law that virtually kidnapping a woman before proposing to her probably seemed perfectly logical to him.

  She reached for a slice of cake. Had he done her any actual, physical harm? No. Nor had he intended to. Aimée was not too proud to admit that much of what she had suffered had been entirely her own fault. She need not have got soaked if she had waited at the King’s Arms for him to fetch her in the carriage he had borrowed especially. She would not have twisted her ankle if she had listened to his proposal calmly, instead of assuming he was the kind of brute she had encountered in the past and panicked. In spite of his gruff manner, he had not crossed the line many men she had known in the past would have done with alacrity. She was stranded in his house, surrounded by his fanatically loyal crew. He could have done whatever he wished with her. And tossed her aside afterwards, had he felt so inclined. Many women would consider he was a cruel beast for putting her through the ordeal she had undergone. But she had met truly, brutally cruel men before. And the Captain was nothing like any of them.